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#we’ll see what happens come spring
sarawritestories · 2 months
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Unwavering Presence Chapter 2
Cassian X Archeron Sister (Reader)
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Summary: After the first week at the Night Court the Archeron Twins are going back to the spring court. But Y/N comes back with a souvenir of her own a parting gift from the High Lord of the Night
Content Warnings: None
Word Count: 2.1K
Chapter 1
Story Tags: @hellodarling1357 @hnyclover @waytoomanyteenagefeels @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @esposadomd @sleepylunarwolf @stressed-reader @kylaisra @marvelouslovely-barnes @magicstrengthandcourage @spideytingley @awkardnerd @donttellthecats @tastydewdrops @vermillionwinter @asweetblueberry2 @bunnyredgirl
A/N: Honestly I am blown away by the love and support you all sent me for the first chapter. This is kind of a fluffy chapter. I have been sick so I apologize if this isn't as good!
It was the end of the week and Feyre was thrumming with excited energy. I knew she could not wait to go back to the Spring Court. After that night and meeting that handsome male-Cassian, I didn’t venture out around the manor at night nervous to run into him again. When I had a Nightmare, I just sat at the armchair in the room and watched my sister’s chest rise and fall until I found my eyes drooping. I always awoke with a blanket wrapped around me the next morning.
Feyre smiled, “Ready to go ho-“She paused, “Back today?”
I shrugged, “Ready as I’ll ever be, but right now I just would like some breakfast.” I paused and gave her a pointed look. “Do you think you can try to be nice to our host.”
Feyre straightened her nose sticking up in the air, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I am as civil as always.” She looked beautiful in her Night court outfit. It was teal with sheer sleeves that show a bit of midriff with matching pants. I was in something similar in peach tone but mine was a skirt with slit that ran up to my thigh.  Feyre looped her arm into my own and when we opened the door, we found Rhysand on the other end ready to knock. “Oh hello, High Lord we were just coming down to have breakfast with you.” Feyre put on her fakest smile that enticed an unladylike snort to come out of me.
“Oh wonderful, if you don’t mind Feyre Darling,” I noticed she scowled at the nickname, but Rhysand continued, “I would like to speak to your sister in private for a moment.”
Feyre’s nostrils flared, “Absolutely I mind, you wil-”
I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed interrupting her, “Fey, it’s fine. We’ll meet you in the dining room.” Feyre looked at me and I gave her an affirming nod and squeezed her arm.
Feyre released my arm and bumped Rhysand’s shoulder with force and the High Lord smiled in response, “Are you some kind of masochist, High Lord? Its almost like you enjoy getting hurt by my sister.” I raise a brow as I see him rub his hand behind his neck and…Blushing. “Oh my, you do like when she’s mean to you.”
Rhysand puts his hand down, “I do not, hush, you remind me of the General of my armies. He’s a smartass like you.”
I smirk, “I look forward to meeting him sometime.” Rhysand’s face shifts to something more serious, “Am I in trouble?”
The High Lord’s brow furrowed, “Not at all, should you be?”
I began rocking my weight back and forth from each foot out of nervousness, “I may have snuck into the library the day we got here.”
Rhysand huffed a laugh, “Hope you found some good reading material, but no. I just wanted to make sure you are doing since…” he didn’t need to finish his thought for me to know what he was talking about.
I give him a smile, “I’m fine, Rhysand-“
“Rhys. You can call me Rhys.” He interrupted.
Rhys is what Cassian had called him in the library. “Okay, Rhys, I appreciate your concern, but I don’t think you need to worry about me.” I bit my lip. Its Feyre you should be worried about she won’t talk to me about what happened Under the Mountain.
“I can worry about multiple things at once,” Rhys countered I met his violet gaze and noticed that stars that winked out at the seriousness in his tone, clearly not realizing that I had said that out loud. He took a step closer and gripped my hand to lift my eyes, his eyes drifting over to the yellowed bruise from Tamlin’s grip a week ago. “Are you treated well in his court?”
I was taken aback by his question, “I’m not sure what you’re asking me, Rhys.” I murmur lightly tugging my hand away and he lets me. “Tamlin has made is love for Feyre known. He is…good.” I gritted out the last word.
Rhys tucked his hand into his pocket. “You don’t have to say or tell me anything if you don’t want to. I know you are protective of your sister. I just want you to know that if you want to talk or need to let out some steam, you are free to do so, while you’re here.” He gave me a tight smile and was about to exit.
“We don’t like each other.” Rhysand paused at the door not turning to face me I kept going, not sure why I was sharing, “I think he didn’t like that Feyre and I are a package deal. I don’t know for certain why he is cold and…aggressive toward me. I can tell you that the wedding was the first time that he put his hands on me.”
Rhysand turned around and walked toward me and gripped my hand, “Make a bargain with me.”
“What for? I’m not dying anymore.” I felt Rhys give my hand a light squeeze, “I can take care of myself you know..”
Rhys smiled, “I know you can, Y/N, I am specifically asking for a bargain, because if we have a bargain, we will have a direct line of communication.”
I gave him a doubtful look, “Why would I need that?”
Rhys smile fell and his face turned serious which caused me to straighten my spine, “In case you need my help, I’ll know where to find you.”
My brow furrowed, “Why do you care? What do you benefit from ensuring I’m safe?”
Rhys sighed frustratingly, “Maybe I’m concerned with how your sister would feel, if something would happen to you. Maybe it’s because you were the first person to look me in my eyes and tell me you trusted me and looked at me as something other than Amarantha’s Whore. Or maybe I’m just trying to be your friend because correct me if I’m wrong, you could really use one.”
I looked at our entwined hands, and I met his eyes again, “A friend would be nice. What are the terms?”
“All I want is for you to ask for help if you need it. In return I will do whatever you wish within reason of course.”
I playfully sigh, “So turning Tamlin into a rat is not an option, got it.” He chuckled low and deep as you thought about what you want, thinking back to that night in the library and drifting to the warm honey eyes I met there. Rhys’ cough brought me back from my thoughts for a moment I thought he had brief smirk but, in a blink, it was gone, “I can’t read very well.” I blurted and that caused his eyes to widen, “Would you be willing to teach me how to read and write?”
Rhys blinked, and then smiled, “Of course. A bargain then.”
I shake his hand, “A bargain.” A light flashed and an intricate black tattoo of whirls and stars wrapped around my wrist. “These really are beautiful.”
Rhys took my hand and looped that arm around his, “Come now, we must not keep that ill tempered twin of yours waiting.”
You laughed as we left our room, “What do I say about this,” I raise my wrist, “when they inevitably, ask about it. When she asks about it?”
Rhys shrugged, “Whatever you see fit. If you want to paint me out as the villain who tricked, you into a bargain say so. I just wanted you to have a way to reach me.”
We reach the dining room Feyre quietly talking to Mor, Rhys’ cousin that we met in the middle of this week, “Careful, Rhys, keep this up and I am going to start thinking you’re a nice Fae male.” I kissed his cheek and made my way into the dining room.
Feyre stood, and gave me a warm smile, “Are you ready?” I gave her a nod and look back at Rhys who tucked a hand in his pocket and Feyre lifted her chin, “We would like to go home now.” I bristled at her calling it my home but let it slide.
Rhys nodded and held out both his hands and I extend the arm without the tattoo, in his hand Feyre taking the other, and Mor calls out, “See you next month, Ladies.”
I turn and give her a smile and wave and I can see Feyre’s eyes go wide at the tattoo. Darkness begins to swirl as I look back at the door to the hallway and my breath hitched seeing Hazel eyes and flashes of red before the darkness consumed us.
In a moment we were back in the warm heat of the Spring Court. “See you next month, ladies.” And with that he was gone, my gaze lingered on where he was.
I was whipped around by my sister as she lifted my left arm, “What did you do?”
I whipped my arm back and walked toward the manner cross my arms tucking my tattooed wrist hidden, “Rhys offered something I wanted, I made a bargain.”
“What could he possibly have that you could have wanted,” Feyre hissed trying to keep up with my pace. “Especially something that Tamlin can’t provide here.”
I glare at her, “Like how he has been so great at providing you the emotional support when you throw up every night. Right?” Feyre went silent, “That’s what I thought. Feyre as I said before, I love you, but I am my own person and can make my own decisions. Please stop treating me like I’m a child.” Lucien was standing in front of the manor, and I storm inside ignoring the red headed male and make a beeline for my room and slam my door and sitting in the armchair by my window. I felt a warm tingle on my wrist. I looked at my left arm and another wave of warmth tingled my wrist. “Thanks Rhys,” I smiled and leaned my head against the head rest and drifted off into sleep thinking of those warm eyes and beautiful smile.
Cassian POV
I spent every evening in the library this past week, in hopes I would see Y/N again. Rhys had told us that we wouldn’t see Feyre but when I had walked into that library and saw her soft eyes that gleamed in the dark fae lights and the ease it was to talk to her.
“Why do you have that look on your face?” Mor questioned her brow quirked. Her face brightened, “Is there a lucky male or Female warming your bed Cas?”
I choked on the bite of my breakfast, “Mother above, Mor. Why would you think that?
“Because you have been staring at your eggs like they wrote you a beautiful love sonnet to you. I would have to assume that someone is warming your bed.” Mor’s threw him saccharine grin.
Before I could answer Rhys returned, his face tight, his eyes met mine, “Well that went as well as I anticipated.” Rhys muttered sitting at the table and the house provided him with breakfast. He began to eat, “I made a bargain with Y/N.”
My eyes snapped to my brothers, “You did?”
He nodded and took another of bite, I move my gaze to Mor, she shrugged and asked, “Why?”
Rhys mouth tightened, “Tamlin got a little aggressive, when I picked them up on Feyre’s wedding day. He had gripped her tight,”
I gripped my glass firmly and I thought about our brief encounter. There had been a bruise on her arm, I just didn’t know where it was from. “Did you ask her about it?”
“She chalked it up to those two just not getting along but I wanted her to know that she wasn’t alone.” Rhys smirked, “Though I will say she may have had hazel eyes on her mind this morning,” He met my gaze as heat crawled to my face. “Any particular reason why, Cassian?”
Mor’s gasped, I shot her a glare, “I may have met her in the library the day the two of them got here.” I took a sip of my tea, “I didn’t do anything nefarious, just talked with her,”
Rhys held up a hand to stop me, “I know, her thoughts were loud, and it just feels like she was comfortable here and comfortable with her interactions with both of you.” He gave a smile, “Thank you, both.”
I took another sip of my tea and murmured, “Can you imagine when those two meet, Azriel?”
Mor giggled, “Cauldron spare them.”
Rhys smiled, “Indeed.” Then the three of us finished our breakfast and my mind drifted to red silk, and doe eyes.
Chapter 3
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theaologies · 7 months
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spinning my chair around and sitting in it backwards: GOOOOOD MORNING CLASS
FIRST AND FOREMOST: this is not a panic post. It’s an informational preparedness post. Don’t panic. Just be prepared for this like you’d be prepared for an earthquake but you know it’s coming and it’s wet.
I’m 30, lived in Central Florida for the first 26 years of my life, and have experienced more hurricanes and tropical storms than you can imagine. Never in my life did I think I would have to discuss HURRICANE SAFETY again after moving to LOS ANGELES from FLORIDA and yet HERE WE ARE-
(This information is accurate as of 8/17 at 9am PST)
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SO models are still early but it seems like as of last night, Pacific Hurricane Hilary is rapidly intensified AND has shifted its track pretty severely inland. Originally SoCal was predicted to get some bands off the coast but this does NOT seem to be the case anymore
As our good friend Jim Cantore mentioned above, if Hilary DOES make landfall in SoCal, it will be the first tropical storm to do so since 1939. Fucking yikes.
THE GOOD NEWS:
It isn’t looking like Hilary will make landfall anywhere as a strong hurricane. If it makes landfall in central Baja it looks like it’ll be a Cat 2 which isn’t great but still- better than the Cat 5 it’s currently strengthening to.
As for SoCal, we’re not predicted to get anything over a Tropical Storm. And mountains tear up tropical cyclones like crazy. It’ll (probably) be weak and, wind wise, no worse than the Santa Ana’s
THE BAD NEWS:
Our Cone of Uncertainty is currently pretty wide- this fluctuation matters as it determines which side of the storm hits us. Is this significant? Yes. The right side of a Hurricane is considered the “dirty” side- it’s the side that is most likely to produce severe weather, such as severe thunderstorms and tornadoes. It’s still too early to determine what side will affect us the most but it’s something to keep in mind.
Also, I can’t speak for the rest of SoCal, but I would not bet on the LA infrastructure doing well even with a weak tropical storm. Which is why I have brought you here today, to run down the IMPORTANT HURRICANE CHECKLIST
NOTE: I made this several years ago for FLORIDA so not all of it will be accurate to SoCal. Most of us live in apartments and have no say over tree trimmings and the likes. If the storm is feeling like it’s going to get bad, I would recommend moving important things and electronics away from windows and hanging out in areas of the apartment that have the least amount of windows. I don’t think boarding up windows or anything will be necessary but here’s information if you need/want it
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ANOTHER NOTE: if you have the means, please check up on your unhoused neighbors and immediate community groups that do so, as well. As always, they will be the ones most affected by severe weather. Tarps, anything that rises up off the ground, waterproof bags, etc would be good to grab for them. I am not an expert here and would recommend following the lead of your community groups that work with your unhoused neighbors to find out what will be needed most.
I don’t at all think we’ll see any shutdowns so if the rain does get bad be prepared for dangerous driving conditions. I know it’s dangerous to drive any time it rains in LA but, you know. The Weather Channel isn’t predicting a TON of rain at the moment (for LA) but, just like our winter/spring this year, be on the look out for flash floods.
And again, this is all JUST IN CASE. It’s better to be prepared than not. SoCal’s infrastructure is not at all prepared to handle a tropical event so who knows! Anything is possible. If I was in Florida I wouldn’t at all be worrying about this but I’m not anymore and our wet winter absolutely fucked our roads in LA so I’d rather everyone be safe than sorry.
I’m sure it’ll all be fine and now you just have more safety information, which is never bad! Because frankly climate change is very real and I would not be surprised to see this happening more and more in the coming years. And it does have me worrying that El Niño this year is going to be worse than we imagined.
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shadowandlightt · 2 months
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Of Nightmares and Memories /four/ Azriel x reader
Series Warnings: Kidnapping. Mistreatment. Cursing. Pining. Violence. Depression. Talks of suicide. Eventual smut
A/N: We're getting closer to her returning to the IC and I'm so happy about that. I also had a lot of fun writing this part, so I hope you enjoy!
Part One Part Two Part Three
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The following days were much the same, watching from a distance as Tamlin worked hard to woo the young Feyre. Your eyes rolled every time he tried to complement her. She didn’t belong here. Just like you didn’t belong here. She was too much of a dreamer to become a High Lord’s wife, or little play thing. Too much of a dreamer to be held down by his endless rules and customs. 
She deserved so much more. You deserved more. 
Imagines of wings and starlight fill your head every time you close your eyes. You could see all of them, laughing at The House of Wind over dinner, having a grand time without you. They moved on, you know they had. But you couldn’t move on from them, no matter how hard you tried. You yearned for them. 
You yearned for Cassian and his brutish humor, the kind that always got him in trouble with your mother, but always made you laugh harder than you should. You yearned for Morrigan and her never ending support when your father was being particularly dastardly. And Azriel….oh how you longed for him. The gentle touches of his shadows, the shy smiles, and rare bouts of laughter. Besides your brother, you missed Azriel most of all. 
He was your Az, and yet you had no claim to him. But he seemed to understand that you belonged to one another. Maybe that’s why you made the promises you did. 
Where you go I go, but whatever we do we do it together. 
You made that promise before you flew for the first time. You were too afraid to fly as a child, but when Azriel came along and had to learn so late in life….well you got over your fear for him. You grasped his scarred hand in your tiny one and led him to the edge of the House of Wind. Why they decided that was the best place to learn to fly, you’ll never quite understand. 
But it was then that you looked up at him, tears in your eyes due to fear, that you spoke, “Where you go I go.”
He nodded slowly, hair blowing in the wind, “But we do it together.”
“Together,” You agreed, holding his hand tighter. 
And together you leapt from the ledge and let the wind take hold of your wings. Together you wobbled, but still stayed afloat. Together you figured it out, never once letting go of the other. And when you landed back on the roof, you held him so tightly as he laughed. And it was then that you decided that was the most beautiful sound you ever heard. It was then that you decided you would do anything to hear that laugh and see that smile as much as possible. 
And it was then that he decided he would always protect you, because you were his just as much as he was yours. 
“He’s sending her back,” Lucien’s voice drew you from your thoughts. 
“He’s what?”
“Your brother came,” Lucien says, face pale, “Took her mind, threatened to crush it. It isn’t safe for her here anymore, time is almost up. So Tam is sending her back.”
“He’s a damned fool,” you hiss, “She’s in love with him, it’s plain as day to see! All he has to do is get her to admit it, but he can’t do that, can he? He’s giving up, all because my brother decided to come and scare him?”
“You weren’t there.”
“No, I wasn’t, but when does the brutality of the Night Court surprise Tamlin?” You question, “He’s seen it first hand, he knows what we’ll do to him. Why do you think he keeps me full of Faebane? Huh?” 
“Y/N-”
“He knows I could shred all of your minds so easily,” You nearly laugh, “I could make Rhys look like child’s play if I really wanted to. You think he is vile and violent? See what happens when I have all of my powers, Lucien. There’ll be nothing left to bury. I could raze the Spring Court to the ground and not feel a thing about it.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“I’m a prisoner here, don’t think that I wouldn’t take the first chance to escape,” You shake your head, “No matter who I have to kill. I might still be a child compared to the rest of you but I’m a child of the Night. Brutality is in my blood.” 
“You aren’t like them-”
“Oh? Am I not? Just because I’ve been docile so far doesn’t mean it isn’t inside of me. I am a wolf in sheep's clothing. I always have been, dear Lucien. I am the most dangerous person in this manor, and he’s a fool to forget it.”
His face contorts into something that you aren’t quite able to read. Pride wells in your chest knowing you’re doing your job. You want to feel sick about it, want to feel sick about the role you’re playing. But if it brings you one step closer to your brother then you can’t bring yourself to feel bad about it. All you want is to go home again. You just want Rhys to hold you and tell you everything is going to be alright again. 
“Tamlin deserves what's coming to him,” you hiss, “You all do.”
“You don’t mean that.” 
“Oh but I do. I hope Rhys enjoys breaking every single one of you. And if he doesn’t, I will,” You take a step closer to Lucien, “By the cauldron I promise you, I will break this court apart piece by piece and I will laugh as I do it. And I won’t stop until he’s the only one left standing, and all he has to claim is rubble.” 
It rises up in your chest, and you feel it escaping through your fingertips, the darkness you used to run from long ago. You smile at it, feeling it wrap up your arms and cascade down towards the floor. It took a lot of energy to conjure it. You would be exhausted afterwards. But it would be worth it. 
Lucien took a step back, and then another. Head shaking. You knew what you looked like. A vile smile on your face, darkness twirling all around you. You looked like your big brother. You felt the power flowing through your veins, what little you had left of it anyway. 
“Don’t underestimate me, Lucien.” 
Tamlin sent Feyre back to the human lands the following day. You watched from your window with a scowl on your face as the carriage took her away. Tamlin was giving up and damning all of you in the process. Amerantha would come for him soon enough, and then there would be nothing left for you but to run. 
Maybe you could make it to the Night Court, maybe you would be lucky. 
“Once she comes, you’re free,” Tamlin spoke over dinner that night. 
“Perhaps,” You do your best to sound bored. 
You had to control your heart, so you didn’t give away how scared you truly were. If she found you, you would be dead in an instant. Or maybe she’d use you as a toy to get Rhys to do her bidding some more. He was already her whore, but perhaps she wanted more. She wanted him on his knees for her. And even you knew that he bowed before no one but his court. 
“Maybe I’ll stay here, I’ve grown quite fond of this place.”
“Liar.” Lucien bites out. 
One look from you though and he stands down. What he doesn’t know is you slept for almost twelve hours after your little display earlier. It took everything you had, all of your energy and what power you had. But it was worth every second to see the look on Lucien’s face. To know that you were still able to scare him enough. 
“Something you add, Lucien?” You question, venom dripping from your words. 
His head shakes, swallowing deeply. It only makes you smirk. You were so close to going home, to any semblance of home. Maybe your brother wouldn’t be there, but you’d be free. The Court of Nightmares had to be better than living here. 
“You should hide,” Tamlin says slowly, “They’re coming.”
“Now?”
He only nods, and reaches for more wine. He seems too calm. But then again he’s already given up. He gave up the second he sent Feyre back across the wall to her family. You can’t help but scoff as you rise to your feet. You expected him to fight back, maybe even for Lucien to fight. But you didn’t expect them to just lay down and roll over and let Amerantha march her cronies in here and take everyone. 
“You’re a coward, Tamlin.”
“So you’ve been saying for hundreds of years.”
“You should have just killed me.”
“Heard that too.” 
Your eyes roll, “I hope you have fun as her dog.” 
“Enjoy your freedom, Y/N.” 
You scoff again, “You best hope I never get the chance to kill you, Tamlin. I won’t make it as quick as my brother made your family's death.” 
Tag List
@historygeekqueen @wallacewillow0773638 @sstrohma @saltedcoffeescotch @hnyclover @thelov3lybookworm @queerqueenlynn @minnieoo @maddybraps @mariahoedt @witchymomfrien
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chaosology · 7 months
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lurking
sam kerr x reader (social media)
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my works feedback??? disclosure here
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liked by mothery/n, harrie4ever and 10,890 others
enews Looks like Y/N Y/L/N and Harry Styles have officially called it quits - read more at the link in bio (📷: TMZ)
mothery/n finally OMG
heyharry why are mum and dad divorcing
y/nlovies shhhh guys let her cook
user188 hot girl summer INCOMING
barbiegirl ready for her to confirm her girl kisser tendencies 🍇 🍉 🍏 🍊
y/nrrymylife WJAT
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liked by samanthakerr20, y/n20 and 933,451 others
barbiethemovie Let’s go party! Coming to a dreamhouse near you this Spring 😉
y/nofficial 💕🌸💄🎀🍬🦩🩰🎟️
harinef Hi Barbie!!
y/nofficial hi barbie 😋
yelenamygirrrl OMFGGG
alyssa23 um HELLO?? we knew the casting was perfect but wowow
zendaya 😚
troyesivan y/n showing up for australia, HOT
y/nofficial always 😉
loversfilm She’s Aussie??
mothery/n yes wtf how did u not know this
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liked by y/nofficial, samanthakerr20 and 233,679 others
matildas This Barbie is leading Australia this WWC 🏆 We love samanthakerr20
y/nofficial 🫶
y/l/nkisses wtf her gay ass doing here she don’t even follow them she just LURKS
mothery/n leave her be omg 😭
samanthakerr20 ayeee
mackenziearnold 👏
tillies23 collab of the year
fowlersrealgf barbie marketing doing the most
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liked by kerrkisser, stylesandy/l/n and 2306 others
mothery/n Y’ALL SHE REMOVED HER LIKE??? gay lil bitch… also fuck off enews n dailymail the ss are MINE
kerrkisser my 5 min of fame omg
abieloise ok but she never confirmed her sexuality. straight girlies can appreciate her too!!
mothery/n nah look at her. she likes girls idc
kerrkisser ur so real for this
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liked by kerrkisser, mackenzzzi and 8700 others
mothery/n does anyone remember this interview?? i don’t think she’s in it for the soccer guys 👀
mackenzzzi HAHAHAA she’s in it for the babes
stylestoday she’s literally not even gay guys
yelenababy ok harry fan 😚
dreamydrea that’s MY barbie, she’s for the girls iktr
20kerr_20 I think Sam and her gf broke up… soooooooo i guess we’ll see what happens?
samanthakerr20 started following y/nofficial
y/nofficial started following samanthakerr20
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saintship · 9 months
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humbly would like to request konig seeing s/h scars on his s/o for the first time :’)
fun fact i got dumped one time over em one time, my ex saw em on my thigh and was like “yeah no”
First of all I’m hunting this fucker down, what the hell??
People who get stranger’s IP’s do your shit
I’m so sorry that happened to you, that little boy did not deserve you, I hope you enjoy<3
SIDE NOTE I saw a headcanon on tiktok saying “König is NOT shy” And I kinda loved that so I tried to explore it a bit
Warnings: S/H scars, revealing of traumatic events
König x Reader
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Outer Patrol
Of all the assignment you cycled through, outer patrol was the easiest on the eyes. The forest surrounding the base consisted of thin birch trees packed together, so that slivers of sunlight would reach through and grace the east grounds. Your favorite was the early morning outer patrol with König—he shared your fascination with the forest, and slung a loose arm around you when it had been truly freezing last winter.
Now, in the warmth of July, the sun casted its light aggressively through the gaps of branches and leaves, the humid air clouding your thoughts.
The sticks and leaves crumpled under both of your boots, König bringing up the rear on the narrow path.
“Do you think there are bears out here?” You murmur, looking carefully through the gaps of the trees.
“Nein. We make too much noise..” König pointed out. The camp certainly made itself known during artillery drills.
You hum, letting the air settle in silence again. Suddenly, you stopped in your tracks, causing König to nearly topple you over.
“Hey!”
“Sh!” You hold up a gloved hand, staying as still as possible. Slowly, you lifted the other to point ahead of you, where a fox pawed at the ground, investigating the lush grass.
“That’s not a bear.” König’s whisper nearly made you laugh, but you swatted his shoulder instead, smiling.
“He’s so cute..” you whisper. The fox lifted its head, spotting the two of you and bounding away quickly.
“I guess it’s not too loud for him.” You turn around and walk backwards to face your partner as the path widens ahead.
“Maybe we’ll see kits in the spring.” König said softly.
“Aw..” You cooed at the thought, smiling.
The path continued, but there was a faint fork that led off to the right.
“Have you seen this?”
König shook his head.
You pushed back a branch, stepping through the threshold. The path was littered with overgrown ferns, bushes, and a few fallen logs you had to vault over. Finally, the path opened to a clearing, where a small stream expanded into a large pond nestled underneath a trickling waterfall. The rocky ledge slanted down, the falling water sparkling beneath the late morning sunshine.
“Oh..my god..” you breathed. You turned to see König’s reaction; he was transfixed on the water, his eyes shining under the dark paint and hood.
“This is insane..” you knelt by the water, removing a glove to feel the temperature. “Not bad. I bet people used to swim here.”
Suddenly, König’s pager buzzed, and he was broken from his trance to retrieve the device from his hip.
“König, outer patrol..” He greeted.
“Price is tellin’ me to inform everyone off base to not come back until the afternoon; apparently we’ve got more people than we’re supposed to have on the property, and the hounds are here earlier than he thought.”
Simon’s voice rang gruffly through the transmitter, sounding irritated.
“So just don’t come back for a few hours, yeah?”
“Ja.” König replied.
“Thanks, Ghost!” You called from where you knelt at the water.
“Whatever.” The line clicked, leaving them alone with the sound of running water again.
“Well, we couldn’t have been in a luckier spot to stay put.” You stated, pulling off your backpack. You set down your gun next to it and hugged your knees, watching the water.
“That is true.” König conceded. He shed the bulk of his gear, along with his weapon, but remained standing, wandering along the shoreline. He knelt for a moment, seemingly inspecting something, before standing again and tossing a stone sideways, the rock skidding a total of four times before plunging into the water.
“Woah!” You got to your feet, walking over to him. “You could go Olympic..” You found a stone that seemed thin enough, turning it over in your ungloved hand.
“Just turn your hips. Put your soul into it.” König instructed, enacting his ridiculous stone-skipping stance. You laughed a bit, but followed his direction, skipping the rock twice.
“Ha!” You threw your arms up, connecting your hands with König’s for a double high five.
“Not bad..” He chided.
The sun rose in the sky over the next hour, you and König perfectly content with skipping rocks, wrestling, and splashing each other. All the movement combined with the beating sun made for a layer of sweat underneath your uniform.
“Wish we could swim; I’m melting..” you laid on your back dramatically, feeling the warm stones through your shirt.
“Why not?”
“Because, we have work, and someone might- hey!” You sat up, gaping as König lifted his shirt. He was careful to keep his hood on, but dared to strip of his pants, boots and socks.
“What are you doing?” You couldn’t help but smile at his tenacity.
“Just to my waist!” König gestured to his bare torso, his black briefs and hood being the only fabric left on him. You watched as he waded in, the muscles of his back enough to have a warmth climb your neck. You look away, feeling uncertain about ogling your coworker.
“It’s so nice!”
You turned back to see him hip-deep, running his hands back and forth along the surface. The definition of his chest and shoulders was criminal, accentuated by the patterns of light reflecting off the water’s surface.
“Come on!”
“No way!” You grinned, trying to hide the sense of dread the idea brought onto your mind.
“I am willing to use force!”
“Oh, god..” you sighed, removing your boots and socks. You waded to your shins, rolling up your pants so they didn’t get wet. The water was cool, washing away the sweat prickling on your legs. “Happy?”
“I don’t think so..” He sang, wading back to the shore. The water cascaded down his lower stomach, along his thighs. You found yourself furiously studying the pebbles at your feet, rendering you unaware of König’s attack.
He lifted you from the water with damp hands, ready to drop you in the further depths. You yelped, laughing but terrified of coming back with a soaked uniform.
“Alright! Alright!” You shouted. “I’ll get in, crazy!”
A gentle laugh rumbled from his chest, which sounded right by your ear as he set you down. You had felt the muscle of his chest through just a layer of fabric; the thought enough for you to avoid his eyes.
With all the laughter, you almost forgot the reason you didn’t want to undress in the first place. While König returned into the water, you pulled off your shirt, your sports bra being the only covering for your chest. The high-waisted underwear that you wore so your belt didn’t dig dents into your skin acted as bottoms, but you were hesitant to remove your pants. König noticed your labored breathing, returning to your side again.
“You don’t have to..if you really don’t want to.” He said gently, holding out a surrendering hand.
“No, it’s not..I just..” you sighed, irritated, and sat down in the sand.
“Is there something bothering you?” König’s gentle question shouldn’t have made you shrink the way it did.
“I’m sorry I pressured you, I didn’t-"
“König, it’s not your fault.” Your words escaped a bit snappier than usual, your shame building into frustration. “It’s..there are parts of myself you haven’t seen. Things that might upset you.”
König continued to look in your eyes, his concern drifting to confusion.
“There is nothing I would hold against you..” he assured. “If you want to do this, you shouldn’t hold yourself back, it’s alright.”
His words grounded you. He was right; a bodily feature is not grounds for hiding yourself away for the rest of your life when you don’t want to.
You nod, finding it easier to just get to it. Your belt came off first, the sound of the sliding leather deafening in the air of trickling water and chittering birds. Sliding your pants down your legs, the scars stretching over your thighs seemed especially defined under the sunlight. You discarded your pants, resisting the urge to cover yourself. You heard an intake of breath from König; a noise of realization.
“That is why you didn’t want to?” He asked gently.
“Scars like these don’t sit well with most people.” You murmur. Standing, you wade fully into the water, letting the water come up to your shoulders. König followed quietly, the same depth with his height letting the water only reach his sternum.
“I don’t think of you differently.” He admitted softly. “I’m honored you trust me to share something like that..I believe you have nothing to be ashamed of.”
You study his eyes for a moment, the water around you soothing your worries. “Really?”
König nodded, then let the silence stretch its legs between the two of you for a moment.
“Do you wanna go under the waterfall?” König asked.
You smiled. “Your hood will get wet..”
He hummed in realization. “I suppose you’ll have to go under for two?”
You laugh gently, swimming toward the waterfall with a splash at his chest. The water fell gently, soaking your hair and cooling your scalp.
“That’s nice..” you murmured, your eyes closed. “They’re totally going to know..”
Opening your eyes, you spot König already looking your way. The water is deep enough here that the edge seams of his hood are dipping into the water.
“I think it was worth it..”
You know he doesn’t mean it was worth it to escape the heat. Or threaten to dunk you underwater, or watch you tilt your head back under a glittering waterfall. You’d admitted something raw—deeply personal. There was a tie that bound you now, separate from that military based trust that everyone shared. With the others, you’d devoted the sacrifice of your body; your role in the fight. But to one Colonel, you had devoted your mind.
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nichuuu · 5 months
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Dried Things & Humanity
말린 것들과 인류
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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
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archivessuggest · 1 year
Text
S1 Jon: *before Elias can leave the archives after telling them all about an unexpected bonus* What’s got you so excited, Elias?
Elias: Oh, I almost forgot to tell you all! You’ll be getting the formal invitations soon, my husband and I are throwing an anniversary party and it’s just put me in the best mood!
Martin: Oh, that’s so sweet! What anniversary number is this?
Elias: First. We’ll be signing the divorce papers at the party.
Archive staff: …
Sasha: Oh? You’re really gonna spring divorce papers on him at an anniversary party?
Tim: The amount of grief the man must have cost you to get that as a punishment…
Elias: Oh, no, we agreed on signing them at the party. It’s why we never spend much on the weddings, since the divorce parties and lawyers end up taking such a big cut. Anyways, the information is all in the invites, I hope you all can come! *leaves*
Jon: …did he just imply this has happened before? Multiple times before?
Martin: Yeah. Must be some guy if he keeps going back to him.
Tim: I’m jealous. Sasha, marry me so we can have divorce parties.
Sasha: Hmm… convince me and we’ll see.
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randomlifex · 3 months
Text
Sunshine and storm
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - ‘♡’- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Go Kyungjun x fem!reader
Plot:the sun shines and the storm doesn’t understand why he likes it, but when his clouds will cover her rays, he’ll do anything to make the sun shine again
Warnings:bad language
Please notice:in this timeline Seun hasn’t died yet so there’s no game going on
This story is a request
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - ‘♡’- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The spring weather was approaching, the temperature rose and birds had finally begun to sing all day long.
“What a great day! -you exclaimed, hugging Seun, your friend- and in a few weeks cherry flowers will blossom! Finally my favourite colour will be everywhere again!” you clapped
Seun smiled, putting her book on the desk, then she watched as you sat next to her:
“How can you be always in such a good mood?” she asked
“How can you not be when it’s spring! It’s the season of blooming. Birds sing all day and animals come out from their hibernation”
“You make me nauseous” Kyungjun popped out from nowhere,sitting with Seungbin right behind you. You rolled your eyes hopelessly:knowing how he was, you didn’t expect him to appreciate the cute little things of life
“Man you gotta smile more, you’re always so angry. The situation is getting serious” you mumbled as the teacher came in
“You don’t wanna see me angry, do you, Snow white?” he hit the back of your head with a pen, making you groan in pain, then he shifted into the “I don’t care about the lesson” mood,texting…or at least that was what you thought.
The truth was that Kyungjun spent the whole class staring at you. He had been doing so a lot in the past weeks, shifting his eyes away only when you noticed it. He didn’t know why, but there was something leading him to you, even if he hated it, and acted like the meanest person on earth (not that he was nice, but he had never put you into troubles).
He wasn’t used to it, nor to your constant happy mood; and since those feelings were unknown to him he would find any reason to come for you, even when you were doing nothing besides being a nice teammate.
That day your team had been pretty unlucky:the teacher had decided the members on her own, meaning that if you had to play with good athletes like Hyunho and Kyungjun himself, who was the captain, you had to put up also with those, like Sungpyo and Yoonseo, who were terrible at PE.
She got called out lots of times by everyone, but to Kyungjun the real problem was Sungpyo; or better, he was the victim whose ass was supposed to be constantly beaten in order to scare everyone and get great results.
Hyunho tried many times to stop the bully, but he eventually got kicked out due to a so called “litigious behaviour” ; so, in order to calm everyone down, you tried to spread positivity, like you always used to do.
“It’s okay, next time we’ll score something”
“It can happen, I made mistakes too”
“Don’t think about it and let’s have fun! It’s about having a good time, not winning”
You were dispensing smiles and comfort as you saw that someone was actually on the edge of tears, but Kyungjun got even more mad:
“Ya! Yn! -he called you in the middle of the first break- what the fuck are you doing?!” he was yelling, his eyes burning like fire
“What…what do you mean?” You asked, a little bit scared
“What do I mean? Do you think that’s how you make a shitty team work?!”
“I’m just trying to be positive…they’re all stressed out…” you justified yourself
“Really? -he laughed- are you fucking kidding me?! “Trying to be positive”…bullshit. Do you know what you can do with your stupid positivity? Go home and stay there. Idiot” he scoffed
“But…”
“No buts. You’re getting on my nerves. What’s so funny to be constantly smiling and laughing? Uh? Come on tell me! Be serious for once, and let the captain be the captain. Go to the back lines, you suck anyway in the front” he shrugged his shoulders, pointing to the back of the field.
You looked around you, realising that everyone was staring, the your eyes rested on Kyungjun:
“You know what? -you were holding your tears back- fuck you and this stupid game! Get a new player to cover your shitty back lines. Asshole!” you yelled, running away to hide in the first empty classroom you had found.
Kyungjung looked at you:something inside him shattered as soon as he realised you were terribly hurt. “Did I…did I cover the sunshine with my clouds?” he asked himself, feeling guilty as hell.
You spent the whole lesson crying in a corner of the room, next to the blackboard, suffocating your sobs in order to not be found by anyone. You didn’t want people to see you in those conditions, you had promised yourself to be always happy to make everyone around you happy as well. Your friends used to call you “sunshine” for a reason, and you loved it, just like you loved keeping up your good mood. Why Kyungjun had to ruin everything? You hated him. He was always so mad, so mumbling, so rude…was it so hard for him to relax at least once? And if it was, who allowed him to ruin everyone’s mood? No one!
The more you thought about it, the more you felt sad. You kept seeing his angry face, and his yells wouldn’t stop resonating in your mind. You brought your knees to your chest, hiding your face in the cloth of your tracksuit…until you heard someone.
A hand rested on your leg, squeezing it. You rose your head, seeing Kyungjun kneeling in front of you.
“Go away” you scoffed
“You need to see something”
“I don’t want to. Leave me alone”
“It’s urgent. Come on” he grabbed your arm, forcing you to follow him to the backyard.
“I swear to God if it’s something stupid…” you weren’t even able to finish the phrase as wonder got your mouth to open wide
“You tell me if that’s something stupid to you” Kyungjun said, carelessly.
You didn’t know what to answer, you were too busy staring at the flowering cherry blossom in front of you…the first of the season.
“When did you find it?” you asked, grabbing the boy’s arm
“Yesterday, during the break”
“Why didn’t you show it to me?!” sadness had already left your body. It took nothing to make you happy, Kyungjun thought, but he was okay with that. He didn’t want to see you crying ever again.
“I wanted to, but I forgot. That’s just a stupid tree after all…” he shrugged his shoulders, hiding a smile
“That’s not! -you started jumping- that’s the first cherry blossom of the season!!” you then exclaimed, taking a bunch of pictures.
“You good now?” he asked, still cold. His facade was hard to fall.
“What do you mean?” you blinked
“Are you okay now? You were crying…”
“Yes, I cried cuz you’re a rude asshole” you crossed your arms, giving him your back.
Kyungjun stepped closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulder:
“I crossed the line…” he talked
For a second you were surprised…was he apologising for the first time in his life?!
“But you got me angry there. Don’t do that again” he scoffed, letting you go with a path on the shoulder.
Of course he wasn’t, not openly, not that time, but you knew his intentions when he showed you that tree:he was aware of the fact that he had fucked up, and was trying to fix things in his own way.
“I did not made you angry…you were born angry” you said, sticking your tongue out.
Kyungjun didn’t reply, he simply put his hands in his pockets and walked away; but, once again, he was smiling behind your back.
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heavenlyhischier · 4 months
Note
Hi!!! My love I am so excited for your celebration!!
Could you do these prompts with Jack Hughes? ❛ we're going to fuck right here? what if someone sees us? ❜ ❛ let me come in you, please. i want to fill you up. ❜
NOT SUPER HAPPY WITH IT BC IM WRITING THIS AT WORK BUT ENJOY ILY
warning: MINORS DNI 18+ CONTENT BELOW THE CUT— smut, unprotected sex
Summers had always been your favorite time of the year, and that feeling only grew when you started dating Jack two years ago. You now found yourself at their lake house a good majority of your summer, spending your time on the boat or just outside while you enjoyed the warm air as the sun beat down on your skin. It brought a whole new meaning to summer for you, and you were eternally grateful that it was Jack who had done that for you.
Everyone had decided to have a more relaxed day, branching off to do their own things until the evening. You, of course, ended up outside by the water, splayed out on the lounger as you let the sun hit your skin. Jack was sitting next to you, and you thought he was scrolling through your phone, but his eyes were dragging the length of your body. He was taking in every dip, every curve, every freckle as if it was the first time he’s seen you with a bikini on before, and it was causing all of the blood to rush to his cock.
“Baby,” He called out, voice rippling through the breeze and breaking you away from your thoughts, “C’mere.”
You propped yourself up on your elbows, sliding your sunglasses to the top of your head to narrow your eyes at him, “Why? We’re not gonna fit on the chair together.”
“Just want you,” He shrugged, a coy smile toying at his lips, “We’ll fit, just gotta sit on my lap.”
You let out a soft laugh, getting off of the chair to take the few steps needed over to him. He gently pat his thighs, gesturing you to straddle them as he gave you a playful wink. Grabbing onto his shoulders, you placed your knees on either side of him, careful to not slip off the chair, and relaxed against him. You immediately felt his bugle pressing to your inner thigh, and heat flooded everywhere in your body.
“Jack,” You mumbled, “Let’s go inside.”
He gripped your hips, pushing you down on his erection as he let out a small moan. Your eyes flutter closed when he adjusts your body so your center is pushing against him, the pressure moving from your thigh to your clit. With your finger nails digging crescent shaped marks in his skin, you repeat yourself in hopes that he would get the hint, but he shakes his head.
“What? We’re going to fuck right here? What if some sees us,” You whisper though no one’s around to hear you anyways.
“They won’t, baby, I promise. Need you right now,” He groaned, “Please.”
Despite the fear of getting caught, you couldn’t help but feel a little exhilarated by the thought too. Jack’s eyes are boring into yours, wide and pleading as he waits for your response. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth as you let out a small nod, and Jack is quick to lift the the both of you so he can tug his shorts down his legs enough to let his cock spring free.
“It’s okay,” He assured you as he watched your eyes dart around you, “No ones going to come out here, and no one can see us from the water.”
You swallowed thickly as let out a deep breath, letting yourself focus on the situation in front of you rather than the possibility of what could happen. Jack reached a hand up to brush your hair behind your ear, silently asking you if it was okay to keep going. In response, you pull your bottoms to the side and grab the base of his dick, dragging it through the wetness between your folds.
“Shit,” He hissed when your grip tightened as you lined him up with your entrance.
You let out a breathy, whiny moan as you sink onto him, his thick length filling you up entirely until you couldn’t take anymore. Your hands fly back up to his shoulders to steady yourself as you wait for the dull pain to subside. Jack is letting out a string of quiet moans as he feels your walls clench around him as you adjust to his size, his hips twitching with the desire to buck into you. He doesn’t mind the sharp sting from your nails in his shoulder, the only feeling he cares about is the way you feel wrapped around him.
After what feels like forever to Jack, he watches as you lift your hips up before slowly rocking back down against him. He pulls you into his chest, his lips capturing your own in a passionate kiss as you set the pace. The pads of his fingers are harshly pressing into your flesh as he tries to control himself, but the way you dragged your pussy against him was sure to ruin any self control he thought he had.
“You feel so good, baby,” He groaned against your lips, his hands slowly beginning to move you at his pace, “Being such a good girl. Taking my cock when anyone could see you.”
Your movements are slow and shallow, the way you’re sitting on him not providing you with enough room to do anymore than that, but Jack is quick to take over. He’s holding you tightly as he slams into you, your moans loud as they bounce off the trees and across the water. The desire to stay quiet long forgotten as the man beneath you hits into you deeper and harder with each thrust.
He didn’t want to let go of your hips due to the unstable nature of the chair, and since Jack knew your body better than his own soemtimes, he knew how to guide you to your release with just his cock. He could feel your walls flutter around him, and he knew that you were about to reach your breaking point, but so was he. He never lasted long when you were on top of him, the sight alone was enough to send him to orgasm.
“Let me cum in you, please. I want to fill you up,” He whines as he nearly sends himself over the edge.
“Okay,” You manage to force out through strangled moans.
His hips stutter underneath you as your orgasm is tearing through your body and you have to bite his shoulder to prevent yourself from screaming out. Jack is a mumbling mess of moans and curse words as he shoots his load into you, filling you up with his cum as his movements slow down. Your moans turn into whimpers as he carefully continues to rock himself into you, the feeling proving to be a bit too much for your arching core.
“Jack, how are we going to clean up before going inside? I don’t have a towel,” You ask, slight panic settling in your chest as you snap your head up to meet his gaze.
“We’re right by the water baby. We’ll be fine.”
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eddiesbug · 2 years
Note
imagine best friend!james coming back from a really bad night out/date/hook up/idk stuck in subspace and going to ur house so you just tease him until he's crying and begging for you take care of him so you do :((
this is so much longer than i intended i’m v sorry😭😭
James sniffles quietly as he stumbles through your front door, crashing into the table and knocking over a vase before he even gets his shoes off. You rush down the stairs, eyes softening as you take in his state. His whole face is flushed a brilliant red and his eyes are drooping. He’s well and truly gone.
“Jamie,” you murmur, “What’s going on?”
“‘m sorry,” he says, frantically rearranging the flowers in the vase - peonies, a myriad of whites and pinks - and setting them down.
“That doesn’t matter. What happened?” You hold your hand out, letting him tentatively clutch your fingers before you lead him to the sofa. You nudge him until he’s sitting, settling cross legged beside him and brushing the damp curls from his face. “C’mon, talk to me.”
“It was so bad,” he whimpers, “She l-left me there after she was done. Feel all bad.”
“She didn’t help you out? Didn’t let you finish?” you ask. You’re seething on the inside but remain composed for his sake. The last thing you want is to push him further into subspace. He shakes his head, pawing at your chest and leaning into your touch.
“She wasn’t even nice. Not like you,” he mumbles, nuzzling your neck, “You smell good.”
“Thanks, Jamie,” you breathe, resting your forehead against the very top of his head. He nearly passes out when you start running your fingers through his locks, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into his forehead. “That nice?”
“Mm,” he agrees, climbing into your lap. “D’ya know I love you?” he asks suddenly.
“I love you too, sunshine,” you giggle, “You know you’re my bestest friend.”
“No,” he whines, “Love you even more than that!” You kiss his head.
“We’ll talk about that tomorrow, alright?” He immediately assumes the worst from your statement, eyes welling with tears. His arms wrap around your waist and he rests his face in the crook of your shoulder, seeking comfort from you even when you’re the one causing him distress. You stumble over your words to soothe him. “No, sunshine, that’s not what I meant! I just wanted to wait until you felt better to talk about it. Of course I love you, Jamie. How could I not?”
“Promise?”
“Promise. Now, what do you need, baby?” Your hands graze his sides and he murmurs unintelligibly, not even aware that he’s grinding into your lap. “Needy thing,” you laugh, “You want me to help you?” He nods, pressing himself into you harder.
“Please, please.”
“Words, baby,” you tease. His lower lip quivers as he desperately tries to hold the tears in.
“Please. Please touch me,” he whimpers. You trail your hand down his body agonisingly slow, your only real motive to see him squirm. “Fuck, please. I’ll be good!” He grunts, head lolling as he bucks his hips towards you. Reaching into his trousers, you push them down just enough for his erection to spring free; you spit into your hand, gripping his cock in your fist and pumping a couple of times. His reaction is beyond perfect; he moans, thrusting into your hand and grasping at your t-shirt wantonly.
“Shh, shh,” you hush, carding your free hand through his curls. He’s already close, he’s throbbing in your hand. “‘s alright, sunshine. Just relax f’me.”
“Don’t stop,” he chokes, keening as you run your thumb over the head of his dick. “O-oh my merlin. Fuck!” Before you can get another word out, he’s shuddering and spilling into your hand. You coax him through, murmuring sweet praises to him all the while.
“So good f’me, baby. Such a good boy.” He wraps his arms around your neck, needing your comfort. “‘ve got you. Let’s get you to bed, alright.” You stand, giggling as James wraps his whole body around yours, even as you walk to the bathroom. You clean him up with a wet flannel, peppering him with kisses and affection as you do so.
“You so much nicer than h-her,” he hiccups, holding his arms up and pouting. “Want you.”
“You have me,” you say as you replace his clothes with clean ones; you always keep spare clothes for him at your house, seeing as he’s there so much.
You get him settled in your bed, holding him close as he grumbles and gripes. You massage his neck and shoulders until he’s putty in your hands, eyes closed in complete bliss. You really do love him; he’s the sweetest, most caring person you’ve ever met. You gaze down at him - he’s out like a light, dozing against your neck - and kiss his head. He’s your sunshine.
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bright-side20 · 4 months
Text
Elain Archeron/The seer 🌸
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Art by book_s150
_In greek mythology seers are often given their power by divine powers, and the visions they have are considered messages from gods for a purpose.
_Mor about Elain’s Vision:
“There is a reason why Elain is seeing these things. She was right about the other queen turning old, about the Ravens’ attack—why is she being sent this image? Why is she hearing this queen? It must be vital. If we ignore it, perhaps we’ll deserve to fail.”
I believe the cauldron gifted Elain such a powerful ability – the literal control of the future – because it saw her heart, recognizing that she could use this power properly for the better. That's why it didn't hurt her when it lured her, and why it purred when she stabbed the king because she had done what she had to.
With all the hints about the dusk court in silver flames, and now that Bryce is in Prythian, the plot of acotar is heading towards freeing the dusk court.
_ Nesta felt that she had been brought to the prison to take the harp, the instrument in which the people of the Dusk Court were probably imprisoned :
"She had the creeping feeling she’d been brought here. Not by the Cauldron or the Mother or the Harp. By something vaster. Something that stretched into the stars carved all around them."
_Elain:
"Elain began praying to the Fae’s foreign gods"
_Bryce :
“You think the gods have something to do with all this?” Again, the hair on her arms rose; the star on her chest dimmed and went dark.... “After this spring, I can’t help but wonder if there is something out there. Guiding all this. If there’s some game afoot that’s … I don’t know. Bigger than anything we can grasp.”
“What do you mean?”
'......' all of us, the Vanir … we all came from elsewhere. We were immigrants into Midgard. But what became of our home worlds? Our home gods? Do they still pay attention to us? Remember us?”
And then she ended up in Prythian 😃
Since the whole thing is planned by divine powers, and Elain is a seer who receives visions from divine powers for specific purposes—whether guiding, as when she told them about Vassa, warning, as when she told Feyre about the twin ravens, or shaping the course of events, like when she stabbed the king of Hybern to save Nesta and Cassian and directly helping in winning the war —I believe that she also received a vision about Bryce coming to Prythian and maybe other visions about the dusk court.
_Amren to Rhys :
Do not forget that Nesta herself—and Elain, with whatever powers she has—is here. Feyre is here.All three sisters blessed by fate and gifted with powers to match your own.
Yet, antis believe her story will be about leaving the NC and becoming an emissary. Nah, her power won't be wasted like that, and she won't leave her sisters; they are literally blessed and reunited by Fate.
_Amren :
you are immune to the influence and power of the Trove. You might use them, yes, but they cannot be used upon you.” A glance to Elain. “Either of you.”
And since the people of the Dusk Court were imprisoned using the harp as it had been hinted :
“ I think someone very wicked used this last.” She stared into the darkness above. “I think they used it to … to trap their enemies and their enemies’ children into the stone itself.” Was that what had been happening to her just now? The Harp had been pushing her into the rock, fusing her soul with it?
The only one who can deal with the power of a made object without being hurt, the only one capable of rescuing the people of the Dusk Court now, is Elain, the cauldron-made seer. Elain, who it had gifted with such powers, found her so lovely it had wanted to give her something.
_Nesta took death, what could the cauldron have given Elain?.... Perhaps rebirth
And then we'll have the three sisters representing the circle of life: Feyre for life, Nesta for death, and Elain for rebirth.
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tw1l1te · 1 month
Text
The Final Promise₊˚✩⊹
Chapter 2
Linked Universe x reader
Warnings: Angst, fluff, soft and domestic, suggestive themes
Authors note: I was too excited to not post this lmao :3c
Time seemed to stop, and you didn’t mean by the Old Man.
Time literally seemed to halt. You stared at Rusl, trying to find any signs of lying or amusement in his eyes, as if this was some joke. A cruel, twisted joke.
“W-what?” you asked, the only word you could muster. You could feel your fingers shake on the table. You didn’t want to believe what Rusl said, or did you? You weren’t sure. 
You weren’t sure if you’d accepted the fact on whether or not you were coming home ever again, but you didn’t think it would happen now, or so soon. Maybe Hylia wanted to see how your head would react. A twisted game for her, like it always is.
“Are you sure that’s what she said? Maybe she meant something else-"I know what she said. I may be old, but I saw what she wrote clear as day. There’s another mirror.”
Before anyone could say anything else, you stormed out of the cottage, the door squeaking on it hinges as you storm out.
“Y/n! Wait!!” Hyrule yells after you.
Before you could stop yourself to calm down, you break into a spring, heading straight towards the forest. You needed to run. Run. RUN.
This couldn’t be happening. You researched and combed through Hyrule Castle’s archives to find any sliver of hope that you’d be able to come home. Even if it said it was impossible, you never found anything to begin with. You had no answers.
You don't know when you stopped running, you panted as you sat up against a tree, silent tears running down your cheeks and down your neck. Breathing was so difficult, you began hiccuping and hyperventilating, gripping onto your hair for any kind of grounding back into reality. That’s when you felt something wet on your forehead.
Looking up, you were relieved for it to just be Wolfie, or Twilight. 
“Twilight you shouldn’t have followed me.” you whispered into his fur.
Twilight turned back into his Hylian form, your face still in his pelt. 
“I needed to make sure you were okay. Can’t leave you alone, especially in Faron Woods. Who knows what’s still out here,” he murmured into your hair, combing through your sweaty locks. He kissed the top of your forehead, hesitating before pulling back.
“It’s gonna be okay, Y/n. I promise. We’ll be with you, every step of the way, ok? We’re gonna find you a way to go home. Whether it be this lead or if we find something else.”
You sighed. Twilight was always the more outwardly calm person in the chain, alongside Time and Warriors. 
“Twilight that’s the thing… I’m not even sure if I want to go home. It’s probably been years back home, hell I don’t even know if I have my apartment or my friends or… But its not like I don’t want you, y’know? I’ve been dreaming of going home since I first came here, I’d been up for nights at a time just researching in the underground library archives. I-I don’t know what to do or think, Twi.” you rambled, voice breaking at the end, letting more tears slip out.
“Although I don’t know exactly what you’re feelin’, I’m here for you, whatever it is that happens. We’re all here for you.”
He takes a breath.
“Speaking of the others, we should head back to the village, the others are probably worried sick about you.”
You nodded without a word, getting up and making back to Ordon Village together, Twilight wrapping his pelt around your shoulders. It smelled like him, you thought. 
~
Twilight never gives anyone his pelt, its the one thing he sees as his. So why’d he give it to you? He has no idea. Instinct, he thinks. It’s cold, you needed it more than him. He looks down at you, your pink cheeks and wet lashes making you look more fragile and doll-like. Your cute nose sniffing every few seconds, breathing in the cold air. Your ears were so small, littered with at least 3 or 4 piercings, one of which was a triforce. 
Twilight smiles slightly. He always liked the little pieces of “memorabilia” you had of them. It was incredibly strange and unsettling when they first found out, but he sees it more as like your belonging to them admiration of them.
Twilight’s train of thought stopped for a moment.
Where the hell did that thought come from?
Before he could ruminate on his psyche, he’s shaken out of his thoughts by Wind yelling “Oh thank fucking Hylia!”
~
You came back into Twilight’s treehouse, heading toward the bathroom to take a warm bath. You noticed that the tub was already filled, hot steam coming off the surface of the water. You’d have to thank whoever drew you the bath.
Stripping your clothes, you set them in a pile near the door. You step into the tub, wincing slightly at the hot water making contact with your skin. It was a bit too hot for you, but you knew the water will cool off fast enough, so you powered through it.
You sighed. This was nice. Even with the chaotic stream of thoughts coursing through your head, the bath seemed to dull it, even for just a moment. You grab your hair and start combing through it, no doubt getting knots from running through the woods earlier. You look at the necklace Four made for you a few months ago. It was to commemorate a year being with the Chain, which in retrospect should’ve made you sad, but it made you extremely happy and grateful for everyone in the group
You knew it was much easier to come across rarer metals and jewels here than back home, but you were still just as in shock when you realized what it was made of. You remember sobbing from joy when you received it, as you never held something so expensive and meaningful in your entire life.
The necklace was made of metal sourced from Death Mountain but you had no clue what the gem in the triangle shaped cavity was. It looked like emerald, but the boys said it wasn’t that, and that they won't tell you. They were so petty at times.
You were startled out of your thoughts when there was a knock at the door.
“I brought you some fresh clothes, Dove.” Ah Sky, honestly you were a little relieved it wasn’t Legend or Wars, knowing they’d say something snarky or suggestive.
“Come in Sky.” 
You could hear the cogs turning in his head for a moment before he entered, red in the face. You almost laughed at what you were seeing.
Sky turned his head away from you and covered his eyes, just to spare you some dignity.
“I-uh gave you one of my older shirts since you don’t have any other clean ones and its thicker, so it’ll help keep you warm and it has-”
“Sky, for the love of god you’re making this more awkward than it has to be. You’re sweet for being so thoughtful, but we’re both adults Pumpkin.” you mused, chuckling a bit.
Sky finally made eye contact with you, but still avoided your eyes for the most part.
“Right. Um, well, I’ll just leave these on the chair then.”
Sky then stared at you. Not in a creepy way, just in admiration and awe. Luckily, the rest of your body was hidden under the bubbles of the soap in the water, so its not like he could see anything anyway.
He then walked up to you and sat down outside of the tub, still gazing at you.
“I was so worried about you earlier, Songbird. Are you alright now?” he asked, worry crossing his face.
You sighed. Ever the most thoughtful. Bringing your hands from under the water, you cup his cheeks looking right into his eyes.
“Don’t worry so much about me, Sky. I’m fine now. Twilight calmed me down a bit, but you know how shocking such information can be. I just need a bit to process, y’know? I’ll be fine though.”
You gave him a small smile, trying to read the thoughts behind his eyes. He just kept looking at you. You swear he looked at your lips a few times. Biting his lip, he asked “Can I wash your hair for you? No offense at all, I just wanted to offer because you never know when the next time we’ll get to be clean again.”
You nodded with a smile, sitting back against the porcelain tub, handing Sky the glass bottle of soap. As soon as he lathered his hands, he started massaging your scalp, a feeling you’ve missed so much. 
“Fuck, Sky, that feels so good.” you said, not realizing the tone or implication you said it in.
Sky’s breath hitched, but you didn’t catch it, too busy on the sensations on your scalp.
“Yeah?” he whispered, looking at your bare shoulders that were littered with scars from your journey with them, wishing he could wash them away. He felt his ears get hot from your soft sounds, happy that you felt so comfortable and wishing you’d make those sounds more often  domestic with him.
Suddenly the movement stops. Opening your eyes, you turn your head over your shoulder, almost jumping at how close his face is. Your gaze flickered to his lips, almost as if it was instinct.
“Sky… I-” “I’ll let you finish up.” And with that, he left, softly shutting the door behind him.
~
What the HELL is he thinking???
Sky gripped his hair, walking down the hallway, panting slightly.
He was so… close to you. He could smell the soap on your skin. He could see the different colors in your eyes. He felt strange. He knew he liked you… and not just as companions or friends… he wanted more. He felt happier, lighter since you came around. He genuinely laughed for the first time in ages.
It seemed like there was a spark of sorts between the two of you, but he didn’t want to assume or jump into anything… yet, at least. He needed a minute to calm down.
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eternal-kosmo-ghoul · 4 months
Text
*°:⋆ₓₒ day 13. blowjob
.。❅*⋆⍋*∞*。 “holiday blow”
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — ❤︎ as iii is writing letters to his loved ones, you decided to give him a little treat underneath his desk
pairing: iii x gn!reader
a/n: i’m actually so ass at coming up with titles for my christmas event 😟 made this while i was sick, so it’s lazily written.
cw: nsfw content. blowjob. semi-public sex. kinda subby vibes from iii.
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“mmmh… you look so good on your knees, too.” —❤︎
┅✦┅
“whatcha doinnnn’?”
“writing letters for the boys.”
“oh fun! make sure to write to santa to get me that teacup puppy for christmas.”
iii just chuckled and rolled his eyes at your lame attempt of a joke, which was to definitely get him to buy you that adorable little puppy. though, iii saw right through your devious little scam.
“not happening, y/n.” he joked back, and he grunted when you punched his shoulder playfully.
“awww come on!!! it’s so cute! you can’t say no to this adorable face!” you said while waving your arms around, pulling up a very poorly printed picture of a teacup puppy. the ink was printed so badly it made the face of the pooch look disfigured, and iii stifled a laugh.
“i can say no, actually. that thing looks like it’s on life support.” iii said sassily, shoving the picture away from his face. to this, you gasped dramatically while falling over his desk.
“oh great heavens! my best friend won’t get me the gift i oh so desperately need! this is anarchy i tell you!!” you monologued rather interestingly, throwing in some poor shakespeare gestures that was paired with bad acting.
iii just raised an eyebrow at your shenanigans, clearly not convinced.
“not happening.”
“oh come on, iii! i’ll do anything! even the most humiliating thing ever!”
the quilt iii held between his fingers only continued to write fancy, honeyed words across the paper. he just sighed heavily, not thinking you’d actually go drastic measures for some tiny puppy as a gift.
“annnything?”
“anything i tell you!”
“you sure about that?”
“yes i am! i’ll even… uhhh..”
iii kept his eyes glued to the paper, clearly not convinced by your obnoxious explaining and weird, theater gestures. he swore you were high at some point. clearly, this was getting nowhere.
the bassist just dropped his pen in the ink bottle and put an arm on his desk, looking up at you with a raised eyebrow. “well?”
you didn’t even know what came over you, because you blurted out:
“i’ll even suck your dick!”
… well.
that’s an idea that certainly piqued iii’s interest.
and you seemed sooo confident about your answer too, crossing your arms and holding your ground. though, iii could see through those playful eyes that you were actually nervous about what you just said to him.
oh we’ll, he’ll humor you for a bit.
“oh? you serious about that?” iii spoke teasingly, his fingers subconsciously playing with the buckle of his belt, getting turned on from the idea of you going down on him.
you nodded, still keeping your confident face up. “absolutely.”
this was a nice turn of events. iii smirked and rolled his chair out to make space for you, allowing for you to crawl under the little nook within his desk. the bassist rolled back into place, and grabbed the feather pen again, feeling your eager fingers quickly make work of his belt and tug his pants down. damn, you really were excited.
“ahh… i’m starting to think this is less about the puppy, and more about you just wanting to suck me off.” iii commented absentmindedly, his pen dragging across the paper as he wrote his letters to his loved ones, occasionally acknowledging your presence by moving his free hand under the desk to stroke your hair.
“mmmh… you look so good on your knees, too.”
you just whined in response, not even bothering to reply to iii’s words. soon, you pulled down his boxers to his ankles, his hard cock springing free. he heard you audibly gasp at his size, and he just snickered.
“impressive, huh?” he mumbled, gripping your hair and pulling you closer to the head of his cock, the tip leaking with precum.
“maybe.” you mumbled back, putting one hand on his thigh and the other on iii’s shaft, holding the base with a firm grip that had him groaning.
“nnngh…” he sighed out, hand shaking a bit, hindering his ability to write letters. iii shook his head and gripped your hair tightly.
“don’t just sit there. suck.”
you could hear the desperation in iii’s voice, just wanting to feel your tongue swirl around his dick like a lollipop. it was such a lewd thought, but you loved it. you didn’t waste any time, and opened your mouth, taking him in whole and savoring the satisfying, salty taste of his precum. you could tell how horny he was, from the way he was gripping your hair and forcing you down more onto his hard shaft as you sucked him off.
“f-fuck.” he grumbled, trying to shift his attention on the letters he was writing, but you were too good at sucking him off. iii was getting desperate, completely dropping his pen and gripping onto the side of his desk while he bucked his hips into your mouth.
“s-shit. take it all, oh you’re s-so good at this…” iii whimpered, all of his attention on you now as you gave him the blowjob of a lifetime. you could feel the head of his cock hit the back of your throat, and constrict around it.
the feeling made iii throw his head back with pleasure, letting out a guttural moan while you whimpered around his dick.
“fuck. i-i’m gonna cum, y/n.” he warned, and you took this opportunity to take him as deep as you possibly could.
“s-shit! ahh!”
his eyes widened underneath his face mask, and he moaned loudly as he shot his seed down your throat, watching you swallow all of his cum in a single gulp. he let out a loud pant and pulled your head off of his cock, your mouth coming off the head with a popping sound.
he groaned heavily, and looked at your face. he chuckled as he brushed his thumb over your swollen lips, making you whine.
you giggled and nuzzled his hand.
“so…. can i get that puppy now?”
he chuckled at your words, and ruffled your hair.
“maybe, dollface.” he said with a grin, caressing your cheek. he lifted his mask, and pressed a kiss against your forehead.
“maybe.”
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traveler-at-heart · 9 months
Text
What we were
Chapter 2 
A/N: Background into the What we were story. Mentions of cheating, character death.
PS I didn’t mean to make you all hate Natasha 😭 I’ve just had this story for a long time in my mind and wanted to write it. Baby’s been through it and I promise in other chapters she’ll be better if that makes sense lol.
Six Months Earlier
It was a warm spring day. Flowers were blooming. In no time, grass would grow back to cover the grave.
As Clint’s coffin was lowered to the ground, it felt like time had stopped, or it had been altered.
You were all pretty much retired. The Avengers were a thing of the past.
So why was he on that mission with Kate Bishop?
Carol, still grieving over Maria, only sent flowers.
Natasha was away from everyone else. No one could approach her, not even you. She’d only talk to Anya or Laura.
It felt like she was punishing the team. 
You are all to blame.
Natasha almost threw Kate across the room the minute she tried to apologize.
That was the first wedge between her and Yelena.
She ignored everyone’s disapproving stares as well. And you knew what that distance meant.
Nothing and no one would get in her way to avenge Clint.
You were scared.
And rightfully so.
Natasha didn’t sleep, barely ate and simply stopped being present in your lives.
You heard her scoff and protest everytime you brought it up.
Laura is raising three kids on her own. And you think you have it hard?
One day, you begged her to come with you to therapy.
It could be good for us.
She agreed, if only to shut you up. Natasha never made it to that first session, nor did she apologize for her absence.
For the first time in your life, you could actually picture what it was like in the Red Room.
No feelings, no humanity.
Just a mission.
Before summer break, you asked Yelena to organize a family trip to celebrate Anya’s birthday.
Maybe Natasha could speak to Alexei or Melina. Maybe they’d understand.
Natasha refused.
“It’s for your daughter’s birthday,” you pleaded.
“We’ll do something else. Just the three of us. I promise”
Because she looked ashamed for the first time in months, you believed her.
It was a lie.
Yelena flew the next week, agreeing to look after Anya until school started again.
Your plan was simple; you’d help Natasha find all the information she needed. You’d finish the mission and then go back to normal.
The day after Yelena and Anya left, you went back to the Compound.
That’s where your wife was most nights, alone. Even Bucky had moved out years ago.
Still, you remembered every corner of this building.
It was your home, a long time ago.
Yours and Natasha’s.
Your first kiss, your first night together… It all happened here.
Curious about the things left in your old room, you walked over there, not even bothering to knock.
And there, you found Carol putting on a shirt and shorts, while Natasha walked out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel.
“Shit” her skin paled the second you locked eyes. “Y/N, please”
The room was spinning, you couldn’t breathe and you were certain your heart would explode any minute now.
Natasha ran behind you, pulling you by the wrist to make you turn.
She was screaming, crying, begging. All the things you had done for the last four months to keep your family in one piece.
Going to Wanda’s old room, you locked the door, barely listening to her pleads on the other side.
It was the strangest feeling in the world. Your energy was drained, as if you’d come back from a mission and were fatally wounded.
Natasha was still there when you opened the door, a couple of hours later. You couldn’t feel your face and your voice sounded foreign as you spoke.
“You have until tomorrow to move out of the house”
“Please, don’t”
You walked past her, without sparing a single glance her way.
Were you dreaming? Because you didn’t feel anything as you left the building, driving straight to Bucky’s house.
But when he opened the door and you could see how concerned he was, you finally broke down.
Your family was destroyed.
And you couldn’t save it.
/
Taglist: @wandabear, @thatonebrazilian, @canvascoloredin
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ourmadmusings · 10 months
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‘Come home,’ the Hexie mountain said, to begin another end - 
Miguel O’Hara is a proud man - he’s built a reputation from zero, the leader of the spider-people, tasked with the fate of the multiverse. He’s proud of the burden he’s placed on himself, if he didn’t shoulder it, who would? With such great responsibility, it warrants great sacrifice. Sacrifice is something he’s very friendly with, the concept hangs on him like a tattered blanket, the idea that at any moment, it can and will get worse.  And worse it does get. He comes back from a long and tedious mission only to find a smiling Jess at his control center, “I think I found someone you’d be keen to meet, O’Hara.” She’s standing proud, back straight as you peek around her back, bent slightly at the waist, you give a small wave. You’re smiling, despite the mask wrapped around your head, “hi, I’m fro-” “What did I say about bringing people back here without explicit permission?” He’s curt. His mask is intimidating, the red stands starkly around the black, but you can tell he's scrutinizing your every breath. “Well, hey, give’em a chance, will’ya? You haven’t seen what-”  “No.” He’s turning his back to the two of you as quickly as he’d come in. “No variants that I don’t approve of in this operation. Protocol, you know that.” You feel yourself shrink back behind Jess subconsciously, trying to escape the fire. He’s quick to leave the two of you without another word. Jess offers some supportive words, that he’s not nearly as bull-headed as he’s pretending to be, just give him time to warm up. She sends you back home with a wry smile.
You fill your time at home, in your own world, doing your routine rounds. Keeping things in check when it happens - a soft hum turns into a static buzz, it pulls the hair to stand up on the back of your neck. The littering of pebbles on your building's rooftop start to pull away from the flat top, as if fishing wire had pulled them up in a pathetic magic trick. They come crashing down as a chorus of car alarms ring out around you, your feet carry you to the edge and you stare, wide-eyed, as Electro visualizes out of thin air. You take a second to consider the possibilities when you hear a familiar voice - “I knew we’d see more of you, kid.” It’s Jess, coming from behind you, “lend us a hand, let’s show O’Hara what you’re made of, yeah?” She’s smiling at you, springing into action without another word.  You go through the motions with her, and she contains the anomaly, as she put it, so he’s ready for transfer. You’re only catching half of what she’s saying, “come on, Miguel, you’re being obtuse, we could always use an extra hand, we can keep’em on the back burner, let me lend a watch, please?” You hear the device on her wrist sigh, an exasperated fine, and a click. She tosses you a gold watch soon thereafter, “we’ll be in touch, honey.” She’s all smiles, winking at you as she speeds away, a dark cloud opens up, several spider-people emerge, collect the out-of-place Electro, and everything goes silent. 
You get called back to the citadel a few weeks later.  It’s all hustle and bustle, a perky brunet meets you with a rather standoffish spider, he’s all smiles as he pulls you back through the halls, explaining the in’s-and-out’s. He does a bang-up job explaining the transfer systems, containment, how the watches work to connect the web of spiders to one another to help sort out anomalies in the multiverse, it’s our job, he says with hands on his hips, to make sure none of us have to sacrifice more than necessary. You’re trying to convey your understanding from behind the mask, “you can take it off here, you know?” The tall man says, he’d been close on your heels, never really chiming in on your little tour until now, “we’re all pretty safe here. All things considered,” he mumbles the last part, but you tell them you’d be more comfortable keeping it on for now, “ah, you’re probably smart for that,” Hobie finally says. You’re not sure what he means, but you’re thankful he lets it go after that. The tour ends at the control center, you’d been here before, you tell Pav. He’s a little surprised when you tell him you’d even met O’Hara before. Not formally, of course, but he’d made your acquaintance. Hobie laughs, “yeah, well, he ain’t one for chit-chat.”  “Enough,” he finally chimes in, just as curt as you remember, and in habit you shrink into yourself, “don’t you have somewhere else to be?”  “Oh, yeah…” Pav trails off as he grabs Hobie’s arm, pulling him away. They’re quick to say their goodbye’s to you and head off into the hallways, leaving you with mister boss-man himself, alone. He’s bigger this time, it feels like. Or maybe you just feel smaller.  You’re not quick to say anything this time, without his mask, you can see the scowl on his face, he looks tired. The urge to comment bubbles in your guts, but you busy yourself picking at the hem of your glove - “Aren’t you going to introduce yourself, Spider-woman from Earth twenty-fifty-four?” You’re not sure what he means by the Earth part, but you feel your back go rod-straight, “O-oh yeah, sorry I’m-”  “Don’t apologize,” he sounds frustrated, “I already know who you are, I’ve been keeping an eye on you at Jessica’s request.”  “The Spider-woman who brought me here the first time, right? The one who gave me the watch?” You’re trying to keep up with everything, but the way he stalks over to you, eyeing you up and down, scrutinizing your every move is unnerving. You’re sure he’s doing it on purpose, trying to intimidate you, and you hate to admit that it’s working. The hair on the back of your neck has been itching since Pav and Hobie said goodbye. “Yeah, that’s right. Can I ask, why are you keeping your mask on in here?” It sounds like a genuine question coming from him, like he’s a little hurt you don’t trust the safety he’s built yet.  “Oh, just - Uh, just cause.” You smile under the mask, nervous and apprehensive. You don’t want to admit that you’re intimidated by him, the mask being your only source of mock-confidence in situations like this. “It’s just more comfortable.”  “I know that’s a lie, mine gets so muggy I can hardly stand it some days.” He’s turning away from you as he says it, the blase way in which the statement rolls off his tongue surprises you a little. Maybe he’s offering an olive branch, trying to ease you into his presence.  “When I first started all this stuff, I used to keep a dryer sheet tucked behind my head.” You’re speaking before you realize, suddenly embarrassed, “it helped a little, but it was itchy…” you hear him chuckle, a low rumble from his place in front of you, he turns with the comment, “really? I’ve never heard of someone doin’ that, it really worked?”  “Heh - y-yeah, but it would make my hair really greasy, too. I stopped doing it and just changed the material around my mouth to help instead,” your hand flies to the back of your head, the faint itch from the memory lures your hand to scratch.  His eyes crease with a smile, “that’s kind’a funny…”  The quick conversation ends there and he gets to business, telling you where he needs you, what’s expected, and how to properly use his little device to catch an anomaly. He’s trusting you to go with a Peter variant, he tells you Peter B. Parker doesn’t venture out on missions very often anymore, though he’s very familiar with the tech, so he’ll help you, but you were in charge of the heavy lifting on this one - a trial run, he’d said. You thank him for the opportunity and tap at your watch until the portal opens, you step through and start your working-interview for the spider-society.
a/n: lets start from the beginning, how did a guy like you end up with O’Hara wrapped around your little finger? Pt. 1 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4 -
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urwhorecrux · 3 months
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hi!! I really love your writing :) I was wondering if you could write something about sub! draco with fem reader? Like something about him being needy
hi thank you so much i appreciate that a lot <3 and yes ofcc
ˏˋ°*⁀➷ 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘺 - 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘧𝘰𝘺
pairing. sub!draco x dom!fem reader.
summary. reader teases draco in an empty classroom.
warnings. smut, handjobs, praise, degrading, begging, overstimulation, sub/dom characters.
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Many people never knew Draco had different sides, or even a softer side. It was something so special yet surprising to you that he could show you this, that he was so fragile around you and genuinely opened up to you, and knew it was worth trusting you.
The two of you had more than a formed bond, unlike anything else. He appeared as cold and emotionless to everyone else, but with you it completely different.
He had a huge soft spot for you, willing to do anything you asked. Wether he had to beg or even ask to be touched, he’d do it just for you. It was unexpected, yet, you weren’t complaining.
He’d been eyeing you all day, in class, during breakfast in front of his friends, everywhere.
You glance down the corridor, patiently waiting for draco to notice you standing just around the corner. You pull Draco in the empty classroom that was practically abandoned, holding his hand gently.
“What-” he started questioning as you shove him on a desk, until he lay almost flat.
“Draco”, you began, not quite sure of what to say, but you knew you needed him, needed to ruin him, to see how much teasing he could take as well.
“Love, I know you’ve been watching me today, I’m not quite happy with how you’ve been behaving” you said as draco looked at you, nervously avoiding eye contact.
“What have I done?” He asked, slickly lying knowing what he was doing.
“Teasing me, all day, I know you were staring with your pretty eyes, putting your hand higher each second at breakfast?” you gently cup his face with your hands, he practically couldn’t resist you for another second, forcing him to open his mouth and allowing your tounge in.
“ ‘M sorry baby..” he mumbles into your lips, as he grasps your waist and pulls you closer into him.
“Keep your hands to yourself love”, you warned. His eyes glanced around the room, then back to you. He noticed there was that same look in your eyes, the one that loves when he acts innocent and submits to you.
You slowly started teasing below his waist, down to his zipper noticing the tent in his pants.
“So hard already? I barely even touched you”
“Please baby” he whined, eager to take you in. “Please”
“Behave baby, we’ll get there” You slowly unzipped his pants, taking off the pressure of his boxers, his cock springing out.
“Hands behind your back love”, you whisper. you wrap a hand around his swollen cock, using your thumb and index finger carefully teasing his tip, glistening with beads of precum.
He whimpered at the sight of you teasing his roughened tip, smearing the sticky liquid all over.
His head tilts back, bucking hips forwards thrusting around your hand. He loved the feelings of you being in control over him, how you made him obey and be patient.
He feels his high near with slight whimpers getting louder, he knew what was about to come, moaning, knowing he was near the edge.
“Shh…” you whispered, plastering soft kisses along his forehead and neck.
“Please, please im so close”
“Look, you’re leaking already”, he quickened his pace hearing this, soon white thick ropes fall across his thighs and your hand, while his stomach curls in thigh knots in the pit of it.
His whole body begins to shudder, as he pants heavily processing what had happened. “Good boy”, you praise, pulling him in for faint kisses.
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