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jeonqkooks · 7 months

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our beloved summer | jjk (07)

You made a vow to hate Jeon Jungkook ever since he packed up and left you without a single explanation, but when he shows up at your door after years of radio silence, it turns out that maybe your resolve isn’t as strong as you thought.

pairing: producer!jungkook x songwriter!reader genre/warnings: exes au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, swearing, mentions of oc's mother because we know girlie is hella traumatized, mentions of drinking, mentions of an almost physical fight, abandonment issues, jk forgets to practice safe driving for 2 seconds, and uhmmm kissing 🤫, anddd that cliffhanger? 👀 rating: 18+ (minors dni) word count: 10.8k note (1): this is the longest it has taken me to update obs and i do feel pretty guilty about that. but it's finally here now and this is one of the chapters that i'm the most nervous about posting. massive thanks to @daechwitatamic and @wintaerbaer for beta-ing this for me or else i would've screamed cried thrown up and scrapped the whole thing, and to @jeonwiixard for being a wonderful cheerleader as i was writing this, and to everyone in my beloved obs discord server for always being so sweet and kind and putting a smile on my smile every day since the server was created. also to my sunshine ☀︎ for introducing me to the song mentioned below bc HELLO is it not just one of the most obs coded songs ever. love you all my babies <3

series masterpost / playlist ; moodboards ; taglist join our OBS discord server ✨

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

Somewhere in the multiverse There's a me and you that works We never fuck it up We're out there still in love Somewhere in the multiverse Maybe that's enough

multiverse - Maya Manuele ft. PEMRBOKE

Sometimes, whenever you look up at the moon at night, you wonder if Jungkook is doing the same thing.

Even when you fall out of love with someone, it still hurts. It hurts because you once loved them so much it felt like the sky would collapse if you couldn’t be with them. It hurts because the love wasn’t taken from you, but rather it started slipping away on its own, more and more each day until you realize you’re holding onto nothing when there once was everything.

You can’t say that you’re too familiar with that kind of hurt though. You’ve never fallen out of love before.

You don’t think Jungkook is too familiar with it either, at least not when he left you.

You wonder if he thinks about you from time to time and gets sad. You think he does, because you know that he loved you. Something ended for him too. The memories that you shared were his memories too.

You hope that it’s painful for him whenever thoughts of you cross his mind, because that would mean that he cares. That a part of him still cares.

And if he still cares, then he might come back.

Despite the front that you try to parade around, there is a part of you that will always leave your heart vacant for him, regardless of whether or not he would return. It’s a scary thought, one that you would rather avoid at all costs, one that says there will be no one that you love more than you loved Jungkook. Maybe there can’t be another person that you will love at all.

You can come back quietly, like the wind slipping through the crack I leave in the window at night; or you can announce your return resoundingly like a sudden downpour quenching the summer heat. I don’t care. I kept your side of the bed empty and warm, waiting for you to come back. Hoping that you would come home.

[08:47] Yoongi: sure you don’t want me to drive you there? [08:48] Yoongi: i can pick you up in 30 [08:52] You: positive 🤧 i told you i already booked the train. it’s only 4 hours away [08:53] You: i’ll survive, yoongs [08:55] Yoongi: did you not watch Train To Busan? [08:56] You: ? [08:57] Yoongi: what if there’s a zombie apocalypse [09:00] You: yoongi if there’s a zombie apocalypse, how is your CONVERTIBLE supposed to keep me safe [09:01] Yoongi: i’ll put the roof up [09:02] You: stop talking [09:02] You: please stop talking. [09:03] Yoongi: 😡😡😡 [09:03] You: 😇 [09:03] You: gotta get dressed now though. i’ll see u when i get back? :) [09:05] Yoongi: fine [09:06] Yoongi: safe travels. text me when you get there :)

You plop onto your bed with a sigh, glancing at the bag that’s already packed and sitting near your wardrobe, lonely. You stay like that for a while, contemplating whether or not you should bail at the very last minute.

It was not on your bingo card that you’d be here, agonizing over your ex-boyfriend’s brother’s wedding. Nope. Absolutely no one saw it coming.

For fuck’s sake, why would they invite you to a wedding? A celebration of love? It feels like you’re being forced onto a prank show, just waiting for someone to jump out and scream in your face.

You learned that the wedding was for close friends and family only, so it would be a relatively small event, which makes it even more confusing why you were also asked to join. Maybe the world is changing too rapidly and you’re just a little old-fashioned for it, but you really don’t understand why your ex-boyfriend’s family would want you there.

Taehyung and Jimin were invited too; they’re Jungkook’s best friends after all. They’re practically an extension of the family, Jungkook’s brothers by choice. But Taehyung doesn’t come back from his work trip until the day of the wedding, and Jimin… Well, he just doesn’t want to go to a Busan wedding in the middle of winter.

So why are you even going?

You could’ve declined. Said you couldn’t attend because the invitation came in so late. Made up a work trip or a family emergency. There’s a plethora of excuses you could’ve used.

Or you could’ve simply said no. That would’ve been perfectly fine too. No one would even need to ask why.

But maybe it was because his mother had customized the invite with her own handwriting in the back. You would’ve missed it if you hadn’t spent hours meticulously studying the card like someone was going to quiz you. It wasn’t anything special - just We hope to see you there - but you think you’d feel really bad to decline after she’d made the extra effort to ask you to come.

When you told Yoongi that you would be attending Jungkook’s brother’s wedding, he didn’t seem upset. Still cool as a cucumber. Although if he was bothered by the announcement, you don’t think he would’ve let it show. It did take him a minute to take it in, but then he just pecked your cheek and asked if you could bring a plus-one. You both knew that you wouldn’t even if that was an option.

Pushing your body off the bed, you drag yourself to the bathroom to splash some water on your face. Then sunscreen. Then change into the clothes you’d already picked out last night. Your train doesn’t leave for another hour and fifteen minutes, but you want to be there at least twenty minutes early just in case. This is one of your only good habits.

You rub your eyes when you finally haul yourself outside, thinking you must still be dreaming because what is Jungkook’s car doing here?

You blink a few times, expecting the vehicle to disappear in a puff of white smoke.

Spoiler alert: It doesn’t.

The car is in front of you, but the man is nowhere to be found.

You stand there dumbfoundedly, contemplating whether you should wait it out for a little bit to see if he’s actually here. He comes running up to you a couple minutes later, holding two paper cups in his hands, one of them a chai latte. A memory you’d buried long ago comes rushing to the surface. It’s too early for you to be feeling.

“Hi,” he says, his warm breath coming out in a huff of smoke in the crisp morning air.

“Hi?” you mutter dumbly when he trades the bag in your hand for the drink. There’s a moment where you’re genuinely baffled, wondering if this is a memory reel playing right before your eyes. This is your Jungkook, wearing that same old smile whenever he used to come bounding up your dorm building so you could walk to the library together, where he would hang out with you during your shift if he didn’t have classes. “What are you doing here?”

You don’t remember telling him what time your train was, so he’d probably badgered it out of Taehyung or Jimin somehow.

“I thought I could drive us there,” he says. “I texted you about it.”

Well, that explains it. You don’t bother with his dozens of messages anymore. “Oh, uhm, I already booked the train.”

This doesn’t seem to faze him at all. “Free cancellation up to 15 minutes before departure.” Jungkook grins, clearly eager despite your obvious reluctance. It’s too early for this, whatever the hell this is.

When you told him that you had RSVP’d yes to the invitation, he was surprised that you even knew about the wedding. He even seemed nervous that day.

“What if I’d already left?” you ask.

He blinks, then stammers like a confused child. It’s cute, and you have to mentally slap yourself over the head for even thinking that.

“Then I’d go after you.”

How? you scoff internally. Unrealistic.

Regardless, not even an hour ago, you were declining Yoongi’s offer to drive you there. Now, you’re standing here, in front of your ex-boyfriend, contemplating whether or not you should go with him.

“Let’s go,” he says after a minute. “We don’t wanna be stuck in traffic.”

“I haven’t said yes.” Yet. “It’s a 4-hour drive.”

You don’t have to clarify what you mean. He understands it.

You both just stare at each other for a moment, the tension suddenly thickening with every passing second. Four hours on the road. Four hours alone in a car with Jungkook. That’s about two hundred minutes more than you think you can handle.

It’s like he can see right through you. “Don’t think about it,” he says, voice dropping lower. “It’s just a weekend. Everything will still be here for you to think about when we get back.”

In your head, it translates to: All of our shit will still be here when we get back. You can keep being mad at me then.

You hope that’s not true. You hope that when you get back, the things that keep you up at night will simply cease to exist. That in the two days you’ll be gone, a genie will materialize and solve all your problems for you.

Either way, it’s probably for the best that you aren’t mean to him this weekend. You’re stuck with him for the next 48 hours or so; it’ll only stress you out even more if you channel all of your energy into tormenting him. Besides, you’re already the ex girlfriend who has no place alongside his family. You don’t want to be the dark cloud raining on everyone’s parade too.

Maybe you’d already made up your mind when you let him take the bag from you.

For the first half of the drive, you were unconscious.

It’s a useless superpower that you have, the ability to fall asleep anywhere - literally anywhere, including in the passenger seat of your ex-boyfriend’s car while he escorts you to his hometown. Melatonin gummies manufacturers hate you.

You could’ve slept the whole drive, but around the second hour mark, you were startled awake when your body jostled forward, straining against your seatbelt uncomfortably. There was an arm trying to hold you back, despite the seatbelt having done its job well.

“Fuck,” Jungkook curses before he turns toward you, worry written all over his face. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, are you okay?”

You blink, still half asleep. “I’m okay,” you say. The minivan that Jungkook almost rear-ended continues on its merry way, carrying what seems to be a family of five. “What happened?”

He sighs, his outstretched arm retreating back to his side. “I got a bit distracted, that’s all.”

You take in your surroundings then. There’s barely any other cars in sight, no tacky billboard that sticks out like a sore thumb to catch your attention. There’s just the freeway, stretching on empty for all you can see.

“By what?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he says. “Go back to sleep. I’ll wake you when we get there.”

See, you have the superpower of falling asleep anywhere and everywhere, but once you’ve been woken up, it’s not as easy to fall back asleep.

That, and the fact that you’re hungry as shit.

You open your mouth, about to say no, about to offer to drive the rest of the way if Jungkook is tired, but your stomach doesn’t let you get a word out. It growls, filling the space of the car, making you want to chuck yourself out the fucking window and run all the way back to the city. This wouldn’t have happened had you taken the train, because if you had, there would’ve been food services and no one would be subject to hearing your stomach sing like it’s chewing out a small puppy in there. Life is nothing but an endless pit of embarrassment and despair.

Your arms hold themselves tighter around your frame, practically squeezing into your abdomen as you will it to please, please, please be quiet. Jungkook stares at you, and you can tell by the teeny tiny quirk of his lips that he’s trying to bite back a smile. He’s relaxed, but there’s still something hesitant on his face. It takes him a minute before he finally throws the question out.

“Do you want to go to that guksu place that we used-” that we used to go to, “you know the place. The one that’s right off the freeway?”

The sun is out today. The sky unfolds endlessly just outside the window, coloring blue everything your eyes land on. There are strips of clouds scattered here and there, like delicate strokes of white paint on an azure canvas. Even the winter cold has to soften.You bite into your cheek. Don’t think, that’s what he had told you.

Not much about this quaint restaurant has changed. The quirky decorations are still where they used to be, the windows still the same unique stained glass that you never came across anywhere else. You remember the elderly woman who runs the place, even if she doesn’t have a single clue who you are. The golden retriever you used to fawn over every time you stopped by, sits quietly by the door and watches the cars pass by, his fur now graying as weariness begins to settle into those old bones.

You would’ve been displeased if the place had changed, because, well, you don’t like change. But then again, this familiarity is dangerous. It tricks you into thinking that everything is still the same, even you and him. Deludes you into believing that you’re still in love and that he’ll walk out of here holding your hand.

Regardless, the first spoonful has you biting back a smile.

“How is it?” Jungkook asks.

It makes you feel all warm inside, and then a little sad, nostalgic.

“Tastes just the same,” you tell him simply.

“Hmm.”

He lets you satisfy your hunger in peace. It’s the least he can do anyway.

There’s a wall near the back of the restaurant, where people could hang polaroids of themselves and cute handwritten notes. You think if you dig through the hundreds of photos scattered across the space, you might be able to find you and Jungkook there, if you two haven’t already been thrown out long ago to make room for new memories.

He pays for your food after you’re both finished, despite some protesting on your side. As you leave, you’re busy thinking that if you could have a moment to marvel at that far-back wall of memories, if you could find a photo of you and him there, you would probably sneak it into your coat pocket.

It’d be another thing to add to your pile of Jungkook memorabilia - the old clothes in the back of your closet, the stack of dusty polaroids at the bottom of your drawer. You wonder if he keeps anything of yours, maybe an old t-shirt that you forgot to take back. It’s probably unlikely, but a girl can hope.

You miss the way Jungkook glances back, thinking the exact same thing.

You survive the rest of the drive with more ease, probably because of the food. You spend most of the remaining 2 hours leaning against the window, humming to the radio, closing your eyes but not really sleeping. You even forget to be nervous about what is to come.

That is, until the car pulls up to the venue.

It’s absolutely gorgeous, and a lot bigger than you imagined - a modern beach house overlooking the waters. It’s not as extravagant as one would expect to see when they come to a wedding, but considering the small crowd in attendance, this is more than enough. You see people rush in and out of the place even from far away - planners, caterers, the bridesmaids and groomsmen, probably.

You feel a bit comforted just watching this. His family seems to be doing a lot better than before. It’s nice to know.

You barely make it out of the car before someone calls your name, and pulls you into a hug that knocks the wind out of you. Although, when you catch the scent of her hair, you instantly know who it is.

Parents usually have a scent that’s distinct to only their kids, a scent so cozy and homely that no perfume can ever mask. You can only describe your mom’s scent with a feeling, specifically the feeling of your chest tightening, tingling with a bittersweetness that you never found elsewhere.

Strangely enough, Jungkook’s mother has always made you feel the opposite. She makes you feel relieved to be in her embrace, like she accepts you for who you are even if all you are to her, at the end of the day, is a stranger.

You hug her back awkwardly, hesitantly, in front of Jungkook’s dad, his brother Junghyun, and a girl you don’t know. You assume that she’s the bride-to-be, the main character whom this weekend revolves around. Sooji, you remember that was the name on the wedding invitation.

You get choked up suddenly, eyes turning glassy though you quickly blink it away. You’re not sure if you’ve had someone be so happy to see you. Bypassers might even think that you just found the cure for cancer.

For a second there, you wonder if your mere presence has ever made your mother this overjoyed.

You look at Jungkook for help, silently asking him to rescue you. Who else are you supposed to turn to if not him?

He understands that look. “Okay, mom,” he says, entangling her arms from you with ease, “Y/N’s tired from the drive. Let’s let her rest, yeah? I’ll show her the room.”

She ignores her son. “Honey,” she says, brushing your hair away from your face so she could see you better. “Thank you for coming.” She used to insist that you call her “mom”, or at least by her first name because “Mrs. Jeon” was too formal for someone she considered family.

You now have to opt for the latter, because “mom” isn’t an option for you anymore.

“Thank you for inviting me, Mrs. Jeon,” you tell her with a smile. You’re not really sure what else to say, but it makes you a little sad just calling her that.

She opens her mouth before closing it again, seemingly about to jokingly scold you for the formality before she recognizes the bittersweet look in your eyes. She just smiles at you then. There’s not much to be done about it.

You don’t know if anyone else sees how the moment is weighed down. Probably not. Maybe it’s just you and her who share this sentiment.

Jungkook doesn’t wait for his mom anymore. Sons, typical. He wedges himself between the two of you like a bulldozer and leads you inside the house.

Even though all you have is an overnight bag, Jungkook carries it for you all the way up to your room, which is only down the hall from his. Then he disappears pretty quickly afterward, saying something about his best man duties and putting out fires. He seems apologetic as he tells you this, but it’s not like you’re expecting him to babysit you all weekend.

You bore yourself to death in your room for a while, before you remember you have to text Yoongi to let him know you got here safely. Though, you stop short of telling him that it was Jungkook who drove you here. It’s trivial enough, right? You don’t want Yoongi to feel bad over nothing. You do, however, inform Taehyung and Jimin when you text them about it, to which Jimin only responds with a preemptively disapproving ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’

When you get too stir-crazy, you wander outside, hoping to explore the beach before it gets dark and colder. You try to stay out of everyone’s way, because a good guest is a quiet guest. You seem to be doing a good job. No one notices you, not even Jungkook’s mom but that’s because she’s the person you actively want to avoid the most. You don’t know what you’d even say to her if she gets you alone.

Everything is hectic, as one can probably imagine when it comes to wedding preparations. You haven’t had anyone close to you get married yet, so it’s safe to say that you’re pretty much clueless about all of this. You wonder what it’ll be like when your big day comes around, if you even ever get married. You haven’t thought about it in a long time. Why would you? You don’t really have a reason to think about this. It’s much easier to picture Taehyung’s or Jimin’s wedding day than your own.

Your opinion on having kids still remains the same, and you were never one of those girls who daydreamed about having a big and extravagant wedding, but it’s not such a bad idea to ponder about. You still think marriage is a scary thing - it’s one of the biggest commitments a person could ever make - but you’re not entirely opposed to getting married.

Why are you even mulling over this? Your time might never even come.

When you round the corner to get the steps that would lead you down to the beach, you run into Sooji and a woman holding a thick binder - must be a wedding planner. You give Jungkook’s future sister-in-law an awkward smile in greeting, which she returns much more gracefully before she tells the woman that she’ll be with her in a minute.

So now you’re stuck here, about to make small talk with a person you have never met before, and will likely never see again. Great.

“Hi,” you say, extending a hand. “I haven’t had the chance to introduce myself. I’m Y/N.”

“I’m Sooji,” she replies warmly as she shakes your hand, and you have to stop yourself from being a little weirdo and thinking about how silky her hair looks up close. “You’re Jungkook’s… friend, right?”

You purse your lips before nodding with a chuckle. The pause tells you that she knows, and you wouldn’t be surprised if she’s uncomfortable having you here.

“I’m sorry if this is weird. You probably don’t want a complete stranger at your wedding.”

Sooji shakes her head instantly, waving her hands around to dismiss your apology. “Please, it’s totally fine. Junghyun’s mom talked to me about it before we sent out the invites. I wouldn’t have agreed if I was really bothered. Don’t worry about it, seriously.”

“Why did you agree?” you ask, trying to sound as polite as possible. “You don’t know who I am.”

“I guess I was curious.” She shrugs, before laughing lightly as she says, “I used to think you weren’t real.”

“Huh?”

“She talks about you constantly. Never in front of Jungkook, of course. But she’s really fond of you, and you probably already know that doesn’t happen very often. She really does see you like a daughter. She made you sound too good to be true.”

You’re not sure how to respond to that. His mom still thinks about you, still talks about you after all this time. You’re just his ex-girlfriend, but she considers you her family. You don’t know what to do with this information nor the way it pinches your heart.

“I-” You purse your lips, fumbling with the responses in your head. You settle on a light laugh, because Sooji can probably tell that you’re struggling with the words too. “I have to be honest. I don’t know what to say to that.”

“You don’t have to say anything. I just thought you should know that you’re still very much loved here.” She gives you a kind smile, and it looks like she wants to tell you something else but decides against it in the end. Sooji’s eyes land somewhere behind you before she points in that general direction. “I have to go take care of an issue with the flowers, but look, Jungkook is here. Why don’t you ask him to show you around?”

And then she’s already off. Overall, what a… strange interaction.

You turn around to see Jungkook standing near one of the entrances to the house. As you watch him talk to someone - a bridesmaid, you assume, or just one of the other guests - you try not to think about the fact that there’s a stirring sensation in your stomach, and that it only intensifies when she throws her head back in a pretty laugh, a perfectly manicured hand landing on his arm like he’s the most charming person she’s ever met.

You don’t give it a name, don’t label it green in color even though you’re blue and he’s golden sunshine. You don’t acknowledge that it’s a feeling, because doing so would make it real and there are certain truths that you’d rather delude yourself into thinking are lies.

When Jungkook’s eyes catch yours and he cuts off the woman mid-sentence with a curt excuse me, you don’t acknowledge that feeling either, but it’s warm and it blooms in your chest as he makes his way to you. It’s something victorious, something that tickles your ribs.

He comes to you like you’re a destination he’s been waiting all his life to reach, and you certainly, adamantly don’t acknowledge the spectacularly dizzying feeling that swallows you whole when he places a gentle hand on your arm, his voice soft as he says, “There you are. I was looking for you.”

The familiarity, it’s catastrophic.

“I was just walking around,” you tell him. “There’s not a lot to do here. I was bored.”

“You have me,” he says. Probably not in that way, but you’d like to think that’s how he means it. “I don’t have any more fires to put out. What do you want to do now?”

You glance over your surroundings, still set on your original plans. You wanted to go alone, but you suppose you can let him accompany you. You check the time on your phone before asking, “Can we go down to the beach? I wanna see if we can catch the sunset.”

You used to do this whenever you came here to visit - walk along the beach, hand in hand, sunlight in your hair and the cool breeze holding you tight in the afterglow.

The keyword here is “used to”. Now, you have to stuff your hands in your pockets just so you don’t reach for him every time you shiver.

It’s late enough in the afternoon for you to see the moon faintly shine against a blue and orange backdrop. Sun and moon, together in the same frame. It feels symbolic somehow. You’re not really sure.

“The moon looks like an egg,” Jungkook observes astutely, taking casual strides next to you. It makes you burst into easy laughter, which makes him laugh with you too. You stop walking when you reach what you think is a good spot to watch the sky.

“Let’s sit here for a bit,” you say. It’s not the greatest idea - sitting idly by would only make you colder - but you just want to stop and look at the sunset. Once you’re seated in the sand, you respond to his moon remark, “That’s true, y’know. NASA said so.”

“Yeah,” he says, settling down beside you, “you made me read that.”

You’d forgotten about it, and you didn’t think that he’d remember. It’s freezing cold and the moon looks like an egg, but you’re not thinking, and you feel safe. Nothing can hurt you here, or at least that’s what you’d like to tell yourself.

You wrap your arms around yourself to keep from shivering, but you still shiver anyways.

“Are you cold?” he asks.

“A little,” you admit. “I should’ve worn a thicker sweater. But it’s o-”

He doesn’t let you finish the sentence, just smoothly takes off his jacket to put it around your shoulders.

You put your hands atop his to stop him. When you touch him, there’s an electric tingle that almost makes you flinch. He feels warm, still resembling a human furnace.

“No, you don’t have t-”

“Take the jacket, Y/N,” he says. “It’s just a jacket.”

The jacket smells like him. It only makes you want to crawl further into the warmth.

He seems more self-assured here, that’s what you notice. More like the version of himself that he used to be. Confident, sometimes borderline cocky. Annoying but oddly endearing, you came to love that about him.

His relaxed demeanor is understandable. You’re merely a visitor here, while this is his homeground.

“I’m curious about something,” he says after a while.

“Okay.”

“What’s the deal with Wednesdays?” he asks.

“You know how they say bad things come in threes?” You purse your lips, thinking it over, feeling something bitter in your mouth as you recall the events that led to this. “My parents got divorced on a Wednesday. I moved out of mom’s house on a Wednesday. And…” You hold your knees close to your chest as you hesitate to utter this last part, “we broke up on a Wednesday.”

You see the exact moment Jungkook mentally slaps himself, paling a couple shades as he tongues his cheek, not expecting his question to inadvertently lead back to this. It wasn’t your intention to guilt trip him. It was true that he dumped you on a Wednesday, but you don’t want the mood to turn sour, to have to mull over this again. Like he said, it will still be there for you to worry about when you get back. You’re not looking forward to returning to a shitshow, but what you’d hate even more is to tarnish the memories of this place just because you can’t keep from being vindictive for not even a weekend.

“I was born on a Wednesday too, so I guess bad things come in fours sometimes,” you continue, chuckling to yourself humorlessly.

A frown appears on his face almost instantaneously. “What is that supposed to mean?”

You shrug. Jungkook turns his body toward you, which makes you spare him a glance before you return your gaze to the horizon. His face is so serious that it’s almost funny. “Y/N,” he presses. “Why would you say that?”

“C’mon, it’s a joke. I was just being self-deprecating. Lighten up.”

“Why are you talking like that?”

“Like what? Contrary to popular belief, I don’t walk around with a thundercloud over my head all the time,” you laugh lightly. “I figured if there was a day to be nice to you, it should be today. And tomorrow, I guess.”

“This is you being nice?”

Funny how just a few weeks ago, you were fighting with him and calling him a hypocrite. Now, you’re sitting together, watching the sun set, trying not to be mean to him.

“I’m not picking a fight with you,” you say. “This is nice enough.”

“It’s not even my wedding.”

“Okay.” You glance at him again, letting words flow without a single thought. “I’ll be even nicer to you on your wedding day then.”

You don’t know where that even came from, but something aches the very second the words leave your mouth. The thought of him getting married one day makes you just nauseous, even though you always knew that it was a possibility. It might even be inevitable.

You clear your throat, waving the sullen feeling away. Your body shivers then, even after the added warmth of his jacket. Maybe you’re not shivering because of the cold anymore.

He doesn’t say anything, but you can feel his eyes linger on the side of your face. The both of you keep tiptoeing around an elephant that follows you wherever you go.

You hug your knees close to your chest, watching the blue sky melt into the golden horizon, splattered with ribbons of cotton candy clouds.

You want to scooch closer to him and have him wrap his arm around your shoulders. This isn’t the spot where you used to draw your names in the sand, enveloped in a giant heart like two lovesick kids, but wouldn’t it be nice to imagine that it is?

“I was always really happy here,” you mumble to yourself.

You were, truly. This city was your pocket of hope, your piece of peace.

Being here brings back so many memories.

It’s the same feeling you get every time you pass by somewhere you used to live. The nostalgia of walking down the same road you used to walk every day until your shoes wore out. The familiarity of your surroundings. The bittersweetness of looking into a past you cannot hold anymore, of remembering the person you were at a certain period in your life, of knowing the things you do now that you didn’t back then.

You long for things you cannot change.

Nostalgia only grows stronger with time, you can always count on that.

He hums in agreement, before admitting quietly, “I miss you.” One pulls, the other pushes. The water wavers, like it’s touched by his words, simple but earnest. You’re touched too, somewhere in your heart, where you know you should be writing someone else’s name now.

Should?

“You’re pushing it,” you say softly.

“I know.”

You look at him. Maybe it’s because you’re back in the city that holds only good memories of you two. Maybe you’re hypnotized by the way the pink and purple hues kiss his side profile, making him feel like a fever dream and not someone you loved. Maybe it’s the cold, making you yearn for any source of warmth. But instead of returning his sentiment, you say, “It’ll pass.”

He meets your eyes. There’s something pleading in his gaze. All things pass eventually. Time moves forward, people move on. Bad things will pass sooner or later. Your worst heartbreak, your most arduous trials, your saddest moments, they will all pass.

And good things… good things will have to pass too, whether you like it or not.

Your fingers twitch from where they’re still holding onto your body. You itch to reach for his hand. You don’t tell him what he wants to hear, even though here’s a part of you that wants to say it back. In a better world, you would be telling him I love you too, instead of having to suppress an I miss you too.

“All things have to pass eventually. This will too.”

[20:05] Taebear 🐻: we could go to that bar near the gallery. Y/N likes the cocktails there [20:06] Mimi 🐥: kay kay [20:06] Mimi 🐥: soooooo next friday? [20:09] Mimi 🐥: why is y/n reading our messages. shouldn’t she be at dinner [20:09] You: i approve of the bar choice [20:11] You: if you didn’t want me reading your messages, you shouldn’t have sent them to the gc [20:11] You: and if you must know, i’m skipping dinner. i’m avoiding Jungkook’s mom [20:12] Mimi 🐥: understandable. i figured you would do that [20:13] Mimi 🐥: how’s it going? are we regretting going yet? i told you to just stay home and we could binge watch the office together [20:15] You: and EYE told you that you could be a good friend and go to this wedding with me but nooooo baby doesn’t like the cold [20:16] You: you could’ve visited your parents while you’re here you know. two birds with one stone [20:18] Mimi 🐥: babes my parents stayed with me for a whole month last month. i reached my quota for family face time [20:19] You: son and friend of the year 👏 [20:20] Mimi 🐥: 😎😎😎😘

[20:22] Taebear 🐻: hey [20:23] You: uh oh. am i in trouble? why is this not in the gc? [20:25] Taebear 🐻: lol shut up [20:26] Taebear 🐻: you okay? [20:28] You: feels like that could’ve been a perfectly good question to ask in the gc [20:29] Taebear 🐻: because it’s a serious question and we both know Jimin can’t be serious for one minute to save his life [20:32] You: why does it have to be a serious question? 🤪 [20:32] Taebear 🐻: 😕 [20:33] You: stop pouting. i’m fine [20:35] Taebear 🐻: are you? [20:36] You: i am! you don’t have to go all mama bear on me [20:39] Taebear 🐻: ha ha ha. you’re so funny [20:40] Taebear 🐻: want me to call you? [20:42] You: i said i’m fiiiiiine 🙄 [20:43] You: but also no because i told everyone i was tired and i’m pretending to be asleep in my room right now [20:43] Taebear 🐻: okay [20:43] Taebear 🐻: did you eat something at least? [20:44] You: i have a cup ramen in my room [20:45] Taebear 🐻: okay [20:46] Taebear 🐻: how was today? did JK make you wanna strangle him? [20:48] You: okay Kim Taehyung at least act like you have some faith in your friend lol [20:50] You: but mmmmmm it was ok. he was mostly behaving himself [20:51] Taebear 🐻: mostly? [20:54] You: we were down at the beach and he just told me he missed me out of the blue [20:55] You: Mimi is asking why no one is replying to him [20:57] Taebear 🐻: i can see that [20:58] Taebear 🐻: what did you tell JK? [21:01] You: i quoted fleabag to him [21:09] Taebear 🐻: i had to google that [21:10] Taebear 🐻: i still don’t know what that means [21:11] You: i know you don’t lol. you’re adorable [21:11] You: i’ll tell you when i get back. [21:13] You: ok bye i have to sleep early or i’ll look like ass in the morning [21:14] Taebear 🐻: oh. okay [21:15] Taebear 🐻: sleep tight. remember not to gorge yourself on booze tomorrow [21:17] You: thanks for the reminder. love you mom 🙄💕 [21:17] Taebear 🐻: :) [21:20] Taebear 🐻: you won’t look like ass btw

You clocked out right after you told Taehyung that you would. It wasn’t a peaceful sleep though. The anxiety simmering in your belly woke you up a few times throughout the night. You don’t even know why you were anxious. It’s not like you were the one who was about to walk down the aisle.

When morning finally came and you managed to untangle yourself from the surprising comfort of your familiar bed, you practically dragged your feet for the subsequent two hours, trying to get ready. As if that would actually slow down the passage of time.

You had to compartmentalize the things you needed to do in a mental checklist. Makeup. Hair. Dress. Stare at yourself in the mirror for half an hour and internally freak out while waiting for Jungkook to come get you from your room.

Now you’re sitting in the wedding hall, watching people filter into the room. It’s not even a lot of people, but you’re still overwhelmed regardless.

You feel so exposed, even though he’s the only one looking at you in this room of strangers. He’s been looking at you like that ever since he first saw you this morning, in a dress that you got just days before the wedding. You still don’t know if it’s entirely appropriate for your ex-boyfriend’s brother’s wedding - maybe a bit revealing - but it was the only one you could find on such short notice.

When you tried on the dress for Taehyung and Jimin a few days ago, Taehyung said you looked beautiful. Jimin said you looked decent, “six point five out of ten,” which translated to “pretty nice” in Jimin-lingo. That would’ve been enough if you were going to any other wedding, not one where Jungkook would also be attending.

You had wanted him to see you and regret ever leaving you.

It was a silly thought, just a tad adolescent.

You had wanted him to see you in your dress and be consumed with thoughts of you until he couldn’t even see straight. To be the only thing on his mind, you didn’t think it was a lot to ask for.

That was before he told you not to think about it and you’d been convinced to just go with the flow just for two days. It was before he actually did see you earlier today in your dress - a simple midnight blue satin cowl neck with a slit in the thigh - but you were the one rendered helpless and speechless. He had stared at you for a minute when he came to walk you down from your room, then he’d said, all breathless even though both of you were just standing there, “You’re beautiful.”

You’re beautiful, not You look beautiful.

You don’t know why, but you appreciated it.

It made your cheeks burn underneath your artificial rosy blush. Stupid, you thought to yourself when you two made your way to the main hall. Stupid for letting yourself get dizzy because of a single compliment from him.

You’re seated with his parents, which makes sense because you don’t know anybody here except for them. Well, maybe you know one of his cousins whose kid you and Jungkook used to babysit whenever their family was in the city, but you doubt that he even remembers you anymore.

When the ceremony begins, your heart instantly feels like it’s about to drop to the pit of your stomach.

You can’t lie to yourself. It stings.

It stings just sitting here next to his parents like a daughter-in-law, like a member of their family, watching his brother solidify his happy ending.

It stings that Jungkook is standing up there, looking as handsome as ever, but his eyes aren’t on the couple. They keep flickering to you no matter how much you try to pretend that they don’t.

It stings that even though you don’t think about marriage often - or maybe you just don’t allow yourself to - you can’t deny that the thought does cross your mind from time to time. Any time that you’d wander the corridors inside your head, you’d pass the doors that you keep unopened on purpose but there’s always that one door marked with a bright red X that you can never sidestep.

You watch Junghyun and Sooji with their teary smiles and shaky hands, shaky but happy. There’s a sudden clarity that this could’ve been you and him in another life. Forever is a lie, but you would’ve perjured yourself a thousand times for him. I do - you would’ve meant it.

You imagine yourself in Sooji’s place, and Jungkook, standing right on the other side, holding both your hands in his. A beautiful and radiant bride terrified of the altar. A dashing groom with a smile that could rival the sun and shoulders weighing heavier than he lets on.

It would’ve looked clumsy, but it could’ve been right.

You wonder if he’s wondering the same thing. Maybe he is. You hope he is.

When the ceremony ends with a kiss shared between the newlyweds, you wipe away the tears that well up in your eyes. The people around you do the same thing, but they’re doing it for the right reason, out of genuine joy for the happy couple. You don’t think you can say the same for yourself.

Some of the bridesmaids fawn over him. It’s reasonable, you suppose. One tends to do that in the presence of Jeon Jungkook.

You watch as they come up to him one by one to ask him to dance, watch as he politely declines until they’re all stalking away with similar pouts on their faces. You watch him until his eyes lock on you, sitting at a table near the back, nursing a glass of champagne.

He weaves himself with ease through the people making their way to the dance floor. When he’s in front of you, he holds out a hand.

“Dance with me?” he asks, his doe eyes working overtime to lure you in with their sparkles, though you’d rather stay here where you can easily go unnoticed until the night ends. “One song?”

“I don’t know how,” you say, even as you’re taking his hand and standing up.

“I showed you how, remember?”

“That was a long time ago.”

He squeezes you reassuringly. “Just follow my lead,” he says, walking the both of you to the floor. “C’mon.”

Once the music starts, your heels stomp on his feet at least three times before you start finding the beat to move along to. Muscle memory, or whatever, is bullshit. You remember absolutely nothing of what he showed you.

You’re grateful that the song is slow, because it makes it easier for you to follow the beat with your two left feet. He takes one of your hands in his, the other settling on the small of your back, guiding you to move in a steady rhythm.

You feel his mother’s eyes on the two of you, because she must be somewhere nearby, watching you like a hawk. You feel his gaze on your face while you keep yours on the knot of his tie, just trying to keep your composure and to not step on his feet with your heels.

The blur of white that you catch from the periphery of your vision makes you turn your head. Sooji and Junghyun are close by, swaying together slowly to the soft music, both of them glowing with happiness. She must sense your eyes on her, because she lifts her gaze up to meet yours. She smiles at the sight of you and Jungkook, and you smile back, because you don’t know how else to respond to that.

You don’t say it, but you do think it. Your fingers tighten around his hand ever so slightly.

Could that have been us?

If the answer is yes, then it would hurt.

If the answer is no, then it would hurt.

The point of your story is that it’s painful however you choose to look at it. There’s no other way to frame it. It’s just painful, because you’re never going to get any of it back.

You bite your lip, then turn away from the happy couple but you still don’t look at Jungkook. You look at your hand in his, and that’s when you see it.

“How’d you get that?” you ask, gently tracing the inch of slightly raised skin on his knuckles. You never noticed the scar until now.

“It was four years ago, I think? After Taehyung and I almost got into a fight, I went outside and… punched a wall,” he says, wincing as he recalls the memory.

His answer takes you aback. “You and Taehyung got into a fight?”

“Almost,” he corrects. “It was a long time ago. Didn’t they tell you?”

“No, they didn’t say anything. What happened?”

“Nothing happened.”

“If it was really nothing, you wouldn’t have punched a wall.” You frown. It makes you miss a few beats, but the song isn’t what’s important now, even if Jungkook is still trying to steer you back into the dance. “Taehyung isn’t violent. You aren’t violent.”

“I’m serious,” he says finally. “It’s nothing. We were just drunk and stupid.”

You know there must be more to it, that something must have happened or been said to trigger such a reaction from both of them. But you also know that you won’t probably get anything out of Jungkook if he doesn’t want to tell you.

You give up, for now. “Fine. If you say so.” You’ll just have to weasel it out of Jimin later.

The song comes to an end, before another one comes on. If Jungkook remembers that he only asked for one song, maybe he’s counting his blessings that you’re still here and dancing with him, because he doesn’t mention it.

For some reason, you pull your hand away from his, only to slide up his shoulder to lock both of your hands behind his neck. He seems surprised, but he does the same around your waist.

Jungkook’s gaze flickers to your lips briefly, then back to your eyes again. You find yourself doing the same and wonder what he tastes like after all the time you’ve been apart. Is he still as sweet as you remember? You used to tease that it was because of the excessive sugar he put in everything, but you knew it was really just him. The few inches between you are so inviting that it’s practically tempting you to close the gap. You could, easily in fact. Blame it on one too many glasses of champagne later if you want.

He looks younger like this, like the boy you loved, starry eyes and dimpled smile. His shoulders are always the most comfortable resting place, the crook of his neck your long lost home. This is nice, you think, to see him again even though it feels like a fever dream. Memories of your first date, your first kiss, come to life before your eyes so realistically that you could almost touch them.

Loved? That sounds funny to you.

The people you used to be, souls wrapped in innocence, when the world was nothing but the arms of the person you loved. You reach out, and the memories quickly fade from view. The only trace they leave behind is a speck of gold on your fingertips, a memento of charming naiveté for you to tuck neatly away in the corner of your mind, but also a reminder that ah, they only exist in the locket of your heart now. Because he has changed, and you think you must have too. Life, as they say, goes on.

“We made it. Kind of. That’s crazy,” you find yourself saying.

“Did we?”

“You don’t think so?” you chuckle. “We’re in a group chat with the Kim Seokjin who spams it with bad jokes on a daily basis. I’d call that a win.”

That makes him laugh. “If you put it like that, yeah, maybe. Sure.”

Other people might be fooled, but it doesn’t sound at all convincing to you. The light doesn’t really reach his eyes. You bite the inside of your cheek, thinking of how to translate the sudden poignant turn of the moment.

“It isn’t everything you hoped it’d be?” you ask.

His shoulders rise then fall quickly in a second-long shrug. “I thought it would make me feel more… fulfilled. But it doesn’t. Not really.”

The way he says it and the way he’s looking at you makes your heart dive. You understand what he means. You’re good at what you do, and you don’t need reassurance from anyone to recognize that. But sometimes, it doesn’t feel like it’s enough. Doesn’t feel like it’s real, like it’s validated.

When you landed your first big project, even before Yoongi, you were so proud of yourself. You were bursting with excitement but you weren’t happy, and you knew what the reason was. Something was missing that couldn’t be filled, not even with all your friends’ hundreds of messages of encouragement.

It’s beyond stupid, this feeling like your wins amount to nothing at all just because of one person. You wanted him there to celebrate every achievement with you and he wasn’t, and the milestones seemed incomplete without the presence of him. It doesn’t feel like you’ve accomplished anything because this always used to be a dream you thought you’d make come true together.

“It’s lonely,” he concludes.

It sounds like he feels the same way, like he wanted you to be there too.

He suddenly holds you tighter than you think he needs to, like he’s afraid to let go of you. You imagine that he doesn’t want to let go of you, and it makes you feel better for a second. But it doesn’t change the fact that he still did in the end. And he will have to when this ends.

What was the point of this? Why did he bring this upon yourselves when he seems to be as hurt as you are? All of this time, all of these years, lost to what? You could’ve been happy together but instead, you were both lost and miserable.

When the music stops - you lost count of how many songs it’s been - you pull away from him. He looks disappointed, maybe even a little hurt for some reason.

“I’m gonna get some air,” you say, already turning away from him.

“Y/N-”

“I need some air.” Then you’re weaving through the dancing couples despite Jungkook calling your name. How did he manage it? How did he not look back when you called out for him?

You hastily grab your coat on the way out. It’s not going to keep you warm, but that’s not something you’re even remotely concerned with.

It’s everywhere, you feel it down to your bones.

The wind wraps itself tightly around you, intertwining in your hair, slipping through the cracks of your fingers, caressing your face in a chilling touch. You greet the cold like a long lost sister, shivering violently with nostalgia. It was there for you more than your own flesh and blood.

Is that why you like the sea at night? Because it reminds you of mom?

It’s dark out here, barely anything is visible except for a lighthouse sending out light in the quiet of the night. You can’t see much, but you can certainly hear it. You’re not sure if the music is coming from inside the venue, or if it’s still ringing in your ears. It’s probably the latter; you’re too far away to be able to catch the music anyway. But regardless, the tune is quickly drowned out by the sea.

The waves crash violently against the shore like it’s out for blood. There’s a magnetic pull, as if it’s calling out for you. You want to go to it, to reach out and feel the cold outside of your body for once, but you stay there despite your legs itching to stand up and run straight ahead. Into the water and down under.

You could lie down and close your eyes for a moment. The sound of the water, as sharp and brutal as it is, nurtures a part of you somehow.

You just want to be alone. You don’t want to talk to Taehyung, or Jimin, or even Yoongi.

Oh.

Yoongi.

It’s a terrible feeling, knowing that you’re going to hurt Yoongi. Knowing that you’re going to kill this even before it has a chance to truly begin.

Truth be told, you can’t envision a future with Yoongi. There isn’t anything wrong with him, because he’s not the problem here. Yoongi is fun, he’s considerate, he keeps things light on purpose for you, until you’re ready to initiate something more serious. He’s good for you, even Taehyung thinks so.

But you can’t love Yoongi, not in the way that he wants you to. Not more than you love Jungkook.

There you go. Ruining things again.

Did you ruin Jungkook? Is that what happened?

The layers on you are no match for the sea at night. The wind hisses relentlessly, biting at any part of your skin that’s exposed.

It takes you back to that night. Almost everything does, actually.

Maybe that’s why you never even stopped to consider starting anything with anyone, because it always ends. If there’s a beginning, then there will be an inevitable ending. Love isn’t made to last and you aren’t meant to carry love with you. You’ve been abandoned twice. If it happens a third time, it’s a pattern, and then your hypothesis will only be proven. That the problem here is you.

You’d be lying if you said you haven’t wondered when it’ll finally be Taehyung’s turn to leave. He eventually will, right? That one’s gonna hurt.

Then, you’re startled when someone calls your name.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks. The wind and the waves masked the sound of his footsteps walking up to you. When you turn around to face him, his eyes grow worried, almost panicked. “Why are you crying?”

You breathe out irritatedly before you hastily wipe at your cheeks. You didn’t even realize that you’d been crying. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine,” you say, though you both know it’s a lie. “I’m just tired. I’m going up to my room.”

He catches your wrist in a firm grip when you try to walk away. You wish he’d just leave you alone, but you knew he wouldn’t drop it just like that.

“I said I’m fine,” you insist.

“You were crying,” he says. “Did I do something wrong?”

He didn’t, at least not tonight.

God, you really don’t want to do this right now.

“Jungkook,” you warn. “Let go of me.”

You try to free yourself from his grip, hoping that he’ll get the hint and back off for now. Instead, he pulls you into his chest, where you struggle to escape from his hold until you realize your efforts are futile. He takes the wind’s place, wound tightly around you, so tightly that it’s nearly impossible for you to move.

You hiss out his name, but he doesn’t budge.

“Jungkook, can you just- Fuck!”

Damn him.

You realize he’s not giving up, which in turn makes you give up struggling, hoping that if you let this be a moment, then it’ll be something that can pass.

You’re just standing there, letting him hold you, letting yourself be held by the person who broke you in the first place. This feels exactly like where you’re supposed to be - in his arms, with your face hidden in the crook of his neck, his gentle fingers stroking your hair. There’s not a lot that you could do but lean into that feeling the same way you lean into him. One foot in the sand, one foot in the past. A hand on the doorknob of time, wondering if you should look back or look forward.

You want to be alone, but that never used to apply with him.

The wind stills, the sea calms. You remain unmoving too, locked in his embrace. You feel the faint rhythm of his heart, beating faster than you think it should. If you could, you would bottle this moment up and live there forever.

I miss you, you think.

I miss you.

Then your arms are around him too. It only makes him hold you tighter, and all you can think about is how much you miss him, how painful it is to miss him, how you feel like you’re being pulled apart at the seams from the weight of missing him.

Fuck.

Can you pretend that the last few years never happened? Is there a higher power that would allow you to go back to the night before that wretched Wednesday, when everything was still perfect? Hundreds of days of your life, can you pretend that it was just one long nightmare? When you wake up, you’ll be back in his humble apartment, tangled up together in his bed. Warm sunlight, your silken youth, and him. It was all you ever needed.

Again with the devastating familiarity. The city, the beach. His mother’s warmth that always made you reminisce about your own mother’s coldness. How Jungkook used to find you in moments like this and just stayed by your side until the dejection passed. He understood that he could never understand it the way you did.

You hear yourself sniffle, then you feel him press a kiss into your hair. Home is comforting.

Oh, you never want to leave.

You don’t want to leave, and that’s terrifying.

You allow yourself to stay there for one more second - one endless second - so you could commit to memory what it’s like to be with him. Back and forth. It’s always so easy to fall into him.

Jungkook releases you when he feels you loosen after a while, and you reluctantly meet his eyes as he tilts your head to face him. His fingers cradling your jaw, how warm and delicate they feel on your skin.

You swallow thickly, your mind going blank. He’s the only person you see, the only one that matters. His eyes flicker south, and even then you don’t make any move to run away, despite his loose grip on your waist telling you that you can if you want to.

You told him that it would pass, and maybe for him, it will. For him, it’s the city and the moment, making him feel like he’s caught up in a page that he’s turned over a long time ago. He was fine with leaving, and he’s been fine without you. It will pass for him, as much as it hurts you to admit it.

But not for you. For you, there’s only him. There’s nobody else but him. It’s always been him, no matter how hard you try to tell yourself that there will be another person you can love as much as you love Jungkook. You might only be a page, perhaps even a chapter, in the story of his life, but he’s your entire book. He’s volume after volume after volume, until he takes up the whole shelf and leaves no room for anything else, not even for yourself.

And now here he is - at the biggest turn in your career.

He’s a bad blood cell you can’t ever get rid of.

You’ll never be able to truly let go of him. How could you? When you truly love someone, those feelings will carry on forever. They’ll always have a piece of your heart despite an ending. When you look back on a certain period in your life, you’ll think to yourself, You’ll always be a part of me. I loved you then.

But Jungkook is a force of nature. He has your whole heart.

Years and years from now, when you look back on your life, you know you’ll see him everywhere. Even when you’re old and gray, and when faces all just blur together in a mosaic of broken memories and long lost youth, you know you’ll still remember him - the person you loved, the one whom you let slip through your fingers. The great love of your life when you were young.

Sometimes, you regret that day. You can’t help feeling like it was your fault too. Maybe you should’ve tried harder to keep him. You should’ve fought harder, should’ve held onto him instead of standing there and watching him leave.

He lit the match, and you let the house burn. It takes two to tango, two to break a heart.

You’re quick to let people leave. Oh, how you wish it could be that easy to let them go too.

It isn’t until your eyes mimic the flicker of his gaze that he leans in. You meet him halfway. For the first time in years, you feel like you could breathe, truly breathe. It’s achingly slow, like neither of you can believe that this is happening.

You sigh against his mouth when his tongue brushes your bottom lip, slips past the seal to devour you. It feels like a perfect dream. You could stay in this bubble with him forever, pretend that you’re the only two people who exist in the world and there’s nothing else, no one else, waiting for you in a city that seems so far away right now. The thought of him never left you, not even for a second. He’s always been with you everywhere you go, no matter what you do, always in the back of your mind.

He tastes like your youth, like remembrance. He kisses you like he’s still yours when deep down you know that you’re still his. The hand on your jaw is gentle but firm, and it makes you repeat a thought, I miss you.

Then a feeling, I love you.

Not then. Now.

I love you now.

I love you even when I shouldn’t. Even when it hurts. Even when you leave me. Even when you don’t love me more than I love you. If there comes a day where you love somebody else, I will still love you then. There will never be another person for me but you. My first and only love.

When he pulls away, you think it’s too quick, even though your lungs are grateful for the breath that you instantly inhale. You stare at his lips like you’re in a daze, mesmerized, wanting to chase them again. You don’t even know how you have it in yourself to utter these next words, but you hear your own voice saying them anyway.

You’re holding onto him now. Doesn’t that count?

“Let’s…” Your fingers tighten on the collar of his dress shirt. “Let’s go up to your room.”

note (2): so... what do we think?? will they?? won't they?? 😵 stay tuned for obs7.5 which will be dropping 29.09.2023! also i'm gonna pause obs muse asks for a little bit! 😬

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undercoverpena · 5 months

Text

stockings and stars

javier peña x f!reader

summary: Still need the star putting on the top of the tree. ive got other plans for you Because I’m the star? yeah you're my star and youre not going anywhere but on your back

from the late night texts world - but can still be enjoyed on its own. chapter warnings: allusion to/mentions of smut. no actual smut. javi undresses you, though. flirting. fluff. reader wears red lingerie and a dressing gown. javi flirting. sexy talk, romcom vibes ofc ✨ wordcount: 3k

an: to @goodwithcheese merry christmas from me, to you. thank you for everything, for the tuesday fun we have - i wanted nothing more than to have this out sooner, but life, you know? but, i adore you. and I'm so glad we found one another. ahuge thanks to @thetriumphantpanda who cheerleaded for me throughout.

text key: bold is you/reader | italics is javi

Will I be seeing Santa Javi today? I want to decorate my tree.

one time I come to yours in a red shirt

You also had the tree under your arm and a bag of baubles, I’d class those as gifts.

keep talking baby and you can decorate your tree alone

Think I’m gonna wear that shirt you left here while I do it. Make sure I have to get up on my tip toes. Hope it doesn't rise up...

you don’t play fair

I think I’ll be in stockings too…

youre killing me

Maybe they’re white and red, and…

baby if i wasn’t putting this thing up for Pop, i’d be driving over right now

Hope you hurry up, I need someone tall to put the star on top of the tree.

how am I gonna eat you out when youre perched on the tree baby

The last thing on his to-do list from his Pop is to hang the front porch garland.

He had learnt there had been a huge difference in the front and the back porch garlands. A fifteen-minute-long difference when he'd timed the response given to his sarcastic answer.

Javi learnt there was not only one for the back porch and the front, but one which sat across the fireplace and one on the staircase.

He learnt that after he'd made a joke about mixing them up—earning himself a very pointed glare, and the task of the front porch.

Now, it’s a battle he’s losing.

Tremendously so.

While he’d never want his Pop to do the more challenging tasks, he did rather hate he hadn’t thought to trade this one in for the back porch at the very least—because that had looked fucking easy.

Holding the garland in hand, he’s suddenly hit with a second wave of nostalgia, the first having arrived when he'd pulled down the box and peered into it.

It did the same thing as it had done then, all but rushed over him, layering itself on his shoulders, sitting, nothing short of a comfortable weight on him. Letting his gaze fall out over it, he smiles at the tuffs of fabric, all the bows tied by hand, all in an array of sizes and shades.

Over time, he can see how they've become sun-dyed, remembering the first year they'd been sewn into the faux greenery by his mamá, memories of her all hunched over, humming carols.

Smiling, he rolls his lips, letting out a heavier sigh than he intended as he drags it to the post he’d begin at.

But, all he wonders is whether in the years he wasn’t here, whether it was occasionally hung—or if this year is just that special.

The mere hint that he was going to ask if you wished to spend Christmas at the ranch had sent his Pop into overdrive. Practically yanked him out of his chair like he’d been electrified, a bunch of orders being flung from under his white, wiry moustache that they needed to get ready.

He wasn't sure he'd get the image of his Pop suddenly scrambling around like a man half his age, to drag the decorations out from the cupboard, would ever be erased from his mind. Least of all the sound you'd made aww'ing down the phone when he'd given you a condensed version of the story.

Because he hasn't asked you yet, not properly.

Even though he's spent the last two days at the back of barns and spending a ridiculous amount of time at the hardware store—because we need to make sure the lights stay up, Jav.

He just hasn't found the right time to ask you. A promise each time he goes to see you left in the air. Not that his Pop remembers that, instead he's just busy thinking up ways to make it special: one of which includes decorating the trees at the entrance to the ranch.

An idea having sprouted with the newest ranch hand—one which, if Javi overheard correctly, involves rope acting like tinsel and a cowboy hat being the star on the top of the trees.

Feeling his phone vibrate, he temporarily ignores it as he begins to weave the beginning of the garland around the wood—already knowing, before he tries to move it around the spindles, that it isn’t going to be easy.

Because nothing ever fucking is.

Least of all when you’re waiting for him.

His mind begins to concoct images of you in bows and sheer material, lips painted, sat waiting, smelling nothing short of heavenly as you call out for—

“Fuck,” he shouts, dropping the garland to the ground.

It had pricked him, stabbed him right in the skin—hand shaking the pain out, face likely all scrunched. And, if it didn't have sentimental value, he's sure he'd have kicked its protesting ass with everything he had. Instead, he just narrows his eyes more than he had done moments ago as he begins again.

He feels his nostrils flare when it begins to undo itself. The sound of faux bristles on wood grates him before it will even attempt to do what he needs it to.

And it makes him want to quit, to throw it back into the box and tell his Pop it isn’t worth it. But he knows it is. Knows that his mama didn’t spend hours bent over under flickering light for it not to be seen.

Javi also strongly suspects you’d love it. Likely run your fingers over several bows asking who made it. He can even imagine the look of joy on your face when he tells you.

It’s why, if he didn’t already suspect it anyway, he’s pretty sure his Pop loves you more than him. Because even the first Christmas he was back, there weren’t this many decorations; not nearly as much need to have them all out, either.

Not that Javi really minds—or blames him.

There’s a notable shift in energy when you stay over. Even more so in him. He can see there’s a cheer and a glow to the place—one Javi hates watching vanish when he takes you back to your place.

It's why, when—and where—he can, he fights for you to be here. Practically finds convincing ways to do so, including, crossword puzzles, dinner, and two-person showers. But, at some stage, your clothing dwindles, underwear runs low, and he has to make the painful drive into town to return you to your place.

Your fingers in his hair, practically clambered into his lap as you whisper that you’ll be back before he knows it. His fingers on your chin, thumb stroking out the words he says right back—that he’ll miss you all the same.

Javier Peña. Texan softie—what will the world think?

He only thinks one thing when he drives back—a response which had been there on his lips. Guess they’ll see just how much I love you. A thing you know, comment on, say back to him first thing in the morning and last thing at night. An array of promises there, sometimes spoken at a normal level and sometimes whispered.

You always keep them, just like the one that you are always back before he knows it.

He likes it when you are. Enjoys it when you’re nestled beside him, arm across his chest, hand close to his ribs—strumming them, tracing lines and words he tries to understand before sleep takes him.

He still always sleeps better when you’re beside him. When his breathing can mirror yours, when he can feel for you in the night when he’s awoken with nightmares and things he knows won’t ever come true.

Now, he’s fighting a different battle. One to get to you.

Halted in his path to freedom by the garland which refused to be hung, and could be labelled as giving him more grief than the horses which had banded together. A phrase he never thought he’d admit out loud, never mind think.

You still fighting with the garland?

baby its torturing me on purpose

Do you want me to come and help?

will you come in the stockings

No!! Your dad is there.

then stay there actually lie down, but do not begin without me

Still need the star putting on the top of the tree.

ive got other plans for you

Because I’m the star?

yeah you're my star and youre not going anywhere but on your back

Hurry then.

i’m hurrying

He does hurry—practically scratched up by the time he’s parking his truck outside your place.

As he takes the step up to your door, Javi realises how much he misses it here when he doesn’t visit. A place less frequent and often spent time in, even under your insistence of renting it.

It is always usually a stopping point, him parking up, letting you go in and grab what you need before you're back in his truck, heading back to his.

He does like your place though, likes how small it is, how cosy. Plus, it has all the things which make you, you. A thing his place is currently missing.

Although, as he steps through the door, and calls your name, he does have to admit it currently looks fucking ridiculous.

On a good day, he’d describe your place as crowded, but right now, it’s claustrophobic.

The tree you’d forced him to get is shoved into a corner, branches fluffed out, surrounded by the piles of unpacked boxes you’ve tried to discreetly hide. Your remaining floorspace is overtaken by a bit of rug, several piles of books (you have no room for, but continue to buy) and odd bits of furniture you find and attempt to restore.

For the most part, you’ve decorated. A thing you did inform him of.

You’ll be pleased to know when you get here your only job is the star. managed it all yourself, did you I’m a very competent woman, Javi. oh i know baby ive seen you with a crossword Does that do it for you? Me finishing a crossword. does something to me Get over here. im leaving now

There’s a warm, comforting glow spread out across the place from the fairy lights you’ve hung and the array of mismatched decorations—both bought and handmade—hanging from branches.

He breathes in the scent of orange which hangs in the air, his eyes finding the culprit on your fireplace, a garland—one not dissimilar to the one he’d been battled with—places there, mocking him due to the ease of which had been laid, with oranges and little beads all entwined within it.

Snorting, he glances back at your tree, spotting the things he's been with you when you've bought. And, as promised—and informed him through text—there’s nothing at the top of your tree.

“You finally made it!”

Spinning on his heel, he comes face to face with you, and fuck if the sight of you doesn’t make it all worth it.

Dressed in a red, silky dressing gown, all tied in the middle, you're a vision. Then, there's the fact your lips are painted a shade he’d now famously dub Christmas red, a colour he wants nothing more than to be stained with. A path of it from his mouth down to the space where his jeans meet his hips. A thought which seems to only make how tight his jeans are even more uncomfortable.

“Cariño, you’re…”

You sway a little, letting the fabric move—allowing his gaze to land on the stockings. The ones he’s been thinking about all afternoon. The ones he can’t wait to feel under his palm and know whether they’ll create friction when wrapped around his waist.

“Fuck me.”

“I’m kinda banking on it,” you say, biting your red-painted lip. “But first…”

His hand crawls around your waist, feeling the smooth, soft texture under his hand—swallowing, dragging his eyes up and down you, unsure how he could ever be so lucky—how something so good could ever be here for him to unwrap.

“I need you to hang the star,” you continue.

“Right now?”

Nodding, you ghost your lips over his. “I’ve been so good waiting for you.”

“You're never good. You, baby, are a menace.”

“I’m your menace.”

Snorting, he presses a kiss to your lips. “Damn right, you are.”

Moving from you, reluctantly, only to pick up the gold star he assumes you want to hang, getting a nod from you that he’s right.

“Need to ask you something too.”

And even though he’s only taken a mere short step from you, he’s floored all over again about what a picture you look like when he glances back. That you’re standing all for him, dressed in nothing but cheer and ribbons all for him.

“Go on.”

Turning to your tree, he flattens his hand to the wall for stability. “I wanted…”

His concentration slides in—suddenly aware he doesn’t want to knock anything from the branches. Doesn’t want to force things to be misplaced from where they were expertly hung.

He’s also sure he’s wanting to swallow the question. A part of him, all the way deep inside of him, having been bracing—and waiting—to hear you’d be apart for the holidays. A thing the two of you have rarely been since you moved here, not a day going by he hasn’t seen you for at least an hour.

“Wanted to know if you—shit—” the star almost sitting atop, before at the last minute protesting. “I wanted to know if you wanted to spend Christmas with me—with us, me and Pop. At the ranch.”

The star slides into place, sitting more comfortably with another shove, more branch supporting it.

But he doesn’t turn, not immediately. Not as the question hums around him, swirls in the silence of you not immediately saying yes. So much so, that it takes him a second to move on his heels, to face you—to read the answer before it’s delivered.

What he sees is something his heart couldn’t have ever prepared for.

You, grinning—a silly, almost goofy, smile spreading out as you bite down on your lip, forehead slightly crinkled.

“You… you want me to spend the holidays with you?”

“Of course—cariño, I want nothing more than for you to be with me.”

It all quick to leave his mouth, mirroring the movement to be back in front of you, fingers under your chin, lifting your eyes—those beautiful, fucking eyes—to his.

“Do… do you—wanna spend it with me?”

You pull a different face before you’re nodding. One more excited, one which begins to expel out over a smile and a bunch of escaping phrases such as I can’t believe you want me with you and of course.

“Why wouldn’t I want to be with you?”

Shrugging, you scrunch your nose—an act he finds just as cute as the first time he saw it. “Guess it’s a big deal. It’s… a thing people do with families.”

Pulling you close by your hips, your hand lands flat on his chest. “You are my family.”

“Javi,” you whisper, making each letter feel so individual the way you say it, that it makes his heart double.

“It’s true. You’re it for me, cariño. All I’ve wished for.”

Eyes widening, your eyes shimmer under the lights—more so than normal. Taking a deep breath, you lift your chin before pressing a kiss to his mouth. One which turns hungry, desperate—your mouth searing, a thing he’s craved since he woke up before the sun even rose.

“Baby,” you whisper.

And he hums.

It vibrates out, able to feel it from the way his fingers cup your cheek.

“Undo me.”

Releasing your lips with a pop, he opens his eyes, studying your eyes, moving from one to the other.

“Go on,” you urge in a whisper, more breathless, more tinged with something that makes his skin hot.

Sliding his fingers over the knot, he barely has to tug before it comes undone—unveiling you, like a curtain which wishes to part. If he’d thought you’d looked good before, he’s sure every bit of you is a sin now—a Christmas sin.

Red and lace. It’s all he sees. It sitting there, against you, hugging your breasts—sitting on your hips. His mouth is suddenly dry at the thought of running his tongue over the place it meets your skin before pulling it down.

Your fingers follow his eyes, sliding between the valley to land on the bow in the centre, twisting the edge of the tie around your index finger—palm skating over your stomach, allowing him more chance to take in how you’re stood before him in see-through fabric and promises.

“How’d I get so lucky?” he asks, more to no one, than to you.

His fingers teasing the fabric sat on your hip—marvelling, unsure how to think straight until you clear your throat, forcing his eyes to meet yours.

“Hey,” you whisper, tightening your hold on his hands, bringing his arms more around your waist, pressing your front to him, feeling the heat from your skin through your clothes. “You’re all I wished for too.”

Smiling, he looks at your tree, before landing back on you. “You look so good.”

“I know. Could look better though?” His brow arches as you slowly begin to smile, the tip of your tongue sliding over your upper lip. “Everything is held in place by bows.”

Groaning, he closes his eyes, letting his hand slide down your lower back, over sheer material before his fingers find the ribbon on your hip.

“All for you.”

“Mine,” he answers, slotting his mouth over yours—staining the four letters to your lips.

His fingers slide around, brushing over soft skin, until he finds the first bow. Undoing it with ease, licking into your mouth, only to grunt against you when you whimper as the fabric falls to your feet.

“Yours,” you say back, your own hands beginning to undo him.

an: merry christmas, love you

#javier peña x f!reader #javier peña x reader #javier peña #javier peña narcos #javi peña x reader #javi peña x you #javi pena #javier peña x you #narcos x reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javi pena x reader #narcos javier x reader #narcos javier #pedro pascal x reader #narcos fanfiction

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unseededtoast · 7 months

Text

We'll Be Alright | Spencer Reid x F! Reader

Summary: In which you discover that the line between love and hate is quite fine. Your actions are done out of love, but they only make you hate yourself more and more. Inspired by "Fine Line" by Harry Styles

Cross posted on Wattpad and AO3 and here is my masterlist!

WC: 9.1k

Warnings: Angst, a lot of angst, pining, mention of Ed Gein, mention of blood, use of guns, that sorta thing

a/n: Back at it again with another Spencer Reid oneshot. I hope you all like it, I think this is one of my favorites so far.

"I could live with you hating me, but I couldn't live in a world without you."

With a smile on your face you listen to Spencer ramble on about how he put the pieces together to find the unsub while you two ride to the scene together. He speaks with such passion and you don't think you'll ever get tired of listening to him, his mind is a brilliant thing and you make sure to remind him every chance you get. You can tell that sometimes when he gets fired up about something he starts becoming insecure, fearing that the others will make some snide comment or dismiss his thoughts. But not you, you listen intently every time, hanging onto every word.

Spencer has played a very vital role in developing you into the analyst you are today. Where the others were satisfied with letting you learn on your own, and showing you pointers here and there, Spencer took the time to explain nuanced ideas to you. He showed genuine interest and care, and you gave him your undivided attention. This dynamic created a tight bond with the two of you, allowing you to work together seamlessly and at times, it's like you read each other's thoughts.

"I knew you could do it." You tell him as you pull onto the scene. He utters a thanks as the two of you get out of the car and join the rest of the team.

The unsub is nearby and the team is just waiting for him to show up; Garcia had been able to track his phone and his movement aligned with the area you and Spencer had narrowed down as the next area of interest. Hotch, Morgan, and Emily give you both a nod of acknowledgement and the five of you begin scouting out the area to look for any signs of the unsub, he should be here by now.

This particular unsub sent a chill down your spine, and not much gets to you anymore. His modus operandi was always to kill his victims, skin them, and use their flesh for various purposes. It's like he was trying to be Gein's prodigy, except he never dug up a grave, he preferred to kill them all himself. The team had found his workshop early in the investigation, but the unsub was nowhere to be found, until now. Seeing household objects made of flesh isn't going to soon leave your memory, you're sure of it.

"There he is!" Morgan yells and points to a man crossing the street with a paper bag in his hand. Everyone takes off in a sprint towards him and you pull your firearm from the holster strapped to your thigh. The unsub takes off, trying to evade you all.

Emily and Hotch split up from the rest of the team to try and cut him off up ahead, leaving you, Spencer, and Morgan trailing him. The little man is fast, you'll give him that much. Eventually, he ducks down an alleyway, unaware it's a dead end, and turns back to look at you all with wide, stunned eyes. You see the panic in his eyes and as Morgan shouts instructions at him, you see him reach inside of his jacket.

The unsub pulls a gun of his own and aims it right at Spencer. Your heartbeat echoes in your ears. Spencer puts his hands up in surrender while you and Morgan keep your sights trained on him.

"Put the guns down or I'll shoot him, I swear I'll do it, just like the others!" The unsub declares while switching the safety off of his gun. Your hands begin to shake with adrenaline, but you don't put your gun down. Faintly, you can hear Morgan informing Hotch and Emily of the situation via radio but it's like you have tunnel vision on the man in front of you.

"Do it now!" He screams erratically and you see his finger dance on the trigger, just about to pull it.

An internal battle wages itself inside your mind, trying to quickly assess the pros and cons of listening to the man. Just as you go to lower your gun, you see the man grin sickeningly at Spencer with an evil glint shining in his eye; you've seen that look before. Without thinking, you turn and knock Spencer out of the way just as you hear the shot go off. Spencer slams into the brick wall beside him, chest heaving with panicked breaths. Behind you, you can hear Morgan yelling something but his voice sounds miles away.

All you feel is a blinding, white-hot pain.

Blinking rapidly, you look down and see that your shirt is quickly becoming stained a deep scarlet red. Your heart is pumping at an alarming pace, you can feel your pulse in your neck. The red stain keeps growing but your mind can't comprehend what's going on. Large hands obscure the stain from your view, and you finally look up to see Spencer's hazel eyes, wide and afraid.

He gently brings your body to the ground, leaning you against the brick wall you had shoved him into. His hands apply pressure to the wound, sending a shockwave of pain through your entire body. It feels like you can't catch your breath, you fight for oxygen every few seconds and even that makes your body feel like you've just been set ablaze. The edges of your vision start going black, and you can't really see anything clearly anymore. Your mind is a jumble of incoherent thoughts that just sounds like static.

"Hey, hey look at me. Come on now. Stay with me. Please." You feel a tap on your cheek and your blurry vision can make out Spencer's form, his fingers coated in red. A wave of nausea and pain racks through your system, and you try to reach out for Spencer, but your arms are just too heavy, and words take too much effort. It's easier to just close your eyes.

-----

A constant beeping sound stirs you awake. You don't even remember falling asleep. Trying to open your eyes feels like an impossible task, like they've been bonded shut with super glue. Your throat feels like a desert, and you start to panic, not remembering where you are. Mental images of the unsub's flesh creations flash through your mind and you start panicking, thinking that somehow he got you.

The panic is enough to make your eyes open, and you're greeted with bright lights. Flinching, you squint your eyes and look around. This isn't the unsub's workshop, no, this looks like a hospital. Your eyes travel down your body, seeing lines embedded in your arms, a plastic piece clamped over your finger, and a large white bandage wrapped around your stomach. As if on cue, your stomach starts to burn like hot coals had just been placed there. An image of Spencer's hand covered in bright red flashes behind your eyelids.

A nurse walks through the doors and smiles when she catches your eye. She comes to your bedside and sets down an IV bag full of clear liquid.

"Glad to see you're finally awake. How do you feel?" She asks and you go to answer her, but your throat is too dry, so you just end up coughing. The nurse crosses your room and returns moments later with a plastic cup half full of water. Greedily, you take it from her and drink the water, a lone stream wandering down your chin. Once the cup is empty, you decide to finally answer her.

"Not great." You admit, trying to reposition but unable to do so because of the pain. The nurse nods as she hangs the new IV bag from the metal rack beside your bed.

"I imagine so. I'll give you something to dull the pain." She tells you, resting a gentle hand on your upper arm. Your eyes are glued to her hand and you nod, anticipating the relief of pain medication.

"What exactly happened?" You ask, only able to remember tiny bits and pieces. The image of Spencer's hand refuses to leave your mind but you just can't remember what happened before, or after, that moment. The nurse looks down to the bandage covering your torso.

"An ambulance brought you in last night. You got shot through the abdomen and had to be rushed into surgery. There was sustained damage to your liver and other intestines, but nothing life-threatening. You gave your coworkers quite the scare though, they didn't want to leave but we had to send them home." Her voice is soothing despite the words leaving her mouth, like she was used to delivering this sort of news. Which she probably is. You stare down at the bandage on your stomach, trying to remember anything else, but being unsuccessful.

"So when can I leave?" You ask, knowing that there's an incident report or two waiting for you on your desk. Truthfully, you'd rather do anything but those reports right now, seeing as how you can't even remember a major event, but you know the job doesn't allow for much downtime.

"Probably tomorrow or the next day depending on how well you're doing." She reassures you, and you can live with that. If the team wants the paperwork done that badly, they can bring it to you. Otherwise, you're perfectly content to stay here for a little while. The nurse exits the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

From what you can remember, Spencer was definitely there when you got shot. His hands were covered in your blood, that part you can vividly remember. Your heart sinks as you are able to recall the look in his eyes, how scared he was. You hope he doesn't blame himself for what happened, you know it isn't his fault even if you can't quite remember how it all went down. If the roles were reversed you can't even imagine the wreck you would be; the thought alone makes you sick.

-----

The next day your doctor clears you for discharge, and you call Hotch to come pick you up. You have no family to call to get you or take care of you, Hotch and the team are the closest thing you have. You had almost called Spencer, but decided against it because you're not sure if you're ready to see him just yet. Hotch's car pulls up to the curb and he hops out to help you in the car but you wave him off.

"I got shot I'm not immobile." You try to tease as you grimace, pulling yourself into the passenger seat. Hotch closes the door once you're in and quickly returns to the driver's seat. His hands grip the wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white. He starts the route back to your home without a word, but you can tell something is bothering him.

"What's up?" You break the silence, the curiosity of what he's thinking becoming too much. Hotch glances at you from the corner of his eye before training his eyes back on the road.

"You're off of field duty for the next few months. Technically, you should be on a leave of absence for a while but I know you won't abide by it. But, you have to promise me you won't overwork yourself. You got shot, you need to take care of yourself." His words come out slow and even, which contradicts his body language. There's something else going on, but you know him well enough to know he's not going to tell you.

"No field work, got it." You agree, knowing it's the best deal you're going to get. When another agent was shot on the job about a year ago, they made her stay out of the office for four months. You'd go crazy under those restrictions.

The two of you ride in silence until he pulls up outside of your quaint home. The lights are all off and the mail has gone unchecked. Dark clouds in the sky start emitting light sprinkles, likely to turn into a storm. With a sigh, you look to Hotch, whose eyes are already on you and you smile weakly at him, trying to mask the pain shooting up your spine.

"Thank you, Hotch." You say and open the door despite your body's protests.

"If you need anything, don't hesitate to call." He tells you with a father-like authority. You nod your head, knowing he means it.

"I will." You confirm and close the door. Hotch drives off and you check your overflowing mailbox before heading up the short stone walkway to your home. You're thankful for the stair railings as you have to pull yourself up each step to reach your front door. From what should be a simple, few-second task, it feels like you've run a marathon. The keys fumble around in your hands but you're able to unlock the door after a few attempts.

Your home is unusually dark and cold inside. The mail finds itself scattered across the dining room table and you go around turning on a lamp or two to bring some life back into the space. Clutching the back of your couch, you catch your breath and look down at your torso. With careful hands, you lift your shirt and look at the bandage. Thankfully it doesn't look like the stitches have broken, it's just a lot of pain. The doctor had given you two prescriptions to fill, but you probably won't go pick them up, you can't imagine how painful it would be to drive a car right now; moving your arms and legs, straining your abdomen. It's just not worth it in your mind. And you're surely not going to inconvenience anyone to pick it up for you, they probably couldn't anyways seeing as how one of them is a narcotic.

Instead of doing anything else, you go around and lay down on your couch, propping your head on a throw pillow and pulling the blanket draped over the back overtop of you. Thunder sounds off overhead, and you know the rain will put you to sleep if the pain doesn't do it first.

The plush material of the blanket soothes you somewhat, it definitely feels better than the hospital blankets. Thick raindrops start pelting the window situated on the wall perpendicular to the couch, giving you the perfect view through your sheer curtains. Your eyes droop as you watch the droplets race each other to the bottom but you don't want to sleep, it's pretty much all you've done the past two days.

While your eyes concentrate on the raindrops pelting the window your mind races with all the thoughts you've slept away in the hospital. Since first waking up, you've been able to recall most of what happened, the doctors told you it was a normal thing to experience, but it freaked you out as you just kept remembering what happened. You can hear Spencer's voice begging you to stay awake and you remember shoving him out of the way so he wouldn't be shot.

While the pain of being shot is like nothing you've experienced before, you know you'd do it all over again to save Spencer. And that terrifies you. It's for that reason you haven't contacted him yet, but you see the messages he's left on your phone, asking if you're okay and if he can do anything for you. If it had been him that got shot, and he didn't pull through, you know you'd crumble, you'd absolutely lose yourself. And that shakes you to your core. You knew you and Spencer were close, but you never realized just how deep your love for him runs.

Being shot made you understand that in this line of work it's not smart to form these personal ties, for reasons such as this. If the roles were reversed and he did die, you know you wouldn't be able to continue doing your job. It's been made abundantly obvious to you during your time on the BAU that these deep connections could pose a threat to your safety, and that's never been more clear to you than it is right now. It's precisely the reason you don't answer Spencer at all. You feel guilty, but you know it's better like this in the long run. You can't stomach the thought of him taking a bullet for you, so you have to distance yourself, for his safety.

-----

Five days later you decide to return to the office. You're feeling slightly better, the pain is still strikingly difficult to deal with, but you can't stand another day being cooped up in your house. Plus, you know there's at least one incident report waiting for you.

You leave early to give yourself enough time to get there, and you find out that you were right about driving, it definitely does not feel good. You reach the office later than you usually do, but you don't really care. The team isn't even expecting you for another two days, so there's no punctuality expectation. After you get out of your car and make your way across the parking lot you find that a pit of dread has taken residence in your stomach, right next to the aching pain; and you're nervous to walk through the doors that have become so familiar. But the elevator ride is too short for your comfort and you find yourself staring at those very doors before you're truly prepared.

With one hand lightly resting on your abdomen, you force yourself into the office, where everyone is busy with their daily duties. Maybe you can just slip in here without anyone noticing you. Your steps are drastically slower than normal, and you make it halfway to your desk before you hear someone calling out your name.

"What are you doing here? Thought you weren't supposed to be back until Monday." Morgan asks, tossing a file on top of his keyboard. You clear your throat and try your best to smile.

"Just couldn't stay away I guess." You say and finish the journey to your desk, feeling your legs start going weak. Within the days you've spent at home, you couldn't bring yourself to exert much energy getting food, you mainly just spent time wrapped up in a blanket on your couch. Your body is weaker than it ever has been, from both malnutrition and the gunshot, but nobody needs to know that, then they'd start to hover. You'd much rather just suffer in silence and take care of yourself. Morgan follows you over to your desk and you're hypervigilant to keep up a good appearance.

"We've been worried about you. Nobody's heard from you since Hotch picked you up." He says and you glance over to Hotch's office, seeing the door closed.

"Yeah, sorry about that. I've just been trying to rest and heal up." It's not a total lie, just not the entire truth either. You meet Morgan's eyes as if to seal the deal, and thankfully he doesn't push you further on the matter, he just puts a hand on your shoulder.

"Well it's good to have you back." He says before departing back to his own desk.

You open the cover of the file that's sitting on your desk, seeing blank pages waiting for you to fill them out. Grabbing your favorite pen, you start jotting down your notes of the incident report up until you get to the part where you were shot. The pen hovers over the page for minutes, and you can't seem to find the right words. The opening of Hotch's door distracts you and you see him and Spencer walk out. Spencer's eyes lock with yours immediately and he wastes no time abandoning his conversation with Hotch to come over to you. You knew this time would come, you were just hoping to avoid it for a while longer.

"How are you? Are you okay? You weren't supposed to be back until Monday." A flurry of questions gets thrown at you while Spencer looks you over as if he's expecting to see another bleeding wound on you.

"I'm fine, thanks." You keep your answer short, too short for his liking and you know it. Guilt sits heavily in your heart, but you remind yourself that this is for his benefit and wellbeing. You can deal with a broken heart, you can't deal with Spencer dying and that's why this is necessary. His eyebrows scrunch together, confused about why you're acting so strangely.

"I tried to text you." He says, lowering his voice, eyes tender and full of worry. If only you could reach out to him, to feel his soft skin under your fingertips and tell him about the hell you've been going through. Instead, you lick your lips and nod shortly,

"I saw. I just, I wanted some time alone." You lie straight to his face and watch as he buys it so easily. Disappointment paints itself all over his face, but he nods anyways and shoves his hands into his pockets.

"Right. Sorry, well, um, you know where I'll be." He says in a hushed voice before turning and walking to his own desk. Your eyes clamp themselves shut and your fists clench, leaving crescent-shaped indents in your palms as you take a deep breath and fight away the tears that threaten to spill.

Once you've regained control of yourself, you pick your pen back up and focus on nothing else but getting this report done. You force yourself to write robotically, stating only the concise facts of what happened and not a detail more. You're sure the other agents' reports will make up for yours, you just need to get this done and filed so you can leave. The air in the office space is suffocating.

After what feels like a short eternity, you've finally completed the report and you shut the front cover of the file and push yourself out of your chair, gritting your teeth the entire time.

"Need help?" You hear Morgan's voice behind you, and you're quick to shake your head.

"No, I'm fine, thank you." You say as you stand as straight as you can, grabbing the file off your desk with one hand, the other rests over your wound, which feel unusually warm. Fearing the worst, you make your way to Hotch's office, biting your cheek the entire way there.

When you enter his office he looks at you with uncharacteristically soft eyes. He waits for you to make the first move and you put the folder on his desk, letting out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. He opens the folder and reads over your work before tossing it on top of a pile of other folders.

"What's going on with you?" He asks and stands to shut his door. Hotch closes the blinds on the office windows as well, so that the other agents can't see into the room and you're thankful. Your bottom lip quivers as a sharp hot pain radiates from your wound and you feel your throat constrict. Grasping the back of a chair situated in front of his desk you lean your weight on it to try and alleviate the pain, but it isn't working.

"Let me see." Hotch stands from his desk and stands beside you. Once you feel you can stand on your own you lift the edge of your shirt up, exposing the bandage wrapped around you. From your vantage point you can see the warm red skin peeking out from the bandage.

"That's not good, that looks like it's becoming infected." Hotch's voice is thick with worry and he delicately peels back the bandage to examine the wound and you bite down on your hand to keep from crying out. The air coming into contact with it feels like he just pushed a fire poker right through the stitches.

"We're leaving right now, that's definitely infected." Hotch secures the bandage back and you shake your head.

"I'll be fine, it's just part of the healing process." You try to downplay the situation. In reality, you know that it's not good for your wound to be that red or warm, but if the two of you leave right now the others are going to know something's up. And that will inevitably lead to them hovering over you.

"No, it's not. You're going to come with me or I'll call the squad." Hotch threatens and you see no trace of a lie in his eyes or in his tone. Relenting, you agree to go with him. He leads you out of the office and you keep your head down, compelling yourself to not look at Spencer, who's undoubtedly tracking your every move.

Once you reach the parking lot Hotch begins questioning you. He helps you into his car and you let him, not having the energy to fight him.

"Have you not been taking the medicine prescribed to you? I know they gave you an antibiotic." He scolds, knowing the answer. If you had been taking them, you wouldn't be showing up to the office with an angry gunshot wound.

"Hurt too much to drive and get them." You keep your answer short and he huffs in annoyance, but starts driving somewhere to get you the medical attention you need. Deep down you're thankful Hotch cares this much, he's the closest thing to real family you have.

Last Thanksgiving the team found out that you have no family to spend the holidays with. You had never meant to tell them, but holiday plans came up in conversation and yours were painfully dull and lonely compared to theirs. But Hotch invited you to his family's Thanksgiving dinner. At first, you had declined, not wanting to intrude on his family time away from work, but he wasn't taking no for an answer. Now you're glad that he persisted and you went. His wife, Haley, took you under her wing and everything just fell into place; you're practically their surrogate daughter at this point.

After Hotch makes sure that you get looked at by a doctor, and that you actually have your intended prescriptions, he drops you off at your home and makes you promise that you'll send him a video of you taking your medicine on schedule. Knowing that if you don't, he will most definitely drive over here and count the pills, you agree. And as a punishment for not taking the medicine in the first place, he makes you agree to stay out of the office for another week.

-----

The week passes too quickly for your liking. Each day Spencer had texted you, asking if you're okay, that he's worried about you, and that he misses you. It broke your heart to not reply to him, every fiber of your being yearned to text him back, to let him know that you're okay. The temptation to abandon your decision of distancing yourself from him grew stronger each day. It became so tempting that you forced yourself to let your phone battery die and then you buried it underneath the clothes in your dresser so that it would stay out of sight.

But now, as you stare up at the office building from the parking lot, you know that you won't be able to avoid him today and you know that you're going to have to not give into temptation. Every time you want to slip, you're going to have to remind yourself that this is for his safety. You remember that you can deal with the heartbreak, the possibility of him hating you, but you'll never be able to go on if he dies. So you have to do everything in your power to make sure he will never have a reason to make a decision to take a bullet for you, like you did him.

Eventually, you walk into the office, admittedly in a lot less pain than last time. Who knew that taking your prescribed antibiotics would make your life easier? As soon as your foot crosses the threshold of the door, you feel like everyone's eyes are upon you. Instead of looking around to confirm your suspicions, you make a straight route right to your desk. But, of course that doesn't stop people from coming over.

"Back again. You look better this time." Morgan smiles and slides to sit on the edge of your desk. You smile back at him, feeling refreshed and healthier than last time.

"Feel better too. Any new cases?" You ask, hoping to establish some normalcy back into your routine. Typically, you and Spencer carpool to work together and his missing presence from your morning routine didn't go unmissed. Morgan licks his lips and nods,

"Yeah we just got back from one out in Colorado. I think there's another briefing at ten." He tells you, taking a sip of his coffee. You know you won't be let into the field yet, but you at least want to sit in on the briefing. More than likely you'll be paired with Garcia, and you're fine with that.

Morgan slides off your desk and as he moves you see Spencer staring straight at you. His eyes look bloodshot, there are dark circles under his eyes. He looks like he hasn't had a decent night of sleep for a month and his hair is a mess. His lips fall open as you two make eye contact, but you're quick to look away before you go over to comfort him. The inside of your cheeks burn from how hard you're biting them.

Once ten rolls around the team files into the conference room, and you're careful to stand in the back instead of taking your usual seat. Prentiss gives you an odd look but she doesn't say anything. It's glaringly obvious to everyone that something is off, but you assure them you should stand to help your blood circulation. As Hotch starts going over the next case you feel a familiar pair of eyes lingering on your face, but you stare right at Hotch.

Soon enough, the rest of the team is off to work a local case, and you stay in the office to help Garcia. She pulls up a chair for you to sit on, and the two of you get to work without saying a word. It's weird for there to be a silence so thick between the two of you, you two always work so well together and you love Penelope. As she waits for something to load, she taps a pen on her desk and takes a deep breath.

"What's wrong?" You ask, not being able to take it any longer. The tapping pen stills and she looks over to you with an uncertain look on her face.

"What's wrong with me? Nothing, I'm perfect as a peach." She tries to lie, but you can read her too well. Your eyebrows raise, and you push her further.

"Come on, Pen. I know you better than that. Tell me." You implore and she bites her lower lip, conflicted with herself as if she should say anything or not. But eventually your staring gets to her and she breaks.

"Fine. Fine, but you didn't hear this from me. Spencer thinks that you blame him for getting shot and that's why you've been dodging him." You've never heard such ridiculous words come out of Penelope's mouth, and you've heard her say a lot over the years. Taken aback, your mouth falls open and you blink, trying to come up with something to say.

"No. Of course it's not his fault. I pushed him out of the way, he didn't pull me into the bullet's path." You say, wanting to set the record straight. Your heart aches at the thought of Spencer beating himself up, thinking that you blame him for your own actions. You know you won't tell him this directly, but you're certain Garcia will relay the message. And that will have to be good enough.

"What's going on with you two then?" Her voice is uncharacteristically soft. You know you can't tell her what you're really doing because you know she'll fight you on it and try to dissuade you. So you choose to dodge the question altogether.

"There. The victim's information loaded." You point at her screen and she scowls at you, but turns in her chair and resumes her job anyways. While she does her research you busy yourself with putting pins on a map, trying to figure out where the unsub is going to strike next.

Later, the team returns to the office before going home for the day. You're at your desk, shutting down your computer and making sure your file drawer is locked, and when you grab the jacket off the back of your chair, you see Spencer talking to Morgan at his desk. He catches you out of the corner of his eye, and you brush past the two of them before either one of them can say something to you. Your heart shatters a little with each step, but you remind yourself why you're doing this. If you didn't, you're convinced you would have turned back and never let Spencer go.

-----

Three days later, the case is solved. The unsub basically handed the team a map right to himself and chose not to lawyer up when Hotch questioned him. It's almost like he wanted to be caught. You don't dwell on the thought too much, you're just glad another murderer is off the street. While everyone else cheers about the victory as they fill out their reports, you keep to yourself at your desk. Unlike the last report you filled out, you make sure this one is extensively detailed.

"What does everyone say? Celebration drinks tonight?" You hear Morgan's voice, eager and happy. The man loves to celebrate sometimes. The rest of the team agrees, and you finish your sentence, hoping they keep you out of it. If you stay quiet enough, you're sure they'll forget you're even here.

"Oh did someone say drinks?" Penelope walks into the bullpen to give Hotch something. Morgan fills her in on the details and of course she agrees.

"I'm assuming you're coming too, right?" You hear her voice but choose not to look up, hoping that she's talking to someone else. Unfortunately, she was not talking to someone else, and taps on your shoulder to make you look up. You see Spencer standing in the background with everyone else, but you keep your eyes trained on Penelope like he doesn't even exist.

"Oh, I don't know. I was thinking of calling it an early night." You admit, knowing full well that you had planned to sit on your couch all weekend binging some trashy reality show to distract yourself from your reality. Penelope frowns,

"Come on, you've never turned us down before. It'll be good for you." She says, and you can tell by the tone of her voice that she's not going to take no for an answer.

"Fine, I'll be there." You relent, with a tight smile on your face. She cheers and goes back to talking with Morgan, and you swivel around in your chair to finish the report. While you scribble words, you're already forming your escape plan for the night.

You'll stay for about an hour, after everyone has already had a few and then you'll excuse yourself. If you have to, you'll use your gunshot wound as an excuse; and yeah it's a cheap cop out, but if that's what it takes you'll do it. And then once you're out the doors you're free. It's a simple, yet effective, plan.

Hours later the team huddles around a table in a crowded bar. Usually you're all over celebratory drinks, you use it as an excuse to remind your coworkers of just how brilliant they are. But tonight, while the rest of them are chatting away happily, you sit on the edge, nursing your drink and looking out of the bar's front window. Spencer is seated across the table from you and you keep accidentally meeting his eyes, which makes the alcohol in your system warm your skin even more.

Spencer sure does make it hard for you to ignore him. After all, his puppy-dog eyes practically plead with you, silently begging for you to say something to him. You can see how hard he's being on himself, still probably convinced that you blame him for your wound. Even if Garcia told him otherwise, you know he will have a hard time buying it considering your actions completely contradict what you had said. While the others might not notice how miserable he is, you can tell. He hasn't gone on a random knowledge tangent since you've been back and he's been reusing the same coffee cup without washing it for the past few days.

You hate how hard Spencer makes it to actually dislike him, you hate how he's such a kindhearted person because it makes all of this ten times more difficult. If he had at least one dislikable trait then this would be easier, then you might have a chance of convincing yourself that you can't stand him, that you never liked him to begin with. Though you're not sure you could ever convince yourself of that, truly. As you take your last drink, you come to one reasonable conclusion: You hate that you love him.

Suddenly feeling like the room is closing in on you, you stand from your seat and make your way to the bartender to close your tab out for the night. Maybe you can just sneak out of here and nobody will notice. The bartender hands your card back to you, and you start heading towards the door. But of course a team of FBI agents noticed that you had left, and are now heading towards the door. Morgan is the first one to confront you.

"Going home already? It's not even nine yet!" He teases and you give him your best smile.

"Just starting to hurt a little." You ghost your fingers over your healing wound for extra measure, knowing they won't chastise you about that. It seems you've taken the low road after all.

"Want someone to take you home?" Penelope asks, and you're quick to decline, knowing exactly what kind of plan she has in store.

"No, thanks. That's alright, I don't live far. Have a good night everyone." You smile at Morgan, Penelope, and Prentiss before you leave. As you walk to your car you notice that everytime you turn away and leave Spencer, your heart fragments more and more. But you remember what's at stake, and you pick yourself up, the best you can, and keep moving forward. You know that the pain and turmoil you're feeling now will amount to nothing if something ever happens to Spencer.

-----

Months later your gunshot wound is practically completely healed. There's a scar that's going to be left behind, but you don't mind it. You're one week out from being cleared to go back into the field, and you're undergoing your evaluation now. You thought that you'd be happy and eager to get back out there, but instead you find yourself hesitant and nervous about it. Working with Garcia had made you feel safe and secure. So now, as you sit in Hotch's office, you try to find the words you're looking for. He's staring at you expectantly.

"I just. Hotch I don't know if I can go back out there." Your voice is shaky, and you're afraid this admission will get you dismissed from the team. He leans forward, elbows resting on his desk.

"You're saying you don't want to return to the field?" He tries to clarify. You take in a deep breath,

"I want to return to the field, I just don't know if I want to do it right now. I mean, I still get nightmares about being shot and it feels so real. What I'm trying to say is that I don't know how well I'd react in stressful situations right now." You tell him, hoping that this makes more sense. In a way, you're figuring out what exactly it is you want. His eyes narrow, trying to get a read on you. Hotch writes some words on the paper in front of him and sighs.

"I can give you another month. And I want you to start seeing a therapist." He says and you scoff immediately. Hotch holds his hand up to stop your protests before they even start.

"Listen. I don't know what's going on inside your mind since this all happened. But you haven't been yourself. And you haven't spoken to Spencer once. You two used to be the best of friends. It's none of my business to know, but you need to tell someone about it. Being shot like that is not something that someone gets over easily and without ramifications." He explains, and deep down you know he's right. You just don't want to confide to anyone about your issues.

"Sure." You agree, knowing that he's going to force you to see a therapist one way or another. If you tell him no now, you're sure someone will show up in the office next week to conduct some sort of "random psych evaluation". Hotch dismisses you from his office, and you make your way to the break room for some much needed caffeine.

The coffee in the pot is hot, like it's been freshly brewed. You pick a mug at random and fill it, then you sprinkle in a modest amount of sugar before tasting it. It's warm and comforting, like a hug from the inside. You close your eyes to help yourself destress from what happened in Hotch's office, but when you open them you see Spencer standing in the doorway. His hair is still wildly curly, there are still circles under his eyes from sleep deprivation. Even his clothes are wrinkled now, it looks like he doesn't take the time to iron them out anymore.

You two stare at each other with so much left unsaid, and you make a move to leave the room before you fold under the pressure. Your shoulder brushes his on the way out, and you hear him speak.

"Please. I'm sorry." You hear him plead with you and your steps falter, wanting so badly to just stop and turn around. To hold him close to you and apologize, to tell him you miss him so bad it makes your chest hurt and how life is dull without him. But instead, you take a scalding sip of coffee and keep moving forward like you never heard him. Each day that passes you find yourself hating how deeply you love him more and more, it's almost a constant burn in your veins.

You spend the rest of the day tucked away in Penelope's office, nose buried in a screen, doing the most menial research as if the fate of the world depends on it. Penelope doesn't say anything. She just sighs and helps you with the research.

-----

A few more weeks pass, and fall is now in full swing. There's a crisp chill to the air, the leaves are all turning colors and falling to the ground. And with fall comes your birthday. You have no real plans to celebrate, Hotch had given you your gift in the parking lot before work this morning, knowing that you don't like a lot attention being drawn to you, but it is nice to get a simple "happy birthday" from your friends.

The team packs up for the day, and your heart sinks with disappointment. It seems that nobody but Hotch had remembered your birthday. You convince yourself that this is a stupid reason to get sad, that they all have busy lives to keep up with. Plus, it's not like it's a milestone birthday anyways. Grabbing your jacket, you leave the office for the day with a heavy sadness taking residence in your chest.

When you arrive home, you turn some lamps on and toss your jacket over the back of the couch. You put Hotch's gift on the table, and go to the kitchen to open a bottle of wine. You don't bother pouring it into a glass, straight from the bottle will suffice just fine. Taking the bottle with you, you go to your room and change out of your work clothes. As you rummage through the drawers, you find your phone still sitting in the bottom of one of them.

You had never found the courage to charge it back up, afraid to see what words had been left for you. But tonight, you figure it's about time you confront your own feelings. You plug the phone in and set it on your nightstand, taking another swig of the wine and waiting for it to charge.

After what feels like hours, the phone finally turns back on. And within minutes, the notifications start pouring in. Text after text after text rolls in and the missed calls start to pile up. With another drink, you take your phone in your hand and read over the messages. There are exactly fifty seven messages from Spencer and thirty missed calls.

Your eyes scan the texts he sent you, his words sinking into the fibers of your very being, and you're saddled with an intense sorrow. Tears fall from your cheeks onto the phone's screen and you stop reading, not being able to take it anymore. All of his texts were him apologizing to you, begging you to please talk to him. You listen to the voicemails he left, hearing his voice crack and listening to him sniffle as he pleads for you to please just say something, anything. You can almost visualize him in your mind, wiping his tears as he tells you how sorry he is and how he misses you more than anything. He's begging and apologizing as if he's the one who has done anything wrong here. You hate yourself more than anything for letting him suffer like this.

You leave your phone on your nightstand and grab the wine, returning to your kitchen table, where Hotch's gift sits perfectly wrapped. Taking it in your hands, you unwrap it and look inside the box, heart stilling as you see what's inside. With trembling fingers, you grab the frame and hold it in front of your face. Hotch had given you a framed photo of the team, a picture in which Spencer is holding you tightly against his side, and you're looking up at him with stars in your eyes. The frame slips through your fingers and clatters onto the table.

You support yourself on the back of a chair, and you finally let yourself feel everything you had suppressed over the last few months. Sobs shake your body and the tears fall onto the photo. Your hands clutch the back of the chair until your knuckles turn white, afraid that if you let go you'll collapse to the ground.

A knock at the door catches you off guard and you try to level out your breathing, using the back of your hand to wipe the tears from your cheeks. You aren't expecting anyone, and you almost consider just leaving it be, but your curiosity gets the best of you. Knowing that you probably look deranged and pathetic, you open the door anyways.

Spencer stands in the doorway, a small box in his hands along with a bouquet of your favorite fresh-cut flowers.

Your mouth falls open, and you think your heart might actually jump out of your chest. He looks you over, an obvious concern coming over his face. You should shut the door on him, tell him to go away, but your resolve has crumbled, like dust in the wind.

"Can I come in?" He whispers, and you nod, letting him inside your home, where he's been so many times but now it feels like the first time all over again. Your house is in a state of disarray, and if you hadn't just been sobbing over a photo of him, you might care more. You wipe more tears from your eyes and you clear your throat, not exactly sure what to say or do. But thankfully, he speaks up again.

"Happy birthday." His voice is soft, and he gives you a small smile, but the sadness is evident in his eyes.

"You didn't have to get me anything." You say, looking at the beautiful flowers and carefully wrapped box, topped with a ribbon of your favorite color. He takes a step towards you, and hands you the flowers first. As you take them, your fingers brush his and it feels like the air has been kicked out of your lungs.

"I know, but I wanted to." He says, meeting your eyes. You catch the scent of the flowers, appreciating their freshness and the life they bring to your otherwise sad home. Making your way into your kitchen, you find a vase to put the flowers in and then you set them on the table. Spencer's eye catches the photo, and you know he can see the wetness that still adorns the frame. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to put the pieces together.

"Thank you, Spencer." You say after you position the flowers just right. Willingly, you catch his eye and you know you can never go back to ignoring him after this. He glances from you, to the photo, then back to you before he hands you the box. Lifting the top off, you see a beautiful gold chain inside that has a beautiful gemstone pendant hanging from it.

"I picked the stone because it reminded me of your eyes." He sheepishly admits, and you look up at him through your lashes with the purest and deepest love flowing through you. But through that love, the guilt eats you alive.

"Spencer, this is too much. I've been horrible to you lately, I don't deserve this. And I definitely don't deserve your kindness." You say, looking into his gorgeous, kind eyes. The tension is noticeable between you, and you wish it would melt away and that you two could go back to how things used to be.

"I've missed you so much." Is all he says, voice cracking and you see tears gather in his eyes. Unable to help yourself, you set the necklace on the table and close the gap between the two of you, resting your hand on his cheek. Your bottom lip trembles,

"I'm so sorry Spencer. I'm so sorry." You say, tears once again flowing down your face. He sniffles as a tear runs down his cheek onto your thumb.

"Why?" Is all he asks but you know exactly what he means. You decide to come clean to him, there's no use of lying now.

"When I got shot, I realized that if you had been the one who got hit, and you didn't make it, that I wouldn't be able to live. The thought of living in a world without you is too much. So I had to make sure that I didn't give you a reason to make the same choice I did. I could live with you hating me, but I couldn't live in a world without you. I wanted you to hate me so that you wouldn't risk your life for me." Your thumb gently brushes his cheekbone, trembling with your words. He closes his eyes as tears keep falling down his cheeks. One of his hands comes up and grabs yours that's on his face, and he grips it tight.

"When I realized you had taken the bullet for me, I knew that nothing would be the same between us. I thought I was going to lose you. Your blood was on my hands, and it's the only thing I have nightmares about anymore. And this made me realize that I can never stop loving you, no matter what happens." He admits, causing you to cry harder. The remorse you feel for putting him through so much torment feels like it's eating you from the inside. You should have been there for him.

"I'm so sorry." Is all you can say, it's all you can express to him right now. He needs to know that you didn't mean any of it. Spencer pulls you in for a hug and holds you tight against him. One of his hands cradles the back of your head, the other is secure around your waist. Your tears stain his sweater, and the two of you let out everything.

When you finally pull back from the hug you grab his face with gentle hands, making him look at you.

"Spencer, I love you so much. I need you to know that I did what I did because I love you too much to lose you." You admit to him and he smiles. A genuine smile that you haven't seen in months. Through the tears and emotions, you two smile widely at one another.

Spencer closes the gap between the two of you, and tilts your chin up. Your lips connect with his ever so softly, and you pull him closer to you, your hands trailing down his torso, collecting fistfuls of his sweater. One of his hands rests on your cheek, brushing your cheekbone and the other keeps you close to him.

Everything that has gone unsaid is spoken loud and clear as you kiss one another. When your lungs start burning, begging for air, you break away and lean your forehead on his chest. He brushes your hair with his fingers and you feel him press a tender kiss to the top of your head. You stay entangled with each other in a comfortable silence before you look up at him,

"We'll be alright." You tell him, knowing that the two of you will be able to mend each other in time. And things may never be like they were, and that's okay.

"We'll be alright." He confirms, kissing your forehead.

Eventually, you two move to the couch and you ask him to clasp the necklace around your neck. In the soft, warm glow of the lamps you look into his eyes and can see all of the love he holds for you. You take one of his hands in yours and he positions himself so that you can lay back against him. He's warm, and being held by him feels like home.

Laying in his arms, you decide you don't want to return to the field. After all, if you're not in the field he won't ever be faced with the decision to take a bullet for you or not. As long as he's in your life, and you're in his, things will be okay. Before you drift off to sleep, you lean up and press a kiss to his temple.

You have everything you need right here in your arms.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #dr spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid comfort #hurt/comfort #hotch #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #derek morgan #penelope garcia #spencer reid fluff #harry styles #Spotify

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h00nerz · 8 months

Text

cruel summer!

“i love you, ain’t that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?”

masterlist | moodboard | playlist

paring: choi yeonjun x fem!reader

genre: summer romance/fling, childhood friends to strangers to lovers, fluff, angst

word count: 30k

warnings: profanity, suggestive content, cheating, divorce, implications of sex but no smut, alcohol consumption, mentions of smoking weed i think, that’s it afaik

summary: following a painful divorce from your father, your mother is desperate to escape from reality. it turns out, the best way to do that is to visit your childhood vacation spot you hadn’t been to in nearly a decade. you’re reunited with your old friend, choi yeonjun, who has grown from some annoying, scrawny kid into a handsome, charming man. when yeonjun sets his sights on you, it’s practically impossible to resist his charm. the only issue is summer can’t last forever, and neither can your romance.

authors note: this fic is literally six months in the making so i am beyond enthused i’m finally able to post it! this is truly a massive fic i am so so sorry but i hope you’ll enjoy reading it!! thanks to everyone who’s supported my adventure writing this thing, especially linny and sav!

IT WAS INCREDIBLE TO YOU HOW all it took was one little choice to completely alter the course of someone’s life. When you were eleven, you’d opted for a different way to walk home from school, and just happened to pass by a ballet studio where a group of dancers were practicing. From that moment on, you’d become infatuated with dance, convincing your parents to let you enroll in a studio and beginning your own career as a dancer. When you were seventeen, you chose not to go to school one day just because you didn’t feel like it, and the bus you usually took had gotten into a bad wreck that morning.

Most notable, though, was when you were twenty-one, when your dad had made the choice to sleep with your family’s housekeeper, and your mom chose to come home from her business trip a day early to surprise the family. Those two choices led to your mother catching your father in the act, and then to her retaining an attorney to draft up divorce papers. Before you even had a moment to stop and process everything that was going on, your parents were split up, and your dad disappeared without so much as a goodbye.

You expected for your mom to be more upset. After all, her husband of 25 years had just thrown away the trust they’d spend so long to build away like it was nothing, but she wasn’t. Her focus remained on her work, the same as it always had. Work was always something very important to your mother, even since you were just a little girl. Consequently, she wasn’t home very much when you were growing up, which you thought you were fine with at the time. It wasn’t until you were older you reflected back on your childhood and how it affected you. At some point, you wondered if it was part of the reason your parents’ marriage ended the way you did, but you knew it was still your dad’s fault at the end of the day.

You never suspected anything to be wrong with her until she randomly suggested the two of you go spend the summer at your old family beach house together. There was no reason she would have proposed taking an entire three months away from her work--alone with you, nonetheless--unless she was searching for some kind of distraction from all of the events that had transpired in the earlier months.

It had been nearly a decade since the last time you visited your old beach house. You had gone nearly every summer of your childhood there, spending the long hours of the summer days building sand castles and swimming with the friends you had made while you were there. Then, when the sun was starting to set, you would wander around town with your parents, getting dinner together and then some ice cream that you would eat while you pointed out different constellations in the stars. You had amazing memories associated with the little beach town, but that's all they were. Memories.

You were now finishing up your junior year of college, and those three months of summer were the last you’d have before you started your senior year, and prepared for graduating. So, truthfully, spending an entire summer in some rinky-dink town alone with your mother did not sound too enticing. However, you knew she was going through a difficult time, and frankly so were you. You convinced yourself that this bonding experience was exactly what the two of you needed, and even though you would rather stay in your hometown and have some fun with your friends before being thrust into the real world, you decided to go.

The little beachside town was exactly how you remembered it. Warm, friendly, and full of life. Everywhere you looked, there were people out and about, taking advantage of the city sidewalks and the nice weather to get to where they needed to go. It was a beautiful little town, and even though you hadn’t really wanted to go in the first place, you found yourself reveling in the familiar feeling. You even caught sight of the little ice cream stall on main street your family always went to in the past. A thick wave of nostalgia washed over you, and suddenly you felt like a little girl all over again. But when you looked to your left, the sight of your mother driving the car and not your father grounded you to the reality of your situation.

“Aw, look, Y/N? Remember that store? You would always pick something out to bring home.” Your mother laughed as you cruised down main street, and you peered out the window to see the little souvenir shop you always visited while you were in town. Instinctively, your fingers leapt to your neck, toying with the shell necklace you chose to wear for your trip.

“And there! Isn’t that where your little friend used to live?” She looked the most excited you’d seen her in awhile as she scanned the buildings you passed by. It made you feel better about your decision to agree to this trip.

“You mean Jisu?” You asked, tilting your head to get a better look at the house. Jisu’s family actually lived in the town, and she was one of the friends you had made when you were younger. You never really kept in touch with her outside of your time spent together, so you had no idea what she was up to these days. You weren’t even sure her family still lived in town.

“Yes, Jisu! Oh, the Chois were such a lovely family, we should stop by and see if they’re still around, maybe we could even ask them to dinner.”

She continued to point out random landmarks and recall old memories as you drove through the little town, but at some point you had drowned her out. You instead took in the surroundings for yourself, letting your own memories play out in your head. You, Jisu and your other friend Chaeryeong would ride your bikes around the town and use the money your parents gave you to get giant snow cones together. It was crazy to think that you once considered those girls to be your closest friends in the whole world, now you could barely remember what they looked like.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of your mother blabbing on about all the things your family used to do, and all the things she wanted to do now, you reached your old beach house. As soon as you saw it, you were reminded of all your childhood memories of that little house. Playing board games in the sun room, sitting on the porch and watching the sun dip down below the waves, eating waffles for breakfast every morning…

“Y/N, come on, your bags.” Your mother’s voice interrupted your little slideshow of memories playing in your brain. You would have more time to reminisce later.

A COUPLE OF HOURS AFTER YOUR ARRIVAL, most of your belongings were unpacked, and you were ready for dinner. Unfortunately for you, though, your mother was not ready, since she had apparently decided to bring her entire closet on the trip and had barely made it halfway through unpacking by the time you were finished. More fortunate, however, she told you to just go pick up dinner for the both of you from a local restaurant while she worked, so you wouldn’t have to sit around and wait for her.

Jake’s was an old burger shop that was very popular amongst the town, and for good reason, too. Their cheeseburgers were some of the best you’d ever come across during your twenty plus years on earth, and you were very excited to finally have one again after all these years. You hoped they still held up. As soon as you walked through the door, the aroma of all the different foods filled your nose, and another thick wave of nostalgia hit you like a truck. You were immediately reminded of the nights your family spent in a booth there, your mother and dad talking about whatever nonsense while you contently sipped on your milkshake that was nearly twice the size that you were.

You had already called in the order before leaving, so all you had to do now was sit and wait for them to be ready with your food. Two double cheeseburgers, two medium fries, a large chocolate milkshake and a large strawberry milkshake. The thought of getting to drink one of those milkshakes after all these years made your mouth water.

“Y/N?” You heard a voice call out, and whipped around to face the direction it had come from. At first you thought it was your food being done, but instead it was a familiar face you hadn’t seen in years.

“Jisu! Hi!” You greeted your old friend, holding your arms out to envelop her in a warm hug. The interaction felt somehow foreign and familiar at the same time, but mostly the latter.

“Wow! It’s been, what, nine years since we last saw each other?” She asked after pulling away from the hug, her hands still rested on your forearms.

“Something like that.” You laughed softly, taking a moment to really take in how much she had changed over the years. She obviously looked completely different, since she was a grown woman now, but she also looked exactly the same. “You still live here?”

She nodded, looking you up and down as she did the same thing you did. “Yep. I mean, I go to college out of town so I’m gone during the school year, but I always come back home when I get the chance.” She smiled fondly at you, and she had the kind of smile that made you feel all warm and fuzzy all over just at the sight of it. “What about you?”

The two of you continued to chat, catching one another up on the basics of how things had gone over the last nine years. It turned out both she and Chaeryeong’s families still lived in the area, and the two were still very close friends. She even suggested the three of you get together sometime soon, for old time’s sake. You filled her in on how you were also attending school, and still did dance as a hobby to keep you busy. You chose to leave out the part of your life where your dad cheated with the housekeeper that was only a few years older than you, and the part where your parents got a divorce. It wasn’t something you were quite ready to tell people about, not even Jisu.

You were interrupted by your name being called, which meant your food was finally ready.

“Well, I guess we should probably head back to our own places before our food gets cold, right?” Jisu suggested, clutching her own bag of food between her hands.

“Probably. I think my mom will kill me if I let her shake melt.” You replied, which earned a laugh out of Jisu.

“Hey, um, a few of my friends are having a big bonfire party on the beach tomorrow night, you should come.” She told you as you both exited the small restaurant, an invitation that made your heart flip. You suddenly felt horrible for never keeping in contact with her, because she was much sweeter than any of your friends at home. You had been in town less than twenty four hours, and she was already inviting you to spend time with her.

“Really?” You asked her, raising your eyebrows. “Yeah, I would love to come!”

“Really?” She echoed, eyes widening as if you had just told her you would give her a thousand dollars. “That’s great! I’ll let them know you’re coming, I’m sure most of them will love to see you again!” She spoke giddily, nearly leaping out of her own skin from excitement.

You bid each other goodbye, and then went your separate ways. The entire walk back to the house, you couldn’t hide your happiness no matter how hard you tried. Maybe, just maybe, this trip wasn't going to be as bad as you had anticipated. You shouldn’t have spoken so soon, though, as you still had three months to go.

FOR THE LIFE OF YOU, you could not figure out why this party was making you so nervous. You’d spent nearly an hour in your closet, digging through your clothes and throwing them around so by the time you’d finally settled on something, your floor had disappeared under a sea of clothes. Maybe it was because you were going to be here for three months, and if you didn’t make friends now, you were going to spend all that time alone with no one except your own mother, who would surely drive you insane.

At first, you felt a bit guilty about leaving her home alone all night, but luckily for you, she had found some old friends of her own to go out with. And now, here you were, standing on the sidewalk and staring down at the beach where the fire was already going, and a lot more than a few friends had gathered to party. You were trying to find Jisu amidst the crowd of people, so you could easily approach her first, but you were having a difficult time locating her in the darkness. And you probably looked like an idiot, just standing there and waiting for something, but you would rather do that than have to go down there alone.

It had been a long time since you’d been to a proper party. Sure, you had lots of friends of your own back in the city, but most of them were too school oriented to ever attend parties, and you were afraid of going to one without at least one of your friends. So, you were definitely afraid now.

“Yeri!” You heard a voice behind you shout, and nearly jumped out of your own skin when you felt a hand on your shoulder. You flipped around to see some guy you’d never met before standing behind you, a panicked look on his face as he held up his hands in surrender. “Oh, sorry. Definitely not Yeri.”

“No, not Yeri.” You laughed nervously, reaching up to protectively hold your shoulders.

“Hmm, I don’t think we’ve met before? If you’re not Yeri, who are you?” He asked inquisitively, taking a step closer to you as you tried to turn away from him.

“Oh, my name is Y/N.” You replied, your cheeks warming at how close he was standing next to you. In the darkness of the night, you couldn’t quite make out his face, but guessing by the few features that were illuminated by the glow of the bonfire, you could guess he was quite handsome. The realization suddenly made you even more nervous.

“Y/N? Like Y/N L/N?” You glanced over at him to see him gaping at you in surprise, and furrowed your eyebrows together.

“Uh, yeah? Why?”

He laughed softly. “So, you don’t recognize me?” He rose an eyebrow at you, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes. You could barely see his face, how were you supposed to recognize him?

“No… Should I?” You queried, tilting your head to the side as if it would give you a better view of his face.

“I don’t know… Does Crab Castle ring a bell?” And ring a bell it did. Those two words immediately gave you flashbacks to one summer you’d been in town, and one of Jisu’s cousins had come to visit as well. He and you had been building sand castles on the same beach, when you first ran into each other, and at first you had decided he was your rival. You tried everything in your power to sabotage his castles, and he destroyed your’s. But, another kid had showed up on the same beach, and his castles were much more intricate and sophisticated than either of yours’. So, you proposed the two of you teamed up to make the best castle that beach had ever seen.

That was how Crab Castle was born, the sand castle that you had, at the time, thought was the greatest sand castle ever to be built. It had multiple towers, and archways, and you even made your own custom crab emblem to decorate the castle. It took you from sunrise until sunset to build it, and before you were dragged home by your parents, you decided to destroy it together, which had honestly been way more fun than your time spent building it up.

Your eyes went wide.

“Yeonjun?!” You laughed in disbelief, taking a step back to get a better look at him. Compared to the weird little boy you had competed with on the beach ten years ago, he was a completely different person. A taller, more muscular, and definitely more good-looking person. You couldn’t believe it was Yeonjun standing in front of you. “Holy shit, you look…”

“Taller? Hotter? More muscular?” He grinned, raising one of his arms to flex his biceps, but you hurriedly smacked his arm before he could.

“Don’t do that, weirdo.” You wrinkled your nose, and he laughed at that. “What are you doing here? I thought you lived in the city?”

He shrugged. “My friends and I wanted to do something fun this summer, have an adventure, I guess, and I thought it would be a good idea to come spend time down here.” His gaze shifted over to the bonfire, where you assumed these friends he was talking about were hanging out. “What about you? You guys haven’t been down here in forever. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

“My mom wanted to take a girls trip, just the two of us.” You told him.“And since I’m graduating next year, I thought it would be good to have one last adventure before I have to get a real job.”

He nodded slowly, and you watched as he looked you up and down slowly, as if he was taking all of you in. “Cool, cool… So you’re here all summer then?”

“Yeah.” You answered, and began to chew the inside of your cheek. “You?”

“Yeah.” He echoed, and you felt your heart begin to race. An entire three months in the same town as Yeonjun, a boy you hadn’t thought about in half a decade, but a boy who had grown into a very, very attractive man. “We’ll have to hang out sometime. Outside of a party, I mean.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh, sure. If I have the time.” You blink at him, completely aware of how stupid you must sound. But he didn’t seem to mind, instead letting out a little laugh at your comment.

“Well, try to pencil me in your busy schedule, okay?” He smiled at you, a smile that made your heart flutter. Jeez, you couldn’t believe how tremendously down bad you already were, after spending less than ten minutes with him. This definitely wasn’t normal for you.

He started to walk away, as if that was the end of the conversation, but you quickly panicked. “Wait! Do you know where Jisu is? She invited me, and I should probably go and talk to her.”

Graciously, Yeonjun led you down to the party, letting you trail behind him like some kind of lost puppy looking for its owner. Once you were down by the actual fire, the party felt a lot smaller, like there weren’t nearly as many people as you thought. Or maybe it was just because you were so focused on Yeonjun, you barely noticed the other people around you. Either way, your nerves were starting to feel much more at ease than before.

“Ahh! Y/N!” Jisu greeted you once Yeonjun had finally delivered you to your old friend, and she threw her arms around your neck to pull you in for a tight hug. You could smell the cheap beer on her breath, giggling to yourself at how tipsy she already was. “Look, Chaer! It’s Y/N!”

She pulled away from you to let you get a good look at your other old friend, Chaeryeong, who had that same phenomenon of looking completely different yet exactly the same. She greeted you with a hug as well, cooing about how good it was to see you. As she hugged you, you glanced over at Yeonjun, who was watching the whole interaction, and mouthed a silent “thank you”. He gave you a salute before turning and disappearing into the crowd.

“Were you just with Yeonjun?” Jisu asked, eyeing you suspiciously.

“Hm? Oh, yeah, we ran into each other on the way in. I barely even recognized him.” You explained to her, letting out a little laugh as you spoke. You expected her to laugh, too, but instead her suspicious eyes narrowed.

“He’s hot, right?” Chaeryeong giggled, leaning onto your shoulder as though you were the best of friends. Your cheeks heated up at the comment, as you frantically began to shake your head.

“Nononono, that’s not what I meant! It’s just crazy how much people can change in ten years, isn’t it? One day, they’re a little kid throwing sand in your eyes, and the next they’re, like, a mature adult.”

Jisu snorted. “He is not mature. You should have heard him whining yesterday when his friends were making fun of him for liking mint chocolate chip ice creams. He’s more like a baby than a grown adult.” She told you, then took a long sip of her drink. “Anyway, you should be careful around him. My aunt says he’s dated, like, six girls in the last year. He’s a whore.” She said, and Chaeryeong nodded in agreement.

“Mhm! Guys like him, Y/N, they only want one--” she leaned forward and wagged a singular finger in your face. “--one thing!” She warned you, and although you believed her, it was hard to take her seriously with how obviously out of it she was.

“Okay, I think I get it.” You laughed nervously, holding your hands up in defense. “No talking to Yeonjun. I’ll just hang out with you guys instead.”

They seemed to like the sound of that idea, letting out loud cheers and pulling you in for another hug. “It’s so nice to have you back, Y/N! Hey, tomorrow, we should go get snow cones! Just like old times!” Jisu sang. “But, first, let’s get you something to drink!”

THE NEXT MORNING YOU WOKE UP with a throbbing headache. You weren’t sure how much you drank the night before--actually, you weren’t sure of anything from the night before. Your memory was foggy, leaving very little that you could actually recall.

You can remember trying to shotgun one of your cans of beer (you can’t remember if you were actually able to do it or not), and you remember telling Chaeryeong and Jisu all about your first boyfriend, and then you remember being wet. You don’t remember why you were wet, or rather how you got wet, you just remember being wet.

You were barely given any time to adjust to the sunlight that was currently flooding the entirety of your bedroom when your mother was suddenly opening your door, the sound of her voice causing you to groan out in pain.

“Y/N, I need you to pick us up some breakfast.” She told you flatly, and you slammed your pillow down over your own head to try and muffle her.

“Why can’t you?” You asked, dragging out the last vowel. You said a silent prayer that someone would strike her down so she would stop talking to you. But also that they would do it in a quiet way as to spare your already sensitive skull.

“Because, I’m busy. Besides, you can pick yourself up some coffee, it’ll help with your hangover.”

You rolled your eyes. “I am not hungover. It’s just allergies.” You lied, though you weren’t totally sure why you even bothered when you knew that she knew exactly what was wrong with you. “But fine. Give me a few minutes.”

With your surrender, she made a small “hmph” and closed your door, finally leaving you alone. Getting up, going outside, walking around and talking to people was your absolute worst nightmare at the moment, but you knew your mother. If she wanted you to do something, she wouldn’t leave you alone until you did it. She was stubborn, in that way, determined to get exactly what she wanted.

So, despite your body screaming at you to go curl up under your covers and die, you forced yourself off of your bed and pulled on the first clothes you could find--your old Stranger Things t-shirt your cousin had gotten you for your fifteenth birthday, and a pair of sweat shorts. To complete the look, you threw on the singular pair of sunglasses you owned--which were big, red, heart shaped ones. Personally, you thought it was the peak of fashion.

Even under your sunglasses, you were attacked by the outside light when you stepped outside. You half contemplated crawling under the porch to sleep there, since even that would be more bearable than this, but your mother would probably burn you alive if you did that. And as badly as you already wanted to die at the moment, you would prefer it if it wasn’t by your mother’s hand.

And just when it seemed like your morning couldn’t get any worse, it did.

“Y/N?” Oh no.

You were stopped in the middle of the sidewalk by the sound of your name. Reluctantly you turned around, filled with dread when you saw none other than Yeonjun standing behind you, observing you with an amused expression. Now you were praying it was you who would be struck down.

Yeonjun, the man you had once been enemies with, who was now extremely attractive. Yeonjun, who you were not supposed to talk to. That Yeonjun was staring at you, a smile tugging on his lips as he looked you up and down to get a good look at your current state.

“Jeez, how much did you drink last night?” He laughed, and last night you probably would have enjoyed the sound of his laughter, but now it made you want to throw up.

“I don’t know. Too much. My memory is all clouded up, you know.” You responded, raising your hand to protect your eyes from the sun like a visor.

Now that it was daytime, you were finally able to get a good look at him. You already knew he was pretty, after seeing him last night, but you didn’t really get to see how pretty he was. His dark hair was grown out into a mullet, which wasn’t always the best look, but he pulled it off like no other. He was wearing a tank top that let you get a good look at his sun-kissed skin, which was perfectly smooth like he had been airbrushed or something. He looked like how you would have imagined one of the Greek Gods to look like.

And then it hit you. He looked too perfect, especially for a morning after a party. And especially when your friends had basically told you he was the kind of guy to party hard and take a new girl home every weekend. “Why aren’t you dying? I thought you were some kind of party boy now.”

He cocked an eyebrow at that, like he’d never been called that before. “Party boy? Who told you that?”

“Jisu and Chaeryeong.” You shrugged.

He hummed in response, looking a little less amused than before and instead a little bit more annoyed. “You know, you really shouldn’t listen to everything they tell you. Especially when they’re drunk. Chaer likes to lie for fun.” He informed you, though you weren’t all too convinced he was right about that.

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.” And with that, you were just going to leave, since you were way too hungover to even be having this conversation in the first place, but then that led you to think of the cause of your hangover, and the panic that you had done something stupid the night before rammed into you full force. “Um… Did I do anything… Embarrassing last night?”

“If you count convincing yourself you were on fire and running into the water at full speed while screaming at the top of your lungs as embarrassing, then no, you’re good.” A teasing grin appeared on his lips, and you could feel the color drain from your face.

“Oh. So that’s why I remember being wet.” You realized, mentally slapping your forehead over and over again. “God, I think I have no choice but to steal my mom’s car and leave the country. I think that’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard.” You groaned loudly.

“Hey, hey, relax, it really wasn’t that bad. It was kind of cute, honestly.”

You gave him a deadpanned look. “Don’t lie.” Feeling way too embarrassed by that point, you were ready to go back to picking up your breakfast and trying your best to never be seen again, but you could hear him jogging up behind you as you started to walk away.

“Where are you going, anyway? Can I walk with you?” He asked, slowing to a steady pace once he reached your side.

“Um, I’m supposed to pick up waffles for my mom and I. And coffee. She said that I need a coffee.” You informed him. If your head had been hurting you a little less, you might have noticed how close he was to you, and how your fingertips were barely centimeters away from one another. And the realization would have made you nervous. Good thing you were hungover, then.

“What a coincidence! I’m supposed to get coffee, too.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, although he wouldn’t be able to see due to your glasses. “You’re getting coffee, too? What about your friends? Shouldn’t you be out with them, or something?”

“Well, ‘Gyu might be in worse condition than you are, and Wooyoung is still asleep, so I thought I’d go get us some coffee before they wake up.” He explained to you, glancing over at you with that same, stupid smile.

“Aw. You’re so thoughtful.” You cooed at him, to which he playfully rolled his eyes. “Will you get me my coffee, too?”

He shook his head. “Nah, not today. Another day, when you’re not all messed up, I’ll buy you some.”

“Why does it have to be when I’m not messed up?” You queried, faking a dramatic pout.

“Because…” He stopped in front of you, then leaned down so his face was closer to yours--much closer. The proximity made your heart start to hammer against your chest. “It wouldn’t be a very good date if you had a god awful headache the whole time, would it?” He spoke lowly, in a half-teasing, half-sultry tone that made your heart go crazy.

His fingers reached out to gently brush against your skin, the contact setting your skin ablaze, and you thought he would tuck a strand of loose hair behind your ear like some kind of romcom. But, he instead tapped the edge of your sunglasses. “Cute glasses, by the way. They suit you.” He straightened back up, then started walking as if nothing had happened.

You stood, completely dumbfounded as you watched him walk along the sidewalk, beaming with pride because you knew that he knew that he’d already started to have an effect on you, only hours after being reunited. You hated the stupid, cocky smirk he wore on his lips, and you hated the playful raise of his eyebrows as he turned back to look at you with those stupid, perfect eyes you also hated.

“Come on, slow poke. Let’s go get some coffee.”

YOU KNEW IT WAS WRONG, you knew Jisu was going to be upset at you, but you couldn’t help it. For the next week, you could not stop thinking about Yeonjun. You couldn’t stop thinking about how it felt when his face got all close to yours, and how all of his features looked up close. His dark, intimidating yet inviting eyes. His plump, very kissable looking lips. You couldn’t stop thinking about the way his fingertips dragged against your cheek, and the electric feeling of his skin against yours. You had spent an embarrassing amount of time imagining what it would feel like if he brushed his skin against other parts of your body.

It had only taken twenty-four hours for Choi Yeonjun to infect you. You thought it couldn’t get much worse--you were wrong.

Your mom suggested a day of lounging at the beach--pulling up a couple of lounge chairs, an umbrella for shade, and a book for each of you to read. It sounded like a perfect day to you, so you agreed. So long as you got to get some ice cream to cool you down while you were out there, because lord knew it was going to get hot.

“Have you been having a good time?” Your mother asked as you played with the corner of the page you were reading, dragging your attention away from the book. You glanced over at her through your sunglasses (not the heart-shaped ones, after your horrible walk of shame, you bought a new pair), closing your book and resting it on your lap.

“Yeah, I have. It’s nice to be back here, to see everyone again.” You smiled at her, and she smiled as well.

“Good. See? I told you this trip would be good for us.” She told you matter-of-factly, pointing her own book at you for emphasis. “There’s just something about a small town like this, and getting away from everything… It’s rejuvenating.” She let out a long sigh, and you rolled your eyes at her dramatics.

“Well, I guess you could call it that.” You agreed with her. You thought the conversation would end there, and you could go back to reading your book, but she wasn’t ready to stop talking to you yet.

“So, you’ve been hanging out with Jisu and Chaeryeong a lot? It’s nice to see the three of you together, after all these years.”

You nodded. “It is nice. I feel bad for not staying in contact, I feel like we missed out on years of potential friendship.” You confessed. Truthfully, you were already enjoying the last week with the two girls more than the last few years with your other friends. Sure, your friends back home were nice, but you had never clicked with them the same way you were clicking with Jisu and Chaeryeong. You hoped that when you left at the end of the summer, you’d be able to keep up with them unlike in the past.

“Aw.” She clicked her tongue, glancing away from you. “That’s great. We really need to go have dinner with the Chois. You know, I saw Jiwoo--You know, Jisu’s mother--at the store a few days ago--” She was cut off by her phone ringing, and you watched as she picked it up and walked away, saying a silent thank you now you would have some peace and quiet.

At least that’s what you were hoping for. But, of course, that was too much to ask for.

A volleyball bounced across the sand in front of you, and unsurprisingly, it was followed by a group of guys chasing after it. And just your luck, one of the guys happened to be none other than Choi Yeonjun.

You gulped, quickly lifting your book and opening it up in an attempt to hide your face from his view. Since your last run in with him, you had been avoiding him to the best of your ability. Mostly because the more time you spent around him, the more your feelings seemed to grow, and the more guilty you felt.

The first night Jisu had warned you about him, she had been extremely drunk, so you had considered just ignoring her, since there was a chance she didn’t really mean it. But, a day after you’d gotten coffee with him, you had hung out with her and Chaeryeong, and told them all about what happened. She was completely sober when she warned you a second time, telling you she was just looking out for you, so you decided that meant she was serious, and that you wanted absolutely nothing to do with Choi Yeonjun!

“Sorry!” One of them yelled at you, and you barely lowered your book to see it was the one with the shaggy hair. He made eye contact with you, and suddenly his entire demeanor changed. Instead of cowering down, like he was scared you would yell at him, he straightened up, holding the ball under his arm and you swore you saw him flex his muscles.

“It’s fine.” You quipped, praying Yeonjun wouldn’t hear you. Thankfully, he looked too busy cursing out his other friend for throwing the ball out of bounds.

The shaggy haired boy ignored his friends, his eyes remaining on you. “The Summer I Turned Pretty? Is that any good?” He asked, and at first you thought he was spewing nonsense, then you realized he was talking about the book glued to the front of your face.

If you weren’t so worried about his stupid friend noticing you, you might have actually tried to have a conversation with him. He was good looking, and seemed friendly, but you were trying to get them to go away as soon as they could, so you just gave a short nod, hoping he would take the hint and go away.

“Sorry again.” He apologized, flashing you a pearly white grin, and he started to walk away. You let out a soft sigh of relief. You had officially avoided conversation with Yeonjun, and could return to actually reading.

“Oh, hey, Y/N!”

Never mind.

You finally put your book down, since your cover had obviously been blown already. Yeonjun had spotted you, and was flashing you that same, stupid, confident grin you hated (read: loved). You reluctantly raised your hand to wave at him, giving him the best smile you could muster up. “Hi, Yeonjun.” You replied.

“Oh, Y/N! You’re the girl who thought she was on fire! I knew you looked familiar!” The shaggy hair boy announced, your cheeks becoming set ablaze at the realization that was what you were known for now.

“Yes, that was me.” You managed to get out through a pained smile.

“Dude, that was hilarious! I’ve never seen someone more scared for their life over nothing!” Yeonjun’s other friend began to laugh, and you frowned as the other two joined in. Not in the mood for their mockery, you looked down to the pages of your book, trying your hardest to drown out their hyena-like laughter.

Yeonjun noticed your annoyance, and quickly stopped laughing, clearing his throat. “Hey, she’s also one of the greatest sand castle builders in the whole country.” He pointed out to his friends. The compliment that called all the way back to your childhood caused your cheeks to heat up again, but this time it was more out of flattery than embarrassment.

“It’s true. Better than him.” You informed his friends, gesturing towards him with your head.

The shaggy haired one shrugged. “Yeah, I believe it. I’m Beomgyu, by the way.” He approached you, holding out his hand to shake, which you gladly did.

“I’m Wooyoung!” The other friend interrupted, pushing Beomgyu out of the way to have his turn shaking your hand.

Yeonjun was watching his friends smothering you, his eyes narrowed and arms crossed. “Okay, okay, she doesn’t want to know you guys, she doesn’t care.” He told them, rolling his eyes when Beomgyu shook your hand again. “Have you been sick or something? It’s been a week since I saw you.” He changed the subject, much to your dismay.

“No…” You responded.

“Weird. I guess we’ve just been missing each other all week.” He shrugged.

“She’s probably been avoiding you because she can tell you’re a fucking loser.” Wooyoung said matter-of-factly, and Beomgyu laughed in agreement.

Yeonjun rolled his eyes at their immature comments, but chose to ignore them. “I think I still owe you some coffee, you know.” He told you, and bumped the edge of your chair with his food. “Maybe you should give me your number. Then I won’t have to worry about trying to track you down.”

Your eyes widened, and Beomgyu started to cough loudly. You weren’t sure how you were supposed to get out of this one. You could try to lie and say you lost your phone, or give him a fake number, but as soon as he realized it was wrong, he would probably get mad. Maybe he would get so angry he would decide “if I can’t have her, no one can!” and murder you in your sleep. That was probably not going to happen, but you could never be sure these days! Right?

You were frozen in your beach chair, and the longer it took for you to form some kind of a response, the more awkward things were becoming. You began to regret every little decision that had led you to this moment--from you deciding to join your mother for a day at the beach all the way back to letting Yeonjun build that stupid sand castle with you in the first place.

And then, like some kind of miracle sent down from God herself, you were saved. Although, you weren’t sure if you could call it saving, since you had a feeling it was only going to make the entire interaction so much worse.

Appearing out of seemingly nowhere, Jisu and Chaeryeong stood beside your chair, arms folded and eyes narrowed at the boys.

“Oh, hey, Jisu.” Beomgyu was first to break the painfully long silence, and the sound of someone speaking again after so long caught you so off guard you nearly jumped. “And Chaer.”

“Hi.” Jisu greeted, then risked a glance down at you. “What’re you guys up to? I thought you were playing volleyball or something?”

“We were, but then Beomgyu almost hit her with the ball.” Wooyoung explained, gesturing over towards you. Beomgyu rolled his eyes, but made no effort to dispute Wooyoung’s words.

“I thought you were here with your mom?” Jisu asked, recalling your text messages from earlier in the morning.

“Yeah, I was. Am. She just got up to take a call.” You explained, feeling a bit like a little kid getting caught red handed, even though you really hadn’t done anything wrong. “Then Yeonjun and his friends decided to come say hi.”

Jisu nodded slowly.

“Yeah, we were keeping her company while she was alone. Anything can happen to a pretty girl sitting out on the beach alone.” Yeonjun said, and you hated the way your cheeks heated up because of his stupid words.

“Hey!” Jisu was quick to scold. “Stop flirting with my friends, weirdo!” She snapped, jabbing her finger in his face.

He held his hands up in defense, taking a step back to avoid his eyes being poked out by her fingertips. “I wasn’t flirting with her! I was just being honest! She’s a pretty girl!” He attempted to defend himself, but that just seemed to bother Jisu even more.

“Stop it!” She told him again, and Wooyoung began to giggle.

“You look like an angry little chihuahua. So cute.” He teased her, and you thought she might have really smacked him across his amused face if it wasn’t for Chaeryeong putting her hands on her shoulders in an attempt to relax her.

You felt like maybe it was time you stepped in, and stood up, joining Chaeryeong in trying to calm down your friend. “It’s fine, Ji. They’re just stupid boys, ignore them.” You told her, then shot Yeonjun a glare. He tilted his head at you, like he couldn’t figure out why you might be annoyed at him.

Stupid boys indeed.

“Ouch!” Beomgyu gasped at your words, feigning hurt and clinging onto his chest. “Your words hurt Y/N, they really do.”

“Go back to your stupid volleyball and leave us alone.” Jisu groaned, wrapping her hand under your arm to cling onto you. “You guys are so annoying!”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes. “Fine. Can I at least get that phone number before I leave?” Yeonjun asked, a grin creeping onto his perfect lips.

“No!” Chaeryeong and Jisu shot back in unison, making a swatting motion with their hands to tell them to get away. Finally, Wooyoung and Beomgyu began to slowly back away--Beomgyu was still acting like he was bleeding out of his chest or something. Yeonjun lingered, though, letting out a deep exhale.

“What was it that Romeo said? Parting is such sweet sorry’s, or whatever?” He sighed, and placed a hand over his heart. “I’m gonna get that phone number, though. I swear, just wait and see!” And with that, he gave you a wink, then rushed away after his friends before Jisu got the chance to curse him out again.

You stood quietly for a minute, mulling over his words. You felt like there was a not-so-thinly veiled threat hiding in his words. With an uneasy sigh, you glanced over at Jisu, who had her eyebrows furrowed closely, and her lips pressed together into a frown, like she was thinking about his words as well. Chaeryeong’s gaze flickered between the two of you, as she was obviously awaiting some sort of acknowledgment of what happened.

But the acknowledgement never came. Maybe Jisu had finally given up on trying to keep you away from Yeonjun, because she didn’t say anything about it. Instead, she gave you a quick hug, promising that she would see you later, before taking Chaeryeong and disappearing back to whatever they had done before.

You wished she had been more insistent. You wished you had listened to her from the beginning.

FOR WHAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A RELAXING Summer getaway for you and your mother, you sure were having a difficult time destressing. You’d been trying to sleep for at least the last hour, tossing and turning under your sheets. The millions of thoughts running rampant in your mind were what were preventing you from getting any sleep, and no matter how hard you tried, you weren’t able to put any of them to rest. The longer you laid there, feeling absolutely exhausted but unable to shut your mind down long enough to sleep, the worse your annoyance became.

At some point, you’d finally had enough. With a frustrated groan, you threw your bedsheets off of you, and swung your legs over the side of the bed. You sat for a minute, rubbing your eyes in an attempt to get them to accept you weren’t going to sleep, then finally pushed yourself to stand up. You wandered over to the large window at the edge of the bedroom, and slid it open enough you could feel the cool ocean breeze against your face.

Finally, you were beginning to feel that relaxation you’d been longing for. With the air against your skin, and the sound of the waves rolling against the beach out in the distance, you felt your thoughts begin to dissipate. You weren’t thinking about your dad, or Jisu, or your senior year waiting for you back home, or Yeonjun, in fact you weren’t thinking about anything at all. Except, maybe, about how much you wished your bed was closer to the window.

Whack!

You were completely startled when you felt something tiny collide with your cheek, and you let out a quiet curse. Once again, you found yourself annoyed that these windows didn’t have any screens on them to protect you. Cautiously, you poked your head out the window in hopes of finding the source of whatever had hit you.

You apparently weren’t cautious enough, though, as another tiny object hit your face once again. “Ow, what the fuck!” You shouted, reaching up to rub your forehead, and then you spotted it--the source.

Standing on the lawn outside your house, with a handful of what you assumed to be pebbles, was none other than Choi Yeonjun, whose grin quickly turned into a grimace when he noticed you finally see him.

“Shit, did I hit you? I didn’t mean to!” He called up to you in a whisper shout.

You stared down at him, and you swore you could feel your eye twitch as your annoyance doubled. “What the hell are you doing here?” You whisper-shouted back to him, leaning forward so your upper body was now completely hanging out the window.

“You wouldn’t give me your number!” He abandoned the whisper-shout, so now it was just a shout. You quickly shushed him, glancing back at your door and half expecting to see your mother there demanding to know who was yelling outside. Thankfully, she wasn’t. “Just come down here so we can talk!” He attempted to be quiet this time, beckoning for you to go meet him.

You rolled your eyes. Of course, he just had to show up right when you were about to get some much needed sleep. If you were a smart girl, you would have just shooed him away and went back to sleep, but you weren’t. There was something about Choi Yeonjun that made you desperate to hear what he had to say.

So, you let out a defeated huff. Without responding, you leaned back into your room, and picked out what was supposed to be a swimsuit cover to put on over your pajamas. Once you’d tiptoed through the house, careful not to wake your mother, you carefully opened the back door to see Yeonjun still standing in the bushes, calling up to your window like you might still be inside. You laughed softly at the sight, closing the door behind you.

When you stepped into the moonlight, he finally spotted you. “Oh! I didn’t know where you went. I thought you got sick of me and went back to sleep.”

“Mm, I thought about it.” You hummed, folding your arms across your chest in an attempt to keep your coverup from blowing open from the soft ocean breeze. You watched as his eyes drifted down to your outfit, and he lifted an eyebrow.

“Cute pajamas.” He said.

Your face warmed. “Shut up.”

He grinned.

“So, what are you doing here?” You asked, tilting your head at him as you got closer.

“I told you. You didn’t give me your number earlier.” He replied, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes.

“So, you thought you would just show up here in the middle of the night, and I’d just give it to you?”

“Duh. That was how Edward seduced Bella in Twilight.”

“I really don’t think it was.” You laughed. “Also, Edward was a hot vampire who sparkled under the sunlight. You’re not quite on his level.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Ouch? You’re mean, Y/N, really mean.”

“Just to you.” You teased him, surprised at your own flirtiness.

“How can I convince you to give me your number?” He whined. It was funny, a lot about him had changed in the last ten years, but at the same time, he was exactly the same. Annoying, whiny, but also cute.

You eyed him carefully, taking note of how his features seemed to glow under the luminescence of the moon. He may not have been sparkly like Edward Cullen, but you thought he might be more beautiful than the vampire. “Prove it to me.” You said to him.

“Prove what?”

“Prove to me that you’re not just some player, messing with me until you get bored and move onto the next girl.” The words tumbled out of your mouth, words you weren’t sure you were normally brave enough to say. But you did say them, and now your heart was racing, and you hoped you hadn’t said something wrong.

Yeonjun stared back at you, like a deer caught in headlights. “Is that what Jisu told you?” He asked, his voice coming out a bit quiet.

You nodded, tightening the grip your arms held around your stomach. “She and Chaeryeong warned me, basically called you a whore…” Your voice trailed off, the last word basically a whisper.

He said nothing for a minute, just continuing to stare back at you like you’d just dropped a huge bomb on him, then burst into laughter. “You date a few girls and suddenly you’re a whore… Sounds about right.”

Now it was your turn to stare back at him, eyebrows furrowed as you waited for some kind of explanation. Finally, his eyes met your own confused ones, and his laughter dwindled.

“Sorry. Look, I don’t know what Jisu told you, but it’s not true. I’m not some—some fuckboy that jumps from girl to girl.” He laughs nervously and runs a hand through his dark hair.

“Then it shouldn’t be hard to prove it to me.” You replied, and once again, the air went quiet.

Maybe you had been too bold. Maybe he really was just some player, looking to get a quick fix and move on, and you’d completely turned him off. It wouldn’t be the worst thing, if you had, since it would save you the hurt. On the other hand, the idea that he had set his sights on you when he first saw you at the bonfire just to hook up with you and drop you stung more than you liked to admit.

The soft breeze that rolled in with the sea tousled its way through his hair, a few stray strands falling in front of the dark eyes that bored into your own. You thought he was just going to stand there forever, and never utter a single word to you, but then, to your surprise, there was movement.

Before you had the chance to react, he was towering over you, and his fingers had hooked themselves under your chin to force you to look up at him. The moonlight reflecting off the back of his head caused him to look like he was glowing.

“Y/N.” The drop in his tone sent goosebumps down your back.

“Yeah?” You answered in the loudest voice you could conjure, which was barely a squeak.

His eyes flickered between your own, like he was searching for something inside of them. “You’re not just some… Game to me. I want to get to know you. I want to take you on dates…” He leaned forward, so close you could feel his breath fan against the shell of your ear. “I want to kiss you.”

A shaky breath fell from your lips, and you were sure he could hear it. You wanted to kiss him, too. So badly that you wanted to cup the back of his neck and crash your mouth onto his right then and there. You upheld some restraint, though, keeping your arms pinned to your side.

He pulled away from you, a sly smirk appearing on his lips that were very kissable, by the way. “Not now, though. If you give me your number, we’ll plan a date, and you can let me prove it to you, okay?”

It was like you were under some kind of spell, and the man glowing under the moonlight in front of you was some sort of sorcerer. You nodded dumbly.

You caved in. You gave him your number. Then, he kissed your cheek, and bid you goodnight. Still in a daze, you watched as he disappeared into the night, leaving you alone in the sand with only the soft sounds of the waves rolling against the beach to keep you company.

That was your first mistake.

YEONJUN WASTED NO TIME IN texting you the following morning. You were just finishing eating some waffles with your mom when you heard your phone buzz against the table, and picked it up to see a text message from an unknown number.

hey ;-)

It didn’t take a genius to know who that text had come from.

When you saw the message, a giddy feeling overcame you, and before you knew it, you were releasing the most heinous giggle you had ever let out in your life. Your mom had given you an incredulous look when the noise slipped through your lips, and you gave her a quick shrug as an apology.

You snuck off to your bedroom, collapsing onto the mattress stomach first. You looked like a girl straight out of some Disney Channel romcom, legs kicked up in the air behind you and your lip tucked between your teeth as you tried to bite back an embarrassingly wide smile.

After Yeonjun left, you had barely gotten any sleep. All you could do was replay that moment over and over again, the way his warm breath felt against your skin, the low vibration of his voice so close to your ear, as he told you he wanted to kiss you… It sent shivers down your spine every time you thought about it, without fail. So, it was safe to say you had been anticipating his text message for hours.

You finally typed up a response, hitting the send button then anxiously staring back at your screen as you awaited a response. Like most phones due, the screen dimmed after about ten seconds of nothing happening, and you let out a defeated huff. Right as you were going to give up, and let it turn itself off, the screen brightened again, as a thought bubble appeared at the bottom of the screen.

wanna grab lunch today? a little birdy told me ur a big fan of jakes

You were no longer able to bite back the smile. The grin spread across your lips as you texted back a yes.

There was no point in driving from the house you stayed in over to Jake’s, since it was only about a ten minute walk, so you assumed you would just be meeting Yeonjun there. About fifteen minutes before you’re supposed to meet, though, you walk out the front door and are surprised to see the man of the hour standing on your porch, back leaning against one of the columns and phone in his hands that kept him from noticing your presence right away.

He was wearing the most casual clothes you could imagine—a soft blue button up shirt and some shorts, but he still looked like he walked off the set of some modeling shoot. He still hadn’t noticed you, yet, typing away on his phone. Or maybe he had, and was teasing you.

You cleared your throat, which was apparently enough to grab his attention as his head snapped up. “Oh, hey. I was just about to text you.” He grinned at you, and you tried to ignore the way his voice made your stomach churn.

“What are you doing here? I thought we were going to meet there?” You asked bluntly.

“I told you I would walk you there, didn’t I?” He tilted his head at you, and you shook your head. “Oh. Oops. Well, I’m walking you there.” He smiled, and pushed himself off of the column.

You shook your head. “You didn’t have to do that.” You told him, as you started to descend the porch stairs.

“I know. That’s what makes it so charming, isn’t it?” He hummed, following behind you. “You look nice, by the way. I like your dress.”

The compliment slipped from him so casually, your face immediately felt hot. Your gaze drifted down to the little sun dress you had spent so long picking out, and now you were glad you had. “Thanks. You look nice, too.” You muttered.

“What did you say?” He used his long legs to advantage, catching right up next to you so he could lean down close. He wasn’t nearly as close to you as he had been the night before, but it still flustered you, nonetheless.

“I said, your shoes are goofy.” You responded, pointing down to the Crocs he was wearing.

He gasped. “You don’t rock with the crocs?”

“Ew. If you say that ever again, I’m going to go home and block your number.” You laughed, your nose scrunched up in disgust.

“You wouldn’t do that. You and I both know you can’t resist my charm.” He spoke confidently, basically puffing out his chest.

You rolled your eyes at him, but you couldn’t help a small giggle.

The two of you kept up the casual conversation on your venture to the diner, and you were surprised by how easy it was to talk to him. Even though you felt beyond nervous, the words fell smoothly from your lips, and by the time the two of you were situated in a booth inside Jake’s, you could feel the nerves melting away.

It didn’t take long for them to resurface, though. Once your food was ordered, you were sitting directly across from him, and it was becoming harder and harder to avoid his intense gaze. Yeonjun was much more confident than you, his eyes locked onto yours, while your own eyes darted around to avoid him.

The waiter brought over your drinks, and you noticed as he lowered onto the table that his nametag read Jake.

“Jake? Did you start working here because your name is Jake, or is your name Jake because you work here?” You asked him.

He smiled at you, and you thought he had a nice smile. “It’s funny, actually. My parents opened the place up before I was born, and called it Jake’s. Then, I was born, and they thought, ‘you know what would be a good name for our son? The name of our restaurant.’ Awful, right?” He asked you, and you giggled.

“A really, really sad story.” Yeonjun pretended to pout, then his expression morphed into a nasty glare. Jake looked uneasy, giving you a small nod before returning to the kitchen. You frowned as you looked back at Yeonjun.

“What the hell was that?”

“He was totally flirting with you.” Yeonjun grumbled, tucking his straw between his lips.

“He was not. He was just being nice.” You rolled your eyes, and Yeonjun quirked his eyebrows up in response, like he was saying whatever, but he didn’t say anything else about the subject.

He cleared his throat. “So, you’re in college, right?”

You nod.

“You’ve gotta be graduating soon, I’m guessing? What’s your major?” He asked you, leaning back in his seat comfortably.

“Environmental science.” You replied with a shrug. “What about you? Are you in school?”

He winced at the question. “Nah. I tried it, after I graduated high school, but it just… It wasn’t for me.” He said, rubbing his arm.

“I get that. It sucks, I honestly don’t know how I made it this far.” You laughed. “If you’re not in school, then what have you been up to?”

His cheeks started to redden. “Uh, I work at a phone store…”

You could tell he was hiding something else. “That’s it?” You tried to encourage him to keep going.

“No… Promise you won’t laugh…”

“I promise.” You leaned forward, becoming intrigued.

He pulled his lips into a tight line, before letting out a deep breath. “Okay, I post dance covers online. I’m trying to get scouted.” He confessed, and for the first time since you’d come on this trip, it looked like he was the nervous one.

Before you could stop yourself, you let out a laugh.

“You just said you wouldn’t laugh!” He shouted at you accusingly, and you quickly shook your head.

“No, no, I’m not laughing at the dance! I just thought it was funny that you were acting all shy about it!” You jumped to exclaim, your hands instinctively darting out to hold his wrists. “I think it’s really cool!”

He eyed you suspiciously, before his gaze lowered to your hands. You pulled them away, afraid you were making him uncomfortable, but he grabbed ahold of one of them before it got too far.

You flushed. “So, you dance? How long have you been doing that?” You grabbed your drink to take a big gulp, suddenly feeling very hot.

He hummed in thought, his cool demeanor quickly making a reappearance. “I think I started when I was 12? I’m not sure. I’ve been doing it so long, it’s hard to keep track.” He told you, dark eyes trained on your hands. “In college--the one year I was there--I was a part of the school’s dance team. But, something happened, and I decided it wasn’t for me.”

“What happened?”

“You don’t want to hear about all of that. Trust me, it’ll bore you.” He gave you a reassuring smile, and you didn’t want to push him to talk about it, instead just giving him a short nod. “So, graduating next year, huh? Is that why you decided to come visit for the Summer?”

Not exactly, you thought to yourself, but you weren’t exactly ready to drop all the gritty details about the last few months of your life, and your parents’ messy divorce onto him. Instead, you settled on a “yep”, and took another sip of your drink.

That was how most of the rest of your lunch went. Discussing the little details of your lives with one another, but purposefully leaving out the stuff he didn’t really need to know about. When Jake came back to give you your food, Yeonjun once again glared at him as though he could ignite him with his eyes if he tried hard enough, even though he hadn’t done anything wrong that you could think of. You wondered if they knew each other and had some past drama with one another, or maybe he was just incredibly jealous.

Throughout the date, you hadn’t been able to decide why Jisu had been so adamant about warning you to stay away from Yeonjun. Sure, maybe at first you got a bit of those vibes from him, but it didn’t take much conversation to prove he was more than all of that. He was genuinely sweet, and you could feel he really cared about you. You challenged him to prove himself to you, and he was already winning the challenge.

He walked you back to your house, his hand brushing dangerously close against yours the whole way. You wished he would just grab it and hold onto it the way he did back at the restaurant. He didn’t, though. Instead he kept teasing you, bumping his fingers a giant your own, and acting as though he was oblivious to the contact.

“Thank you for lunch.” You told him once the two of you had made it back to your porch, where you knew your mother was spectating from one of the windows.

“Thanks for coming with me.” He smiled down at you, and of course, his charming smile made your stomach flutter.

The two of you stood awkwardly, neither quite sure what to say, but what you were sure of was neither of you were ready to say goodbye yet.

“So? Have I proved myself to you yet?” He asked.

You hummed in response, knowing your answer was without a doubt yes, but you weren’t ready to tell him that. “I’m not sure. I think it’s going to take a few more burgers. Maybe a milkshake…”

He laughed. “Oh really?” He raised an eyebrow, and you nodded. “Okay. I’ll buy you as many burgers as my phone store salary can afford.”

“And a milkshake?”

“And a milkshake.” He suddenly reached out and tapped his finger against your nose, startling you to the point you jumped at the touch. He giggled at your reaction.

The familiar tune of an Ariana Grande song started playing, and you watched with furrowed brows as he dug his phone out of his pocket. He glanced at you with a knowing look before answering the call.

You watched as he talked on the phone, presumably to Beomgyu or Wooyoung, once again finding yourself admiring his beauty. You could look at Yeonjun a million times, and never get over how gorgeous he was. In your twenty-one years on Earth, you’d never wanted to kiss someone so bad. A part of you thought maybe he would do it now, on your doorstep, but you also knew it wasn’t time. Besides, you didn’t want to share your first kiss with him in broad daylight where your mother was watching.

“You’re such an idiot, Beomgyu… Alright, alright! I’m on my way!” He hung up the phone, a frustrated groan escaping from his mouth. “I’m sorry, Y/N, my friends are idiots who apparently don’t know how to make ramen in the microwave.” He rolled his eyes.

“It’s okay. I’ve had stupid friends, too, I understand.” You smiled at him, reaching out to pat his arm comfortingly.

Just like the night before, he bent down to kiss your cheek, and just like the night before, you were desperate for more. “Okay. I’ll text you later, alright?”

“Yeah. Later.”

YEONJUN DID NOT TEXT YOU BACK LATER. When your mother dragged you out to the beach again, you kept your phone close to you, nearly falling out of your beach chair every time it buzzed. But, never did one of the buzzes belong to the person you were most waiting for.

When you and your mother visited a local barbecue restaurant for dinner, you turned your phone off completely, hoping that pretending to be uninterested would make the text come faster. About halfway through eating, though, you excused yourself to the bathroom and powered your phone back up, waiting for the text to come through.

It didn’t.

When you couldn’t sleep, once again, you crept over to your window and half hoped he would be down there, and throw a pebble at you again. At first, you thought you saw him standing in the beach grass, but it was just an old fence post. No matter how hard you tried to will it, he wasn’t coming, and he wasn’t going to text you.

You’d given up all hope by the time you woke up, and there was no message. Honestly, you were prepared to sit around all day and feel dejected, but thank god for Choi Jisu and Lee Chaeryeong. Apparently, there was going to be a big party that night, and they wanted the three of you to go together. And, lucky for you, a party was the perfect way to get Choi Yeonjun out of your head.

“So, you got lunch with Yeonjun yesterday?” Jisu asked you, the question causing you to flinch and nearly stab your own ear with your earring. You were all currently in Jisu’s room, getting ready for the big party.

“How did you know about that?” You slowly glanced over at her, slipping the earring through your piercing.

Jisu shrugged. “It’s a small town, Y/N. Word travels fast.” She paused, looking over at Chaeryeong. “Plus, Chaer’s boyfriend works at Jake's.”

“He’s not my boyfriend!” Chaeryeong immediately exploded, and Jisu rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, sure he’s not. But, he said he saw Yeonjun come in with a girl, but he didn’t know her name, so we put two and two together.” Jisu explained.

“Oh. Well, yeah, I did… Are you mad?” You meekly asked, shifting your gaze towards her to gauge her reaction.

Jisu froze for a moment, a finger pressed against her lips as though she was deep in thought. “Hmm… No. I’m not mad.” She decided after a minute. “If you really, fully believe that he’s not playing you, then I’m happy for you. He’s a good guy, just really, really, really deep down.”

Chaeryeong giggled, and you frowned. “Thank you, Jisu. Really. Although, you might be right…”

“What?! What happened? I’ll kill him!” Jisu exclaimed, flipping around to face you.

“Nothing! It’s just… He told me he was going to text me yesterday, after our lunch, and he never did.” You averted her gaze, realizing how stupid it all sounded the minute the words left your mouth. The two of you had barely been apart for 24 hours, it was normal for him not to text you, right? You probably sounded insane and boy-crazy.

Your friends didn’t think so, though.

“What?! He’s such an ass! The least you can do after harassing a girl for her number is text her!” Chaeryeong’s outburst instantly made you feel much better about your insecurities.

“What a loser. See, Y/N, I told you!” Jisu pointed at you scoldingly as she made her way over to her vanity.

“But that doesn’t mean he’s a player, right? We haven’t even kissed. If he was just messing with me, he would have at least tried to have gotten something before he ghosted me, right?” You started rambling, the fear that you really had been played overcoming you.

Chaeryeong shrugged. “Maybe he’s a different kind of whore. Maybe he just wants emotional attention, not physical stuff.” She suggested, which made you feel even worse.

Jisu must have noticed you starting to freak out, as she let out a sigh and returned to be by your side. “Hey. He’s probably just an idiot who forgot. That doesn’t make him a fuckboy, it just makes him stupid. But if he is purposefully ghosting you, then he’s even more of an idiot, and you should just forget about him.” She rubbed your shoulder, and gave you a soft smile through the mirror you stood in front of.

“Either way, he’s stupid.” Chaeryeong pointed out, and the three of you started nodding in affirmation.

With all of that in mind, the three of you finished getting ready, and headed over to the party. You weren’t sure if Yeonjun was going to be there, but you hoped he was. Jisu and Chaeryeong had helped you pick out the perfect floral top, and a cute little skirt to go with it. You could confidently say that you looked good. A smaller part of you hoped he wasn’t there, though, because you deserved at least one night to yourself without thinking of him.

The party, you discovered, was being hosted by none other than Jake, the waiter you had met the day before. Apparently, his parents always took a trip for one week in the Summer, and on the Saturday of that week, he always threw a huge party. It had become a tradition. And, more importantly, the Sim family owned a huge house right on the beach, which made it the perfect spot to party.

“Wow. So, Jake’s family is rich.” You breathed out once you all made it to the destination. You thought they had been over exaggerating about the estate, but they were rather under exaggerating.

“Yep. Aside from the diner, Jake’s dad owns tons of real estate in the area. The burger shop is more of a hobby for him.” Chaeryeong explained to you, looking over with a big smile.

You nodded in understanding, shifting your gaze back over to take in the size of the house once again.

“Chaeryeong!” The three of you craned your necks in unison to see a guy you recognized from the diner approaching your little group. “I’m glad you made it. Save me a dance?” He grinned down at her, and though it was dark outside, you swore you could see your friend start to blush.

It was cute, you hadn’t really seen her get so shy before. You assumed he must have been her “boyfriend” from the diner Jisu was talking about. “In your dreams, Seungmin.” She replied, her hand coming up to push against his shoulder.

Seungmin laughed, then looked over to you and Jisu. “Hey, Ji. And hey…?”

“Y/N.” You filled in, giving him a polite smile.

“Ahh, so you’re Y/N. Chaeryeong was telling me about you.” He said with a nod, and you shot Chaeryeong a questioning glance.

“Good things, I swear.” She was quick to reassure you, then shot Seungmin a glare.

“Yep! Good things only! Like how you were so drunk you thought you had caught on fire.”

“Chaer!” You scolded your friend as Jisu and Seungmin started to laugh together. She shrugged in response, giving you a weak smile.

“I’m sorry, Y/N! It was just a funny story, you have to admit!” She giggled, and you rolled your eyes. “Come on, I know what will cheer you up!”

You huffed, slumping your shoulders dramatically as you followed her, Jisu and Seungmin inside. You were surprised by how many people had turned up to the party, you didn’t even know that many people lived in the little beach town. Though, you supposed some of them might have been vacationing there, the same as you.

Your friends led you back to the drinks—aka the back porch, where a keg had been set up as well as a table filled with all sorts of stuff. You were nearly kicked in the face as a girl swung her legs into the air to do a handstand on the keg, and a small group of people started to cheer loudly for her. You wove your way in and out of the small crowd, and over towards the table to get a drink.

“Here. Let me make you all the Jisulada.” Jisu announced, grabbing four plastic cups and placing them in a line in front of her. You watched as she began to combine random ingredients into the cups, and you could feel your stomach churn at the sight.

“There’s no real recipe. She just adds random shit every time.” Seungmin leaned down to inform you, and you laughed as you watched her pump random bottles of syrup.

“And yet, somehow it’s always delicious.” Chaeryeong watched Jisu with furrowed eyebrows, complexed as to how all the ingredients could turn out good.

Jisu handed you each a cup. “Cheers!”

You all bumped your plastic cups against each other, then took a sip. Chaeryeong was right, the drink was actually pretty good. It was too bad Jisu made it up on the spot, and probably wouldn’t be able to teach it to you.

Once you had your drinks, Seungmin and Chaeryeong split off to go talk alone, leaving just you and Jisu. You two wandered back into the house, finding an empty patch of wall to lean against that was just far enough from the speaker you could hear each other talk.

Just as you were finishing the last sip of your drink, you finally saw him. He was just wearing a dark blue button up shirt and a pair of shorts, but just like everything else he wore, he managed to make it look like high fashion. He was with Beomgyu and Wooyoung, as expected, arriving fashionably late. And it was a good thing he did, since he managed to capture the attention of everyone at the party.

You watched him with hopeful eyes as he walked through the room, waiting for him to look in your direction and come talk to you, but he never did. Next thing you knew, he was gone just as quickly as he arrived. You swore you could feel your eye twitch.

“Y/N…” Jisu started, as though she could read your mind.

“It’s fine.” You waved her off, tilting your cup as much as you could to get every last drop of the drink. “Can you make me another Jisucolada?”

“Jisulada.” She corrected.

“Yeah, one of those.” You grumbled, and Jisu frowned.

“How about we go do some dancing instead?” She suggested, pulling your hands into her own. “We’re here to have fun, right? Not to think about my stupid cousin.”

You sighed. “I guess you’re right. And, they’re playing a really good song right now.”

Jisu grinned, and started shaking your hands. “That’s the spirit! Come on, let’s dance!” Before you got the chance to change your mind, she dragged you out into the sea of people, and gave you no choice but to dance with her.

As you jumped around to the beat of the music, you could feel the effects of her Jisulada starting to kick in. Your head was starting to feel fuzzy, and you were fighting the urge to giggle at every little thing going on around you. When you thought about Yeonjun, you wanted to giggle. When you thought about Chaeryeong and Seungmin and felt the need to giggle. When you thought of your mom, all alone at the house with a book and a bottle of wine to keep her company, since your stupid dad had to abandon you guys, you couldn’t fight it anymore and started to giggle.

You weren’t sure what Jisu had thrown into the drink, but it was working wonders for you.

A finger touched your shoulder and you spun around, prepared to punch someone in the face. You relaxed, though, when you were met with the familiar smile of Jake the waiter.

“Oh my god, Jake! You gave me a heart attack!” You exclaimed, and once again started to laugh.

“Sorry. Y/N, right?” He managed to ask over the loud music, and you nodded. “I didn’t know you were friends with Jisu.”

“Yep! BFFs from childhood.” You told him, slowing down your jumping so you could properly talk to him. Jisu, however, kept dancing, seeming to completely ignore the conversation.

Jake nodded in understanding. “You used to live here?”

“No. My family used to come every summer.” You responded. “And then we stopped, because… Actually, I don’t know why we stopped. But my mom and I decided to come back.” You giggled again, and watched as he chuckled down at you.

“Cool, cool. So you’re here all summer?”

“‘Til August 27th!” You sang.

“Well, from now on, if you come into the diner while I’m working, I’ll start giving you a discount.”

You gasped. “Really? You’d do that?” You looked at him with wide eyes, and he nodded. “Good, because I love those burgers. Damn, now that I think about it, I could really go for a burger right now.” You realized, your hand falling to your stomach as your mind wandered off to the thought of stuffing a burger in your mouth.

“Hey, tell you what, you stick around another hour, we can ditch this party early and go get one.” He nudged you, and you thought you were going to explode from excitement.

“Oh my gosh, that would be so awesome. A post-party burger sounds amazing.”

“Hi, Y/N.” A familiar voice greeted you from behind, and you felt the color drain from your face. You slowly turned to see the man you both most wanted to see and least wanted to see standing behind you, and he didn’t look too happy. You didn’t feel much like giggling anymore.

Jake let out a nervous laugh. “Uh, I’ll talk to you later, Y/N.”

“No you won’t.” Yeonjun rolled his eyes, and Jake gave him one last glare before slipping into the crowd. You glanced to your side, hoping to find Jisu still dancing beside you, but she had disappeared as well, leaving you alone with Yeonjun.

He wasted no time in grabbing ahold of your wrist, and dragging you out of the crowd of dancing people. “What the fuck are you doing?!” You shouted over the music, and although you were pissed he just forced you to leave, you weren’t exactly fighting him. He didn’t respond, though, just kept walking with his eyes narrowed and hand held tightly around your wrist.

Once he got you outside, though, he led you down to the side of the house, and finally decided to talk. He dropped your arm, turning to face you with a burning expression. “What are you doing here, Y/N?”

“Um, partying? The same as everyone else.”

“No, I mean here. At fucking Jake’s party.” He spat.

Your expression turned cold. “What? Am I not supposed to be? You’re also here, aren’t you?” You snapped at him. He pressed his lips together tightly. “You don’t get to fucking ignore me for a whole day then act like a big, jealous baby, Yeonjun.”

“I wasn’t ignoring you.” He groaned in frustration, reaching up to run a hand through his silky hair. “It’s complicated, Y/N, you don’t get it.”

“Then make it uncomplicated!” You shouted into his face. “You told me you were serious about wanting to get to know me, and you weren’t just playing with me, but it sure as hell doesn’t feel that way.”

He rolled his eyes at you, and you couldn’t help but scoff. “You’re the one flirting with another guy out in the open for everyone to see.” He pointed out, his finger following suit.

“Oh my god, I was not flirting with him!” You explained in exasperation, leaning back against the side of the house. You couldn’t believe how ridiculous he was acting, but you were pretty sure the smell of alcohol wafting off of him had something to do with it. “Besides, even if I was, it doesn’t matter. Because we are not dating. We went on one date, and you didn’t text me back when you said you would, and you didn’t even kiss me--”

“Is that what you want? You want me to kiss you?” He raised both of his eyebrows at you, as if you were asking for something so stupid.

“Yes!” You didn’t mean to sound so desperate, like you were begging for it, but you couldn’t help it. For days, all you had been able to think about was what it would feel like to have his lips on your own, to run your fingers through those locks of his, and to have your body pressed flush against his own. So, yeah, no matter how badly you wanted to hide it, you couldn’t deny just how desperate you were.

He froze for a moment, then stalked over towards you. Your heart started to hammer against your chest in anticipation when one of his hands slid past your face to prop him up against the wall, caging you beneath him. The other cupped your cheek, and he leaned down so close that your noses bumped against each other. “Tell me again, Y/N. Tell me what you want.” You felt his breath fan against your lips, and even though you were supposed to be mad at him--you were supposed to be pissed--you could feel yourself crumbling.

“I want you to kiss me.” You whispered, blinking up at him through your eyelashes.

His eyes searched your own, his breath seemingly caught in the back of his throat. It looked like he was having some sort of internal battle with himself, on whether or not he should kiss you. God, if he left you hanging again, you were going to knee him right between his legs before he got the chance. “Fuck it.” He breathed out, then (finally) smashed his lips against your own.

There was an urgency in the way he kissed you, his grip on your cheek tightening and his lips rough against yours, like he was going to starve to death if he didn’t get a taste of you. There was just as much desperation on your end, though, as one of your hands crawled up his shoulder and the other began to entangle itself in the hair that fell right at the back of his neck.

Just as you had predicted, kissing him was electrifying. Every inch of your skin his fingers came into contact with felt like it was being lit ablaze. You were perfectly in sync with him, and your lips melded together as though they had been made for the other. You had kissed people before, but nothing had ever come close to this.

He pushed you so you were pressed flush against the wall, and the hand that had been propping himself up before found a new home on your waist. You clung to him tightly, and if you pulled him any closer against yourself, you were sure your bodies would melt into one another. Still, you raised one of your legs and wrapped your leg around his hip, and you felt him grunt against your lips at the contact.

After what felt like an eternity, he pulled away from the kiss, briefly pausing to look down at you. His lips were puffy, his eyes were heavy with lust, and he looked absolutely gorgeous. He leaned back down, only to attach his lips to your neck this time. Your breathing grew deeper as he peppered your skin with kisses, and an occasional nip with his teeth.

“I’m sorry. For not texting you.” He breathed against your skin between kisses.

You weren’t totally sure if you forgave him or not, yet, but your lips moved faster than your brain did. “It’s okay.” You replied breathlessly, and bit your lip to hold back any noises when his mouth found a particularly sensitive spot.

He leaned up and away from your neck, so his face was in line with your own again. “Don’t talk to Jake anymore, okay?” He asked, and you immediately nodded. He smiled, and dove back in to connect your lips for one more kiss. “You’re mine.” He whispered against your mouth, and once again, you caught yourself nodding fervently.

“You’re all mine.”

YOU STARTED SEEING YEONJUN MORE REGULARLY AFTER THE PARTY. In the deep hours of the night, he would appear outside your bedroom window, trying to throw pebbles at your window and missing every one. One night, he even attempted to crawl up the trellis lining the side of the house, but a piece broke off and he fell before he got the chance. You would usually end up sitting on the porch swing on the backside of your house, talking and… Kissing.

You hated yourself for ever letting Jisu get into your head. Yeonjun had proved to you over and over again that he was interested in you for more than just hooking up, that he had genuine feelings for you. It made the realization that the summer would end in two months, and you would be going back to the city, sting. So, you decided not to think about it. Which was easy, because when you were with Yeonjun, he was just about all you could think about.

“Did you tell your mom I broke the trellis?” He asked you a few nights after he’d tried to scale the side of the house, a grin playing on his perfect lips.

You giggled, shaking your head. The two of you were sitting opposite of each other, out on the swing. “No. I told her I didn’t know anything about it. Must have been a wild animal.” You told him, and he laughed at that.

“Okay, good. It’s bad enough that you witnessed that, I don’t need anybody else knowing about it.” He said, reaching up to rub the back of your neck.

“Oh. Well, I definitely didn’t tell Jisu and Chaer about it, then.”

He paled. “Y/N! Now Jisu’s gonna tell her mom and she’s gonna tell my mom! They’re all gonna bully the shit out of me!” He whined, leaning forward to lightly hit your knee.

“Maybe you deserve it.” You shrugged, and broke into a smile when he looked at you with the saddest look he could muster up. “Aw, you poor baby. I’m joking, I didn’t tell them…” You leaned forward, putting your lips close to his ear. “That can stay between us.”

When you started to pull away, he caught the nape of your neck in his hand, looking at you with one of his eyebrows cocked up. “You promise?” He asked, using his other hand to hold up a pinky.

You were immediately flustered by the proximity. You could feel your face getting hot, and your heartbeat in your ears as your wide eyes darted down to look at his pinky. Slowly, you lifted up your own, looping it together with his. “I promise.” The words came out barely above a whisper, and a thick silence filled the air.

For a second, you thought he was going to kiss you, as he leaned forward close enough to brush his nose against yours. But, then he pulled away, a smirk finding its way onto his lips as he observed your reaction.

“You’re cute.” He said, unlacing his pinky from your own so he could poke the tip of your nose. He let go of you, leaning back against the arms of the bench to laugh at you.

You frowned, then smacked his chest. “Shut up! I hate you so much!” Now you were the one whining, all the while he kept giggling at your reaction.

“Come on, we all know that’s not true.” He said matter-of-factly, sitting back up so his face was closer to you again.

“It is. I seriously hate you, Choi Yeonjun.” You replied, folding your arms across your chest.

He tilted his head, and gently laced his hand through one of yours. He pulled it away from your chest, then rose it up to his lips. “Do you hate me when I do this?” He asked, then placed a kiss against your knuckles.

You turned your head away. “Yes.” You said defiantly.

You could feel the swing shift as he scooted closer to you, and this time he kissed your cheek. “Do you hate me when I do this?”

You nodded, keeping your head turned away from him. “Yep.”

His breath was hot against your jaw when he pressed his lips there next, asking the question again. Only this time, you were starting to get so hot and bothered, you barely heard him ask. You just nodded quickly, swallowing hard.

Finally, two of his fingers pressed against the other side of your jaw, and gently turned you to look at him. “What about…” He leaned forward, touching his nose against your own just like he had done a minute earlier. “When I do…” His breath fanned against your lips, and you couldn’t take it anymore. “Thi-”

You cut him off by taking charge, capturing his lips in a heated kiss. Honestly, from the minute you first heard him trying to throw pebbles at your window, you had been dying to kiss him. Really, kissing Yeonjun was one of the only things on your mind since Jake’s party. The feeling of lips on yours like a drug, and you were past the point of calling yourself addicted.

He must have been wanting it just as bad as you, as he wasted no time slipping his hands onto your waist and pulling you onto his lap. Your hands rested on his shoulders, steadying yourself as the swing started to gently sway from all the movement. His fingers sliding under your t-shirt and finding home on the skin of your waist feel like tiny little wildfires lighting every inch they brush over ablaze.

You felt like you were going crazy, like you were some kind of feral animal that found its next meal. All you could think about was how you wanted—no, needed—more of him. It was like your body had gone into autopilot, as your fingers moved from his shoulders down to the hem of his shirt, which you found yourself toying with.

He paused for a minute, pulling back from the kiss to look at you. His lips were swollen from your kisses, and his dark hair was disheveled, his bangs falling in the way of his eyes. Yeonjun always looked good, that wasn’t up for debate. But, it was nothing compared to how he looked right now. Right now, the only word that came to mind to describe him was perfect.

He dove back into your lips, and you were starting to have a difficult time keeping up with him. If you had to guess, Yeonjun was a lot more experienced than you. Sure, you’d had a few make out sessions in your life, but never enough to consider yourself an expert, and you’d never done anything further than that. His mouth moved with such expertise, his tongue prodding against your lips to let you in, you were starting to feel a bit overwhelmed.

When his hand slipped up under your shirt, that’s when you knew you were in trouble. As much as you were enjoying it, you forced yourself to pull away from him. He quickly retracted his hand, gazing up at you with furrowed brows.

“Sorry, I—, I think we should slow down for just a minute.” You breathed out, letting a nervous laugh slip past your swollen lips.

He nodded. “Yeah, okay. Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything—“

“‘—No! That’s not it!” You cut him off, tightening your grip on his shoulders. “It’s just… I’m not very… Experienced in this stuff…” I’m scared, you thought, but you didn’t dare tell him that out loud.

“I understand, don’t worry about it.” He leaned forward and gave you a gentle peck that made your heart swell. “So… Are you…?”

Your face grew hot. You nodded in response, too embarrassed to say the words yes, I’m a virgin out loud. You were about to graduate college in the next year, and you were still a virgin. Everyone always told you it was nothing to be ashamed of, but you still couldn’t help being a bit embarrassed when the subject came up.

“Oh, okay. Well, don’t be afraid to tell me if you don’t want to do something. I want you to be comfortable no matter what, okay?” He stared you dead in the eyes, like he was looking for any sign of hesitation.

You tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear as you nodded in understanding. “Okay.” You said quietly, and he smiled at your answer. You couldn’t believe how sweet he was being about the whole thing. Surely he had to have some sort of flaw, right?

With that, he leaned in to kiss you just one more time, only this time it was a lot more gentle and intimate than your previous kisses. It was the kind of kiss that gave you butterflies, the kind of kiss that made you realize you might be falling in love with him.

Oh, god. You were falling in love with Choi Yeonjun.

ONE THING ABOUT JISU WAS SHE LOVED PLANNING PARTIES. So, when her friend Keena’s twentieth birthday rolled around, she practically leapt at the opportunity to plan something. You hardly knew Keena, you’d only met her a few times through Jisu, but your friend insisted you come to the party anyway. According to her, it was going to be a huge party, and everyone was going to be there anyway, so it wasn’t going to be weird!

It had been about a week since your revelation. You were falling in love with Yeonjun, and you were falling in love fast. The realization terrified you.

The only time you’d seen love had been with your parents, until you found out they weren’t as in love as you previously thought, since your dad had been hooking up with your housekeeper. He might not have loved your mother anymore, but you knew she still loved him. You saw it in the way she was still fighting to get over him, even now.

The thought of falling in love, and having to experience the same heartbreak you watched your mom go through for the last few months made you feel sick. So, out of fear, you had been sort of avoiding Yeonjun for the last week. Which was kind of hypocritical of you, considering you had gotten angry at him for doing that to you before. But, at least you had a good reason, right?

Tonight, though, at Keena’s party, it was more than likely he would be there. Part of you was excited to see him, and had been missing him, while the other part was scared of confrontation, and having to explain to him why you had been avoiding him.

“Y/N, could you pass me that bag of Doritos?” Jisu’s sweet voice yanked you out of your sea of thoughts, reminding you that you were supposed to be helping her set up for the party, not thinking about Yeonjun.

“Did you get enough chips?” Chaeryeong asked incredulously as Jisu popped open the bag and began to pour them into a plastic bowl.

Jisu rolled her eyes. “This house is going to be filled with a bunch of guys that are just finishing puberty. Trust me, in my experience planning parties, they eat a lot.”

Keena, who was wearing a ‘Birthday Girl’ tiara on top of her head, let out a small giggle. “True. Umm, speaking of guys…” She paused for a minute, looking over at Jisu nervously. “Do you know if Yeonjun is coming tonight?”

Everyone froze. Including you, who nearly choked on your own spit.

“Oh. Uhh, no, I’m not really sure…” Jisu answered, then glanced over at you. “Y/N might know, though.”

Keena furrowed her eyebrows. “What? Why might Y/N know?” She asked slowly, her intense gaze flickering between you and Jisu. Then, you watched as her eyes widened, and the answer seemed to dawn on her. “Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t know you and Yeonjun were--”

“It’s fine.” You quickly waved her off. “You know what? I think I’m gonna go check on the drinks really quick. Just make sure everything is in its place.” You forced the best smile you could muster up, and started to leave.

“Oh, I’ll come with you! I think I left my bracelet out there earlier.” Chaeryeong raced after you, and you had a feeling she was as desperate as you were to escape the awkward tension that had suddenly filled the air.

The two of you slipped out the door and into the backyard, where all the different soda and alcoholic drinks Jisu had gotten were being stored. With a long sigh, you bent down and opened up one of the coolers. You half considered dipping your head into the ice in an attempt to calm yourself down, but then you would ruin the makeup you had spent so much time on.

Chaeryeong watched you awkwardly, toying with a ring on her finger. “They made out once. Last summer. At a bonfire.” She suddenly spoke up.

You looked back at her over your shoulder. “What?”

“Keena and Yeonjun. I think she’s had a crush on him since forever, and they made out last summer. I think that’s why she was asking.” She explained.

“He kissed her?” You asked in disbelief. “How many girls that are coming tonight has he made out with?”

She shrugged. “Like, 6. There are a few guys, too, I think.”

You groaned, and the idea of sticking your head in the cooler was sounding more and more like a good idea.

“But, you really shouldn’t worry!” Chaeryeong was quick to reassure you, kneeling down next to you. “He always ended up ghosting them after. I’ve seen Yeonjun kiss a lot of people, but I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you!” She smiled, and rubbed your back reassuringly.

You looked over at her. “Really?”

She nodded. “Really. I know it sounds so cliche, but he’s… Different, around you. I really think you’re more than just a quick hookup to him.”

She was right. It was so cliche. And she was probably just saying it to make you feel better, but it still made your heart swell up. You couldn’t help smiling back at her, leaning into her touch.

“Thanks, Chaer.” It was hard to remember that you would be leaving her at the end of the summer, and probably rarely talk to her again after that. Your old friends back at home would never have been able to cheer you up the way she did. In fact, you could hear Haeun’s voice now, telling you he’s just a manwhore, Y/N! There’s no way he’s into you!

You wished you could stay there forever.

The door flew open, and your little hug was broken as the two of you jumped to turn around and look. There was Jisu, standing with her hands on her hips. “Could you at least close the cooler? You’re going to melt all of the ice!” She snapped at the two of you. “And come back in here! We need to get the beer pong table set up before people start arriving!”

You and Chaeryeong shared a brief amused look. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, we’re coming.” She rolled her eyes, standing up.

Initially, you had gone out there to escape from the insecurity starting to inflate inside of you, but thanks to Chaeryeong’s words, you were starting to feel a whole lot more secure in your relationship with Yeonjun. Who cared if he kissed Keena a year ago, and she was still into him?

Yeonjun had his eyes on you. Not Keena. And if what Chaeryeong had said was true, that he was different towards you… Maybe there was a small chance he was falling for you, too.

There was nothing to worry about…

Right?

KEENA’S PARTY WAS EVEN BIGGER THAN YOU’D ANTICIPATED. It seemed like there were as many people as were at Jake’s party, if not more. You doubted everyone there knew Keena, and were intending to celebrate her birthday. Most of them were probably just looking for a good time.

You had been hoping to run into Yeonjun soon. You wanted to apologize, and explain why you had been so distant the past week. After you had gotten so angry at him for doing the same thing to you, an explanation was what he deserved, right?

So far, though, you had yet to see him anywhere. You wondered if maybe he had decided not to show up after all. If you’d learned one thing about Yeonjun, though, it was that he was not one to miss a party. Especially not a rager like this one. So, you knew he was somewhere in the house, it was just a question of where.

You had just finished combing through the kitchen unsuccessfully when you wandered over towards the beer pong table, releasing a frustrated sigh. You were prepared to give up and just text him and ask where he was, but that’s when you saw him.

No, not Yeonjun. It was Beomgyu, playing a game of beer pong with some random people you didn’t know. Relief washed over you as you trudged over to him, praying that your search was nearing its end.

“Beomgyu!” You called out, then realized he had just been preparing to toss his ball, and your shout had totally thrown him off. He frowned as the ball bounced off the edge of a cup, and the perfect throw he’d been aiming for was ruined forever.

With a defeated sigh, he finally looked in your direction. “Y/N? You wanna play, or something?” He asked, gesturing to the cups.

“No, I’m not very good. Uh, no, I was just going to ask if you knew where Yeonjun was?” You smiled hopefully at him.

He tapped a finger to his lips, as though he was deep in thought. “Hmm, no. Wait! Yes, last time I saw him he was out on the back porch. Actually, that might have been Wooyoung… No-no, it was definitely Yeonjun. Yeah, he’s out on the back porch.”

You cocked an eyebrow. “You sure?” Clearly, he had been playing too much beer pong, and was already drunk.

“Yeah, one hundred percent, lady. Oh, if you see him, will you ask where he put my Air Force Ones? I know he stole them, I just don’t know where he’s hiding them.”

You blinked, then nodded slowly. Yeah, you weren’t really sure just how reliable Beomgyu was, but it was the closest thing you had to a lead at that point. “Sure. I’ll ask.”

With that, you started walking away, ready to wrap up the conversation, but before you got the chance, Beomgyu caught your wrist. He tugged you back, a bit closer to him, then leaned in close so you could feel his breath on your ear.

“Be careful around him, Y/N.”

You felt the hair on the back of your neck stand up. “What?” You whispered.

He smiled. “I said have fun with him, Y/N! Bye!” He let go of your wrist, and returned to the game, leaving you standing there dumbfounded.

Be careful around him. He really said that, didn’t he? You hadn’t imagined it? He had recovered from it so nonchalantly, and returned to his game without any hesitation, you wondered if maybe you were going crazy and hallucinated it. During your time exploring the party, you’d had a few drinks, so maybe you were just a little intoxicated.

For now, you decided to just ignore it. Instead, you started to make your way up through the house, and in the direction of the back porch. You were glad you did decide to have a few drinks, otherwise your nerves might have been on fire. Granted, you weren’t completely relaxed, but your hands weren’t shaking, so that was a good sign.

You pushed through the crowd of people until you finally found yourself out on the back porch where you had been hiding out with Chaeryeong earlier in the day.

I’ve never seen him look at someone the way he looks at you!

Be careful around him, Y/N.

You shook your head, trying to shake the voices of your friends loose from your mind.

Finally, you spotted him. He was leaning up against the railing, appearing to be deep in conversation with someone, but you couldn’t see who. Then, the person blocking your view moved out of the way, and your heart sank. Suddenly, you wished you hadn’t seen him.

He was talking to Keena, who had her hand resting on his arm, and was leaning in close to laugh about something he said. And the worst part was, he wasn’t trying to get her to move, or anything like that. No, instead he leaned down as well, so their faces were practically inches away from each other as their loud laughter drifted across the patio to you.

You were trying really, really hard not to think the worst, but you couldn’t help it. She was basically all over him, and he wasn’t doing anything about it.

But what did you expect? It wasn’t like he was your boyfriend or anything.

You made the mistake of standing and staring for too long, though. Because he must have felt your gaze burning into the side of his face, and glanced in your direction. Except the glance turned into a wide-eyed stare when he realized it was you watching them.

He started to say something to Keena, peeling her hands off of him, but you were out of there before you saw what happened next. You spun around on your heel and stormed back into the house, feeling tears brim in the corners of your eyes. You didn’t know why you were crying. You were the one who had stopped talking to him for the last week. You had come clean and told him you were a virgin. It was no wonder he had gotten bored of you and moved onto someone else.

You turned down a hallway, and threw open the first door to a bedroom you found. There was a couple making out on the bed, who jumped when you flung the door open, then glared at you. “Excuse you, can’t you see we’re in the middle of something?” One of the girls asked.

“Go do it somewhere else!” You snapped at her, and she scoffed at your exclamation.

“Listen, girl, we were here first--”

“Give us the room!” You didn’t even notice him come up behind you. With an annoyed groan, you buried your face in your palms. This room was supposed to be your escape from him, and now he was ruining it. You had half a mind to elbow him in the stomach.

The girls rolled their eyes, but were apparently not in the mood to argue--not with Yeonjun, at least. You were both quiet as they walked past, and you tried to follow them out of the room, but of course he stopped you. He tugged you back into the room, and shut the door before you could run back out.

“Y/N, look, it wasn’t what it looked like--”

“Of course it wasn’t! It never is, is it?” You were trying not to be angry at him, but he was making it so difficult!

He sighed as you went to sit on the bed. “Look, I don’t even know why you’re that upset. You haven’t talked to me all week, so I thought you were… Done with this, I don’t know.”

You shook your head, pressing your elbows into your knees as you cradled your cheeks with your palms. “No, it’s not that. I’m just…” Your voice trailed off, and suddenly it became hard to talk. His presence looming in the doorway wasn’t exactly helping, either.

When he finally left his spot to come sit on the bed next to you, you weren’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing. “What is it, Y/N? I need you to talk to me.” He said softly.

You looked over at him, to see his dark eyes gazing down on you. He should be annoyed with you, and your childish behavior. But he’s not. Instead, his eyes are so full of fondness, you can’t help but think back to what Chaeryeong told you.

I’ve never seen him look at someone the way he looks at you!

You suppose it’s time you did what you had intended to do when you first went onto the porch--tell him the truth.

“That’s not why I was ignoring you… I was ignoring you because--and this probably sounds really silly and stupid, but--I think I was scared.” The last word slipped through your lips, barely above a whisper.

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Scared? Scared of what?” He asked you.

“I just… I really like you, Yeonjun. Like, really like you. And I was scared of how fast I was starting to like you.” You knew it was stupid before, but now that you had actually said it, it sounded really stupid.

He didn’t say anything for a few seconds, didn’t react, but then he slowly started to smile. “You really like me?” He asked.

You rolled your eyes, and punched his shoulder. “Shut up! I’m serious!”

He winced, reaching up to rub where you had hit him. “Okay, okay, sorry. I guess I’m just a little confused why that would be scary. Shouldn’t that be a good thing? Because I really like you, too.”

There was only one way you could really make him understand. You sucked in a shaky breath, and braced yourself. “Can I… Tell you something?”

He nodded. “Yeah, of course. Tell me anything.”

“This summer… The reason me and my mom came down, just the two of us… Earlier this year, my mom came home to find my dad hooking up with our housekeeper.” You paused, looking over at him for a reaction. “I thought he loved my mom, but I guess he didn’t--or at least not enough. And I saw how badly that hurt her, I had to be there to help pick up the pieces of her broken heart. So, I guess I was really just scared, that I could see myself falling in love with you, and that means you have the power to break my heart, just like my dad did to my mom.”

The room was silent. Yeonjun was staring down at you, his eyes wide, and you thought they were starting to look a bit glassy. His lips were slightly parted, like he was getting ready to say something, but nothing came out. You weren’t sure you had ever seen Yeonjun at a loss for words before. Quiet Yeonjun was a lot scarier than talkative Yeonjun.

“See, I knew it was stupid.” You heaved a defeated sigh, and stood up to leave, but for the second time that night, Yeonjun grabbed ahold of your wrist.

“It’s not stupid.” He reassured you quickly. You looked down at him, to see him gazing up at you with a pleading expression, then decided to sit back next to him. “I’m sorry your dad did that, Y/N. Your mom didn’t deserve that--you didn’t deserve that. But I promise, I won’t ever hurt you the way he did. You have nothing to be afraid of.”

You could feel your eyes growing wet again. “Really?” You breathed out. “You promise?”

He nodded fervently. “I promise.”

Then, the two of you leaned in at the same time, connecting your lips in a passionate kiss. Your heart was hammering against your chest, and you were overwhelmed by how strong your feelings for him were growing. It was still a scary feeling, but it was a little less scary now that he made that promise to you.

The kiss didn’t last for long, though, as you pulled away and instead buried your face in his shoulder. “I’m sorry for not talking to you.”

He laughed softly, resting one of his hands on the back of your head. “It’s okay. I’m sorry for letting Keena flirt with me. I should have shut that down a long time ago.”

You smiled. “Yeah, you should have. But… It’s her birthday. You can tell her later.”

“Yeah. Later.” He leaned back, and you looked up so you were at eye level with him again. He pressed his lips against yours again, and snuck a hand around your waist. As you kissed him, he pulled you up so you were straddling his lap. “Can we stay here all night?” He whispered against your lips.

You giggled, shaking your head as you kissed him again. “No. I need to go check in with Jisu and see if she needs anything.” You told him, and he whined.

“Jisu is fine, what about what I need?”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re like a baby. We can make out later, let me just go--”

Suddenly he fell back onto the bed, taking you down with him. He rolled over so he was hovering over you, looking down at you with a playful grin. “Now you’re trapped, so I guess you’re stuck here with me.”

“Oh yeah?” You laughed, and reached up to wrap your arms around the back of his neck.

“Yeah.” He breathed out, and leaned down to once again capture your lips in a heated kiss. This time, you didn’t try to protest. Jisu could wait. You had gone a whole week without this, and now that you’d gotten another taste of him, you were reminded of how you just couldn’t get enough of him.

Thankfully, the girls who you had kicked out never came back, and nobody else barged in to interrupt you. You had no idea whose room the two of you were in, but for that night, it belonged to you.

WHEN YOU WERE A KID, YOU ALWAYS LOOKED FORWARD TO the annual fair that took place out on the boardwalks. There were rides, games, snacks, and best of all, they would end the night with a sky full of fireworks. Your parents would always buy you some cotton candy, pay off the people running the games to help you win some stuffed prize, then take you up on the ferris wheel to watch the fireworks. It was perfect.

You couldn’t believe it when you found out the tradition was still going strong. As soon as you found out it was happening towards the end of July, you knew you had to be there. And more importantly, you knew you wanted to go with Yeonjun.

Unfortunately for you, though, Beomgyu and Wooyoung also wanted to go with Yeonjun. You decided to make it a group outing, inviting Jisu and Chaeryeong to tag along as well. It wasn’t ideal, but you couldn’t lie and say you weren’t looking forward to it a little bit. Besides, you could always steal Yeonjun away later, right?

“I think we should go through the haunted house first.” Beomgyu suggested as the six of you wandered around the boardwalks.

Due to you now being in the last couple of weeks of July, it seemed like the heat of the summer was at an all time high. Even in the shade, in a pair of shorts and a tank top, you were still melting in the heat. The humidity radiating off of the ocean wasn’t helping much, either.

“No! You know those things scare me!” Yeonjun exclaimed, jabbing a finger in Beomgyu’s direction.

You grinned. “Aww, don’t worry Jjunie, I can protect you from the scary ghosts.” You cooed at him, hugging his arm close to you.

Beomgyu and Wooyoung exchanged a look as Yeonjun began to giggle at your antics. For some reason, it reminded you of what Beomgyu had told you the night of Keena’s party.

Be careful around him, Y/N.

Jisu cleared her throat. “Stop being gross. I think Beomgyu’s right, let’s go to the haunted house.”

Yeonjun frowned, but you looped your fingers together with his in an attempt to soothe him. He smiled down at you, and you assumed it was working.

“Careful, Y/N, he’ll break your hand off.” Wooyoung commented as the six of you started heading towards the haunted house. “One time, we went on a group date to see a scary movie, and I swear he broke the girl’s fingers.”

You tensed up at the mention of another girl. Of course, you knew Yeonjun had dated other people before you, and after your conversation at the party, you knew you had nothing to be jealous of. Still, the comment stung a bit.

“Oh my god, remember when we played with that VR set last summer, and Yeonjun started crying while playing Five Nights at Freddy’s VR?” Chaeryeong started to laugh loudly, and Yeonjun glared at her.

“Shut up! Jisu started crying too, but nobody brings that up!” He snapped defensively, and you couldn’t help laughing.

Jisu shrugged. “That’s because you’re a man. You’re supposed to be strong and macho, or whatever. Girls are allowed to cry.”

“Isn’t that a little anti-feminist of you?” Beomgyu asked with furrowed eyebrows.

“So what if it is? Girls are allowed to be anti-feminist.” She teased, and Beomgyu rolled his eyes.

“In my Women’s Studies class, they taught us that was a bad mindset.” Wooyoung said.

“Why did you take a Women’s Studies class?” You laughed in disbelief.

He glanced away. “…Because the TA was hot.”

Finally, you all made it to the haunted house. It looked exactly the same as it had when you were a little girl, too afraid to dare go inside of it. Your dad had tried to convince you to go in with him multiple times, but you always told him no! You were still a little bit scared, but after the way they had just clowned Yeonjun, you absolutely were not going to let anyone know that.

Instead, you just clung on tightly to Yeonjun, assuring him you were just doing it to make him feel better. But when the two of you rounded a corner to be jump scared by someone dressed as a zombie, and you screamed as you buried your face into your chest, it was obvious you were just as scared as him.

“You’re kinda cute when you’re scared. Maybe we should go through haunted houses more often.” Yeonjun commented once you were out of earshot of the actor.

“Nope. You better get a good look and savor scared Y/N now, because I’m never doing this shit again.” You said sweetly, tilting your chin to look up at him. You were still nestled against his chest as the two of you walked, clinging onto one another for safety.

“Oh trust me, I am looking.” He flashed that stupid, flirty grin that always gave you butterflies, then started to lean down.

There was a loud gagging sound. “God, is this why you two are so far behind? It’s not enough to make out everywhere else, you have to do it here, too?” Wooyoung asked incredulously.

You pushed yourself away from his chest. “Nope! I was just wiping away his tears!”

Yeonjun gasped. “What?! Don’t lie! She was scared, too!” He shouted after you as you jogged to catch up with the others.

BY THE TIME THE SUN WAS STARTING TO SET, and fireworks were just a short while away, you were exhausted. You were pretty sure the heat was slowly killing you, and you had spent several hours playing stupid carnival games because Wooyoung insisted on beating each one. Which was how he ended up with arms full of plushies that he started giving out to random children.

Yeonjun won you a fox plushie at the ring toss after you informed him that it reminded you of him. He said it was so you would always be reminded of him, which reminded you that in about a month, you’d be going back to the city, and you didn’t know if you’d ever see him again.

But, today wasn’t the day to be thinking about that. You wanted to focus on the fact that you were there with him now, and ignore that the future was creeping in closer and closer. Stressing about it wasn’t going to make things any easier for when the time came, so what was the point?

The two of you were once again lagging behind your other friends as you walked around, relishing in the cool air that was starting to set in as the sun prepared to dip below the horizon. In one hand, you held the fox plushie close to your chest, and in the other, you held Yeonjun’s hand tightly.

“Ugh, I’m so tired. I think my feet are going to fall off.” You groaned to him, leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder.

He gently shook with soft laughter. “Yeah, I know. When I was a kid, I could run around here for hours, but now I just get worn out so quickly.” He said with a sigh. “I had an idea, though. I know you wanted to go watch the fireworks from the ferris wheel, but I think I might know a better place.”

“Oh yeah?” You looked up at him curiously.

He nodded. “Yeah. It’ll be a good view, and there will be way less people. Nice and secluded.”

“Ooh, I like the sound of that.” You giggled. Of course, you’d been hoping to watch the fireworks the way you used to, but more than that you were dying to get some alone time with Yeonjun. Your friends were being third, fourth, fifth and sixth wheels, and ruining everything.

You blamed stupid Choi Beomgyu and Jung Wooyoung.

“We just have to sneak away from our friends first…” His voice trailed off as he glanced around, as though he was looking for a way to escape.

You hummed in thought. “Hmm… Oh! I have an idea!”

You tugged him by his hand in the direction of your friends, picking up the pace to switch into a jog. He didn’t question you, he just jogged behind you, still holding tightly onto your hand, like he was afraid of you slipping out of his grasp.

Once she noticed you approaching her from behind, Chaeryeong let out a low groan. “If you guys are going to keep being gross, you should go do it somewhere else. You’re going to ruin some perfectly good fireworks!” She whined.

You smiled over at Yeonjun, realizing this was going to be a lot easier than you thought. “So… You wouldn’t mind if we snuck away and left you guys to watch them together?” You inquired slowly.

“What?! No! You can’t steal him away from us! Let’s split up, boys and girls!” Wooyoung grabbed Yeonjun’s other hand, trying to tug him away from you.

“Did they teach you to do that in your Women’s Studies class?” Jisu raised an eyebrow.

Wooyoung hissed at her.

“Ew, I’m not going with you after you did that, freak!” Yeonjun snapped his hand out of his grip. “I’m actually feeling a little sick after The Zipper, so I just want to turn in early.”

It was so obviously a lie, a lot worse than the one you had been planning to use, but it looked like your friends had given up hope. “Fine… Make sure you take care of him, Y/N.” Beomgyu released a sigh of defeat.

“If you throw up on her, I’ll kill you.” Jisu threatened. Chaeryeong nodded in solidarity.

“I’m not going to throw up on her!”

“He might! Because he’s so very sick. Come on, Jun!” You waved to your friends as you started to pull him away, smiling widely at them. “I’ll text you guys later!”

“Don’t forget to use protection!” Wooyoung shouted once you guys were practically out of earshot.

Your face grew hot, and you were suddenly overwhelmed with mortification. Did he want everyone at the fair to think you two were sneaking off to have sex? You hoped Jisu punched him for that. She and Chaeryeong were the only people other than Yeonjun that you had told about your… Predicament. At least you knew that those two knew you weren’t running away to hook up. You just hoped nobody else you knew heard him.

“Ignore him. He’s a fucking idiot.” Yeonjun glared over his shoulder, and you watched as he held up a middle finger towards Wooyoung.

“Yeah, I’ll say.” You muttered, looking down to find interest in your sandals.

He let go of your hand, and you were about to complain but he instead wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you close to him. “C’mon. Let me show you the super special spot I had in mind.”

The entire walk to his “super special spot”, he kept a firm grip on you, keeping you close to him. You knew that Yeonjun was a touchy guy, you discovered that pretty early on. Tonight, though, he seemed clingier than usual. You didn’t really mind, in fact you liked staying close to him. There was just something about being so close to him that made you feel safe, and secure. Like nothing bad would happen as long as you were with him.

His super special spot, as it turned out, was your house.

You gave him a deadpan look.

“No, I know what you’re thinking! But, look, you have a perfect view of where the fireworks go off! Especially if we climb out of your window onto your roof!” He beamed down at you proudly.

“Absolutely not. My mom might actually wring our necks and kill us if she finds out we’re climbing up there.” You started to laugh, shaking your head at the idea.

“But you said your mom is out with friends tonight, right? She’ll never even know we were up there.”

You tucked your bottom lip between your teeth, biting down as you mulled the idea over. He was right, you did tell him about how your mom was out drinking with some of her old friends. And if she did come home and see you up there, you might be able to convince her that she was so drunk that she imagined it, or something like that. “Okay, fine! But if I fall down and break my neck, you’re paying my medical bills.”

“Nope! If you go down, I go down, too!” He sang, hot on your tail like a lost puppy as you wandered up your porch stairs.

You laughed softly as you picked through your keyring to find the right one. “I’m not sure if that’s really stupid, or really romantic.”

Suddenly, you felt his arms wrap around your waist from behind, and his breath against your neck, causing goosebumps to spread across your skin. “Why not both?” He asked, then leaned forward to press a kiss against your cheek.

As you finally got the door open, you giggled, and tried to push him off of you. “Come on, this way!” You raced up the stairs, and just as you had hoped, he began to chase after you. He was barely inches behind you, filling you up with adrenaline as you screamed and turned down the hallway in the direction of your bedroom.

Unfortunately, your door was closed, which gave him plenty of time to catch up to you as your nerves made it difficult to wring the doorknob open. The second the door opened up, he caught you, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you off the ground. The air was filled with giggles and screams as he carried you over to your bed.

“Yeonjun, stop--!” You barely managed to get out between your laughter, and you let out a loud yelp when he dumped you onto the cushy mattress, then crawled on top of you.

You were out of breath as you laid against your bed, chest heaving up and down as you tried to cool your giggles. He was hovering over you, and you recalled the last time he had caged you in back at Keena’s party. As the two of you were catching your breath, though, something in the air felt different. His dark eyes were flickering between yours, like he was searching for something inside of them.

You were suddenly overcome with a warm feeling, and before you got the chance to stop yourself and ask if this was a good idea, you whispered to him. “I think I’m in love with you.”

For some reason, you thought you would regret telling him that. You thought it would ruin things between the two of you, and make him regret ever going out with you. But, you weren’t regretting it. You had been thinking it for over a week now, and finally, you were able to get it off of your chest. And even if he didn’t feel the same, even if he thought you were rushing into things too fast, you were just glad that you had finally worked up the nerve to tell him. Because it was true, and he deserved to know.

He stared down at you, blinking. “You are?” He asked, barely loud enough for you to hear in the silent room.

You nodded, taking a good look at his face. His long, pretty eyelashes, his pointed nose, his perfectly shaped lips… As you were taking him in--all of him--there was absolutely no doubt in your mind.

“Yeah. I’m in love with you.”

The second the last word left your mouth, Yeonjun wasted no time diving down to connect his lips with yours. By that point, you had kissed him more times than you could count, but you didn’t care about any of those other times, because nothing compared to this one.

He didn’t need to say it back. You could feel it in the way he gently pushed your stray strands of hair out of your face, and in the way he cupped your cheek as he kissed you, like you were the most precious object in the whole world to him. When he pulled away from your lips to press kisses all over your face--your eyes, your nose, your cheeks, your chin--you knew that he loved you too.

A bright light flooded into your room through the window, followed by a loud boom. The two of you looked to see the fireworks you had been dying to see finally going off, and he was right. Your bedroom had a perfect view.

He looked back down at you, his lips slightly swollen from all the kissing. “Do you--still wanna--watch?” He asked between breaths.

A wave of confidence rushed over you, and you shook your head. With a shaky breath, you lifted one of your legs, hooking it around his lower back to pull him close to you. “Yeonjun…I’m ready for you.”

The room glowed red. “Are you--Are you sure?” He whispered, furrowing his brows as he examined your face.

Before now, you’d never really felt the desire to be with someone intimately like that. Nobody had ever made your heart race the way he did, and if you were going to give a piece of yourself away to anyone, you wanted it to be him. The first boy you had ever really, truly loved. In an attempt to show him just how serious you were, you reached down, grabbing the edge of your shirt and slowly pulling it up over your head so you were left only with your bra.

His eyes widened, then he leaned down to kiss you again. Now, his kisses were getting rougher, more aggressive, like you had woken something up inside of him. His hand roamed down to the side of your thigh, as his lips moved to attach themselves to your neck. “I need you to tell me. Tell me you’re sure about this.” He mumbled against your skin in between kisses.

You grabbed a hold of the sides of his face, pulling him away and forcing him to look at you. You pressed one more kiss against his lips, then said the magic words.

“I’ve never been more sure about anything.”

YOU HAD NEVER BEEN A BIG FAN OF AUGUST. It was the last month of summer, and usually the month that school started back up again. It was like the Sunday of the year--sure, it was still a part of your break, but it was also when the dread of returning to stupid school set in. You didn’t like it when you were a kid, and you didn’t like it now.

Well, before this year you didn’t like it. Now, you were starting to like it. And that’s because you and Yeonjun officially became a couple on the first day of August. You had probably spent way too much time with him in the last week, but you didn’t care. You were in the honeymoon phase, where you just wanted to be beside him constantly.

Your days were spent wandering around town, whether it be eating lunch together at different restaurants, or going for walks along the beach, and splashing each other with the ocean water as you swam. And your nights were spent twisted in bedsheets, and filled with pillow talk that stretched into the early hours of the mornings.

It’s safe to say you were absolutely head over heels for Choi Yeonjun. If he was a bright, blazing flame, then you were like a moth, unable to put up a fight as you found yourself drawn to him.

The problem with the honeymoon phase, though, is that it will always come to an end.

On Saturday, you were rudely awakened by the sun rising and flooding Yeonjun’s room with light. You groaned, trying to roll away from the light, but his arm was wrapped firmly around your waist, and there was no chance you were going anywhere.

“Yeonjun?” You called out weakly, and draped one of your arms over your eyes in an attempt to block out the light.

He hummed against your neck.

“Jun, wake up. I need to close the curtain.” You whined, trying to shake yourself out of his grip.

“No… Stay here.” He grumbled, and buried his face deeper into your neck. You giggled softly, but were still annoyed nonetheless.

“Come on, it’s hurting my eyes.”

“I’ll fix it.” He lazily reached down to grab the edge of your waist, then pulled you to help turn you to face him.

Finally, you were able to hide against his bare chest from the sunlight. “Okay, this is lots better.” You mumbled, and scooted closer so you could get nestled against him. It wasn’t the most comfortable position in the world, but it definitely beat having the sun in your eyes.

“Let’s just sleep forever.” Yeonjun muttered groggily against your hair, tightening his grip on your waist to pull you closer to him. Honestly, it wasn’t sounding like the worst idea in the world. You would be perfectly content spending the rest of the day hiding in his room, especially since you’d have to deal with the dirty looks of his friends as you tried to sneak out.

You could slowly feel yourself drifting back off into sleep when the door to the room flung open. Yeonjun was quick to sit up and see who it was, while you weren’t so quick to react. You were starting to grow angry from all the things preventing you from going back to sleep.

“Um, Yeonjun… You need to get her out of here.” You could hear Beomgyu saying, which piqued your interest. You sat up, holding the comforter close to your chest to cover yourself.

“Excuse me?” You asked, narrowing your eyes at his long haired friend.

Beomgyu looked… Scared, as his eyes darted between you and Yeonjun.

“What? What do you mean?” Yeonjun was rubbing his eyes to try and wake himself up.

“It’s…” Beomgyu’s voice trailed off, glancing over at you again, like he was too afraid to say the answer in front of you. “Karina.”

You felt Yeonjun tense up next to you. If he wasn’t awake before, he definitely was now, as he stared at Beomgyu with eyes as wide as saucers. He seemed to understand what his friend was talking about the second the name left his lips, but you were still completely in the dark about what was going on. And you hated being the only one left out of the loop. Which is why you asked the question, even though you should have known better.

“Who’s Karina?”

Stupid. Stupid, you were so stupid! Immediately after you asked it, you figured out the answer to your own question. And the looks on both Beomgyu and Yeonjun’s faces as they looked over at you--the looks of pity and guilt--confirmed it for you.

Be careful around him, Y/N.

“Oh.”

You felt frozen in place as they just stared at you, like they were waiting for some kind of reaction. But, you were in so much shock, with so many different thoughts going a million miles a minute, you didn’t know how to react. Did you scream? Did you cry? Did you slap him? You didn’t know what you were supposed to do.

The only thing you knew of for sure was you needed to get out of there. If you spent another second in that room--in his bed--you were going to lose your mind.

“Beomgyu… Can you get out? I need to get dressed.” You said slowly, your voice starting to waver.

He nodded wordlessly, then stepped out of the room and closed the door behind you. All it had taken was a matter of seconds for the place you didn’t want to leave to become the last place on Earth you wanted to be.

“Y/N, please.” Was all Yeonjun said as you stood up from the bed. His voice sounded far away.

You didn’t respond as you slowly dressed yourself. Through the wall, you could hear voices talking in another room, one of which obviously belonging to a girl. There was no way you were going to be able to go out that way, which meant you were going to have to climb out the window. When you were a little girl, the idea of sneaking out of a boy’s room through the window sounded exciting and romantic. Now, it was a part of your worst nightmare.

Once you finally had your clothes on, you walked over to the window--the same, stupid window that had woken you up earlier in the morning. You hated that stupid window.

“Y/N, I can explain everything, I swear I can--”

“You have a guest, it sounds like. You’d better go say hi.” You said numbly as you opened up the window. You took note of how, like your window in your bedroom, there was no screen. Which reminded you of the night he had hit you in the face with a pebble.

You should have never gone out to talk to him that night.

“Please, baby, just--” You didn’t give him a chance to finish. Without a look back at him, you slipped out of his window, and onto his rooftop. He didn’t try to stop you.

Your entire walk home, you felt numb all over. You weren’t sure how to process what had just happened. All you could do was keep replaying the way Yeonjun had looked at you. The pathetic, guilty look on his face, and his sad eyes as he gazed at you. Even worse, the pity on Beomgyu’s features. Like you were some puppy that had just gotten kicked to the curb.

At home, your mom was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking a coffee and reading the book you’d brought along on the trip. With everything that had been happening as of late, you hadn’t really had much time to read, so she had decided to pick it up.

You were hoping to just avoid any conversation and go up to your room, but of course, you never got the things you hoped for. Your mom heard you open the door, and put the book down to look at you.

“Y/N? Are you alright?” She asked, and you weren’t sure how she was able to tell something was wrong, but it must have been a mother’s instinct, or something like that.

You could just lie, and tell her you were fine, but you knew she wouldn’t believe that. Your bottom lip trembled, and you shook your head. “No.” Was all you could manage to get out before you burst into an explosion of sobs. Lucky for you, your mother was quick, and rushed to your side before you could collapse onto the floor.

“Oh, honey, what happened?” She gently caressed your hair, trying her hardest to console you. But, you’d never broken down like this in front of her before, so you weren’t surprised when she didn’t fully know how to help you.

Since you had asked that question, and gotten those looks in response, you had been trying to avoid directly confronting what had happened. You just knew something was bad, and that he had been lying to you about it. But, now, you were forced to finally say the words that had been lingering in the back, waiting to be acknowledged, that you’d been too afraid of.

“I think--I think he’s been cheating on me.” You cried out in between sobs, your body trembling in her arms. You could hardly breathe from how hard you were crying, could barely see through the tears nonstop flooding your eyes. “God, I’m such--I’m such an idiot! I should have known, I should have fucking known!”

“Hey, no. You’re not an idiot.” Your mom said firmly, gently forcing you to look at her. “You’re not an idiot. If he really is cheating on you, then he’s the idiot.”

You shook your head, rapidly blinking away your tears in an attempt to be able to look at her. More than anyone in the world, you knew she would be able to understand what had happened to you. How it had taken seconds for your world to be shattered.

In your time dating Yeonjun, you hadn’t even told your mom about him. She was recovering from her divorce, you thought that telling her all about how you were falling for someone would be insensitive, or something, so you chose not to tell her about it. Even still, she wasn’t asking you questions, like who was cheating on you, or anything like that. Instead, she was just doing her best to comfort you, and be there for you.

“I’m an idiot because… Because I think I still love him.” You whimpered.

“I know you do.” She whispered, and pulled you into a hug as you sobbed into her shoulder.

“I know you do.”

“HER NAME IS KARINA.”

You hadn’t left your room in days. You spent most of your time either crying, sleeping or eating. There was this heavy feeling in your chest, like your heart was physically aching, which was making it hard to motivate yourself to do anything. The fear of running into Yeonjun or any of his friends was also keeping you from leaving.

The worst part of it all, though, was he hadn’t tried to reach out once. You had expected a bunch of phone calls, and to be bombarded with text messages, hell maybe he would show up on your doorstep and ask your mom to talk to you. But, all you got from him was radio silence. You supposed he was too busy with Karina.

You did get lots of texts from Chaeryeong, Jisu, and even Keena wondering where you had been. When you didn’t respond, they took it upon themselves to show up at your house, asking your mom if you had died.

They found you curled up on your bed, watching Twenty-Five Twenty-One—aka the perfect drama to cry to—on your laptop. If even Yijin and Heedo hadn’t been able to make it, what in the world made you think that you and Yeonjun stood a chance? At least Yijin hadn’t cheated on Heedo, though.

After lots and lots of pressuring, you finally cracked and told them what happened. About how Beomgyu had burst into the room, and about how Yeonjun didn’t chase after you when you escaped out the window.

“Okay, but you don’t know who she is, right? How do you know he was cheating?” Chaeryeong had asked you, while Jisu seethed in the corner.

“It was written all over his face. I just knew.”

After that, Jisu told you she was going to go undercover and gather information for you. You told her she really didn’t need to do that, you weren’t sure you even wanted to know any information, but she insisted. Because even if you didn’t want to hear it then, you might want to hear it later.

Which led to now, where the three of you were gathered on your porch, going over the information. You had basically been forced to go outside, because according to Chaeryeong, you were in desperate need of some Vitamin D… The sunlight kind.

“Yeah, I already gathered that much.” You responded, pulling your knees up to your chest.

Jisu nodded. “Right. Okay. According to Beomgyu, they’d been going out for almost a year, but started fighting pretty bad this spring.”

“A year…” You swallowed hard, the familiar feeling of tears prickling the corners of your eyes starting to arise.

“Yeah… They decided to take a break this summer. So, technically, they’re not together right now.”

Chaeryeong gasped. “Wait! This is just like that episode of Friends! I think, I dunno, I never watched that show.”

Jisu glared at her. “Sure. Like Friends. Anyway, Wooyoung said she just showed up that morning, looking for Yeonjun. Apparently, she missed him, and decided to come surprise him, and end their break early, or whatever.”

You stared aimlessly out at the street, holding yourself back from blinking, so the tears wouldn’t spill out of your eyes. “So, this whole time… From the first bonfire we talked at… He’s had someone else on his mind.” You croaked out.

Chaeryeong sat next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I really believed him, too.”

“He’s a fucking asshole. I’m gonna go kill him.” Jisu muttered as she paced back and forth across the porch.

“Don’t do that.” You shook your head, wiping the stray tears that spilled from your eyes off of your cheeks. “I don’t—I don’t want him to know how badly he hurt me. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction.”

Jisu exchanged a look with Chaeryeong, then her muscles relaxed. “Okay. You’re right.” She said with a sigh.

Suddenly, Chaeryeong’s eyes lit up. “Oh, you know the perfect way to do that?” She asked excitedly, sitting forward in her seat.

You shook your head.

“So, Seungmin is throwing a huge bonfire party down at the beach with his friends, maybe we could find you a guy to flirt with, take your mind off of Yeonjun!”

You absolutely hated how badly your time with Yeonjun affected you. Because now, the thought of flirting with anyone who wasn’t him made your stomach churn. “Oh. Yeah, um, I don’t know…”

“We know you’re probably afraid of running into him.” Jisu jumped in. You wondered if they’d been planning this. “But, what if we can promise you he won’t be there?”

You must have been visibly grimacing at the thought, as Chaeryeong was quick to start trying to change your mind. “Please, Y/N! We miss going out with you so much! Just come and try to let yourself have fun, and if you’re still not feeling it, we’ll take you home!” She was practically begging, and Jisu was nodding fervently in agreement.

They were probably right. A night out would be good for you, and help take your mind off of everything. There was just a part of you that didn’t want to take your mind off of it. Some sick part of you enjoyed the pain—not because you were a masochist or anything, but because the pain meant it wasn’t completely over yet.

Maybe it was time for it to be over, though.

“…You can absolutely guarantee he won’t be there?” You looked between the two of them.

Chaeryeong nodded. “Mhm! We will tell Wooyoung and Beomgyu to keep him far away from that beach!” She told you enthusiastically.

With both of their eyes trained on you intensely, you realized you didn’t really have a choice in the matter. You let out a sigh. “Okay, fine. I’ll go.”

GOING TO A BONFIRE FOR YOUR FIRST NIGHT OUT SINCE finding out your boyfriend had been lying to you for months was not the best idea. After all, it has been at a bonfire party earlier in the summer where you had reconnected with him. Now, at the party where you were supposed to be thinking about anything but him, he was all you could think about.

Even when you were talking to a perfectly attractive guy, who was very obviously into you, all you could think about was him. Some guy—Taehyun, you think his name was?—visiting for the summer that was randomly invited by Seungmin had taken interest in you the second you and your friends arrived, and they insisted you go talk to him.

“Yeah, I spend a lot of time at the gym. I’m hoping to start boxing soon.” He was explaining to you as you were both walking along the beach. You nodded mindlessly, swirling around the beer in your plastic cup. “What about you? You in school, or anything?”

“Oh, I study environmental science.” You answered, then took a long sip of your beer, reveling in the way it burned your throat as it went down. Of course, because you couldn’t think of anything else, you couldn’t stop yourself from being reminded of your first date with him.

Taehyun’s eyes lit up. “Oh wow, that’s so cool! What kind of job are you hoping to get with that?”

You shrugged, and took another drink of your beer. Jisu and Chaeryeong were going to regret letting you go off on your own later. “You know, I’m not totally sure. Some kind of environmental scientist or something.”

He laughed, although you weren’t sure why, since it wasn’t meant to be a joke or anything. “You’re really funny, Y/N.”

“Thanks…?” You glanced over at him with furrowed eyebrows. “People call me a lot of things, but I don’t think funny is a really common one.”

“Oh really? What do they call you?” He asked, clearly amused.

“You know… Smart, nice, pretty…” You flashed him a smile, unsure where this flirty side of you was coming from. It was probably a combination of the alcohol and your desperation to get Yeonjun off of your mind.

“Ah, I can definitely see why they might call you those things.” He replied smoothly, and bumped his shoulder against your own. Instinctively, you glanced over your shoulder, searching for Jisu and Chaeryeong somewhere. Although, you wished you hadn’t.

“What? What’s wrong?” Taehyun asked when you stopped dead in your tracks.

You dropped your cup into the sand.

You couldn’t believe the fucking audacity. There he was, with the most drop dead gorgeous girl you had seen in your entire life. You could barely see his face due to how far away he was, and the darkness blanketing the beach, but you could tell he was looking for someone—looking for you.

To say you were panicked was an understatement. The second you saw his face, you were whipping around to face Taehyun. You could feel your breaths start to quicken, and your hand darted up to press against your chest. Hadn’t Jisu and Chaeryeong promised you that he wouldn’t be there? You were barely prepared for a night out without him, much less a night out with him.

“Woah, are you alright?” Taehyun asked, gently taking hold of your arms like you might topple over—which, you probably might.

“I—um, I need to get out of here.” You answered, the all too familiar feeling of tears forming in the corners of your eyes making an appearance. “Can you help me find my friends?”

Taehyun nodded, starting to lead you in the direction of the fire without a question. You raised one of your hands in an attempt to block your face from view. He really was a sweet guy. It was too bad you were still very hooked on someone else.

He slid an arm around your shoulder—likely in an attempt to comfort you rather than to try and flirt with you. At least you hoped that’s what it was. Your eyes landed on Chaeryeong, who was swaying in front of the bonfire with Seungmin’s arms around her waist, and let out a sigh of relief. You were almost there.

Any efforts you made to hide your face from view proved to be futile, though. You discovered this when Taehyun suddenly let go of you, then you heard his body hit the sand. There was a collection of gasps, and you turned to see Yeonjun standing there, flexing his fingers.

He punched him! He fucking punched him!

“What the fuck is your problem?!” You demanded, shoving his chest with as much force as you could muster so he stumbled backwards.

“Hey, don’t touch him!” A feminine voice spoke up behind him, and you could physically feel your face pale. Karina.

“Stop, it’s fine.” Yeonjun reassured her, then turned to look at you with narrowed eyes. “He was fucking all over you, Y/N.”

“No he wasn’t!” You spat back at him as you helped Taehyun to his feet. “Besides, even if he was, you don’t get to fucking care. Not anymore.”

Karina was visibly confused, but you didn’t really care right now. You were too busy focusing on not crying, and instead appearing as intimidating as possible.

“Y/N, let’s just go talk for a minute, please let me explain—“

“No! I don’t need you to explain, Yeonjun, I understand perfectly fucking well. You were fighting with your girlfriend, you were on a break, and in a desperate attempt to get some action this summer, you lied to me and told me you loved me.”

Okay, now you were definitely crying.

“Jun? What is she talking about?” Karina asked slowly, looking over at her boyfriend with wide eyes.

He didn’t look at her, though. Instead, he had his eyes trained on you, lips pressed tightly together.

“See? You can’t even try to tell me it’s not true. Just stay away from me, Yeonjun.” You snapped, and turned away from him before he could see you cry any more.

As you stormed away from the bonfire—heading god knows where—you couldn’t hold back your tears anymore. You were drunk, and sobbing, and overall in the worst emotional distress you never imagined could be possible. Your head was spinning as you stomped away, barely able to keep yourself standing from the way your ankles kept twisting in the sand.

Miserable didn’t even begin to describe how you were feeling. You still weren’t sure where in the world you were going, but all you knew was you needed to get far, far away from that place. Far away from your friends who had pressured you into coming out tonight; far from Taehyun, who was too kind to you for you to be able to handle. And most of all, you needed to be far away from Choi Yeonjun.

Just a week earlier, you couldn’t imagine being apart from him for more than a few minutes. Now, though, you couldn’t imagine being around him for more than a second. All it took was one look at him for you to be overwhelmed with heartache.

“Y/N!”

Of course.

You didn’t have to look back to know who was jogging up behind you. “I told you to stay away from me!” Your voice cracked as you shouted back at him.

“Y/N, you’re stumbling all over the place, let me help you before you fall!” You felt his hands grab ahold of your arms in an attempt to steady you, and for a second—just for a second—you could feel yourself melt into the familiar touch. But, it only lasted a second.

“Don’t touch me!” You screamed, and finally turned around to face him. His expression was wracked with guilt, and you almost felt bad. Almost. “You promised me, Yeonjun! You fucking promised me!” You jabbed a finger into his chest as the words tumbled out of your mouth.

“I know, I know, and I’m so sorry Y/N, I’m so fucking sorry.” He ran a hand through his dark hair, and you could see the tears slipping onto his cheeks catch the moonlight. “I was going to tell you everything, I was—“

“Did I mean anything to you, Yeonjun? Or was I just another conquest to keep your summer interesting?”

His eyes widened. “Did you mean anything—of course you did, Y/N—I mean, you do.” He told you, and his hand cupped your cheek. You didn’t fight his touch, this time. “I wasn’t lying when I told you I love you. I do, Y/N, I love you.”

You couldn’t look him in the eyes. “If you really love me, why did you let me fall in love with you, knowing that you were never going to be mine?”

“I am yours, Y/N! I’ve been yours since the first night I showed up outside your house. I knew that night that I was done with Karina, I just want you.” He was pleading with you, his thumb stroking your cheek as he tried to get you to look at him.

“How—how am I supposed to trust you, Yeonjun? How do I know you’re not lying to me again?”

He shook his head, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth. “I-I don’t know, Y/N. If you just give me one more chance, let me prove myself to you—“

You pulled his hand off your cheek. “No, Yeonjun. I already gave you a chance. I told you about my dad, and how badly it fucked me up, just for you to turn me into the other woman.”

“You are not the other woman, babe, you’re so much more than that.” His whole face was wet with tears, and you imagined yours looked the same. Glimmering under the moonlight, it might look beautiful if it wasn’t for the context.

“I’m sorry, Yeonjun. I love you, I really do, but I can’t. So please just let me go.”

A small part of you wished he had fought for you. If he begged for you to forgive him just a little bit longer, you probably would have given in. You were so desperately in love with him, you probably would have taken him back and one day been able to put this entire thing behind you. When he gave you a defeated nod, though, you felt your heart sink.

“Okay. Okay. But, please, Y/N, just don’t ever think I don’t love you, or that everything I said to you was a lie. Because it wasn’t. I love you.”

Every time he said those three words, it was like a knife to your heart. Every time, your whole summer together replayed in your head, from the moment you two talked at the bonfire, to the moment Beomgyu said Karina’s name. How had it all fallen apart so easily? How could two people who loved each other so much end up like this?

You knew things were over between the two of you. As badly as it hurt, and as badly as you didn’t want things to be done, you knew they were. So, you decided to do one last thing. You stepped towards him, and gently cradled his face in your hands.

“I know. I love you, too.” You whispered, then closed the distance between the two of you.

If ever in your life you could choose one moment to frame in your mind forever, it would be that kiss. Even though your lips were both wet with tears, and you were still a bit drunk, it was still the most romantic moment of your entire life. His arms snaked around your waist and pulled you close to him, like if he tried enough, he could melt your bodies into one, and you’d never have to leave him.

You knew, in that moment, you would never get over him. No matter how hard you tried, you would never be able to shake your connection to him. Even though he had put you through hell in the last week, he had also gifted you the best summer of your life. There would always be a part of you that loved him.

As much as you never wanted to let go of him, you knew you had to eventually. So, you reluctantly pulled away from the kiss, and pressed your forehead against his.

“Goodbye, Yeonjun.” This time, when you started to walk away, he didn’t try to stop you.

That was the last time you saw Choi Yeonjun.

FOUR MONTHS LATER…

YOU HADN’T MEANT TO KILL THE MOOD. Everyone had just finished their finals, which obviously meant it was time to go out and celebrate. Just like every other night throughout the semester, you hadn’t really been in the mood to go out, but Haeun insisted you go out tonight.

“Look, I don’t know what in the hell happened to you this summer, but it’s been months! It’s time to get over it!” She had told you. “Please come do something fun with us! Just for tonight!”

Haeun wasn’t exactly the kind of girl to take no for an answer. Even though you would much rather curl up on your bed and watch a drama on your laptop like you did the majority of your nights since you arrived on campus, you knew deep down you didn’t really have a choice.

Which was how you ended up in some bar on the edge of campus. Haeun and her friends were going off about some girl they all seemed to hate, but you weren’t really paying much attention. You were a bit too preoccupied playing this little game with yourself where you drank as much as you could before anyone noticed and stopped you.

“Did you see her newest Instagram post? She’s so lame.” Haeun’s friend, Choonhee leaned over to show Nari, who started laughing loudly. You had never really liked Haeun’s friends. They were too mean for your tastes.

“Y/N~!” Haeun sang to you, leaning in close so only you would be able to hear her. “That guy over there has been checking you out all night.”

You rolled your eyes, but followed her gaze anyway. Sure enough, there was a guy on the other end of the club, eyes trained on you as he took a sip of his drink. Immediately, you started shaking your head, and Haeun frowned.

“Why notttt, Y/N? He’s cute, and you’re single, just go talk to him!” She whined at you.

“I’m not interested, Haeun.” You took a drink of the cocktail you’d been working on.

She groaned. “Why?! I know you’re shy, or whatever, but you’re about to graduate soon! And you can’t graduate as a virgin!”

You choked on your drink, and she raised an eyebrow at you. “Unless… You’re not a virgin anymore…? Is that why you’ve been acting weird since this summer?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You sighed. Great, now you were thinking about him again. And you did not want to be thinking about him again. “I’m gonna go get a shot. You want anything?”

“No. And you don’t need another shot. Do you think I didn’t notice you downing drinks all night?”

Choonhee and Nari started to quiet down, taking interest in your conversation with Haeun.

“I’m fine, Haeun. I can handle my liquor.” You waved a hand at her as you started to stand up. Your skirt got caught on your chair, though, causing you to nearly fall down. You heard Chanhee and Nari start to giggle, and shot the two of them dirty looks.

Haeun looked at you warily, then slowly stood as well. “Um, I actually forgot but Y/N has work tomorrow. So I think I’m gonna take her home.”

Choonhee rolled her eyes. “Please. We’re trying to celebrate, we really don’t need her ruining the mood.” She said it in a hushed voice, like you might not be able to hear her. But, of course you did.

You heard everything that people said about you. During your last week of the summer, before coming home, you heard Jisu and Chaeryeong whispering about you. Poor Y/N. When you were road tripping back home with your mom, and you were supposed to be asleep, you heard your mother talking about you. Poor Y/N. When you were supposed to meet Haeun for lunch, you heard her talking to Choonhee and Nari. She used to be so much more fun.

You heard everything.

Haeun led you out of the bar, before you got the urge to fight someone. Now that you were outside, with the cool air on your face, you realized just how much you had drunk. Your head was spinning, and you weren’t sure you were entirely conscious. It felt like your mind was on a completely different plane from your body. Still, though, as drunk as you were, you still couldn’t get him out of your mind.

As Haeun started to order an Uber, you couldn’t think of anything else better to do than to pull out your phone. Maybe you would text Chaeryeong and Jisu to tell them you missed them, or text your mom really quickly. But you weren’t able to do any of that. The lone notification staring up at you prevented any of that from happening.

Just your fucking luck.

yeonjun

hey

You absolutely couldn’t believe it. That was all you got? A fucking hey?! After all that shit, he texted you hey? You had half a nerve to smash your phone onto the concrete.

But, before you got the chance, the Uber that Haeun ordered rolled up against the sidewalk. You stumbled into the backseat next to Haeun, who you could tell was a little bothered by your behavior. You really hadn’t meant to ruin her night. Even though she was the one who had insisted you go out with them that night, she still didn’t deserve to deal with you when you were acting like this.

You turned on your phone again to stare at the message.

hey

You hated him. You hated him for waiting until now to text you—you hated him for texting you at all! He should have just left you alone. He single-handedly ruined your night, and probably your whole week with that text message. Most of all, you hated him because you missed him. So bad.

You didn’t remember when you started crying. But you did. One minute you were fine, blinking at your screen blankly. And suddenly your cheeks were wet, and tears had dropped down onto your phone. Your vision was becoming foggy, but you were still able to make out the contents of the notification.

“Woah, are you okay?” Haeun asked, leaning forward to get a better look at you.

“Fine!” You huffed, and wiped at your eyes. Your fingers moved faster than your brain did, and before you got the chance to consider if it was a good idea, you were dialing a number.

One ring…

Two rings…

Three rings…

For eight rings, you sat there waiting for him to pick up. And he never did. Instead, you were sent to his voicemail.

“Hey, this is Yeonjun. Sorry I missed you. Leave your name and number and I’ll give you a call back. Bye!”

Just the pre recorded sound of his voice over your phone speaker made your chest tighten. The phone beeped, giving you the cue to start talking. You could feel Haeun’s stare burning holes into your head, like she was trying to figure out who in the world you were calling.

“Really, Yeonjun? You text me, and can’t even answer the phone? You text me hey, and can’t pick up the phone? What’s your problem? By the way, what does that even mean?! Hey?! That’s all you have to say to me, after everything you did?”

You could feel your voice cracking as you shouted into the phone. Haeun was visibly intrigued by your voicemail, leaning in closer to hear you better--as if your loud shouts weren’t occupying the entire vehicle.

“Whatever… Hey. I guess I just wanted to tell you that I… I hate you. I hate you Yeonjun, so fucking bad! When my dad cheated on my mom, and destroyed our family, I never thought that I could hate someone more than I hated him. But guess what, Yeonjun? You proved me wrong! So congratulations!”

Your head was starting to pound--badly--so you leaned over to rest your head against the window. The few stray tears from before had developed into a full on rainstorm, coating your cheeks in salty wetness and worsening your headache. For a minute, you just sat there in silence, trying your best to keep your breathing steady. It wasn’t working.

After your long silence, you finally sucked in a long, shaky breath, then spoke again. “I hate you because I gave you all of me. All of me. And you--you just threw it all away! Like it was just nothing to you!” By that point, you had forgotten all about the other people in the car with you. Now, it was just you, and Yeonjun. You didn’t care about Haeun sitting next to you, or the Uber driver listening in on the conversation. All you cared about was getting the words that had been weighing heavy against your chest for the last four months off of you.

“You know what I hate most though, Yeonjun?” You asked, your trembling voice barely above a whisper. “I hate that even though you broke my promise, even though you were never truly mine… Even though I should hate you… I can’t. No matter how hard I try, I can’t bring myself to hate you. I think about you, all of the time. Even when Jeong Jaehyun, the hottest guy in our whole program asked me out on a date, I had to say no. Because I knew that he would never be you.”

A breathy laugh fights itself out of your lips. “I sound so fucking pathetic. And it’s because I am! I am fucking pathetic! But it’s all your fault! Because for whatever reason that I still can’t figure out, I love you. I still love you, so much, Yeonjun. Isn’t that just the worst thing you’ve ever heard?”

There’s a tap on your shoulder, and when you glanced over at Haeun, you realized the car stopped. You looked out the window again to see you had already made it to your apartment complex. Jeez, how long had you been talking on the phone for?

“Shit. I’ve gotta go. Um, if you’re going to text me again, do more than just hit me with a hey. Or, I don’t know, call me. You know we’re way past sending each other heys.”

You opened up the car door, mouthing a small “sorry” to Haeun. “We are so talking later!” She whisper-shouted back to you. You rolled your eyes as you stepped out of the car. You’d have to make sure Haeun gave that driver a nice tip later.

“Okay. Goodbye, Yeonjun.” You said with a sigh, standing still on the pavement leading to your apartment as the car started to drive away. “I miss you.” You whispered, and finally ended the call.

Luckily, your angry ranting over the phone had helped you to sober up enough that you made it into your apartment no problem. Your head was still spinning, though, and you practically fell onto your bed as you climbed into it. You were still drenched in makeup, and wearing the clubbing outfit Haeun had helped you pick out, but you were too tired to worry about all of that. You were ready to just pass out right then and there.

Sprawled out across your mess of blankets, you could feel yourself drifting off to sleep. You knew you had messed up with that stupid voicemail, but you weren’t going to worry about it now. That was Sober Y/N’s problem to deal with.

There was a familiar buzzing, though, and you were slowly pulled back into consciousness. Your hand grappled around your bed, trying to locate the source of the buzzing, then finally landed atop your phone. With a groggy groan, you rolled over onto your side, and held your phone in front of your face. Your eyes widened when you saw the caller ID.

Should you answer? Or should you leave it be? You knew if you answered it, you were opening up a whole new door you weren’t sure you were ready for. Answering it was dangerous. If you ignored the call, you might finally be able to start your journey of moving on forever. You might finally have the chance of leaving him behind. Either way, this phone call was a very decisive moment for you. Whatever you decided to choose, you knew it was going to change your relationship with him forever.

So, what would it be? Would you open that door, or leave it shut forever? Deep down, before you even made your decision, you knew what you were going to do.

Your phone stopped buzzing.

It was quiet.

And then…

“Hey, Y/N.”

You smiled.

“Hey, Yeonjun.”

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ay0nha · 1 year

Text

Lament of My Heart | Joel Miller

SUMMARY: “Tommy…” Joel let out a breath of frustrated laughter. He disappointingly shook his head, leaning over you, “That boy doesn’t know what he’s lost.”

Set pre-episode four & post-episode five w/ moments of pre-outbreak

PAIRING: Joel Miller x femme!reader

WORD COUNT: 5.1K

WARNINGS: SMUT (hand job), mentions of blood, mutual pining/slow burnish, skinny dipping (of sorts), canon-typical things, mentions of Tommy x reader, etc.

A/N: Need to post this before it sits in the drafts to collect dust. Joel is just on my mind all the time, so this is the product of that. Thank you as always @from-the-clouds for listening to my blabbering and entertaining all my ideas! Much love.

“No more questions, Ellie,” You reprimanded her lightly, trying to cover the warmth she was discovering you felt. “Get some rest.”

Ellie was a hard-headed person with the responsibility of society on her shoulders. She carried the weight well, but she was still human, still young. But her questions revealed her growing creativity and sharp wit.

“Not tired.” She hated Joel’s coffee, but the stolen sips still coursed through her veins. You knew it was partly due to the anxiety ahead of them. They all felt it, that tense air of the unknown. “You two don’t seem to get along, though.”

Your eyes flashed to the rear view mirror on instinct. Settled on the truck’s dirty cushions and the supplies being used as a pillow, Joel was asleep. But you weren’t sure how long it would last.

“Ellie-

“It wasn’t a question!” She defended quickly, toying with the edge of her sleeve. She’d been dying to know just exactly why you got under Joel’s skin the way you did. “Tell me about Tommy, at least.”

“Ask Joel.” Your eyes were everywhere. You checked the mirror as if there was traffic, but it was the only thing that kept you occupied. She was making you squirm.

“C’mon, you know he won’t-” Ellie’s own frustrations were building up. In her shoes, you’d be just as curious. “Please.”

Through a thoughtful sigh, you resigned, “Before-We just- We’ve known each other for a long time.” You’d been intertwined with the Miller brothers since before everything. You rarely said it aloud, and now, you struggled to put all the history into something coherent. “I met Tommy when he returned from deployment-

“In Texas?” Ellie hung onto every word, mind spinning tales faster than you could keep up with. “Were you in the military too?”

“I said no questions.”

The comment made her smile. Ellie always appreciated a good game. Loopholes were her specialty.

“Fine, then.” She settled in the passenger seat, knees to her chest as she faced you, “You were discharged with Tommy with more medals than you could count!” Her posture then changed with inventive excitement, “Or maybe a bad-ass sniper with too many confirmed kills to count.” You wished your life was as exciting as she made it sound. “You’re going to have to stop me before I start thinking you led an elite hit squad.”

“Close.” You quipped, “I worked on the military base in town.” It was the first job that hired you and offered some stability for someone your age. “I’d help get soldiers back on their feet once they returned…”

“Then you became friends with Tommy,” Ellie encouraged you to continue. She couldn’t stand the lulls.

Too many years passed for you to remember clearly how you became close to Tommy, but at the time, he considered you his soulmate. Not that either of you really knew what that meant.

“Then I became friends with Tommy.” You nodded. You kept your eyes steady ahead, adding, “Joel, too.” Glancing at Ellie, you finished, “Then we all just…stuck together.”

Separation wasn’t ever questioned, even on the eve of all the destruction. That memory was vivid; the way your bloodied body held onto Joel, dragging him away from it all, Tommy trailing behind, surveilling every move. It was how you moved together for years, protecting each other as much as possible.

“He doesn’t talk about it; before,” Ellie commented lowly. You knew she wished for more from Joel. But she couldn’t see what you saw in the way he softened for her.

“That hasn’t changed with time.” Your words felt too bitter. This time you indulged in a glance at Joel. Still settled. “I’m surprised he’s even talking to me now.”

You always described the Miller brothers as a whirlwind. They may not have necessarily meant it, but they had a knack for sweeping you up and consuming you. When Joel came to you with Ellie, there was no question of whether you would help or not, just when and where you were needed.

He’d never leave without you.

“Tell me something about them...” Ellie pleaded. She was a clever girl who picked up on the weight of his misery. But it wasn’t yours to share. “Before they…before this.”

Your shoulders relaxed while your hands moved to the bottom of the steering wheel as you allowed yourself to filter through only the fond memories.

“Alright, well…” You hesitated with your words. Only because you knew, Joel would tell the story differently. “He and Tommy were wasted…I mean…Absolutely hammered that night.”

Your words had their desired effect, and Ellie’s giggles encouraged you to continue. But it felt strange to make Joel’s drinking habits sound so lighthearted when you know how the habit haunted him now.

“Tommy called me.” The phone in Joel’s kitchen woke you up that night well past the witching hour. “The brothers always got into all kinds of mischief, usually Tommy's fault.” You were typically by his side, provoking him. “Always Tommy’s fault.”

“He sounds fun.” Ellie joined in. You knew in another world, the two would get up to all kinds of mischief if they had the chance.

“He can be, when he wants.” You glanced at the map on your lap. With the sun getting low, it meant you needed to find a safe place to stop soon. “That night, though, the two of them had the bright idea to pretend to be bouncers, only to get into a fight with the actual ones.”

“I knew Joel wasn’t a total hard-ass.”

As you continued to retell the story, you hadn’t realized how much nostalgia you carried with you. Nor were you able to see how you talked so warmly of Joel. Ellie knew exactly what to say to get the information she wanted. But you waited a long time to reminisce freely.

“...When I finally got them home,” You blew a raspberry at the unforgettable effort it took. The stench of alcohol and smoke still made your nose scrunch. “Thank god Tommy had enough sense left to make it to the couch.”

Ellie loved how you teased Joel’s hiccuping that he blamed it on being over-served tequila. It was hard even to imagine he had any of that humor left in him. You embellished the story just enough to entertain yourself. But the story's core provided fertile ground for understanding that nothing you added was too far-fetched.

“They remembered nothing the next morning,” You said. “Tommy found all these numbers written on his arm, said he’d close his eyes and pick which to call.”

“....And Joel, he must have been so hungover…”

“You’d think…” You reflected flatly. “He just got up and went to work.”

From your side, you knew Ellie could sense you holding back. She’d gotten more than she asked for, so she left it. She could see how the echo of that night still felt fresh, doubting you provided her with the detailed ending you lived.

----

“You alright?” The question was slowly processed by Joel, who was trying to steady his breathing before the contents of his stomach came up.

“Yeah, yeah…” Joel held onto you every step, arm slung over your shoulders, making you sway with him with each step to his room.

He was mumbling while you settled him on the edge of his bed. You got every few words while focusing on preparing him for the next day. The brothers had work, and doing this would save you the headache of hearing their complaints.

“B-been thinkin’...” His Texan drawl was heightened as he slurred.

“That so?” You half-heartedly replied, rummaging through his medicine cabinet. You looked for something for the morning.

“Mhmm…”

You could hear him shuffling around in his room. Assuming he’d been pulling his boots off and discarding his jacket, you were surprised to find him leaning on the bathroom’s door frame.

“Then you’ve been hanging around Tommy too much.”

“Tommy…” Joel let out a breath of frustrated laughter. He disappointingly shook his head, leaning over you, “That boy doesn’t know what he’s lost.”

You still held love for Tommy, but you had mistaken it for something that it wasn’t. The two of you functioned better as friends; you were his confidant and partner in crime. Neither of you would change that for the world.

“And you do?”

Your relationship with Joel had a natural ebb and flow that could be but never got to the point of being volatile. But that didn't stop you from stepping on each other's toes, constantly being on the brink of an argument that neither of you knew the point of.

“Darlin’...” You melted his resolve, helping him the way you were. Joel’s eyes flickered down. Nothing about your outfit was seductive, but the way his eyes loitered told you maybe it had been. Covering his tracks seamlessly, Joel continued, “...The things you deserve.”

Your laugh bounced off the bathroom walls, resonating deep within Joel’s chest.

"What?" Joel asked lightly, his smile starting to mirror yours, but not understanding why, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

“Shit, Joel,” Your laughter lingered, “You must be really drunk.”

“C’mon now.” He tried to stop you. He wasn’t sure he could handle any level of ridicule from you.

But you pushed passed him, drawing his sheets back for the night to be over, “Let’s just get you to bed.”

He stumbled to you willingly, but you could see his mind turning. There was something he wanted off his chest, but you knew you weren’t ready to hear it.

“Come on now, Miller,” You tried again. “We’ve both got work in the morning.”

“What is it you do again?” Joel’s words played with chords of tension. “Besides eat all my food and sleep on my couch.”

"Get by." You joked more for your sake than his.

Joel’s eyes shifted between your own, pupils entirely dilated. Blaming it on the alcohol helped settle your stomach.

“I know y-you don’t stick around for my benefit.”

"God forbid we enjoy each other's company, Joel." Your eyes burned into his. You enjoyed your ability to make him bashful in his stupor. Just a look, and he was crumbling.

You saw it coming. You could have stopped it, but it wasn’t even the length of a decent kiss. It was soft and fleeting because you pulled back to never speak of it again. You doubted Joel remembered, but you could never be sure what he’d admit to.

----

“Did you ever-

“Ellie…” You said her name slowly in warning.

She retracted fast, “Joel and you-

“No.”

Your answer came off harshly. You knew where she wanted to go; she’d circled the topic for hours.

“Can I ask one question?”

“That was a question.” You looked at her again pointedly, “Shoot.”

“Why’d you stay in Boston?”

Sitting with the statement, you focused on the road. Most around you was barren and destroyed but offered an unconventional peacefulness. Sometimes you imagined if you’d be better off in isolation than in a QZ. But you could never bring yourself to just disappear like that.

“As hard as you might try,” You started, pulling the car to the side, “You can’t be alone in this world. With a purpose or not, it just doesn’t work.”

The sudden sway of the car disturbed the sleeping figure in the back. Joel attempted to hide his jolt as he sat up but was already looking out the window for trouble.

“We stoppin’?” Joel’s voice filled the car while the engine cooled.

Joel looked to you for reassurance. Ellie pointed that out to you, the way he valued you despite his resentment.

“We’ve gotten far enough today.” You tossed the keys back to him. “We need food and rest.”

“Alright.”

Your exchanges were clipped.

Yet, you valued the journey with Ellie. Selfishly, the task provided a reason to see Joel again. It had become easier to spend time apart. It became a habit. But even with a quiet meal shared and conversations led by Ellie, it felt good to be with him again.

The pressure shifted. No longer were ration cards on your mind, nor were the curfews you struggled to follow. Something about the night felt freeing despite the heavy responsibility that it meant. Maybe it was the privilege of feeling safe with Joel since he created a protective bubble, sacrificing his rest for yours.

You heard Joel get up when he thought yours and Ellie’s breathing steadied. You were going to leave it, but sleep was hard to come by with your mind racing.

Joel saw your shadow first. But the hand that brushed between his shoulder blades still made him flinch. He spoke in hushed tones, looking to ensure that Ellie was still asleep, “I hope you didn’t come over here to tell me we’re safe.”

“Didn’t say that.” You frowned. He knew you well; you wore your concerns on your face. You just wished he didn’t hold such defiance for them. “But we’ll be alright for the night-

“Don’t.”

Joel wanted to be in control of everything down to the smallest detail.

You knew it was a way of coping, his way, but it never sat right with you. Especially now, as you watched Joel scrutinize the area you chose, you could feel the criticism he was holding back from the moment you parked the car.

Did you even survey the terrain?

Too much open space. No clear route out.

You know better than this.

“We’re the perfect targets.”

“Joel-

“We know how this works,” He voiced over you. Even with you there, his surveillance didn’t change as he remained on a swivel. “It was exactly what we did.”

Joel’s emotions were catching up, but he still held onto a forced restraint. He was expecting resistance, an argument from you. But you heard what he said, how Ellie needed to hear it, to believe him.

No one’s gonna find us.

It was a promise. Something Joel was determined to control.

The wind was picking up the later the night became, and any rustle was faced with a gun barrel. It caused chills to litter your arms out of apprehension. You tried to comfort yourself with your arms tucked to your chest, but it only shifted Joel’s attention.

If you tried hard enough, you could guess what he would say to you. We need to stay sharp. You could feel Joel’s hesitation, though. It happened every time he pushed you away.

There was merit to your diversion, but Joel only allowed it for so long.

“Get some rest.” He nodded toward his forgotten sleeping bag, “No good if both of us are tired.”

----

The car was gone. The brief companions too. Your heart felt permanently caught in your throat. Adrenaline replaced everything. But it was wearing you thin.

“Where are you going?” Respite clung to Joel’s question as his eyes followed your figure up from his crouched position.

Like a cat, you stretched until something deep within your spine popped. You moved towards the shore of the small body of water you all settled by.

Time was at the forefront of Joel’s mind. Time was no longer on your side, meaning the sooner, the better pressured every minute. Daylight became the most valuable thing. And by the looks of it, you were on your way to wasting it.

“We smell, Joel.” You state as you discard the knife strapped around your waist. You were meant to be cleaning them in the water, preparing them for the next fight the way he had.

But your body was sore. You could imagine the pain Joel felt was much worse, physical or not. He put his body first rather than having you or Ellie be the brunt of it all.

Mornings were sacred to you. It was when the birds sang at dawn because the crisp, moist air carried their songs and their meanings farther through the same air that filled your lungs in fluid refreshment.

You pulled your shirt over your head and looped your thumbs in the waistband of your pants as you wiggled them over your thighs and down your legs.

For the moment, Joel’s eyes lingered. He looked for bites. He knew he wouldn’t find anything, but he had to be sure. Instead, Joel found deep hues of bruises still healing from Kansas City.

Almost wholly above the horizon, the sun highlighted the mist rising off the body of water. It veiled your body the closer you were to where the water and the rocks met. Yet, Joel watched on until your arms maneuvered behind your back, searching for the clasp of your bra.

As if the sun was directly in his eyes, Joel looked up, avoiding seeing something that wasn’t meant for him. Except, it didn’t stop him from passing along a warning, “Don’t go out far.”

The dirt from the past days felt like a second layer of skin had embedded into your own, suffocating you. You finally waded into the freezing water to rid yourself of it.

But not before throwing a comment over your shoulder, “Join me, then.”

Your words were like an idle threat that was only met with silence. You knew he was contemplating the offer. Always thinking.

The water was cold, goosebumps littering your skin within minutes and creating peaks where Joel refused to look. He scolded himself for the way his cock twitched at just the idea.

You leaned back so you were nearly floating on your back. Above, a bird glided hypnotically in a wide circle. It seemed you weren’t the only one seeking to rid yourself of a sense of weariness. The cool water swallowed you whole, caressing your skin and relaxing your muscles.

“Someone’s gotta stay with Ellie.” Joel voiced his decision. It was an excuse, what he was supposed to say.

There was no point in fighting it. Instead, you submerged yourself completely; the water consumed you. The longer you stayed under, the closer Joel edged to the water, ensuring you’d come up for a breath.

When you finally reemerged, you held a wicked grin.

“Don’t do that.” Joel frowned at your teasing. His eyes remained downcast, avoiding your eye. The rocks seemed more fascinating than how you became more siren-like by the minute. “I’m gonna find Ellie.”

“She deserves some privacy.” Despite her continuous puns, you were receptive to the fact that she was still impacted.

You all were.

Hyper vigilance became the enemy that threatened to consume Joel whole. Sleep was no longer negotiable. Every movement dragged worry, invited agitation, and controlled his violence. Joel’s chest was tight, and breathing felt hard to come by. He was moments away from unraveling.

“...There won’t be another invitation, Joel.”

Joel’s loaded gaze burned right through you as he took off his clothes. While he was busy shrugging out of his shirt, you took the opportunity to tread out further. Your back was to him, but you heard the swishing of disturbed water.

You reveled in the way your skin burned for him. He’d seen you naked years ago. But not like this, never like this.

----

Joel’s eyes followed the curve of your body. Your chest swayed as you moved around freely. His pounding heart clocked how too much time had passed for him to sneak out. He was frozen.

“You’re not Tommy.” You let out a breath of relief despite your surprise.

The lace rode high on your hips, accentuating your natural curve. Your chest was perked at the sudden attention of being caught so bare. Regardless of the incessant ringing in your ears, you stayed stone still, giving him a chance to say something.

Yet, he shook his head, backing out the door he’d come through, mumbling expected apologies. Joel used the key under the fern and let himself in.

For days he’d been asking Tommy for his tools back. And now, they were forgotten with each hurried step.

You threw on the closest shirt, chasing after him. “Wait!”

“I didn’t mean to-

“Joel, let me explain-

“No, I shouldn’t have-I-I’ll just-”

You found a way to stand before him, blocking his escape route perfectly. “Let’s just slow down…” Your hands were up in defense, mirroring his own. “It’s not what you think.”

Of all people, you wanted Joel to hear you. But the silence was heavy and lacked a proper explanation. You could see the flush that took over his coloring. It was sweet in a way, but you were too mortified to know what to make of it. It wasn’t exactly taught how to handle these sorts of things in school, so you stalled.

“Can I make you some coffee?” An invitation to linger.

Joel looked at you and saw your bare feet moving toward him with hope. He hadn’t meant to, but his eyes scanned your bare legs; the picture of the intricate fabric underneath the oversized shirt made his skin prick. It took him a moment to realize the shirt was his, one Tommy most likely nicked under his nose.

Doubting you knew what that did to him, Joel shook his head, “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

“One cup.” You promised.

The air was tense when you made it to the kitchen. You insisted on a fresh pot, but the drops felt like they took ages to fill it enough for its purpose. The hem of the shirt skirted the boundary of indecency, but you thought nothing of it. Your focus was on the longing stare Joel was giving you.

“Tommy and I…” You started with a shaky breath. You were sure Joel knew all about the drifting relationship. “I thought maybe this would…” It felt strange explaining yourself the way you had. But you wanted it to be known that even to you, it felt out of character. “He doesn’t look at me the same anymore…”

Your words feigned a sense of yearning. But neither you nor Tommy could keep up the act. Your words seemed heavy, but it was so alleviating to say aloud. To be listened to.

But the smell of coffee pulled you back, reminding you to be a good host. Filling the mugs just below the brim, you broke the small barrier of the kitchen island. You held the mug close to your chest, the warmth working as emotional support while Joel toyed with the ceramic handle.

You lifted the mug to your lips, blowing lightly over the piping-hot coffee, “...But neither do I.”

“I can talk to Tommy if you…” No matter how much it made Joel regret the offer, Joel said the right thing. He couldn’t meddle where he didn’t belong. “I’m sure he’d understand.”

You laughed into your mug. “I’d rather this stay our thing.”

“You say that like this is going to happen again.”

“Joel Miller.” You said his name after a pause. He looked like a child in trouble. “Are you flirting with me?”

“No, no, I-

“Joking.” You cut in just as awkwardly as he flushed.

You wanted the mood to lighten, needed it to.

But there was clumsiness in every movement, between your ongoing jitteriness and Joel’s restless fidgeting. So, you moved to the window. On the sill held your half-empty carton of cigarettes, the ones you were trying hard not to touch these days.

With a soft glance back to Joel, you asked, “Mind if I?”

Joel could spot the influences of Tommy in you. Or maybe you had passed along your habits. Either way, it was your home of sorts. Who was he to tell you no?

You had such dexterity with the process. It was like a ritual how you rolled the cigarette over your lips before lighting it. Then after a deep exhale, you utilized the perpetually open window to tap the beginnings of ash.

“I don’t mean to drag you into all of this…” You trailed off through an exhale of smoke through your nose. Joel could see the appeal now. “I just don’t-…Tommy’s my friend, and if I…I don’t know what’ll happen if we’re not…”

The end of something always hurt everyone around you. You all were just playing your roles in delaying the inescapable. But the questions of the future haunted you. You weren’t sure if you were ready to let it all go.

“I’ll let you leave…” You toyed with the lit cigarette that was on its last limb as you spoke. Joel’s silence was becoming deafening. “Promise I won’t hold you up any longer.”

You were sure he had more pressing matters than to comfort you through an inevitable breakup.

“Tommy’ll get over it.” Joel sat back with more relaxation now that he spoke his mind. “It’s you I’m worried about.”

----

Joel kept his distance deliberately. He made the venture into the water seem like another task. In and out.

“I don’t bite, you know.”

He knew you wouldn’t be able to stay quiet for too long. He knew what it meant to join you, but he made an effort to seem detached.

“Just giving you some privacy.” Joel echoed your words.

“Right.” Your frustration was clear. You carried it with you for the handful of days that passed. Your frustrations didn’t lie with him like Joel chose to believe.

Instead, guilt filled Joel’s chest. It had been gnawing at him since he left Boston. He should have left you there if he were as reliable as everyone claimed he was. You’d be without bruises. You’d be without his burden. Leaving without you meant there would be no return.

But you knew Joel. You had to remind yourself. You knew what he was thinking, what he wanted. That’s how you knew moving towards him would benefit the both of you.

You moved gradually, leading the interaction by brushing his hair behind his ears. The greys of his hair darkened with the water you carried on your fingertips. He looked younger. He looked like your Joel.

You reached for him, pulling him through the cool water to you. Joel was stiff when your chest met his warmly. He thought of pulling away, but you felt so peaceful that it swallowed him. Your arms wrapped around him with comfort. Your body settled in front of his, gently pressing your hips against him, giving him only an ounce of pressure to entice him.

He noted every twitch. Shyness wasn’t questioned; that barrier was broken years ago. It enabled you to trace his face. Every detail was already committed to memory.

You imagined what he’d say to you all those years ago—anything to make a smile crack.

Careful, now.

All you’re gonna find is a whole lot of ugly.

The scar above his eyebrow marked when your feelings for Joel first latched on. You were blinded by anger then, but the blood scared you. He promised you it was a graze and that he still had his life. But that wasn’t enough proof for you.

When your thumb traced over the faint line, Joel finally found his voice again, “Your shooting’s still sloppy.”

The look Joel held was intimidating, scrutinizing, but you knew he was trying to be witty.

“See now, when you say things like that…” You whispered softly due to the proximity, “I don’t regret shooting you.”

He hummed, appreciating your touch that ventured to his shoulders. You could feel under your hands the tension he held. You wanted nothing more than to provide relief.

“Joel.”

Just his name made your desire clear. He wanted to touch you all those years ago, but he’d never betray his brother like that. But now you invited him to you without any barriers. There was hesitancy in the hold Joel found on your hips. His mind wandered; wavered between the need and the want.

Starting at the swirl of hair on his chest, you followed the trail down until Joel’s breath hitched. Joel felt like he was about to lose it when your hand wrapped around him.

“This feel okay?” You moved your hand against him, slow and soft.

Water dripped from his nose to your shoulder as he nodded eagerly. His groan rumbled deep in his chest, vibrating against your own. You tread in dangerous territory but recognized the privilege of his trust.

This was for Joel. You needed this just as much as he did. You didn’t worry if it functioned as a thank you for keeping you alive, an apology for the trouble you’d caused him, or a confession of your own.

It didn’t matter when you indulged in your own lust.

“Do you think of me when you’re on your own?” You asked, fingers wrapped around his shaft, squeezing him until you felt his pulse in your grip.

“Oh- Fuck-” He cut himself off before he let a pet name slip. Joel’s fingers dug into the soft flesh of your hips, imprinting his touch into your skin, burned to your very bone.

“Hmm?” You edged him further. Gently, you continued to pump him and move your thumb over his tip.

Joel’s ragged breath fell on your pulse point with each moan as you continued to pump him rhythmically. His hand came up to your throat in a tender hold. His lips hover over yours but refrained from connecting.

It would be too intimate if you had.

“Do you want me to?” The hold gave him dominance even as he shuddered under your touch. Always desiring control.

The water around you rippled with your continued movements. With his free hand, his thumb rubbed gently at the sensitive skin that was near the pebbles of your breast, but he made no effort to touch it just yet. His words and touch were a deadly combination, the kind that made you ache.

“Would that be so bad?” You spoke on his lips, feeling the tickle of his mustache. The more you worked on his release the more you felt his warm pants turn into deep moans. “Come on now, Miller,” You coaxed softly, moving up and down his length with a lively pattern, teasingly and tauntingly. “Tell me.”

Joel’s words were caught in his throat as ecstasy flowed through his veins as the pleasure crashed. His hips jerked against you as his breathing became ragged and his moans became filthy.

He sighed with relief, abandoning himself. He groaned into you, nuzzling his nose in your neck as the aftershocks made him tremble. He could feel your hand threading in his hair, keeping him in your tight embrace.

“Yes.”

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wrishwrosh · 3 months

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hey, i find your posts about historical fiction pretty interesting, do you have any recs?

anon this is the most beautiful and validating ask i have ever received. absolutely of COURSE I have recs. not gonna be a lot of deep cuts on this list but i love all of these books and occasionally books do receive awards and acclaim because they are good. in no particular order:

the cromwell trilogy by hilary mantel. of course i gotta start with the og. it’s 40 million pages on the tudor court and the english reformation and it will fundamentally change you as a person and a reader

(sub rec: the giant, o’brien by hilary mantel. in many ways a much shorter thematic companion to the cromwell trilogy imo. about stories and death and embodiment and the historical record and 18th century ireland. if you loved the trilogy, read this to experience hils playing with her own theories about historical fiction. if you are intimidated by the trilogy, read this first to get a taste of her prose style and her approach to the genre. either way please read all four novels ok thanks)

lincoln in the bardo by george saunders. the book that got me back into historical fiction as an adult. american history as narrated by a bunch of weird ghosts and abraham lincoln. chaotic and lovely and morbid.

the everlasting by katy simpson smith. rome through the ages as seen by a medici princess, a gay death-obsessed monk, and an early christian martyr. really historically grounded writing about religion and power, and also narrated with interjections from god’s ex boyfriend satan. smith is a trained historian and her prose slaps

(sub rec: free men by katy simpson smith. only a sub rec bc i read it a long time ago and my memory of it is imperfect but i loved it in 2017ish. about three men in the woods in the post revolutionary american south and by virtue of being about masculinity is actually about women. smith did her phd in antebellum southern femininity and motherhood iirc so this book is LOCKED IN to those perspectives)

a mercy by toni morrison. explores the dissolution of a household in 17th century new york. very different place and time than a lot of morrison’s bigger novels but just as mean and beautiful

(sub rec: beloved by toni morrison. a sub rec bc im pretty sure everyone has already read beloved but perhaps consider reading it again? histfic ghost story abt how the past is always here and will never go away and loves you and hates you and is trying to kill you)

an artist of the floating world by kazuo ishiguro. my bestie sir kazuo likes to explore the past through characters who, for one reason or another (amnesia, dementia, being a little baby robot who was just born yesterday, etc), are unable to fully comprehend their surroundings. this one is about post-wwii japan as understood by an elderly supporter of the imperial regime

(sub rec: remains of the day by kazuo ishiguro. same conceit as above except this time the elderly collaborator is incapable of reckoning with the slow collapse of the system that sheltered him due to britishness.)

the pull of the stars by emma donoghue. donoghue is a strong researcher and all of her novels are super grounded in their place and time without getting so caught up in it they turn into textbooks. i picked this one bc it is a wwi lesbian love story about childbirth that made me cry so hard i almost threw up on a plane but i recommend all her histfic published after 2010. before that she was still finding her stride.

days without end by sebastian barry. this one is hard to read and to rec bc it is about the us army’s policy of genocide against native americans in the 19th century west as told by an irish cavalry soldier. it is grim and violent and miserable and also so beautiful it makes me cry about every three pages. first time i read it i was genuinely inconsolable for two days afterwards.

this post is long as hell so HONORABLE MENTIONS: the amazing adventures of kavalier & clay by michael chabon, the western wind by samantha harvey, golden hill by frances spufford, barkskins by annie proulx, postcards by annie proulx, most things annie proulx has written but i feel like i talk about her too much, the view from castle rock by alice munro, the name of the rose by umberto eco, tracks by louise erdrich

#honestly will probably be coming back with additions bc this is just based on whats currently on my bookshelf #made this post while staring at the copy of mirror & the light i keep on my desk as some kind of hilary mantalisman #send me your address so i can explain my passions etc etc #histfic

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bettyfrommars · 6 months

Text

I'm on Fire

biker!eddie x fem!reader

Part 16: All Along the Watchtower

series masterlist playlist

18+ONLY

There is a lot of healing in this chapter, some smut and allusions to smut, alcohol consumption, lots of love, but also some new characters drop into the scene and there will be some angst at the end. If you have come this far in the story, you know what to expect. There will be song lyrics from the band Tool. Steve with an OC character. Mention of healing wounds, a dead body, chemo treatments, and plenty of unprotected sex.

word count: 6.8k

a/n: I mentioned in a post the other day that, instead of 2 final chapters of 10-11k, that I'd be splitting them up and doing four more posts with less words, so there will be several more parts to come. I know it's been almost 2 months since the last chapter, but I'm looking forward to giving this most of my attention for the rest of the year. I have so much love for those of you who are still with me.

"There must be some kind of way outta here Said the joker to the thief There's too much confusion I can't get no relief..."

-- Jimi Hendrix, All Along the Watchtower

The aftermath of everything that conspired in the parking lot that night was a whirlwind.

There were way too many witnesses for the cops not to get involved, but there was also an underlying mutual respect for an outlaw level of revenge justice when someone hurts one of your own. When bystanders and club members were questioned as to who made the final killshot, there was a contagious memory loss that made everyone shrug and shake their heads.

Collectively, no one saw anything.

Everyone saw Wayne, but also—no they did not.

Wayne was going through chemo treatments and hadn’t been an active member of the club for years; no one in law enforcement would ever expect him to be involved, and everyone silently agreed to keep it that way.

Charlene caught a stray bullet in the shoulder, and even lied straight-faced to the police about what had happened. She waited for someone to blame her, somehow, for Craig’s death, but no one pointed fingers, they all just acted like their memories had been erased. Inside the ambulance on the gurney, she caught Steve looking across the parking lot at her just before the EMT’s shut the doors. His expression remained unresponsive, but he stood and watched the vehicle leave the premises before turning to limp over to Astrid’s truck.

Steve was not in great shape, either, and he almost fell twice when he first tried to stand. Robin caught him on the second stumble and had him brace his arm around her shoulders. The EMT’s tried to get Steve to the hospital, but he refused. Partially because he hated hospitals, and also because there’s no way he could afford a meat wagon escort, let alone whatever bill he racked up while in their care. A handful of ibuprofen, a bag of frozen peas, and some patched together magic from Astrid’s medical bag would have to do.

Before the medics arrived, Eddie grabbed his leather jacket out of one of the saddlebags on his bike and had it wrapped around your shoulders as he pinned you close to him with both arms, as tight as he could without hurting you. “Baby baby baby I’m here, I’m here…never gonna let you go…” he hushed it over and over, trying to calm himself as much as you. You found his eyes were wet when he tipped your chin up gently with his finger, pressing kisses across your skin that was sprinkled with dried blood. He parted your mouth with his tongue, just slightly, letting it graze your top lip. His voice trembled when he said he loved you before sealing the words with another soft kiss.

Still observing from the steps of the hotel, Melanie watched the interaction between you and Eddie, and the realization that he would never be hers ever again finally sank in, hitting the pit of her stomach like a lead weight.

Eddie sat next to you on the back of Hopper’s Bronco and held your hand while you told the Chief about your abduction. Anger curled Eddie’s lip when you recited the horrific events, and his eyes narrowed on Craig getting zipped into a body bag, wishing it were possible to kill someone for a second time.

You sprained your ankle, and had a few surface cuts and bruises, but most of your trauma was internal. You told Eddie you were fine, but he wouldn’t rest until the EMT’s checked you out.

Eddie got the shower temperature at your place just right before helping you in with him so that he could gently wash the blood from your face and shampoo your hair. He took his time soaping every part of you; even had you put all of your weight on him so he could clean your feet with meticulous precision, being extra careful with your bad ankle. He wanted every trace of Craig and all that had happened to be washed away. You swept his wet hair back from his face as he stood to full height, and wrapped your arms around his neck to bring his forehead to yours.

Things got slippery and before you knew it, you were moving Eddie’s hand down between your legs as the steam rose up around you. He didn’t think you’d be ready, not after such a traumatic experience, but then he could feel the slick that had nothing to do with shower water. He ran his big, calloused fingers through your folds, and then worked that button at the top of your slit until it hardened under his fingertips.

You clung to him, letting go of erotic sighs between deep, sensual kisses that felt like you needed each other’s oxygen to survive. “I’ve missed you so much,” you said into the crook of his neck, grabbing the hard curve of his cock to pump at the tip.

“Let me take care of you, baby,” he hushed, dipping two of his fingers inside to give your muscles something to clench around.

A few deep thrusts and then he spun you around, holding you tight so that you wouldn’t slip. The fingers of one hand found your clit again, rolling in circles there, while his other hand came up to cup your breast and pluck at your nipple. You shuddered and tilted your head back so he could suck and nibble at your throat.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured. “I’m going to spend the rest of my life making you mine.”

You writhed in his arms, reaching back to hold his head, while his fingers kept pace and your cunt fluttered. You could feel your knees giving way.

“That’s right, my baby, give it all to me.”

“Fuck!” One more whimper and the orgasm shattered you, making you tremble and sink against him. The thought never occurred to you that you would fall because he had you locked so tight in his embrace.

His hard length rested between your asscheeks, and you turned around to take it into your hand and face him. He held your chin and found your mouth again, pitching his hips into your hand until ropes of his cum were shooting against your leg and into the tub. You took the head of his cock and rubbed it along your slit to spread his seed there, and then took your fingers into your mouth and sucked them clean. Eddie groaned at the sight, grabbing your face again to kiss you long and hard.

The rest of the sex that night was slow and tender, full of breathy words of devotion as your bodies met and became one. Fingers laced, and your legs wrapped around him. Eddie rolled his hips so that you could feel every inch of him inside of you, and you matched his movements, watching his eyes flutter before they opened to meet yours again, lips grazing. For a moment, it was hard to tell where he ended and you began, and you wanted to stay like that forever.

Even though Craig was gone, Eddie was still reluctant to leave you, and he came by several times a day while he was working the tow truck. He brought you soup from the diner, and picked up a potted plant, because he didn’t want you to have to watch flowers die in a vase. He even got special tuna treats for Charlie and stopped off to rent videos for you to watch with you on the couch after he showered and returned from his place.

Besides the time it took to talk to Katie and let her know what happened before she went over to Robin’s, Eddie was the only person you interacted with for the week before it was time to go back to work. You tried to return sooner, but Shana refused. You needed the loud music and the crowds of the Velvet Hammer, they were such a welcome distraction from your thoughts.

It was a part of Eddie’s routine to buy groceries for Wayne every so often, now that he didn’t have as much energy because of chemo, much like Wayne used to do for him back when he was a kid, and his dad would disappear for months at a time. You pulled together the ingredients for one of your grandmother’s favorite casserole dishes and made dinner for them both at the trailer one night, sipping on wine, and listening to your boyfriend and his uncle reminisce on stories from back in the day.

You were taking everyone’s dishes to the sink when you heard Wayne say to Eddie, “that one is a keeper,” and it made your eyes water, for whatever reason. Maybe because you know how much his uncle’s opinion meant to him.

—----

Steve had to be back at work the same night as you, and an hour before, Astrid straddled his lap in one of her silk robes to apply some ointment on his face while he ran his scarred hands up and down her bare thighs. Her skin was soft and smelled of cocoa butter, and her long, curly hair draped over their shoulders like a curtain to keep them safe.

“Don’t punch anyone tonight, okay?” She whispered, scooping hair behind his ear as she tended to the ugly gash on his cheek under the ugly yellow coloring around his eye. “Your fingers need a chance to heal.”

Steve had been at her place on and off since the incident. He’d stay the night, and then be up before the crack of dawn to be back at the house when Oliver woke up. For the first time ever, he canceled a few tattoo appointments so that he could get the rest that the girls had been begging him to take. He hated not having something to do; it made him bounce his knee and grind his teeth so that the muscles in his jaw bulged.

Steve worked a piece of gum inside his mouth and took in Astrid’s face from under hooded eyes, scooting her hips flush to his body, digging his fingers into the meat of her thighs. “Why don’t you come by and see me tonight? I’ll buy you a drink. Maybe I’ll put you on the sink in the bathroom and have some fun like old times.”

One side of her full mouth lifted in a grin. “Tempting,” she leaned in to touch her nose to his. “But I think I might sit this one out.”

“You can sit it out on my face, sugar,” he brought the bright green gum between his front teeth and held it there until she took the chewed piece into her own mouth.

“We’ll see,” and then she slid off of him, resisting his tug on her arm to pull her back down.

He rolled his head along the back of the couch, watching her walk behind him. “Can I at least have my gum back?”

“No,” she answered flatly, disappearing into the kitchen.

—-----

You and Eddie rolled up to the Velvet Hammer just after Steve, and he was finishing a smoke, still straddling his bike in the parking lot when he offered you a raised eyebrow and a two-finger wave. Eddie slid into the spot next to him, facing the red brick exterior, and shut the engine off, planting his feet on either side to keep the beast steady.

“What is this? Bring your old man to work day?” Steve snaked his tongue out over his bottom lip, exhaling smoke from his nose. He had his sunglasses pushed up on his head, squinting against the glow of the sunset, one arm crossed over his chest.

You giggled to yourself while you dismounted, pulling your leg through to avoid the sissy bar that had been at your back. You were used to Steve and his banter. If he was teasing you, it meant he cared about you; it was a bit of a rite of passage. He’d never admit it out loud, but you were special to him now—you were family, and he would look after you like he looked after his own.

“Well,” Eddie took his helmet off and tucked some hair behind his ear, giving his friend a pointed look. “I hear that the security here really sucks.”

“I told him he didn’t have to babysit me tonight,” you piped up, adjusting the backpack on your shoulder that had all of your work clothes inside. Eddie curled his fingers at you, asking for your helmet, so you passed it to him. “But, what can I say? He’s growing on me,” and then you pressed up against his chest, making him puff air out of his nose at the sudden contact, and you kissed the side of his neck.

“I’ll grow for you sweetheart, if you keep it up,” he mumbled.

Steve snorted and threw the butt of his smoke to the pavement. A wave of sudden melancholy washed over him at the sight of the two of you.

He’d been battling with himself the past few days, fighting the urge to call Charlene, to make sure she was okay, even though he hated her guts for what she’d tried to do to his family and everyone else. There was a deep pit of loneliness in her, and when he’d stared into the void, the void had stared back. He recognized a part of himself in her, like a dark foreshadowing for his life 15 years down the road. A life of jumping from partner to partner, trying to gather every crumb of attention because he refused to let one person love him. He told himself that Robin and Oliver were all he needed, but one day Robin would have her own life with a partner, perhaps with Katie, and Oliver would move out and become his own person. He thought about Astrid, and how his mere presence in her life held her back from finding someone who could commit to her and give her the comfortable life she deserved.

“See you inside, freaks,” Steve pulled his sunglasses down over his eyes and favored his right leg with a hitch and a hop on his way to the building, making his wallet chain bounce out to the side.

“Should he be riding his motorcycle with that bad leg?” You asked with your mouth on the leather of Eddie’s shoulder.

“Probably not,” Eddie breathed, watching his friend go. “But you can’t tell Steve shit.”

Eddie escorted you to the back door in the alley and waited for you to be inside before he went around to the front to take the bar entrance. He didn’t plan to stay the whole night, he’d leave for a bit in the middle of your shift and go do some work a the shop, but the fear of losing you—as he had so many people in his life—was still lingering like barbs in his heart, and he only hoped you didn’t get tired of him being around all the time.

In the narrow locker room, you shared a space with Jackie who was also getting ready for her shift. She hugged you violently, and it startled you, because she was not prone to physical displays of affection.

“Bitch, you had me scared to death,” she gushed. “I almost puked from relief when they said you were okay.”

She had her heels on and her already tall, voluptuous frame towered over you. “I missed you too, hooker,” you gave a lopsided grin once she stepped back to look at your face, noting the healing cuts over your lip and eyebrow. “You think my battle scars will milk some extra tips out of people tonight?”

The comment made Jackie scoff a laugh, but her eyes were glossy with emotion, giving a few light squeezes to your shoulders. “You sure you’re good to work tonight? I know Shana would let me cover for you.”

You heaved a long sigh and clanked the metal of your locker open. “The last thing I need is to be at home with my wheels spinning for another night.” Everyone was treating you like glass, and all you wanted was to feel normal again.

Even though you were relieved that the terror that Craig had put you through in your life was finally over, you mourned his death in your own way. He had a mother and a sister out there somewhere who loved him very much and would be devastated by his passing. You’d also never watched someone get shot and killed right in front of you before, and you hoped that you never had to see such a thing again.

Jackie adjusted her red and black Velvet Hammer cap sleeve tee that was tucked into her leather miniskirt, and moved over to apply her maroon lipstick in the mirror, making her mouth into an O shape. The music from the main room was loud when someone opened the hallway door to head over to the kitchen. “That guy John was here asking about you the other day. Remember the big tipper who wanted to be your sugar daddy?”

“I think so,” You said it absently, as if you weren’t sure, pulling your tiny red shorts up your legs.

“He came in alone, sat at the bar for a drink, and I overheard him asking about you, if you were okay,” she unzipped her purse and dug through it. “I guess he heard about what happened.”

Yes, you imagined that he had heard about what happened. You wondered how much Charlene had told him.

Jackie punched her beige time card into the machine on the wall and you followed suit, deep in thought over why John was trying to track you down at the Hammer instead of calling you on the phone.

“Honestly, I’ve missed the fuck out of you,” Jackie said over her shoulder, pulling open the hallway door to the sea of cigarette smoke and the song Wave of Mutilation by The Pixies. “The new girl gets on my nerves.”

You barely had time to ask who the new girl was before a familiar face framed by a platinum blonde bob stood in your path wearing a matching shirt with a tray full of what looked like Jägermeister shots.

It was Erika.

“Oh, you must be the new girl,” you were a bit flustered, but on your list of worries, she was very low. You could tell she was nervous to see you, and wobbled the tray, chewing her gum nervously.

“I hope you don’t mind,” she said in a rush. “That I got a job here, I mean. My sister is friends with Shana and I really needed the money because—-”

You shook your head and gave her a genuine smile that harbored no animosity. “Of course I don’t mind,” you shuffled around her to get to the bar, thinking about how she seemed a bit afraid of you, and there was no need to be. “Did you say hi to Eddie? He’s here.” You reached around to tie a short apron with pockets around your hips.

Her mouth gaped like a dying fish a few times. “Well, I, no…not yet…I mean, I won’t, if you don’t want me to.”

“I don’t mind,” you glanced up and caught Eddie’s eye at the bar. You thought about all of the obstacles, all of the crap life had tried to throw your way to tear the two of you apart, and you’d both weathered the storm to find you were closer than ever. You trusted Eddie with your life, and you knew that he only had eyes for you—he proved it to you every day.

“I wanted you to know that what you did the other night was really badass,” Erika leaned in, eyes sparkling when they met yours. And there it was, an understanding, a mutual truce, an unlikely friendship broadening on the horizon.

Well, a friendship was unlikely, but a truce, at least.

You didn’t know how to take the compliment, but you thanked her, and told her that you liked her earrings, and then you winked at Eddie before heading over to check on your first table. He was at the bar having a Coke and talking to Thumper, who was also a patron that evening, and you could see that he was nodding, pretending to hear what his friend was saying, but all the while, his attention kept shifting to you.

It was one of the last warm nights before the fall weather hit, and so Steve was sitting on his stool out on the pavement, propping the door open with the weight of his back. He surprised himself by realizing he wasn’t in a flirtatious mood. A few hotties who smelled like heaven were basically ready to gobble him up if he let them, but he barely gave their ID’s a glance and waved them through.

He had a thick rubber band from the cash register that he was playing with, stretching it wide with his thumbs. Caught up in one of his daydreams, the rubber band accidentally shot out and almost nailed the person who was stepping up onto the sidewalk.

Astrid ducked just in time for it to zing through her hair instead of nailing her cheek.

Steve experienced a bolt of recognition a second too late and was on his feet, almost knocking the stool over. “Shit, baby, I’m sorry,” but then she started laughing, and they were both smiling when they kissed, teeth knocking together.

She took two steps back so that his eyes could drink her in; the dark maroon dress with a slit up the thigh and generous scoop neck, it was one of her many handmade pieces to make room for her ample hips and hourglass shape. Instead of a shawl, she had on a jean jacket this time, fingers and ears adorned in subtle gold jewelry.

He pushed some thick curls away from her face and planted his lips on her forehead as he spoke. “I missed you.”

“You just saw me a few hours ago,” she tilted her head back to lock her dark eyes onto his. “I came to make sure you behave yourself.”

His smile was rueful—dangerous, even. He wiped his tongue over the point of his gold tooth. “You can’t come here in a dress like that and expect me to behave, sweetheart.”

A group of partiers went to try and stumble through the door, but Steve was quick to shove his hand against the doorframe, blocking them with his tattooed arm. “Need to see ID’s first,” his tone was suddenly that of gruff, tough bouncer Steve, and not the sweet little loverboy from a few seconds ago.

Once he’d given them all a stern look, he hurried back to grab for Astrid’s hands again, rubbing his thumbs over her knuckles. “What’s your poison tonight darlin’? Just tell Shana to put it on my tab.”

She wasn’t about to let Steve pay for her drinks, but she nodded. He tucked a padded stool from the bar just inside the door close to him while she was ordering her gin and tonic, giving Eddie a shoulder squeeze as she waited. When she looked over at Steve again, he patted the seat a few times eagerly so that she would know where to go.

—-------

A while later, as the bar filled up, Eddie was moving his head to the beat of the Muddy Waters tune “I’m your hoochie coochie man” when you came over to give him a back scratch and tuck his hair so you could smooch his ear. The 1958 film The Crawling Eye was playing on the screen above the bar.

“What do you say? Can I be your hoochie coochie man, babe?” he muttered. And then, dropping his gaze to his drink he added softly: “My mom loved Muddy Waters.”

One of the many layers you had yet to peel back on the onion of Eddie Munson was his relationship, or lack thereof, with his mother. You always got the feeling that he didn’t want to talk about it, but more and more, you could feel him opening up on the subject and referencing her, wanting to finally let you know more about that facet of his life. From Robin you knew that she passed away when he was young, but that was the extent of it.

“Your mom had good taste,” you tipped his chin so that he could see your sincerity. “I wish I could’ve met her.”

“Me too,” he blinked his glossy chocolate eyes a few times and took a hard gulp. “I think I might head over to the garage for a couple hours, but I’ll be back to pick you up.”

“You should stay,” Shana, sporting a freshly shaved head and a new tattoo just above her ear, slapped the flat of her hand on the wood of the bar in front of him to get his attention, and then she gestured to the stage. “Divine Filth is playing tonight.”

You could tell that finding out that one of the local bands, Divine Filth, was playing at the Hammer was a welcome surprise for Eddie when you saw his face light up. They were another metal/rock band from a few towns over, you found out, and one of his friends was the lead singer. They’d played dozens of shows with Corroded Coffin over the years, and Eddie used to play lead on a few songs with them.

“They just got back from Pedal to the Metal,” Shana continued. Even you knew that Pedal to the Metal was a huge 3-day rock festival that happened every year up near Chicago, and even Eddie’s band had played there once.

You saw that Eddie was contemplating the news, and weighing his options, gnawing on his bottom lip. You decided to slide down closer, resting your elbow on the bar. “Can’t whatever you have to do at the garage wait? Or maybe one of the guys can handle it? I’d love for you to stay.”

His eyes snapped to yours, and his response was quick. “Yeah, I mean, I’ll stay if you want me to.”

That was all he ever wanted, for you to tell him what you needed. For you to say that you needed him.

You put your forehead to his, fingers twirling in the baby hairs at his neckline. “Stay and be my hoochie coochie man.”

He mouthed a few words to the song against your lips before sinking in for a kiss.

Then, he pushed his soda aside and ordered a beer. Thumper caught wind that he suddenly had a drinking buddy and gave the signal for two shots of “their finest”.

—-----

Meanwhile, at the other end of town, Katie was at Robin’s again. She’d been staying there every night since it all happened. Partly to give you and Eddie some space, but also, on her trip, she’d realized that she didn’t want to be away from her girlfriend any longer than she had to.

She was in love, like head over heels, for the first time in her adult life.

Once Oliver was fast asleep in his bedroom, the two were hustling to take their clothes off, gushing words of love in breathy whispers in the dark, needing to be as close together as possible. Robin was three fingers deep when Katie admitted that she’d never loved anyone this much before, and it made Robin go still, to ask her if she meant it, and to tell her she felt the same.

After their orgasms, Robin was straddling Katie’s lap, tasting her own release on her girlfriend’s tongue, when she decided to finally open up about what had been on her mind lately.

She’d meant to work it into conversation, but instead, she blurted it: “Do you want to move in here? With me…with us?” Her mouth dried up after she asked it, wondering if it was too soon, too ridiculous. She swallowed hard, making a click noise in her throat. “I talked to Steve about it. I haven’t talked to Oliver yet, but I will.”

Katie bucked her hips up so that their swollen lips brushed together, still dripping with cum. She was quiet as she let the idea sink in.

Robin tucked some hair behind her ear and glanced down, reading her silence wrong. “I know it’s not a huge house, and we only have the one bathroom, and I get that it’s not very glamorous to shack up with a woman who already has a kid and a life partner. But I think that I, I think that we, could—”

“You know I’m not the glamorous type,” the other woman interrupted, catching Robin’s chin to run her thumb along her bottom lip. She locked eyes with her. “We could always get a bigger house one day, down the road, all of us. I’m not worried about that.”

“So, you’ll think about it down the road, maybe?”

“Robs, I don’t want to spend another night without you in my bed.”

“You don’t?” She was surprised, but also, not sure if she’d answered her yet or not.

Other than her brother Dan who lived across the country, and a mother she’d never been close with, Katie had rarely known the comforts of family, but she had found what she’d always been missing within the cleave of the Harrington-Buckley clan. It wasn’t a living situation that would suit everyone, but the idea of making a life in that corner of the world had her insides glowing. She’d need to discuss it with you, and give you plenty of notice if you were okay with it. The way things were going with you and Eddie, Katie had a good feeling that the two of you were considering the same merging of households, anyway.

“I’d understand if you didn’t want to. I know this is an unconventional situation, and I wouldn’t blame you for—”

Katie cut her off and put her hands on either side of Robin’s face. Her words bubbled in her chest, a smile soft on her lips. The “yes” she spoke was followed by a nudge of the nose, a suck on her bottom lip, and then she was repeating it over and over as Robin pushed her to the bed and got on top of her.

—--------

You were able to catch the way Eddie’s demeanor softened once he started to relax and ease into the evening. He was laughing at Thumper’s theatrics, chuckling so hard, the apples of his cheeks turned pink. Steve led Astrid by the hand to one of the only two bathrooms at one point, and the next thing you knew, there was a line of 3 or 4 people waiting to use it, so you had to give the door a polite knock, loud enough to be heard over the Jimi Hendrix song that was playing.

Astrid came out adjusting her dress, with no lipstick on, and Steve followed, wiping his mouth suspiciously, and palming the bulge in his jeans. He chuckled at the way your head was cocked, and mumbled a cheeky, “I was on my break,” before heading back to his stool.

When the members of Divine Filth showed up from the back entrance with their instruments, you could tell who the lead singer was immediately; she had a distinct presence. She was small but poised, hair dyed black with one side of her head shaved, and the other side long down to her shoulders. She had on leather pants and a ripped shirt cropped at her waist, with tattoos on her biceps.

She looked around the room, taking stock of the place as the other members went to set up. You were standing to full height after setting some drinks down at a table full of Hell’s Belles when you watched her spot Eddie.

She let out a squeal and headed over to him with a bounce in her step. Eddie sprang off of his stool to return her embrace, lifting her up off her feet in an enthusiastic hug. The second her feet touched the ground again, Eddie was waving you over, wanting to introduce you.

“This is my girl,” he pulled you flush to his side the second you were within arms reach. “Baby, this is my friend Nancy, the lead singer of Divine Filth.”

Nancy Wheeler stuck her hand out for you to shake and told you that she’d already heard a lot about you.

“Yeah, from who?” Eddie was curious because it had been almost a year since he’d talked to Nancy.

“Robin,” she said, and of course, Eddie should have known. She shrugged, “we catch up every now and then. Steve gave me some new ink a few months ago.”

There was melancholy in her voice, and you’d find out later that Robin and Nancy had a brief thing once, back in high school, back when they were always in detention together for destroying school property. Nancy was a pyro in her own right. She had fond memories of letting Steve practice tattooing on both her and Robin in her parents basement while drinking beers they stole from the QuikMart.

“Robin couldn’t make it out tonight,” Eddie let her know in a cautious tone, wondering if she’d had her hopes up.

“Oh I know, she told me,” she said in a rush. “She’s with someone and she’s happy and I’m happy for her.” And if she wasn’t, I’d do something about it, she thought to herself.

You couldn’t tell if she meant every word, or if she was trying to convince herself as she spoke them.

“So, big boy,” Nancy put a hand on her hip, wanting to change the subject, and raised an eyebrow at Eddie, clapping him on the arm. “You going to grace us with your presence on stage tonight?”

Eddie immediately started shaking his head to decline, but you were quick to turn to him with those wide, hopeful eyes, and it made him pause. “Maybe,” he mused, noting your intense interest, and then turned his attention back to Nancy. “My girl has never seen me play before.”

“No shit?” Nancy was genuinely surprised, jaw going slack. “Dude, your man kills it up there. He’s got star power, and I wish he’d get his head out of his ass and come out to do more shows with us.”

“Yeah, well, there’s a little thing called running your own business, and I don’t recommend it,” Eddie grumbled, as one hand reached for the next beer Thumper was passing him and the other smoothed circles on your back.

There were tables waiting, and more people coming in, so you excused yourself and snaked your arm out from around Eddie. He took hold of the back of your neck and guided you back to kiss the side of your head one more time before you were out of reach again.

There was one dancer shimmying down the pole to the song Stinkfist by Tool, and it was the last performance of the evening before Divine Filth started their set. Nancy was up on the stage riser helping to situate things where she wanted them, and the tips were flowing into your pockets just as fast as patrons were knocking back shots. The front door that had once been propped open by Steve’s body was shut now, locking the bar in a dim, red glow, billowing in a smog of nicotine fumes.

“… Just not enough, I need more

Nothing seems to satisfy

I said, I don't want it, I just need it

To breathe, to feel, to know I'm alive…”

Astrid had gone home by then, and Thumper was casually watching the door as Steve made his way over to see Nancy, and every time the door opened, you took a deep breath of the fresh air, trying to clean out your lungs. This time, when you felt the gush of cool breeze flush your skin, you were on the way across the room with a drink order, and you absently looked up to see who was coming in.

“… Finger deep within the borderline

Show me that you love me and that we belong together

Relax, turn around and take my hand…”

You stopped in your tracks when you saw who it was, one foot paused in the air behind you, mid-stride.

There, silhouetted against the backdrop of the street, stood Charlene.

The black bodysuit she had on made her look like Sandy from Grease, but her shoulder was wrapped in a bandage, and standing next to her was a guy in a red shirt, jeans, a wallet chain, and a leather MC kutte with the insignia for Lucifer’s Own on it. He was maybe 30, looked like a blonde version of Rob Lowe, and he had his elbow out for Charlene to hold onto.

Now, you didn’t know all of the politics about biker etiquette, or any “turf” battles like they sang and danced about in musicals, but it was well known that the Hammer was a Coffin Kings bar, and you’d never seen another insignia step foot in the door, other than Hell’s Belles and Eastside Reapers, since you’d started working there.

Thumper caught sight of the guy who had just come in the door and spun on his stool, about to stand up, but Eddie snatched his arm, and you were sure he stiffly told him to sit back down. Eddie found your eyes over a few shoulders that were pressed together in the crowd, and you exchanged a weary look of disbelief.

The blonde biker gave Thumper a feral grin, wiggling the tip of his tongue between his teeth. Charlene seemed more reserved than normal, not as full of herself, and she was very preoccupied with searching the sea of bodies.

You had a good feeling who she was looking for.

You were glad that Erika was there to motion them over to a table that she had just cleaned off. It was in the corner, further away from the bar.

You were just about to go over to ask Eddie who Charlene was with when a customer blocked your path and gave you a multiple drink order out of the blue, and you had to tell them to give you a second while you caught your bearings.

Now you were trying to see where Steve was, to play interference, but it was too late.

“… I can help you change

Tired moments into pleasure

Say the word and we'll be

Well upon our way

Pain and comfort, deep within you

Till you will not want me any other way...”

You spun on your heel to find that Steve had already spotted the newcomers. You watched the muscles in his face tense, standing with his fists balled at his sides for a few seconds, and then Eddie was there, in his face, pushing him back, trying to get him to keep his cool.

The blonde biker at Charlene’s table put his feet up on the seat next to him and lit a cigarette, seemingly without a care in the world.

“It’s not worth it, man,” Eddie grumbled to Steve, holding his hand on chest. “Let’s just have a good time tonight, forget about them.”

Steve’s eyes were locked in the distance, sunglasses now hooked onto the front of his shirt. “What the fuck is she doing here with Billy Hargrove?”

“Who knows what kind of game she’s playing,” he moved to try and block Steve’s view of them. “Listen, if he crosses a line, we’ll bounce him, otherwise we let it ride, got it? There’s too many eyes on us here tonight to cause a scene, especially after last week.”

In a strange turn of events, Shana, the manager, came out from behind the bar and went over to greet Charlene and her companion. She shook both of their hands, and the two women appeared to know each other.

“...Knuckle deep inside the borderline

This may hurt a little but it's something you'll get used to..."

“Hey,” you squished your way in between some people at the bar, and caught Shana’s attention when she returned. “How do you know those two?”

Shana cracked open a few beer tops as she spoke. “She’s some rich lady, I only met her yesterday. Stephen, one of the owners, sold his share of the Hammer to her and moved to Florida literally in the middle of the night.”

“… I'll keep digging

Till I feel something

Elbow deep inside the borderline

Show me that you love me and that we belong together…”

You made a sour face, trying to understand what Shana was telling you, but then, realization dawned just as she was sharing the final bit of information with you:

“Charlene Gregson is part owner of the Velvet Hammer now.”

Part 17

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I love you all! I have some fun things planned for the few final chapters of this story, I'm even working on a holiday special💗 Your thoughtful commentary and reblogs always mean so much to me.

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