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rendevousz · 3 years

Text

freak

avengers x teen!fem!reader

summary: you get captured during a mission and the team saves you.

warnings: language, violence, brief misogyny, torture, **NO sexual assault (because as i was proofreading, i only implied most of the torture scenes because i didn't want to write it in graphic detail and i realised the vague wordings might be misinterpreted as sexual assault which IT IS NOT, just clearing it up), and also again, my inability to write good endings

word count: 4589

notes: i just rewatched iron man 2 so that explains justin hammer LMAO also ooc justin hammer because even tho mans evil, he gets extremely um.. cruel here but anyways i hope you enjoy this!!

you were 13 when you first met the avengers and 16 when you officially joined. you grew up as one of HYDRA's experimented children and the team had found you when they raided the base that you were in.

a small, sickly-looking kid you were, sat against your cell wall, hugging your knees. 13 but you could probably pass off as a 10 year old due to how malnourished and miserable you were. burying your head in between your knees, you covered your ears as the loud gunshot noises filled the whole place. the metal door of your cell slamming open against the wall had you whimpering, hands above your head in fear.

every time the door slammed open, guards would come drag you out for more experiments so it was an instinct for you to cower in fear at the sound.

"last room in the west hall, i found a little girl."

you heard nothing because you were covering your ears, preparing yourself to be forcefully dragged by the guards to the experiment room. but it never came.

"hey," a soft voice called. you were violently shaking at this point, breathing heavily as you tried to calm down. "hey, it's okay." the voice called out again and you felt them touch your shoulders.

your head immediately jolted up, flinching away from the stranger's touch. your eyes met a blue pair as you backed away into the corner in fear. "i'm sorry! i'm sorry, i didn't mean to." the man apologised. you slowly looked up at him, observing him. he had on a full black outfit, a quiver of arrows slinging on his shoulder and he was holding onto a bow.

"don't be scared. i'm here to help," he states with his hands out, as if to calm you down. "that's what they all say." you hissed through gritted teeth and a tear-stained face, glaring at him even though that could've been a very wrong move had it been with an actual HYDRA guard.

despite the strange feeling of being safe around this man, you didn't let your guard down. that's exactly what those scientists said seven years ago. trusting kind-looking men got you into this hell you never thought you would ever escape from and you weren't going to make the same mistake again.

"clint," a red-headed female, also in all black, entered through the open door of your cell with her pistol up. at the sight of the weapon, you broke your glare towards the man. your breathing quickened and you went back to your original position before the archer came; body pressed up against your knees and covering your ears with your palms.

"i'm sorry! i'm sorry! i'll come! please don't use that on me again," you whimpered, voice muffled as your face was hidden against your knees. the woman freezes mid-walk, looking at her friend with a bewildered expression.

"nat! put that away!" clint whispered harshly, eyes glaring at the pistol in nat's hands. nat's jaw dropped in realisation, a small gasp leaving her lips as she immediately put away her weapon.

she slowly makes her way to you and clint puts his arm out before she could get closer. he looks at her with a worried expression as he shook his head, as if telling her that she can't get too close to you. nat nods understandingly, crouching down a distance from you.

"hey," she spoke softly. "i promise you that we're not here to hurt you." you kept your face hidden from her, still hugging your legs tightly. nat sighs before sitting down.

"here, let's introduce ourselves. i'm nat and this right here is clint." you hear her speak and when you slowly lifted up your head, you saw the both of them sitting down in front of you, seeming to have made themselves at home in your pathetic cell. "what's your name?"

name? you had never been able to use your name before. you always kept your own name deep in your heart despite no one ever using it, afraid you would forget it if you stopped thinking of it. the only name they ever called you here was 'number five'.

"y/n," you whispered, still doubtful about these people's intentions. you almost burst out crying when you said your name out loud. that was the first time you introduced yourself with your actual name and not the number you were given ever since you were captured.

nat must have noticed this because she immediately spoke up, trying to distract you from your consuming thoughts. "y/n...that's a pretty name for a pretty girl like you. how old are you, y/n?" she asks again.

you contemplated once more but decided it was fine. you knew you were probably going to regret trusting these two strangers but what could be worse than what HYDRA has been doing to you for years?

"13," you muttered, looking down at your lap. you were now timidly seated cross-legged, playing with the tattered hem of your shorts. you heard a small gasp from one of them and looked up to see clint with his jaw dropped.

the two adults were both thinking of the same thing. how could you be 13? you were so small and sickly-looking, they didn't even think you were older than ten, let alone an early teen.

"i know you're scared and you have all the reasons in the world to be, but i promise you, we're here to help. we'll get you out of here, only if you trust us. will you trust us?" nat says. your mind was conflicted. you were either going to finally get out of this hellhole or you were going to be taken somewhere even worse than here. but could anywhere really be worse than here?

you decided to take a leap of faith and trust these two strangers. that decision had to have been the best decision you've ever made in your life.

you were now 18, an official avenger and you had the most amazing family you could've ever asked for. they were a bit on the crazier side but could you really have a normal family when said family consisted of superheroes? but you weren't complaining. you loved these people.

they were the ones who took care of you when you thought you had no one. having been a HYDRA experiment, you had abilities the normal human didn't. said ability being shapeshifting and healing. that's why you became an avenger. your shapeshifting ability was essential during missions where you had to sneak in and you being able to heal others was crucial when medic wasn't able to be there on time.

you pretty much came along to every mission despite the adults saying you don't have to. you knew they were only doing that to protect you from dangers of all those missions but how could you not when you had such abilities? they'd be much better with you helping.

that was why you were here, in bulgaria, fighting alongside the team. well, just steve, nat, clint, bucky and tony.

justin hammer had managed to get his hands on a type of out-of-this-planet weapon that tony was also trying to retrieve, and he had big plans with it. hence why the avengers had to come where hammer had wrecked havoc in; sofia, bulgaria. he had upgraded his robots with the tech used for the stolen weapon.

with evil robots attacking the whole city, it felt like you were living the story that wanda told you of what happened in sokovia before you met the avengers.

an hour passed before all of the robots had finally been taken down and you all knew you had to get to hammer before he activates more robots to distract you guys and uses the weapon for bad things.

"tony, have you located hammer?" steve's voice sounded in your ear through the comms. you had just finished healing the nasty gash on clint's side, nat's cut on her forehead and the bruises all over bucky. you were feeling significantly weaker now, from the amount of healing you did. you stumbled slightly when you walked and bucky immediately held onto your arm. "doll, are you okay?"

"i'm fine, buck. nothing i haven't dealt with before," you told him, gently removing his grip on your arm, walking back to the quinjet.

"no, absolutely not. we are not sending y/n right into a death trap. she's not even strong enough right now, she just finished healing us."

you were all back at the compound now and planning a second attack on justin hammer.

"it's not a death trap, buck. and i know you're worried but she's the only choice we got. y/n, all you gotta do is sneak in as one of his henchmen and provide entrance for us. once we get in, we'll take all his guards down and get that weapon from hammer and we won't have to worry about his world domination plans anymore. it'll be over as soon as it starts and she'll be back safe with us. sound good, y/n/n?"

"yeah, sure." you agreed, already having a person in mind that you were going to change yourself to.

the plan had gone just as steve wanted and they managed to raid justin hammer's building, tony stealing the very item that could've aided in the massacre of millions. justin and his henchmen managed to escape the building before the avengers could catch them.

"well, that was anticlimactic," tony scoffs, already making his way to the quinjet. "but good job, y/n. you saved the day once again."

he expected to hear a laugh from you, like you usually did, being the only one who ever responds to him after missions. but instead he was met with silence. "kid?" still no answer.

"y/n, where are you?" steve panicked, finally realising that you were the only one who hasn't responded in a hot minute. "y/n/n, this isn't funny." he breathed out.

"she's...she's gone."

"well, well, well," a voice spoke right as you woke up from your slumber. you squinted, noticing that you were in some sort of dark room with only one light bulb right above you. "what do we have here?"

a figure walks right in the light and you could barely make out justin hammer's ugly face with how dizzy you felt. "if it isn't the little freak." he states condescendingly, smirking down at your helpless position, both wrists and ankles cuffed onto the metal chair you were sat on. you struggled against the restraints, trying to get free but to no avail.

your breathing quickened, your current vulnerable state reminding you of your later years in HYDRA. they had started off experimenting on you on a metal gurney but as you grew older, you realised that what they were doing to you was bad so you started fighting back. that ended you up on a metal restraint chair instead of the gurney, strapped to the chair with cuffs on your wrists and ankles.

this felt like deja vu. the same panic you felt, the same breathing difficulties, the same amount of effort put into trying to get out of the restraints. "you should know, princess, that that doesn't work." hammer chuckled, a fake pout on his lips as he crouched in front of you, a rough hand on your cheek. you instinctively jerked away from his touch, to which he paid no mind to because he had expected that. he then grabbed your chin harshly, turning your head up towards him. you glared at him.

"you think i didn't know what you did? snuck in as one of my men using your freaky powers? not to mention useless. imagine having powers but not being able to use them to even escape from mere humans," he laughs in your face, harshly letting go of your chin, throwing your head backwards. "you tell me where stark planned to bring the weapon and i'll let you pretty little thing go."

"no."

before you could even comprehend, his fist came flying at your face and your head dropped to the side at the impact. your left cheekbone was throbbing and you could already tell you were gonna have a black eye. despite the pain, it wasn't something you weren't used to. you were an avenger, after all. getting decked in the face was practically in the contract.

he grabbed your chin once again, pulling your head upwards to face him. "you're gonna tell me where it is or i'm gonna make you regret it."

you looked up at him with a bored look. he punched you again. and again. and again. until you could taste the blood on your tongue. "think you wanna tell me now, sweetheart?"

"never. not to someone like you."

the man seemed to get a kick out of beating you up because he punched you again in the face. your whole face was pretty much numb now and the metallic taste in your mouth intensified. you smirked at the man before you, chuckling darkly.

"sure, beat up the helpless girl. that's the only way you can beat me, right? when i'm all tied up? what a man,"

his hand was around your throat within a second and he forced you to look him in the eyes again. "sweetheart, you're a girl. tied or not, you're still weak. not even with that useless power of yours."

taking advantage of how close his face was to yours, you gathered as much bloody saliva in your mouth before spitting it in his face.

it was very much the wrong thing to do because after he wiped off his face, he left the room and two men came in, various tools in hand for their fun with you.

"stark! my buddy! how's it going?" justin hammer's face appeared on the screen in the conference room, where the avengers were having a meeting about your possible whereabouts.

"where is she?!" wanda growled, standing up abruptly.

"what ever do you mean?" hammer smirked, feigning innocence. "you know what we mean. where is she?" steve spoke authoritatively, trying to control his anger at the sight of the man's face.

"i'll tell you where your thing is if you tell me where my thing is." he smiled wickedly. this caused wanda to get angrier. "y/n is not a thing! and the weapon was never yours in the first place!" vision held onto her to calm her down and it worked because she sat back down, though still glaring at the screen.

"oh she's not a thing? seems like it to me, though." he smirked and the team frowned, not understanding what he meant until they heard screams and justin's smirk widening at the sound. what a sick bastard. "what are you doing to her?!" bucky screamed, knocking his chair back as he stood up.

"i don't know, you tell me." he chuckles, and the screen changes to the live footage of you in the restraint chair with the two men in the room.

you were no longer fighting back now, just sat limply with your head dropped to the side. the first hour with them, you had been fighting back like you did with justin, despite the restraints, but now entering the second hour, you were too exhausted for anything.

your left eye had been swollen shut, you could barely breathe through your nose, your cheeks were throbbing like hell and your bottom lip was busted. your head was the only thing that moved freely when hit so the men seemed to find satisfaction the most when they punched you in the face. though that didn't stop them from inflicting pain on other parts of you.

"let her go, she's just a kid!" sam exclaimed, his grip on the edge of the table tightening to control his anger. peter and wanda were crying looking at the awful state you were in, clint, tony and bruce were silent in shock, steve and bucky were getting increasingly angry as the abuse continued.

"are you going to tell us where stark is keeping the weapon or have you not gotten enough?" one of the two men was heard asking, pulling your hair back to make you look up at him. you look at with your half-opened right eye, breathing heavily. "my answer's never gonna change no matter how many times you ask."

he scoffs, stepping back before the other man swings a bat right at your stomach. the air was immediately knocked out of your lung. the men laughed as you coughed up blood profusely. this caused wanda to get more hysterical.

"well, looks like she wants more. i'll call back when she's had enough. toodles," he waves his fingers at the camera with a sinister smirk before abruptly ending the call.

the room went silent after the call, save for bucky and sam breathing heavily from the anger they felt. bucky then turned to steve, pain could be seen on his face. "you said she would be safe."

"i–i'm sorry, buck. i didn't know he was gonna take her with him." steve was still frozen in shock, the image of you on the chair now permanently ingrained in his brain. in everyone's brains actually.

"guys, gear up, he's in colorado."

all heads turned towards natasha and she looked back at them with a 'what?' expression. "you were tracking him down the whole time?"

"um, duh? now come on, gotta save our girl."

you awoke to a stinging sensation on your inner forearm. after your bloody coughing fit, they proceeded to beat you up again and you were knocked out then. now you were slowly regaining consciousness but you were starting to prefer being passed out. your whole body was in pain and the fact that you couldn't even move made it even worse.

"oh, lookie here. sleeping beauty is up." you were met once again with justin hammer's ugly face. he was sitting on a chair perpendicular to your left side. you couldn't wait to get out of here so you didn't have to keep seeing his face every time you woke up. your inner forearm was stinging even more now so you looked down at it. you gasped at the sight.

"how'd you like my artwork?" he chuckled at your reaction. there on your arm, obviously carved out with the bloody knife that the asshole was so proudly holding on to, was 'FREAK'. carved out big and bold. on your skin. "pretty fitting, eh? freak? because, you know, that's what you are."

the blood was seeping out through the cuts and it stung even more now that it had been exposed to the air. the asshole moved his chair to your other side. "what should i write on this arm?" he feigns a thinking expression, looking up thoughtfully with his thumb and pointer finger on his chin.

"please, i–i don't know where tony put it. i really don't." you cried, tears now flowing freely down your face without a shame.

he looks at you with amusement. "what is this? are you...are you giving up already? can't take anymore?" he smirks and you sigh, closing your eyes. you just awoke but you were exhausted. so, so exhausted.

he takes out his phone, the smirk now permanent on his ugly face. "stark! kid's finally had enough. wanna tell me where the weapon is now or do you want to find her body at the bottom of the ocean?"

you couldn't even be bothered to react to his statement. the pain all finally registered and you were tired. tired and in excruciating pain.

"kinda busy right now, can you call back later?" you could hear tony's voice sound from justin's phone and the man beside you laughed. "i see you don't care for the girl. what could possibly be more important than saving her?"

"i don't know, you tell me." a voice said from behind you two and before you knew it, hammer was knocked off the chair he was on. you weakly turned your head just in time to see a metal arm force hammer up onto his feet before wrapping around his neck. "don't you fucking touch her again."

"y/n!" you heard wanda's voice as she entered the room with peter. more tears flowed down your face at the sight of them, stinging when they rolled past the cuts on your face but that didn't matter. your family was finally here to save you.

you saw the red mist of wanda's powers surround your cuffs before they clicked open. "oh, bubs, i'm so sorry." she cried, both hands hovering around your face, hesitating to touch you in fear of hurting you. her eyes fell onto the words carved out onto your skin and her mouth fell open before covering it with her hand. "i'm so sorry we couldn't get to you sooner." peter's voice cracked and you could tell he was emotional.

"it's okay," you told them, giving them a small smile, the biggest one you could give in your current state.

tony, sam and steve entered the room to see bucky relentlessly beating up your captor and wanda and peter standing by you as you cried.

"cupcake, we're here now. don't cry, you're safe now." tony came closer and despite knowing that you were because your family was finally here, you couldn't help but let out all the pent up emotions you've kept throughout your time of captivity.

sam had a go at justin once bucky was done and steve had to physically pry them both off of the sick bastard so that nat could cuff him and bring him back to the jet.

"y/n/n, i'm so sorry. if i hadn't–"

"it's okay, stevie." you cut him off. truthfully, you only did so because you knew he was going to giving a long-winded explanation justifying his actions and your headache couldn't bear to hear lengthy sentences. but you also didn't think it was in any way his fault so he didn't deserve to be beating himself up for this. shit happens, anyway.

"let's get you out of here, doll." bucky says, cringing when he sees the blood on the floor of your chair, as well as on your clothes. he quickly reaches to lift you off the chair but stops when you let out an ear-piercing scream of pain. "doll, i'm so sorry! did i hurt you?!" bucky questions in panic.

"y–you didn't, they did. it...it hurts everywhere," you cried, feeling hopeless that you couldn't even bear being carried by someone, let alone get up by yourself. their hearts broke when you said that. you never really cried much in front of them and you were known to withstand pain well because of how much shit HYDRA put you in as well as your powers being healing, meaning you had a higher pain tolerance than most people.

"it's okay, bubs. i got you. let's get you home, alright?" wanda's calming voice broke you out of your breakdown and red mist surrounded your whole body, wanda moving you with her powers. you were thankful of that because it didn't cause any more pain to your body.

maybe hammer was right. maybe you are just a freak with useless powers. wanda floated you into the jet and she set you down on the bed. "y/n, oh my god!" clint cried out once he sees you. you looked much worse than you did on hammer's camera footage during the call an hour ago. "kid, i'm so sorry."

"clint, take the wheel. bruce doesn't have all the resources needed. she needs to be treated ASAP." nat tells her best friend and he nods, taking the wheel and immediately taking off once everyone had boarded.

you were laid on the bed, right eye slightly open as bruce examined you. exhaustion hit you like a truck and before you knew it, you blacked out.

"how is she, doc?"

"pretty banged up but y/n, as i already knew, is a strong girl. lots of internal bleeding, broken bones, bruises and scars but she'll be fine. you can check her file later if you want," doctor cho tells tony outside of your room. "it's fine, can we see her?" he asks on behalf of the whole team standing behind him.

"yeah, of course! she woke up five minutes ago. i'll be off now, call me or my team if you need anything." she bids goodbye and left the group of superheroes.

steve slowly opens the door and there you were in bed, staring up at the ceiling. "hey, y/n/n," he greets sheepishly, feeling as though he had interrupted your alone time of blankly staring at the ceiling. the team trailed in behind him and soon your bed was surrounded by the avengers.

"hi, cupcake."

you looked away from the ceiling and turned your head towards tony. "oh, hey tones." you smile as sam helps you sit up while the rest sat on chairs all around you. "how you feeling, bub?" nat asks, eyes flickering down to the bold scarring of letters on your forearm.

"as okay as i can be." you answered truthfully, pressing your inner forearm closer to your body so the team doesn't see the letters carved onto your skin. you already know what you are, you didn't need the rest thinking so too.

"you're not a freak, bubs."

you look up at wanda. "i'm sorry, i didn't mean to read your mind. but they were awfully loud. you're not a freak, y/n. and you're not useless too. that bastard may have carved out that word onto your skin but the scar will fade. it's not permanent. you know why? because that's not what you are." she tells you, taking off her jacket to wrap it around you because you felt self conscious of the scars all over your arms where the team could see.

"yeah, doll. you're an amazing person and your powers help us so much. i mean, you saved millions just helping us get the weapon back from justin hammer. if you hadn't, well, who knows what could've been happening right now?" he places a gentle hand at the side of your head, stroking your hair.

"yeah and who heals us when we get really hurt during missions, huh? i mean, if you hadn't healed that stab wound i got during that mission in new mexico, i probably wouldn't even be here at this moment." clint tells you and you roll your eyes at him. "you're exaggerating."

"i am not!" he laughed and you playfully rolled your eyes once again.

"y/n/n, i'm really sorry for—"

"i don't wanna hear it, stevie."

"but–"

"no. it's not your fault. shit happens." you brush him off. "lang–"

"you say language to me, i'll blame this shit on you even when it's not your fault. try me, rogers." you glare at the blond super soldier. he raises his arms in surrender, leaning back on his chair as the team laughs.

the team continue to entertain you and you couldn't help but smile at the sight in front of you. these were the people who would drop anything for you and were willing to dropkick any asshole in the face for hurting you. justin hammer never had a chance against your family to begin with.

taglist <3

@amourtentiaa @rqmanoff @abitofeverythinggg

#avengers x reader #avengers x teen!reader #bruce banner x teen!reader #bucky barnes x teen!reader #clint barton x teen!reader #marvel x teen!reader #natasha romanoff x teen!reader #sam wilson x teen!reader #steve rogers x teen!reader #peter parker x reader #tony stark x teen!reader #wanda maximoff x teen!reader

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prince-septimus · 3 years

Text

the run-in

pairing : jason todd x detective!reader

summary : 3 times you run into the red hood, and the one time it’s jason todd

word count : 1.8k

warnings : mention of blood & violence

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to play with fire?”

You spin around quickly, your gun pointed at the chest of a man you had never met but had heard all too much about.

The Red Hood.

“Sounds more like something the Commissioner would tell me,” you speak calmly, but don’t move the gun away.

There are bodies lying around you – some brought down by your own hand and the others brought down by his. Groans of pain fill the air, but you know some of the men are dead.

“Commissioner Gordon—” his voice is mechanical, any real traces of what he sounds like hidden by the mask he wears, “—how is he doing these days?”

Your gaze turns into a glare. “He’s fine. Would you like me to call him up? I bet he’d love to talk to you.”

Under the dim streetlights of Gotham, the Red Hood is a startling figure. He’s almost terrifying as he stands in front of you, but in a city full of heroes and villains alike, you don’t let his imposing structure intimidate you.

“I’ve actually got places to be,” he quips, before turning his attention to one of the men lying on the ground.

They were all members of a local drug ring you had recently been trying to bust. You know the names of a few, recognized them from photos you had found, but now they were just bodies to fill the jail cells, or for some, the morgue. You had been on a stakeout, trying to find some last bits of evidence you would need to finally make the bust, but you were ambushed.

The Red Hood had appeared out of nowhere.

He kicks at the body closest to him. There’s no groan of pain. Letting out a huff of air, it’s almost masked by the static of his mask. “Looks like you have a lot of paperwork to do.”

“No thanks to you.”

His head turns. You briefly wonder what he looks like under that mask, wonder what he sounds like.

“I’ll make sure to leave a few for you next time.”

You can practically hear the smile hidden away underneath the false voice he carries with him. Finally, you drop your gun. “I’ll let the Commissioner know you say ‘hello’.”

“It’s not like you to sit up on roofs. That’s more of my kind of thing.”

You sigh, bringing your camera away from your face to look at the man who’s saddled up next to you. “What do you want, Red?”

“What? Can’t stop by to see how my favorite detective is doing?”

“You hate the police,” you reply flatly.

It had been a few weeks since you had last seen the Red Hood. He had popped up occasionally, always when you were working alone. You figured he had found some sort of trust in you, helping you out on the occasional case by offering information if you turned a blind eye to his criminal activities. You had a sort of trust in him too, you had decided, trusting him to never lead you on a wrong turn when it came to the leads he gave you.

You still bickered with him, though, almost treating him like an old friend rather than a deadly vigilante.

“I only hate the police that don’t do their job.” He leans against the concrete barrier surrounding the roof, the one you had been hiding behind as you spied on the gangsters in the window across the street. “That doesn’t include you.”

“I wouldn’t think you’d be here if it did.” You scroll through the photos you had taken so far on your camera, making sure you have what you need before turning to the man standing next to you. “What do you want, Red?”

“Heard your name from some of the men you’ve been scouting.” He nods toward the building. “I think you need to be a little more careful.”

“Isn’t that what I keep you around for?”

This is one of the moments where you wish you could see the face beneath the mask. You want to be able to read him, be able to know what he’s thinking, what he’s feeling. Instead, you’re forced to look at the masked man in front of you and be completely unaware as to who sits beneath it all.

“Just be careful. Keep someone with you when you’re out here doing these kinds of things.”

You shake your head, turning to bend down and grab your equipment from where it’s spread out on the roof. “I’ll be alright, Red. Now, how about you walk me home, hm?”

You stand back up, but he’s nowhere to be found, almost as if he was never there.

A bullet flies past your head, planting itself into the man who had been pointing his gun at you.

You don’t need to turn around to know who the bullet belongs to. Instead, you let your arms fall to your side as a huff of air falls past your lips. “I had it.”

“Sure, you did.”

He appears next to you, sliding his gun back into the holster strapped to his hip. You feel the anger rise up in you as you turn to look at him, and without thinking, you’re shoving at his chest.

“I had it!”

“I told you not to do stakeouts alone anymore—”

“You don’t get to decide what I can and cannot do.” You lower your voice, trying to calm yourself. “This is my job. I shouldn’t even be talking to you—”

“But you need my help.”

You rub your hands across your face. “I don’t need your help unless I ask for it, and I didn’t ask for it this time.”

A mechanic scoff. “You could’ve died.”

“I needed more information out of the guy.”

“You could’ve died. Do I need to keep repeating it?”

“Well, I’m fine. And now I have to find an explanation of why this guy is dead.”

“Better than finding you dead.”

Sirens sound in the distance. Someone must’ve called the cops before you ever got the chance to call it in.

“Go,” you say quickly, “get out of here so I don’t have to explain to my coworkers why I’m talking to a man they’re actively hunting.”

By the time the patrol cars arrive, spotting you with your hands raised in the air, the Red Hood is long gone.

The lights above you hurt your eyes. You try to lift yourself off the ground, but the pain stops you. You’re not sure where it stems from, but it’s spreading like a wildfire. Your whole body burns. It hurts to turn your head, but you manage to do so and almost let out a sob at the sight of your partner laid out on the ground.

Blood drips out of his nose, and his eyes are lifeless.

You cough, suddenly feeling like you can’t catch your breath at the realization of everything that had just happened. You had convinced your newest partner – a newer recruit, almost 30 – to do a stakeout with you. It was supposed to be a simple watch, one to get more information on one of the newer crime families in Gotham.

Instead, the two of you had been ambushed and laid out. Your partner was dead and you were close enough to it.

You don’t hear the footsteps or the panicked shout of your name until there’s a man standing over you. It’s hard to see anything but his shadow under the streetlight, but you would recognize the voice hidden beneath that mask anywhere.

“Red,” you manage to get out softly before your throat begins to burn and you’re coughing out any next words you have.

“Stay still,” he orders. He reaches for your side, his gloved hand covered in blood when he pulls it back before immediately pressing it back against your side in order to stop some of the bleeding. "You've been shot.”

You hiss at the pain that shoots through you, your eyes shutting . “Feels like I’ve been hit by a truck.”

“Hey, hey,” he pats at your cheek, “keep your eyes open for me.”

“At least I didn’t come alone.”

He looks over at the fallen body of your partner, letting out a sigh. “Look at how well that worked out for you. Where’s your phone?”

“Don’t know. Car maybe.”

“Fuck it,” he spits out, keeping one hand pressed against your gunshot wound while the other digs his own phone out of his pocket.

“What are you doing?”

You watch through blurry vision as he brings the phone up to his ear.

“Commissioner,” he speaks into the phone, quickly explaining what’s happened and where to find you. When the call ends, he looks back down at you. “Help is on its way.”

Beneath his mask, the Red Hood has a confused expression etched onto his face as he listens to the soft laugh you let out. “What are you laughing at? You’re bleeding out in an alley and you’re laughing.”

“You called the Commissioner to help me.” Your voice is broken, breathy words falling from your lips. “You’re risking the police finding you here in order to get me help. You’re doing all this, and I don’t even know your name or what you look like.”

A turn of his head towards the end of the alley, looking to see if there’s anyone watching. There’s sirens in the distance. He only has a few minutes.

With a click, he removes the helmet and tosses it next to him. His black and white streaked hair falls onto his forehead, and his face is still partially covered by the domino mask he always wore underneath, but he’s all-too-familiar even without revealing everything.

You smile. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

“I was dead.”

“And Jim knows?”

“Yes.”

You try to sit up again, attempting to ignore the pain, but Jason’s free hand finds your shoulder and holds you down.

“Don’t move. It could make it worse.”

“What’s next? Is Nightwing about to appear from the rooftop?”

Jason laughs. “We’re not exactly speaking at the moment, so I assume no.”

You shake your head as best you can. “Jason fuckin’ Todd. Back from the dead. Can’t believe I made friends with a zombie.”

“Real original.”

The sirens are closer now, too close.

Jason lets out a sigh when he hears a car door slam shut. There’s blood on your face and he reaches up to smear some of it away with his glove. “I guess that’s my cue.”

Gordon appears first, clearly keeping the other officers away to give Jason time.

You watch the two nod at each other before Jason grabs one of your hands.

“Almost there,” he tells you softly, removing his hand and placing yours over the gunshot wound in your side. “Keep pressure there, help is here.”

Jason reaches for his helmet, slipping it back on before taking off into the shadows.

You realize he never said goodbye, but as the Commissioner and the EMTs reach you, you know that you’ll see him again.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #jason todd imagine #jason todd fic #3+1 #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #my fics #recently got back into my batman phase and im having a grand time #also lemme know if you like the new format #i have another writing blog where i use this format and i just happen to like it better

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sor-vette · 3 years

Text

Chapter Seven | Home Care (mature)

At the turn of a new leaf, you find yourself dancing along the knife’s edge. To keep yourself from falling over, you must ask three questions: what do they have, what do they hold dear and how far will they go to make you stay with them?

▶ wc: 3.0k

▶ warnings: sexual content and my first smut, so be forgiving for lack of appeal. Onto the actual warnings - (implied?) spitroast, threesome (m,m,f), very, very soft dom/sub dynamics, blowjob, light choking, marking, bruising, (sorta) restraining, overstimulation.

▶ this series’ masterlist

▶ other works

All you see is the flickering scarlet of Taehyung’s shawl, floating in the wind against the never-ending backdrop of the white snow. You stand in front of the burnt oak like you have been for the entirety of the week.

It’s suspicious - this particular tree.

“You literally find everything suspicious,” a dry replica of your voice sneers in your head. And while it is true there was something unnatural about the dying flora.

It was burnt from inside out, as you found. Though its branches were still intact, proudly spreading in the sky like dark tendrils, the trunk had collapsed into an empty shell. Nothing around had sustained any damage, not the remaining forest, not the ground underneath. It stands tall and ominous, like a burning tower of an unknown origin.

You circle the tree and tentatively reach to touch the sooted bark, and for a moment you even scarcely think you can still hear it cindering. But that would already be a ghost tale.

“What do you suggest we do?” you hear Yoongi’s angered snarl. You glance at the clock. Had you been so long they already went out to look for you? No, the sun was still out. It couldn’t have been more than 30 minutes.

“We should go back there. Be with her. This might be -" you hear Jimin’s reply. He sounds tired, much too tired for how you left him.

“I swear if you two followed me here! I haven’t even been out for so - ” you round the tree, fully expecting two disappointed figures brewing a lecture on safety but there’s no one.

“ - long.”

You stare at the moment around. There really is no one there. You whip around, trying to catch a movement in the trees or anywhere nearby.

“Are you pranking me again?” you call out, uncertain.

“Jimin? Yoongi?”

Nothing but the howl of a faraway wind.

“Hey, baby, how was yo- what happened?”

You pull off Tae’s red shawl and hang it neatly in the closet. Namjoon comes over, his previous dimpled smile melting in a second.

“Nothing,” you lie.

You’re actually quite good of a liar, nowhere near the level of incapability of Jungkook. One you’ve witnessed after a game of strip poker where the poor man was left betrayed and solely in his underwear. A good sight for you but most likely embarrassing for him. Though lately, he began to take fondness for more and more revealing shirts. Especially the ones that diligently traced the lines of his muscular form, revealing glinting chains stretching across his chest. When he did that, you dared not to look.

“You just look like you saw a ghost.”

(Close enough.)

Namjoon helps you shuck off the coat, his attention never leaving you. Ever since you woke up, it was as though he was watching your every move. More than once, you'd casually look up, only to find his dragon-like eyes observing you, using the hefty, red spined book named “The 1000 Greatest Odes to Our Love” as a cover. It was an odd feeling. You couldn't make up your mind between feeling unnerved and well... flattered in a special way.

You made recovery in steady steps and took your pills diligently, despite them messing with your head to new sorts of levels. The dreams had resurfaced in full frontier, which often made breakfast rather awkward and chockful of blushing cheeks. They didn't plague you during the daytime, but their obscenity during the night had skyrocketed. Even as Namjoon casually brushes your shoulders, you give it your all not to recall the nightly visage of him brutally pounding into you, long fingers neatly wrapping around your throat, as Yoongi kisses you, leaving a wet string of saliva between you.

It was more than indecent, it was demonic this imagination of yours.

Then, of course, there were the voices during the day. Semi - regularly you made a fool of yourself, continuing or butting in conversations that never even happened. The little stunt at the tree, though mildly frightful, was only one occurrence in the long series of cascading events.

"Did you hallucinate again?" Namjoon asks, raising his large hand to measure your temperature. You catch his arm before he can make contact, feeling slightly flustered how even the tips of your fingers can't reach around the width of his wrist.

"It's fine, I'm fine," you splutter. He lowers his hand with a thoughtful "hmm", gazing at where you caught him. It is a peculiar contrast. Namjoon was with all due respect a giant, therefore by definition much stronger than you, but, out of context, it is your hold on him that seems aggressive. Oddly making him look obedient. Also starkly different from the Namjoon in the dream who could and did toss you around like a ragdoll, this Namjoon all but melted underneath your touch, awaiting your action.

You let his hand drop.

Taehyung snores deeply, drooling on your thighs.

"They're the exact plumpness and softness of my pillow. Very beneficial for the quality of sleep," he had argued and, after cursing him out a little bit, largely for the sake of your dignity, you conceded - defeated underneath the full might of those puppy eyes.

The longer you stayed with them, the more you found yourself, with loud irritation but nonetheless, indulging their many requests and odd little needs.

Jin wanted you to kiss any bruise and cut better, you obliged. Yoongi was insistent on holding hands if you watched any movies, you obliged. Hoseok, who was still shying away from a conversation, on some late nights asked if he could sit at the edge of your bed. He quietly explained that he wanted to check if you were still alive. You obliged without a single thought.

Whether it was brushing teeth together with Jungkook, or allowing Jimin to lay his head on your stomach, when you were sprawled on the sofa reading, you were practically swallowed whole by them.

This meant that only in two instances of the day you were left outside their reach. When you were with Bo Young with whom you'd become compatriots of sorts, and when you were taking your afternoon walk to the forest.

Now both of these times, you have recollections of forming a web of fear and doubt. You can clearly recall how in those times when the only touch on your skin is that of a chill trail of the January blizzard, that you ponder how weird this all is.

How you haven't gone home for almost a month, how you keep staying with them despite being fully recovered. Just how uncharacteristic it is for you to move in with seven men who arguably are strangers. You didn’t even have a roommate in university. Really, this isn’t you at all. But once you come back, all doubts dissipate. They aren’t strangers at all. They are your...yours.

You know their details by heart, the curves of their faces you will never forget. Their mannerisms you could list without a pause of breath. You know how Hobi plays with his earlobe when he is stressed, how Jimin can’t go three minutes without touching his hair, how Namjoon hides himself after doing something cute, that particular smile Taehyung has when he is insufferably pleased with himself, the pattern of Jin's flustered blinking, how Yoongi cannot make eye contact if he wants to say something sweet, how Jungkook sometimes just... stands... there. You know all of that, and you know how much you love them.

And yet it is still weird.

You let your hand softly brush through Taehyung's azure hair (courtesy of Jin and Jungkook, who had bullied everyone into participating in an impromptu attempt at hairdressing). He mutters something undecipherable and rubs his head against your thighs. On your stomach, there sits a laptop with an Excel file open - the muddled logistics of somehow transporting Monet paintings for the upcoming exhibition.

You close it with a thoroughly disgusted sneer, nudging Taehyung off your thighs. He subconsciously begins to grab at something once his arms are empty and you toss him a pillow as a sacrifice. He deems it good enough and keeps snoring. With a shake of the head you leave the second guest room which for a month now was already your room.

Strange.

(Isn’t it.)

As you pass the painting of the cow in a chair (with a JJK proudly stamped at the bottom) you linger slightly by the windows. Night already and if you squint you might even see the faraway lights of the spiralling city. Might even think of “why am I not returning there”. You focus too much on the dark and your eyes catch your own reflection. The face might not be different, but the expression is. Your brows are sharply furrowed and your eyes look mutedly miserable as if you're secretly mourning.

And you were. Jane.

Long deleted is her last text message. “Hi. Thanks for being my friend but please don’t bother me anymore.”

Bother.

That word cut you deep, far deeper than you would admit in the light of day. The people you trusted were very little in number. People are, after all, confusing and difficult. But when you found someone to cling onto, you would cling. Give perhaps too much from that shrivelled thing doctors called heart. Secretly, and truly in the darkest secret, you’d wish to give more and more to make those few people happy. And you had been a bother. A nuisance. An irritation.

You swallowed your hurt like you had plenty before and deleted her text. Damned if you feel anything. But it was hard.

Out of all, only Jungkook knew of Jane’s text but he was unexpectedly insensitive about it. You’ve got new friends, he said, and you didn’t need the sort who would put you down. He was privately amused, but also being no good liar, you could see the contained laughter in his eyes.

Jin’s loud giggling coming from somewhere around pulls you out from the wallowing depths and you move along.

Even after a month, this house doesn’t fail to amaze you. Like the gallery and something on the cover of Architectural Digest. A warm toned blend of old and contemporary. Even though it’s expensive, it’s not tasteless and every single room oozes domesticity. The wood slat panelling, the comfortable furniture, the knick-knacks. They must have travelled quite extensively for there seem to be memorabilia of every city in the world lying around somewhere.

(I wonder how that happened.)

Namjoon’s expansive terrarium outside, overlooking the dining room even in the harsh of winter, is beautiful and serene in its own way. It is his pride and joy, coming third on the list. The second is his office, which you hadn’t yet visited and the first one is this makeshift family, as he admitted. Everyone had cringed loudly at that, insisting good-naturedly that he should stick to reading poetry and not compose it.

Family...is that what you were?

You hide in the bathroom, washing your hands and face, pondering over that term.

“What are you doing here?” you ask Yoongi quietly who was crouching on the wooden bench. In the beginning, it was startling to have him just appear nearby as that man was largely a cat in human form but over the course of time you’d sharpened your sixth sense and he no longer could surprise you.

“They robbed me blind,” he whines through a pout. “I don’t want to participate in such an unfair community.”

Between his fingers, there is the vintage battleship figure of Monopoly. Only once had you played the old Monopoly game with them. Namjoon had the lantern, Hobi had the purse, Jimin was the thimble, Tae - the old car, Jin had obviously taken the top hat, Yoongi was persistent on choosing the battleship and Jungkook had snatched the dog before anyone could move. You were left with the vintage shoe.

They were horrible frauds while playing so you gave an oath to never play again. Jin’s distinct neigh of laughter made sense now.

“Oh, you poor baby,” you idly mutter, placing the towel down. But Yoongi no longer is pouting, instead, he gazes closely at you, studying the smallest curve of your put out expression.

“Princess, why are you sad?”

“I’m not sad,” you stubbornly refute, meeting his eyes in the mirror. Oh, for fuck’s sake. You squeeze your thighs closer. You really are just one woman who has had nothing but seven disbelievingly handsome men lounge all over her. All in all, you have had a remarkable amount of self-control.

“You know if you’re feeling bad,” Yoongi drawls rising up. He’s not the tallest of the bunch but he is intense. You meet him head-on, determined to project the image “I am cool, I am unperturbed”, though inside you’re panicking. Being in this very spot before.

“I can make you feel real good.”

You swallow hard, trying not to shake along with your heartbeat. Oh, no, you know exactly where this is going…!

Yoongi tentatively, lighter than a brush of a feather, places a chaste kiss on the crook of your neck. He breathes in and out, resting his head. Constraining, controlling himself. But barely. You glance at his fingers, they are curled into his palm, nails digging in.

“Princess, you’ll have to use your words,” he sounds laboured and his forehead is feverish. Out of nowhere, he spins you around, squeezing your face in his quivering palms.

“Just, please, please say yes,” he begs. Yoongi leans in, nose resting against yours, so close you go cross-eyed trying to see his expression.

“Say yes and I’ll make you come so hard you’ll forget your name,” he lets his hand rest on your stomach and presses into it gently.

“You’ll feel me here for days,” he growls and you try not to pass out. And yet when you lean in, to kiss him, he strays further back.

“Baby, I - I can’t.”

“What the hell does that mean,” you growl, irritated, chasing his lips. As with Namjoon, outwardly it’s you who's the aggressive one. Erratically you wonder, is this what they want? To make you chase them, so you’d give in out of pure frustration?

(Yes.)

“It means… I will - I will take until there’s nothing more left,” he caresses the back of your head, palm stopping on your nape. You shiver.

“And I want you to be as greedy as us,” he leans down, pushing his head in your jaw, lips ghosting against your neck. His hair makes it slightly tickle.

“Be greedy, baby, be selfish, use me as we would use you.”

You feel your heart plunge somewhere in your stomach and your cunt has a heartbeat of its own.

“So shut up and use me already,” you insist, breathless and angry. You feel a horribly petty and needy side arise, one you didn’t know you even had, but he’s not touching you where you want him and that’s infuriating. You guide one of his hands towards your breast, the other to your pussy. You’re getting wetter by the minute and you want him to know that. To do something about it. Almost in instinct, he glides his hands over your underwear, taking everything in and audibly gasps. He’s so close to breaking… Really, they would be more than happy to break you

(They would.)

So why couldn’t you break them in return?

“Either you take me, make me beg or I’ll do it myself,” you warn and Yoongi’s gentle composition finally cracks and breaks apart fully.

Immediately he whips you around, awkwardly walking towards the marble counter. When the short walk stops, his hand settles on your throat, not too strong but so you could feel your own vein pulse in his thumb. His other hand caresses your slit over the underwear. You’re about to whine and extort again, but his hand momentarily squeezes around your throat, constricting your breath. Shut up. So you do.

Already the mirror image of you is a mess. Parted lips gasping for air, hair in your face and reddened cheeks. Finally, he tugs down your underwear, it pools somewhere around your ankle and teases your entrance with the flick of his fingers. You gasp loudly as he finally plunges his fingers in, pumping slowly, stretching for what’s coming. And you know how necessary that will be.

You close your eyes, so you don’t see Namjoon open the doors to the bathroom, to see where Yoongi had gone. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise at the view and Yoongi throws him a cocky side smirk.

“Damn,” Namjoon curses to himself, “I’ll never hear the end of this.”

Between them all, Jimin had the highest bet of being the first but as always Yoongi proved himself to be the frauded underdog. For a second he thinks of leaving, but then you give off a gentle whine, beginning to pant harder and Namjoon tosses all thought out the window and down the cliff.

You’re so lost in the sensation of Yoongi’s fingers, pressing harder and faster into you that when someone’s lips touch yours, you kiss back automatically. Not caring who it is.

“Well, baby, what have you gotten yourself into,” Namjoon coos and you crack an eye open. You begin to shiver as he kisses down the column of your throat. The scenes to you familiar like a movie replayed thousand times over.

“Have you behaved well?” he asks lazily, breath ghosting over your ear as he bites on your earlobe.

“No, she hasn’t,” Yoongi replied, biting on the other side of your shoulder, a smile evident in voice. “The little brat was extorting and whatnot.”

“Hmm,” Namjoon traces your bottom lip. Abruptly he pushes two fingers in your mouth and you choke, the sound echoing lewdly against the glide of the marbled walls. You begin to take any breaths you possibly can, feeling increasingly more light-headed.

“Yeah, asked us to make her beg.” Namjoon slips his fingers out and you gasp for air, already the back of your throat feeling oddly sore.

“Did she really?” he asks and you tremble at his predatory expression.

The house is silent save for your loud, delirious laughter. Namjoon hunched over the chair, leaning down in pain. He had tried to be suave and talk dirty but he was stuttering and mumbling through the words, in the end bumping his thigh against the rustic wooden table in the living room. You hear Yoongi’s light laughter in the crook of your neck as both of you wheeze uncontrollably at Namjoon’s misery. He raises his head, feigning anger.

“Is that how you want to play, two of you?” He asks and both Yoongi and you make a run for it. Holding hands you rush up the stairs. To Yoongi’s room. Still laughing, he slams the doors shut in Namjoon’s face.

“What’s the password?” he taunts.

“Then I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow you two into next week.”

You breathe out in faint amusement.

“Seems fair enough,” Yoongi shrugs and Namjoon enters the room, smacking the door behind him, eyes flickering between two giggling figures.

“So which piggy should I eat first, this one or this one?”

Yoongi was all but indignant.

“Hey, does it look like I bottom?”

“You’re the cover picture, baby boy.”

Yoongi blushes red as a ripened strawberry, spluttering a series of choked up complaints.

“Hmm...maybe we should play with you,” you point tauntingly towards Namjoon, “we are after all two versus one.”

He takes your poking fingers in a gentle hold, guiding you backwards, to the plush bed.

“Pigs are pigs and wolves eat them,” he remarks, straddling you mid-waist down, carefully trying not to push onto you the whole mass of his ginormous stature.

“Are you calling me a pig?”

“You’re a very cute pig, a very attractive pig. This wolf might consider inter-species breeding.”

You snicker generously at his lame joke but are ultimately silenced as Namjoon presses his mouth onto yours with a needy whimper. Yoongi taps Namjoon’s shoulders and he spins you around, to allow the other one access. They lap and bite and groan in your shoulders, neck and lips as their hands freely and greedily roam anywhere they want. They fumble around your bra for a bit, Namjoon taking a bit longer as his fingers are slightly clumsy. They are shaking, you realize. Namjoon in the dream had been so assured of himself, this one was not. On an impulse, you lean down and press a gentle kiss to his trembling fingers. He stills entirely.

“Oh, baby,” Namjoon finally utters and in his voice, there is nothing but love. Perhaps not pure, perhaps not devoid of lustful undertones, but it’s encompassing and proud and caring. And it’s more than you ever dreamt of asking.

He leans in, breathing slowly in your space, eyes scrunched up as if he’s overcome with some unfathomable emotion. You stutter small breaths as Yoongi once again finds your entrance and pushes his fingers in and out, this time much faster and much rougher. One of his hands flicks over your nipple painfully and you keen.

“Baby, how ever did we live without you?” he whispers, mind visibly clouding.

“Well, I’m here now,” you assure, trying to hold in loud moans as Namjoon yanks his shirt over his well-defined back. Together they yank down your shirt. Your pants and panties were already precariously abandoned in the bathroom. In the faint light of the bedside lamp, you instinctively reach to cover your breasts but two pairs of hands catch your wrists, tugging them aside before you even finish the movement.

“Now, baby girl, none of that,” Yoongi growled, wrapping his fingers tightly around your wrist, veins popping along the side of his arm.

“You’re both clothed,” you protest.

“We’re wolves, baby, wolves don’t listen to orders.”

“Well, first of all, they do. Packs have a hierarchy,” brattily you object, unhinged and curious to see how far you could wind them up, “and secondly, are you a furry? Do you want to be an animal?”

“Do you want me to be?” Namjoon retorts, letting out a husky chuckle, his nose brushing down your stomach, stopping at the base of your navel where Yoongi’s fingers were diligently working their way.

(Yes, you would like that, wouldn’t you.)

“I think she has been far too mouthy this evening,” Yoongi pouts, biting down your neck again and you squirm at the painful sensation, pulling in long gulps of air. If your senses were right and you did actually have the most astute deja vu on Earth, soon you’ll be fighting for a single breath.

“I agree, I strongly agree,” Namjoon confirms almost casually as if he’s checking a box in an English Proficiency test and not shrugging off his black slacks that probably cost more than they should. His boxers stretch at a conspicuous size and you almost fearfully begin to writhe into an unknown direction.

Dreams were one thing, reality - completely another.

“Are you afraid, baby?” he asks and you throw him a petulant glare, trying all too hard not to seem small and impressionable.

“We would never hurt you, Y/N,” Namjoon says earnestly, licking and fondling your breasts. Out of sudden, almost out of nowhere, your body skyrockets and you are thrust at light speed towards release. Before you can even utter please or any other incoherent sentences, a thick wave of relief washes over you as you go limp in Yoongi’s greedy but fast-paced hands. He eases his fingers out of you, your pussy clenching around the void. Supported no more, you fall forwards, catching yourself by your forearms.

“Now, baby, remember that you can always stop, okay. Just tap, anywhere, two times, got it?” Namjoon says strictly, but kindly, tugging a strand of hair behind your ear, fingers settling on your chin. You nod but he persists.

“Y/N, I’m going to have to hear it.”

“Got it,” you force out, voice low and husky. Yoongi groans behind you and briefly you register the sound of a zipper being opened, alongside a rustling of plastic. Suddenly, you feel unready, really not prepared because you’re beginning to think that you’ve already seen the preview of this show and it will be more than you can handle.

“Just breathe, baby, breathe. It will be a lot, but we’ll ease you into it,” he says and you close your eyes. There’s a salty mixture spread on your lips before pressure is applied to your cheeks so your mouth would open wider. Inch by inch he thrusts his length into your mouth as you groan and choke around his cock, waging a fierce battle against the gag reflex. Yoongi lays down a series of kisses along your spine - a small act of comfort.

“That’s it, baby, you’re doing good, really good,” Namjoon praises and you try not to cry. You feel his hand ghost quickly over the back of your head but then it disappears. You peek up at him, for the briefest of glances. His hand is bunched up into a fist, tearing at the black satin bedsheet. His gaze is somewhere above you in the general vicinity where Yoongi is, both engaging in seemingly telepathic conversation. Asking what to do and what not to do, what perhaps would be taking too far. You quickly roll your eyes and grab Namjoon’s hand, decidedly putting it against your head. He surely would know better what he’d like or not. Plus it would be most interesting to see him lose control. Interesting for the mental side of you, not your throat which would die.

You see him smirk in appreciation and close your eyes again, blushing at the eye contact. And he thrusts into you. The sounds you make are low and not even close to the pretty, wanton moans you’d heard other girls make, but they’re real, raw. He pulls your mouth off his length, by your hair, letting you breathe. You gasp, saliva trickling down your chin.

“Now, baby, Yoongi’s about to do something, are you ready?”

Either out of your mind because of sparse oxygen or because you’re just inappropriately minded like that, you snort in muffled laughter.

“Break my back is what he’s going to do,” you dryly think to yourself and the corner of Namjoon’s lips tugs upward, in an adoring, but confused expression.

“What odd things are you thinking about now, sweetie?”

You’re about to reply but then Yoongi pushes in and you whimper in pain. It’s hot again, different hot than what you remember of being ill, but both heats erupt somewhere deep and lick flames wherever they can find. Slowly, very slowly, uttering soft praises and caresses, he finally gets all of himself in and you think you might just pass out here and now, stuffed like this. Yoongi begins gently, working your body in harmonious rolls before his grip around your waist tightens, growing so tight you worry there will be the whole imprint of his palm on the surface of your skin. His thrusts become deeper and Namjoon once again pries your mouth open.

“Ready?”

The tears drop freely down your cheeks. Long ago already you’ve given up on trying to maintain composure and long ago already you’ve lost the voice to plead fully. The house is entirely silent, it hasn’t been this quiet any time you could remember and to yourself, you wonder is it because they can hear you being ripped apart? Was it because they were taking care of themselves or each other?

You’re nearly out of it entirely in Yoongi’s hold and despite your teasing earlier, it does look like you were mauled by a pack of animals. Already now your neck and chest look blue, Yoongi has left an entire bite mark on your shoulder which you would have half-heartedly chided him for had your mouth not been preoccupied. There’s scratches alongside your back and thighs, as well as various stoutly blooming bruises. Proudly you can say they are not faring any better. You’d bitten and scratched your fair share on their skin. A fact which both of them seem ecstatic about.

“Use me as we would use you,” he had said and you listened in earnest.

But now the fact that they were two had beaten you off the path and you couldn’t give any more. Yoongi has to physically force your legs open, his long fingers pressing yet another set of bruises on your inner thigh, toying with your clit without a moment’s rest. You can only twitch pitifully at every ministration, the body naturally trying to get away from the overstimulation. On your back there drips the remnant of his cum and Yoongi nuzzles into your neck. If he could, he would purr, you reckon.

“Please, please, please,” you don’t stop breathlessly moaning but as you technically don’t tap out, it falls onto deaf ears. Namjoon thrusts his cock deep into your core, again and again, again, with wild abandon, biceps and abdomen muscles stretched to their limit. His index finger is on your lips, tugging them open - refusing to let you stifle a single moan. The obscene sounds of slapping skin fill the room, without doubt travelling further down the corridor. To other rooms and people in them. Briefly, you hear something that sounds like Hoseok’s strangled moan, as his bedroom was wall to wall with Yoongi’s but it is drowned out by low growls.

“You’re doing good, baby,” Namjoon encourages fervently, while you scratch at Yoongi’s arms, crying out, fucked out of all reason or shame.

“Just one more, just one. I know you can do it, baby. Just one more.”

It had been “one more” already an hour ago… At last, even their ungodly stamina gives out and he spills into you with a violent groan, some drops of semen slipping away and down your abused cunt. Namjoon lowers his sweaty self on top of you two and you don’t even have the strength to close your legs. You don’t have the strength to do anything. Not even to worry about a possible pregnancy.

For a long while, you all pant - slick and exhausted. The bedsheets are disquietingly damp and are bound to get only more disgusting. You try to urge them to change but nothing comes out of your maltreated throat. Namjoon waits until he softens inside of you, to slip out and you recoil at the feeling.

“Shit, baby, are you okay? Does it hurt a lot?”

It does hurt, but you’re also so happy, it doesn’t even matter. A glass of water is pressed against your mouth and you drink eagerly.

“In small gulps, kitten, small gulps,” Yoongi reminds, gently trying to brush through your hair. They get twisted in all the knots and he gives up.

When you retain more consciousness, the sheets underneath you are different. Red in colour and by the texture, linen not satin. Not that you give a shit in this particular moment. You’re tucked safely between them both, no remains of sweat or cum on your body. They’d cleaned you. For reasons unknown, it’s such a strange, endearing little detail that in time like a snowball running down a mountain it gains momentum and you try not to break underneath its weight.

“I - I - you all, so, so much,” you mumble, forcing tears back into your eyes. Still unwilling to burst into emotions in front of them or to crackle and say that one weighty word. They both fall silent. The muffled conversation they were having quieting into nothingness.

“We love you too, more than you would ever understand,” Yoongi whispers in your ear, kissing your cheek.

“See? Wasn’t this far better than our little makeshift dreams?” Namjoon says and the shoe, the one that you in secret knew has been dropping for a while, finally lands on the ground. Your stomach twists, this time entirely unpleasantly, like a squirming infestation of maggots and you fall asleep, though it feels more like just falling.

In your bones, you register only the passing of a few hours, maybe two of dreamless sleep. You stir, half expecting to see Namjoon’s sleeping face next to you but instead, your eyes unwillingly falter to a place above him. There is a book precariously balanced on the night table and on it sits the shoe from Monopoly. Your shoe. You rest your head on Namjoon’s wide chest, Yoongi shifting towards you as his breath fans your back. You tap your fingers gently against them both. Cautious and deep in thought over their words. About the expedient dreams. Ours. Yours and theirs. Common. Shared. What dreams by definition were not.

You try to rationalize, eyes still transfixed on the shoe, that what he said was merely a clumsily framed sentiment. Or perhaps even a guess that you’d dreamed of them in that way. Maybe you just hadn't been as covert as you thought. But the more you think about it the less it seems like a deja - vu or a case of an overactive imagination. They did it detail by detail, painting the reality with the visions of the night as if going through a well-rehearsed script.

You glare at the shoe, feeling some resemblance of misplaced wrath as the unease begins to settle more and more underneath your skin. It crawls and destroys any sweet lingers of promises and love they had uttered and it doesn’t take long for you to once again stumble into the idea that they are still strangers. Where did they come from, why were they here, how could they afford so much while working so little?

You reach over to grab the shoe, overcome with the sudden need to twirl in your fingertips, but Namjoon changes positions and your hand accidentally knocks down the book, along with everything on or in it. It falls on the floor and you flinch, holding in your breath. Such secrecy was idiotic but you couldn’t shrug it off. You slide in between them and off the bed, quietly touching the plush carpet. Holding your breasts, moreso out of comfort than decency, you sneakily waddle your way to the nightstand and the fallen book, half scolding yourself for taking this nonsense seriously.

The book of course fell cover first, shoe - somewhere underneath the bed. You turn the novel upright and find underneath it two photos. One is a picture of you. Recently taken as around there are the familiar lines of the hiking trail. In the photo you’re looking sideways, appearing contemplative. You would perhaps find it to be beautiful if you would actually look at it.

Your attention is seized by the photo underneath. In it were the seven figures you were most familiar with. They were walking up the hill and there is a giant wind turbine behind them. Even though the static of the picture they seem to be talking loudly to each other, none of them are looking at the camera. Instead happily taking in the sights despite the apparent cold. But it’s not the contents of the photo that catch your attention, it is the loopy script on the bottom of the yellowing edge.

“Trip to Denmark, 1975.”

(Finally.)

previous ↔ next

Trivia (from personal characterization notes):

Yoongi (naval battleship) - In a spiritual context battleship indicates that you are on your guard stop, putting up barriers to protect yourself or your "crew"

Jimin (thimble) - In a dream, a thimble symbolizes a happy relationship or marriage. You have found your soulmate and you see your relationship as an uncut diamond that needs work to show itself in its full glory

Tae (car) - Dreaming of a car means energy and freedom for those who think positive. For the ones who are in trouble, a car in a dream strongly indicates that the bad time will cross at the speed of a car

Jin (top hat) - Dreaming of a top hat can have two meanings. The first is deception or illusions, linking the hat to a magician. This could be a warning to be wary of who might be in the hat or someone close to you that might not be who they say they are

Namjoon (lantern) - In a dream, it is a warning to be careful because someone wants to harm you. They will try to leave you out of every situation that requires a serious discussion about something

Reader (shoe) - Shoes in dreams can represent endurance, protection from the environment, sometimes even subjugation and struggle, but also ambition, determination, and direction

Jungkook (Dog) - In dreams symbolizes loyalty, trust, and unreserved love. They bring general awareness, comfort, protection, and warnings. Generally, serve as a reminder not to stray off your moral path

Hobi (Purse) - Dreams of a purse represents identity or sense of self. Thoughts, feelings, or life situations that give you confidence, power, or make you feel complete as a person. A purse can also reflect emotional dependency or things you need in order to feel complete, whole, or confident

Not to bounce like a puppy, but did you notice?? The dialogue by the tree is the same as in Chapter Five (monsters)... This work has heavy continuity, anything that was ever mentioned in some way or another is mentioned again. Everything happens for a reason.

Tag list (open, if it even works I honestly can't tell):

@mayla548; @singukieee; @themasterbob; @ot7nem; @ilsan-seoul; @ithtefani; @meowsimpson; @littlrmills14-blog; @gingerspicetalks; @fixation-or-psychosis

Happy reading!

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pies-writes-and-more · 3 years

Text

infatuation

word count: 1,779

pairing: Bokuto Kōtarō x Fem!Reader

warnings: maybe some swearing, a sad boi Bokuto but just for a bit promise haha also i haven’t fully proofread this so im sorry if it makes: no sense LOL

a/n: i am falling more and more in love with this adorable himbo just look at him lol. This fic idea is honestly all thanks to @satan-ruler-of-hells because they are practically my muse in life so thank you satan ilysm <3 i hope you guys like it! Gif below is not mine - credits to the original creator!

haikyuu masterlist

Bokuto knew from the very second he laid eyes on you that he would love you with every cell in his body. He finally understood what it meant to be infatuated with someone (Akaashi had told him just the other week about the English and Japanese words for infatuation and almost immediately, Bokuto knew that that was how he felt about you). He looked at you and felt like his whole life had led up to this moment.

He spent weeks trying to get on your good side, though you just laughed a little at him and awkwardly slid away. But just like most people, you couldn’t avoid his happy-go-lucky attitude forever. He always seemed to leave you alone if you truly wanted him to, but he bounced around you like a golden retriever, grinning from ear to ear. You knew that Bokuto had quite the reputation to go 110% for anything he wanted to, and so you weren’t that surprised when a bouquet showed up at your desk before school after weeks of him flirting with you.

The volleyball captain stood awkwardly in the doorframe of your classroom as you stared at the flowers, a glow to your skin as you gently touched the petals. You liked him - you liked how honest he was about his feelings, how unafraid he was to show you, you liked that he talked so highly about his team members, that he even told you about some kids at another school that he had mentored for a bit. You really liked him, even if maybe you weren’t as enthusiastic in your actions. You turned to look at him, a smile on your lips making him sigh from relief. He shot you a wink and started to come into the class before Akaashi dragged him away, saying he also had class to attend to.

When Bokuto finally asked you out, confessing to you with a grin on his face, “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed but I really like you, Y/N-”

“Bokuto, you left presents for me every day this week and you’ve been screaming it across campus that you like me,” you pointed out with a laugh. “I think I noticed.”

Bokuto’s jaw had dropped but he still managed to pull off that wide grin of his, “Oh! Good! So you got my signals! Would you like to go out with me then? We can go anywhere you like!”

How could you say no to that adorable sweet smile?

Everyone was well aware that Bokuto was infatuated with you, he looked for you at each of his games, spun you around in tight hugs every time he saw you acting like it had been forever since he had last seen you, and you were the second most thought about topic on Bokuto’s mind (besides volleyball, of course).

He talked about you non-stop, sometimes enough to get on the Coach’s nerves and earn himself a few extra laps.

“-and then after practice today I’m going to go study with her because I’ve got that math testing coming up and she said that she would help me and-”

“Bokuto, you come off real strong ya know that?” Konoha chuckled, shaking his head slowly as he picked up another ball to practice serving with.

Bokuto tilted his head slightly, trying to decipher what his teammate meant, “Strong? What do you mean?”

Konoha just glanced at the team and smiled a little awkwardly, “I mean... don’t you ever think what you’re doing is a lot?”

The captain considered these words for a moment, a furrow in his brow the more he concentrated, “But... how is she going to know how much I like her if I don’t show her?”

“Just be glad she isn’t feeling suffocated by all your over-the-top acts of love,” Akaashi piped in, though almost immediately regretted it. His eyes glanced over at Bokuto, seeing the quick droop in his hair and expression.

“Suffocated?” Boktuo repeated with wide sad eyes. Could it be possible that you didn’t actually want him to do all the things he was doing? Could you actually hate everything he was doing and wish he would be different?

Akaashi tried to insist to his best friend that you obviously liked his actions enough to go out with him so he probably didn’t have anything to worry about, but it all fell on deaf ears. But the next morning, Bokuto decided that if it meant keeping you next to him, he would change how he was.

The next day, you were surprised to find no Bokuto standing at your locker with a smile and an eager story about something that happened at practice. You hung around just for a few minutes longer, wondering if he got held up somewhere, but eventually just shrugged it off, assuming he and Akaashi were busy.

But even throughout morning classes, you didn’t get any text messages, no memes being sent through any social media platforms, no snapchats of his bored expression when he was clearly supposed to be learning.

Was... something wrong? You thought back to the last time you saw him, just before yesterday’s practice, when he had covered your face with kisses like he always did and beamed when you told him you’d see him tomorrow. “I can walk you home if you’d like!” He had offered.

“You’ve got practice in like 5 minutes, Bo,” you rolled your eyes with a smile. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry!”

He had shouted some compliments at you as you left making you laugh more as you waved goodbye to him.

Had something been wrong then too as you hadn’t noticed?

Bokuto seemed to be dodging you during break times. You’d see a flash of his dyed hair and by the time you got to where he last was, he had disappeared again.

Was he avoiding you? Was this his way of trying to break up with you? Your expression tightened into a frown - after just a few weeks, was Bokuto trying to ghost you in the most immature way possible? Sure, you knew he was childish and didn’t like to hurt people’s feelings too much, but you never expected him to try and disappear from your life like this.

You knew he had practice tonight so at the end of the day, you waited by the gym, awkwardly giving smiles and waves to his teammates as they walked in.

Soon, Bokuto’s eyes caught yours and he froze, looking around for some sort of escape. Your heart dropped just a little - so he really was trying to avoid you.

“H-Hi Y/N,” he smiled nervously, slowly walking towards you and trying to see if he could maybe slip past you.

“Are you trying to break up with me?” You demanded, searching his eyes for guilt or sadness, or any sort of emotion really.

But Bokuto just stared at you with shock, his head tilting the way it did when he was confused (which was often, to be honest), “W-What?”

“You’ve been avoiding me all day. And you didn’t come find me in the morning... or at lunch... and you haven’t texted me all day. It feels like you’re trying to run away from me,” as you spoke, you felt a bit of shame growing in you. Were you just being clingy? Were you overreacting for no reason? Maybe Bokuto was just busy today. Maybe he just needed space. Maybe you had gotten used to him being around you had started getting too clingy to him and he needed to get away from you. “If... If you needed space you could’ve just told me.”

“I don’t need space! I thought you did!” Bokuto gaped at you, reaching out for your hand but hesitating and pulling his arm back suddenly. “I thought... maybe you thought I was too much. Or suffocating you with how much I like you. I know you’re very independent so... I didn’t want to chase you away because I like you so much.”

“Suffocating me?” You repeated in surprise. You hadn’t ever really considered that. Sure, Bokuto came on strong but there was a sort of confidence in it that you really admired. You loved that he told you what he thought with barely a filter sometimes, you loved that he showed you all the time how much he loved you because you were honestly sure you were unlovable for a while. But where you felt like you were the darkness, he was a gleaming sort of light. A happiness that you never understood but always envied, a courage embedded in him that you wanted to get to know more and more, a gigantic heart that you could never understand how or why it chose you. “Bokuto, I am... completely infatuated with you.”

Bokuto watched you, his eyes getting bigger and bigger as the seconds passed. He knew that word (now in two languages) and he knew that was exactly how he felt about you. He grinned and quickly picked you up into a hug, squeezing you tightly, “I missed you so much today. Trying to keep away from you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done,” he whined, his smile not letting up the whole time.

You laughed and snuggled into his neck, squeezing him tightly, “Don’t go ignoring me like that ever again okay! I missed hearing from you all day. You’re the best part of my day,” you told him with a loving tap to his nose, making him beam all the more.

“Never again! I promise! I’m much too infatuated with you to ever leave your side again, I swear!” he laughed, emphasizing his fancy new vocabulary and making you giggle.

“Okay okay, go practice before you’re late. Then you can walk me home okay?” You told him and he jumped up excitedly, running off to make sure that practice went by quick so he got to be with you. You just watched him with all the love in your eyes, sitting in the gym and focusing on how he moved, how he soared, how powerful he was.

As practice went on, you couldn’t contain your laughter as Bokuto scolded Akaashi and Konoha for making him believe that he was too much and coming on too strong, insisting that you were the most perfect girl in the world so of course he had to show you how much he loved you.

His words just filled you up with so much joy, you could barely sit still. You were completely in love with Bokuto, but until you were ready for those words, infatuation really did seem to fit quite nicely.

haikyuu taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added!)

@al0ehas @aurumk @neko-chii1 @thisnoodlewritesao3 @satan-ruler-of-hells @trashy-simp @jeppiet @tobi-momo @darkvadeeer @haikyuutothetop @livy384 @babyshoyo @jesssobs @b-bakana

#bokuto x reader #bokuto kotaro x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #bokuto x you

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royallyjoon · 3 years

Text

nephilim (cinq)

you know where the cred goes 💙

cult au, supernatural creature au

yandere bts x f! reader

warnings: yandere themes, physical assault, graphic descriptions of violence, manipulation, (slight) gaslighting

you were left, abandoned by mortals and immortals alike. darkness knows no bounds, and neither does punishment. there is no refuge in neither blood nor flesh from its wrath. if darkness welcomes you, should you open your arms to it in return? if darkness turns you away, does that mean you’ve won? should you choose to cast aside this lonely path of yours, and your conviction along with it, regardless of whatever other horrors lie in wait, you will be saved.

——————————————————————

What is one to do when they hear the words they’ve feared the most leave someone else’s mouth?

The moment they graced Jin’s eardrums, he gripped his phone so tightly he could hear the glass screen crack.

He and Yoongi had been assisting their father in the woods with preparations for the next meeting, the ominous hour approaching in no less than ten days.

He ignored Moonsik and Yoongi for a moment to answer his phone.

“Hello?”

He could barely make out any of Jimin’s words--the boy’s blubbering masked too much of the information.

“Robotics...bathroom...”

“Jimin, I can’t hear anything over the sound of you crying. What’s going on?”

“(Y/N)...rooftop...Aemilia...”

“What are you trying to say?” Yoongi stopped talking to the older man, shifting his gaze toward his elder brother as he noticed Jin’s voice raise in irritation and concern.

“Blood...”

“Blood?!”

——————————————————————

Jimin had walked out of robotics a little early today, bored to tears.

He had felt much better after getting rid of the idiotic gaggle that dared to threaten you, and threaten him into abandoning you.

He should have known it wouldn’t be enough. He should’ve never left your side, he thought as he kneeled on the rooftop, staring forlornly at the pool of partially dried blood on the concrete.

“She was bleeding, hyung. Aemilia or her people must have taken her, but I have no idea where they went.”

Namjoon had been in the middle of a meeting with the school board, representing the student council.

Hoseok had been in the dance studio, barking orders out at somewhat competent underclassmen.

Jungkook and Taehyung were holed up in the younger’s room, playing games rather than doing any actual work.

In short, none of them were prepared. None of them had been there for you as they had promised.

You trusted them when you needed them most, and they left you high and dry.

Jimin felt like he would never be able to get the disappointment and guilt off of his chest.

——————————————————————

Namjoon bounded into the clearing, his usually polished exterior uncharacteristically tarnished.

Hoseok appeared not long after him, having raced to the woods the moment he received the news.

They were met by Seokjin and Yoongi, who stood with their arms crossed over their chests, near a miserable Jungkook and a pacing Taehyung. Both boys had been in the house, so they were the first to arrive.

Jimin got there last, his hands and uniform pants stained red from the puddle he had kneeled in on the rooftop.

Six pairs of eyes landed on him and his appearance, confirming the worst.

“Three!” Seokjin cried incredulously. “Three of you were on campus, surrounded by a bunch of humans, and not a single one of you managed to keep an eye on her!”

“She could be anywhere,” Jungkook groaned in fear.

“By all means, please don’t start caring now. It’s too late.” Yoongi snapped at him. “You and Taehyung drove straight home to do absolutely nothing. You could at least have offered her a ride home and ensured that she was safe. You’re just as responsible as they are.”

Jungkook’s eyes grew glassy, but only because he knew his brother was right.

“As much as you enjoy playing the blame game, we have more pressing matters to address.” Namjoon interjected in an attempt to calm them down.

“That doesn’t even begin to cover it, Namjoon.” Seokjin’s icy tone sent a chill down their backs. “If we really wanted to play the blame game, we would have recognized how this is all your fault.”

The leader stood in tense silence.

“What did I tell you mere hours before this happened?” He continued, walking toward Namjoon until they were face to face. “I told you to get your shit together and to keep that girl in line. Hell, none of this would have happened if we hadn’t followed your idiotic plan in the first place.”

Seokjin was rarely ever angry enough to hiss in his brother’s face. They had all learned a long time ago that to provoke the oldest was to invoke Death.

“We all agreed his plan was the best choice at the time, hyung.” Yoongi cautiously approached the two and lay a hand on Seokjin’s shoulder, leveling a glare of his own at Namjoon. “We can deal with him later. We need to find her first.”

Jimin took the opportunity to step further into the clearing and brandished his phone, the device still open to his messages. “(Y/N) texted me saying Aemilia invited her up to roof and that she assumed it was for a confrontation of some sort.”

“Aemilia doesn’t have the ability or strength to do damage like that by herself, though.” Taehyung frowned as he gestured to Jimin’s clothes. “Unless...”

The brothers looked at each other in realization and one by one, rushed out the clearing and out the forest.

A quick drive to the center of the city and one pitifully short interrogation later, their suspicions were settled.

Hoseok growled as he re-entered the van, slamming the car door shut. “How dare he? When did he gain the courage to mobilize our own forces without our knowledge?”

“Never mind Augustus,” Jimin said, although his eyes blazed with anger. “Where would they take her?”

“That dog wouldn’t have taken her to the normal base, she has far too much malicious intent for (Y/N).” Taehyung growled.

Jungkook lightly tapped his fingers on the car door, looking out the window when the thought hit him.

“You don’t think they’d take her to...?”

His brothers looked at him in confusion, but he pointed out the window at the tree line of the woods.

Having grown up in those woods, they knew it like the back of their hand.

They knew the places were young townspeople would go to goof off, the places they had claimed for themselves, and the places that were...strictly off-limits.

It didn’t take much longer for the realization to set in.

Once it had, they took off in the direction of the forest.

——————————————————————

In your dream, you once again stood before Ichabod Chapel.

The Chapel, adorned with green vines, had long since been abandoned. Once, the walls must have been a beautiful ivory, but now they were a dark beige, having rotted with time.

A complete opposite to the image of the decrepit church, the seven Kim brothers stood on the ground in front of the entrance, visions dressed in various black silks.

Contrary to its original purpose, the material looked anything but light and airy--in fact, it looked as though it was weighed down or soaked, doused in some unknown substance.

You looked down to see that you were dressed in a white, ceremonial outfit. It billowed out like a ball gown, the sleeves drawing lacy patterns swirling up to your thumb.

When you looked up, you were stunned by the brilliant, black wings that extended from the backs of the seven men before you.

The sight of their wings enraptured you, those gorgeous appendages, feathers glossy under the moonlight.

Each of them had their own, unique set, varying in shapes and sizes, though the largest pair of wings belonged to none other than Kim Namjoon, who stood in the center of his brothers, hands in his pocket as he flashed you a familiar, mischievous grin.

Namjoon was the first to step out of the line, casually extending his hand out to you, and you hesitantly raised a dainty, (s/c) hand in return, placing it in his.

He pulled you into his arms and you felt him wrap them around you.

His brothers came to circle around the two of you, eventually joining the hug as well.

Then, the whispers began.

Their tone was loving, though their words were anything but.

They were desperate, consuming, obsessive, threatening.

They wanted you to love them, they needed you to love them, why couldn’t you understand?

Your head pounded, filled to the brim with cruel promises of tenderness and affection.

The substance from their silks seeped into your clothes, rapidly staining your white outfit red.

You realized just what it was that they were doused in and tried to pull away from their arms but they surrounded you, locking you into their hold.

The harder you fought to get out, the tighter they held on to you until you felt as though you couldn’t breathe.

Things were better this way. There’s nothing they wouldn’t do to protect you. There’s nothing they wouldn’t do for your love.

How could you scorn their love for you? How could you treat them like this?

They didn’t want to hurt anyone you cared about. They didn’t want to eliminate everyone you love in order to bring you to their side, but they would if they had to.

They paid no mind to the way you were drowning in the smell of it, drowning in blood. Was it yours or someone else’s? Was it your mother’s? Mana’s?

All you knew was that they were done playing games.

——————————————————————

Your eyes flashed open and you winced as you immediately wished they hadn’t.

Your head pounded, each thump forcing your eyes shut with the intensity, still not having recovered from the several hits it received.

For a moment it felt as though you were still unconscious and drenched in darkness, as when you tried to get a glimpse of your surroundings, you only saw shadows and moving, ambiguous shapes.

The movement of the ground beneath you, however, quickly dispelled such thoughts.

It appeared as though you were being carried over someone’s shoulder. Despite the extra weight, the person you currently rested on was light and quick on their feet, moving with a speed that made you feel worse than you already were.

The familiar crunching of leaves and branches on the ground made your heart beat just a bit harder.

According to their footsteps and what you could see of your surroundings, you surmised they had taken you to the forest.

It had been mid afternoon when Aemilia and the people who worked for her and her family accosted you at the roof. Now, there was barely a hint of the moon in your surroundings.

Did she intend to have her people tie you up to the wooden pyre and set you aflame, like some sick imitation of a witch burning at the stake? Or to make it seem as though the Kims had done it?

Despite how afraid of Mayor Kim the citizens were, there was no way everyone would believe you died in such a gaudy display.

Only the purple fire that Mayor Kim was capable of conjuring left nothing behind, after all. If they were to going to get rid of you by fire, your remains would be found.

There’s no way you could ensure that, however.

There’s no guarantee that Aemilia wouldn’t be able to make good on her promise and utterly destroy you.

A light cough broke the silence, bringing you back to the present, and you tried to calm your heartbeat. There’s no way your captors would believe you were asleep if you kept scaring yourself like this.

You felt a tight, scratchy material around your wrists and your hands laying against your back.

You successfully clenched your hands. So they hadn’t drugged you while you were out.

You were hesitant to shift, as you feared your captors would notice your cognizant state, so you resorted yourself to blinking at the ground and gritting your teeth from the pain and nausea.

Thankfully, the people you were with appeared to be none the wiser.

“Are we almost there?” A deep voice, seemingly annoyed, huffed.

“Be patient, Lee.” You felt the vibrations of the person carrying you as they replied. “This isn’t just any other job.”

“I understand, but don’t you think Miss Augustus is going too far?”

Your captor scoffed. “If you want to question the Augustuses, thereby questioning the Kims and their authority, be my guest. I just hope you and your family will be able to deal with the consequences.”

The second captor, Lee, had nothing else to say after that.

The quiet of the forest left a buzzing in your ears and the swinging sensation your body was making whilst strewn over the person’s back became too much to bear.

You figured you’d just make your captor angrier if you barfed down their back and tried to shift to draw their attention, but it was too late.

The acrid taste of bile and what you had for lunch earlier that day reached your mouth and your lifted your head, spitting out as much of it as you could.

There was a yell of anger and disgust, and your captor shoved you off of them and onto the forest floor.

You held back a shout as you hit the ground, injuring your side even further, and let out the rest of your meal.

“What the-?! This disgusting bitch!”

Your captor launched another kick at your stomach and you fought back tears as they aggravated the wounds already in place.

Lee stopped them after a while, complaining that another round of beating would just delay their job even further.

You wiped your mouth off on your shoulder and grimaced.

To your surprise, you found that you could move your legs.

The first captor lifted you to your feet by your collar, and you recognized him as Mr. Byun, the man the strawberry blonde had referred to earlier.

“Your legs still work for a reason,” he sneered and pushed you forward.

Your legs did indeed work, but were wobbly after hours of no use.

You tripped and almost fell to the floor again, the bonds around your wrists preventing you from reaching out to break your fall, when the second captor grabbed you by the back of your shirt and held you up.

“I’m not really in the mood for any of your foolishness, girl.” Lee glowered down at you. “Use your legs properly, or I’ll break them and drag you by the hair. It would be all too easy.”

You heard a suspicious click and your eyes flickered over to Byun, whose hand rested on his waist. In the other, however, he fiddled with a small lever on what appeared to be a firearm.

“Do you understand?” The second captor shook you and your brain protested, rattling around far too much for its liking.

The thought of escape, which had been curling up inside you like the beginning of a fire, was quickly extinguished. You squeezed your eyes shut and nodded.

He pushed you away from him and you walked, following him with Byun at your back, trying to think of a way out of this situation.

You couldn’t tamper with the ropes around your wrist, as Byun was watching your every move. There was also the gun, and the fact that both men were trained in the use of it as well as martial arts.

Was there truly no way to escape?

——————————————————————

The three of you walked for what felt like hours, reaching a part of the woods that you had never seen before.

Here, the trees were sparse and had already lost all of their leaves. The dark branches coiled and twisted toward the sky, as if reaching for affection that would never be reciprocated. The stumps were old, the ground hard.

And then, a clearing. But not the one you were used to seeing.

Your heart dropped as you walked between two trees, noticing the view beyond them.

You could now tell that it was well after midnight, for the sun was nowhere to be seen. Nevertheless, as always, the moon was high in the sky.

Wylynne gazed down on the clearing with a force, as if the moon goddess wanted you to see bright and clear what awaited you.

The crumbling cliff before you overlooked a tranquil lake. Clouds hung in the distance, obscuring what was undoubtedly the outside world.

The outside of Ichabod.

Such tranquility had no business here, you thought to yourself as the pace of your breathing increased.

Your captors had brought you to Lorne’s Ledge, also known as the edge of no return.

It was forbidden territory for any Ichabodian citizen.

Even before Mayor Kim came to town, even before the Augustus family had their reign: this was one of the oldest, most sacred spots in Ichabod.

The lady of the cliff, Lorne, saw to it that the forsaken never returned home.

You shuddered. The folklore didn’t scare you in the slightest. It would always be the work of man that you detested.

Yet, you couldn’t help but feel some foreign, oppressive gaze resting on you now that you were here. As if Lorne herself were staring at you, waiting for you to join her in the watery depths--

That familiar click sounded again and your eyes shot to the side. You tried to slowly turn around, but the press of metal against your back forced you to stop all movement.

Lee smirked. “We have arrived at your final destination, my lady.”

“Miss Augustus was generous enough to leave you with two options. You can walk off and take a nice rest in the lake, or you can die before your body ever hits the water.” The man smiled mirthlessly down at you. “Which would you prefer?”

You blinked rapidly, mind racing. Even if you were capable of swimming, with these injuries, you wouldn’t be able to survive the fall off the ledge,

They truly meant for you to die.

Lee didn’t seem to be in the mood for your deliberation as his cruel smile slipped into an infuriated frown. “Choose.” He growled. “My friend here would be all too happy to make the choice for you. How does a bullet in your brain and being rolled off the cliff sound?”

Byun dug the weapon into your skin and you winced, shaking your head.

“I’ll-I’ll go. I’ll walk myself.”

Your voice cracked horribly after not speaking for so many hours, but the message was received.

The metal was removed from your backside and you sighed in relief.

The man in front of you said nothing, simply stepping out of your path.

You took a couple more breaths and slowly turned to face him. “C-Can I ask you to do something? As a final request.”

He raised an eyebrow at you in response.

You titled your head in the direction of your back. “Can you untie my hands? After I disappear, there might be a search for me, and someone might try to dig through the lake for my body. A suicide will be completely ruled out if they find the ropes.”

There was no way this would work. Even the Augustuses were too intimidated to bother touching the lake for fear of Lorne’s wrath.

Besides, the police knew when and where to look, and where to say they looked. They would lie to your friends and family through their teeth.

Lee must not have been on the force for very long, however, because he grunted and pulled your hands to him.

With a slice, the ropes fell to the ground and you clutched your wrists to your chest, nodding partly in thanks and partly in disbelief.

It...worked.

You rubbed your hands together and gently blew on them, fingers numb from the cold breeze.

Your captors stood together between the trees, blocking the entrance. They murmured quietly to themselves and you continued to morph your face and body expressions into one of a pitiful teenager about to die, concealing the rather reckless thoughts you were having.

You finally turned around and walked back until you were in front of them, catching the two men off guard. They quieted and stared at you, hands at their weapons.

You met each of them in the eye and bowed, lower than you ever had before, then stood upright.

They looked at you incredulously, giving you just enough time to give Lee a harsh kick between his legs and pry the knife out of his hand.

You slashed at his neck, adrenaline returning full force, and actually managed to cut the man.

He shouted in pain and brought a hand up to the wound, trying to stop the blood.

Before you could turn to face Byun, however, the loud crack of a gunshot was heard throughout the forest and you felt a painful sting on your hand.

You yelped as you dropped the knife.

Then, there was a second gunshot and the pain returned full force, this time on your shoulder.

The elder captor, completely fed up with your actions, slammed the gun against your head and you crumpled to the ground.

You could feel something wet on your hand and clothes, but there was too much of it to be sweat in the midnight chill. You slowly lifted your hand, only to see it covered in a dark liquid.

Byun restrained Lee from attempting to beat you this time, barely casting a glance at your pitiful form.

“Calm yourself. She won’t be alive for much longer.” He gruffed. “She said she would walk herself, so walk she will. We’re just here to watch and make sure it happens.”

He stood over your form and pointed the gun at your head. “What a useless attempt. Get up.”

Your shoulder and hand burned like hell, but you complied.

You got to your feet once more and stumbled forward, every step taking you further and further away from the two.

The barrel of the gun followed your every move.

The tears you’d been struggling to hold back ran full force now at the thought of your imminent death. But rather than let your captors feast upon the sight of your defeated form, you stopped.

You were covered in blood. Your uniform was sullied by your own vomit and dirt.

But you straightened your back, ignoring the pain in your shoulder, and held your head up high.

You had reached the edge of the cliff now, but your vision was too blurry to see anything besides the vast blue beneath you.

The lake that rested below had no warmth or safety to provide for you, but neither did the forest behind you.

You considered praying to Wylynne to see if, in all her majesty and grace, she would save you.

Yet clearly, just like all the people who had come before you, just like the lady of the lake herself, the moon goddess had forsaken you.

You were tired. Too tired to fight against what some would call fate.

You whispered an apology to your mother and Mana, and perhaps even to the brothers, the reason why, you did not know.

Your eyes captured the overcast image of the outside world one last time, then you turned around and took a backward step off the cliff with a sad smile, eyes falling closed, mentally locked on that solitary picture.

Above you, you thought you heard the pained screams and grunts of your captors, sounding as though they were struggling against something or someone.

But before you, you saw your mother with her arms outstretched, that patient, loving smile on her face.

You reached forward, wrapped your arms around her, and readily slipped into darkness.

Above your falling form, a shadow zipped through the dawn, racing to reach you before you hit the water.

He saw you smile and lift an arm into the air, before the smile slipped off your face and your limbs went limp.

The large, black wings at his back beat furiously and he flew faster than he ever had before until he had your beaten form cradled to his chest.

The two of you suddenly shot upward into the air as your descent slowed, and as the first rays of daylight peeked out from above the clouds, his form hung in the air, almost frozen in time, black wings outstretched and supporting the two of you as he floated above Lorne’s Ledge.

Kim Jimin hovered, adorned in the light of the early morning sun, peering callously down at the vermin who lay trembling between him and his brothers.

Or what was left of them, at least.

Jungkook had managed to get his hands on the elder one, and the arm he had been using to carry the gun had been ripped clean off.

He was now whimpering in excruciating pain, clutching at the place where his limb had once been.

The younger one, on the other hand, lay resting against a tree.

Unmoving, his eyes unseeing.

All it had taken was one touch from Hoseok, and the man’s life force was gone, sucked out of him before he could even protest.

He was now nothing more than a lifeless sack of meat.

Taehyung picked up the body as Yoongi kicked one of the elder’s legs to get his attention.

The others stood threateningly over Byun, glowering down at him in utter loathe, as though he were a louse.

The old man whimpered, looking up and between them, then paling in horror as he saw Taehyung and Jimin.

The younger brother walked toward the elder as Jimin gently touched down on the ground, your form still protectively pressed to him. The two Kims met eyes and nodded at each other.

Taehyung turned around and flashed Mr. Byun a crazed smile before flinging Lee’s body as far as he could over the cliff.

He gaped in horror and his voice rose multiple decibels, pleads for his life escaping before he could properly think them through.

Seokjin squatted down until he was at an eye level with him, strong, black wings threateningly displayed. He grinned.

“If you think you have even any hope of escaping your friend’s fate,” he said as the smile slipped off his face, “you’re dead wrong.”

He glared at Byun with cold, amber irises. “But before we end your insignificant, paltry life, you’re going to tell us who sent you and why.”

They already had proof of Aemilia’s crime from Aloysius Augustus himself but they wanted to be sure.

He looked at the younger gentlemen with tears in his eyes. He fought through his pain and got on both knees.

“There’s no use in begging,” Namjoon stated, arms crossed over his chest. For the first time, he couldn’t find anything amusing in the matter.

“Please! We were only receiving orders, Miss Augustus--”

Before he could finish his sentence, Yoongi used Lee’s discarded knife and slashed it across Byun’s neck, silencing him in an instant.

The light left his eyes and the man’s body flopped over.

Taehyung didn’t think twice about kicking him off the cliff, either.

Now that those pests were taken care of, the seven rushed to turn their attention on you.

The bleeding from your shoulder and hand had not slowed in the slightest, and they could hardly feel your pulse.

“We need to get her to the hospital, and fast.” Hoseok said, swallowing the rising lump in his throat.

“I’m the fastest. I can take her there.” Taehyung volunteered.

The brothers agreed, and you were gently deposited into Taehyung’s arms.

“When you’re sure she’s safe, meet us back here in the woods,” Yoongi said. “You’ll know where to find us.”

"Yes, hyung.” Taehyung spread his wings and took off into the sky.

He carefully cradled you, shifting your body into one of his arms, and attempted to heal some of your worse injuries along the way.

He pressed one hand to your abdomen and began muttering under his breath, a panicked tear slipping out the corner of his eye as he peered at the extent of the damage.

Once your ribs were mostly healed, he pulled his hand away, leaving behind a canvas of dark blue, yellow, and green bruises. He winced and moved on, pressing his hand to your head.

You made no movements, body as limp as ever in his arms.

Taehyung touched down on the roof of the hospital and tucked those magnificent, black wings together, the appendages fading away as if they were never there.

He held his arm out, his palm facing the door. He only meant to unlock it, but utterly destroyed it in his haste. Quite frankly, he couldn’t have cared less.

He hurriedly walked down the stairwell and burst into the hospital’s eleventh floor lobby, reserved for VIP care and treatment.

A receptionist was working at the front desk, typing away without a care in the world.

He was interrupted by Taehyung’s shouts. “I found her in the woods outside of our home this morning--she’s badly injured, please help!”

He looked up at the boy’s outburst, eyes widening when he realized just who and what he was looking at.

He immediately called for available nurses to bring a bed and admit you to a room, then paged any available doctors.

“Do you know who she is, Mr. Kim?” A nurse asked as she examined you for damage.

He nodded. “She’s a classmate of mine, her name is (Y/N) (L/N). Her mother also works here--please notify her of her daughter’s arrival.”

The man nodded once more, sending someone else to page Nurse (L/N) from the fifth floor.

As the nurses wheeled you away, Taehyung grabbed the receptionist by the wrist and he whipped around in fear.

“This patient is very important,” Taehyung stressed, squeezing the man’s wrist harshly. “She is being admitted under the protection of Kim Moonsik himself, at the behest of our entire family. If anything happens to her...”

The receptionist gulped and nodded. “Of course, Mr. Kim. You don’t need to explain any further. We’ll do our absolute best to ensure her care and recovery.”

Taehyung glared down at him for a bit longer before he threw the man’s wrist aside and turned away from him.

He rubbed at his wrist, knowing it would bruise in a couple of hours, or perhaps even minutes.

The man returned to his desk, beginning to fill out the paperwork for your stay.

When he looked up to ask Taehyung more questions about your injuries, the boy had already disappeared.

——————————————————————

In Taehyung’s absence, the six brothers stretched out their wings and flew to a certain section of the woods behind the Kim family home.

This part of the woods remained untouched by both the Kim family and the general public. It was only the seven who came out here, and only in times of dire consequence.

Several trees in the area had fallen over, cracked in half as though hit or pushed in anger with some spectacular force.

Leaves and branches strewn all over the ground were blown away by the boys and the sudden breeze they brought, large wings disrupting the peaceful quiet of the forest.

The early morning sun peeked through the leaves, painting a picturesque view of the woods, a sharp contrast to the heavy, violent atmosphere headed its way.

Jungkook planted his feet on the ground first, tucking away his wings until they were out of sight. He angrily flicked what was left of Byun off his face, disgusted by the thick feel and metallic smell of mortal blood.

Jimin followed right behind him, then Hoseok, Yoongi, and Seokjin entered, Namjoon being the last to touch down on the forest floor.

Jimin and Jungkook met eyes with one another, their anger not even close to subsiding at the death of your captors.

Yet, soon enough, curiosity and dread brought them out of their rage when they realized just how quiet it had gotten between the older members.

Jimin shifted his gaze, the frown on his face deepening when he saw the eldest brothers’ attention turn to Namjoon, who was standing deathly still, staring blankly ahead.

Seokjin raised an eyebrow as he glared down at the younger. Namjoon refused to meet his gaze.

The six of them stayed like that for a long time, even when they heard the loud beating of another pair of wings, and Taehyung joined them in the forest.

He turned to Jimin in confusion but the older simply shook his head and grabbed for his and Jungkook’s hands, squeezing them.

Finally, after what felt like hours of silence, Seokjin spoke.

“There is no mercy for the prideful,” he stated with finality.

Namjoon flinched away at the words, eyes stuck to the ground.

“You weren’t able to uphold your oath, Namjoon ah,” Hoseok said. His words were concerned, but his tone reeked of condescension.

“And because of that, because of your utter failure, our beloved angel got hurt.” Yoongi hissed. “She almost died.”

Hoseok, Yoongi, and Seokjin took menacing steps toward the leader.

He heard his older brothers walking up to him, but refused to meet the wrath that was surely boiling in their gaze.

Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook watched on with bated breath, their hands still linked together.

Namjoon was frozen in place.

As the leader of their group, there was rarely ever a moment where he was seen as weak.

But the second he had received news of your capture, he lost even the strength to stand on his own two feet.

It was the thought of you, of saving you and bringing you to safety, that had kept him going.

It was the only thing that had kept all seven of them sane.

Now that they knew you were going to live, he knew he couldn’t avoid his punishment any longer.

Namjoon’s facial expression didn’t change, even in the moment where, with surprising speed, Yoongi lashed out at him, decking him in the face and knocking him to the forest floor.

The student body president winced, gingerly gripping his nose as blood started to leak from it.

His older brothers stood, looking down at him in a mock semicircle.

“Yoongi ah,” Seokjin said, turning to the younger, “what is the punishment for those who commit the deadly sin of pride?”

“Being broken on the wheel, hyung.” Yoongi replied impassively.

“Fortunately for you, or unfortunately, I should say,” Hoseok grinned down at Namjoon, “we don’t have a wheel.”

Seokjin stepped forward and lifted his foot above Namjoon’s right leg.

“This is what happens when you place too much pride in yourself and in your actions.” He stated, then brought his foot down on Namjoon’s right leg.

He didn’t let up until there was a sick, audible crack.

Namjoon reeled back, grunting in pain but refusing to scream.

Yes, it hurt, but he knew he deserved it. He failed (Y/N).

This is the least he could do to atone for his actions.

“All things considered, we’re being quite generous with you.” Yoongi stepped up next, kicking his broken leg aside to stomp down on his left one.

This time, Namjoon let out a jarring scream.

“You still have the audacity to scream? To feel pain?” Yoongi ground his foot into the injury as though he were trying to put out a cigarette. “Imagine how much pain our beloved is in right now. Imagine what she wouldn’t have had to go through, had you done your job properly. Had you listened to us.”

The elder had never been kind or considerate when it came to delivering punishment, a fact that the younger brothers had quickly become accustomed to.

Taehyung, Jimin, and Jungkook looked on blankly, but inside they felt a deep sense of pity.

Namjoon was their brother and their leader, the constant face of their strength.

It hurt to see him in so much pain, no matter how necessary it was.

Namjoon sat on the forest floor, both legs twisted at an awkward angle. He grit his teeth together as he tried to control his breathing.

He noticed no one else was approaching him, but he knew that the punishment wasn’t over yet, not so soon. He slowly, inquisitively lifted his head.

The eldest three looked at Namjoon expectedly. He pleadingly raised his eyebrows, but their stares held no mercy.

He bowed his head in defeat.

The senior wrapped his right hand around his left forearm and squeezed until he heard something crack.

There was the quick, soft sound of a sob coming out of his mouth, and then all was quiet.

Hoseok went last, shuffling through the leaves on the forest floor to squat next to his younger brother, wiping away some of his tears and gently running his fingers through his hair. “We’re doing this for her. Everything we do is for her, you know that as well as we do.”

Namjoon glanced at him warily, tense because he knew what was coming next, but didn’t know when to expect it.

“That’s why you’re prepared to face the consequences for your actions, yes...?”

With a sickeningly sweet smile, Hoseok wrapped his hands around Namjoon’s right forearm, breaking the bone in a quick moment.

Namjoon clenched his teeth together so hard, he swore he heard something else crack.

Any movement within the top or lower half of his body left him in excruciating pain, and he stifled a scream each time.

“You did so well, Joonie.” Hoseok continued patting his head.

They surrounded him, praising him with how well he took his punishment.

He was only able to withstand a few more minutes of cognizant thought before his eyes rolled back into his head.

Hoseok caught his younger brother, gently laying him back onto the dirt.

The six men stood in the silence, staring at the form of their treasured leader with pity.

Seokjin turned around and met each of his younger brothers in the eye. He then wordlessly walked away from the clearing and Namjoon’s broken body.

Yoongi and Hoseok followed him, blank expressions on their face.

The youngest brothers were all too quick to pick up on the message.

Overstep your boundaries, and endure the same fate.

After taking one more look at Namjoon, the youngest brothers trekked out of the forest, silently following behind the other angels.

——————————————————————

When you finally pried your eyes open, you were greeted by an unfamiliar chill.

You were cold. So cold, the chill settled uncomfortably in your bones.

White blankets were tucked around you, pristine sheets morphing to mimic your form.

For a moment, you incredulously thought that this must have been your arrival to heaven.

Then, you soon heard a monotonous beeping and you felt the subtle prick of wires along your skin, an IV casually grazing across the back of your hand.

It hurt to move your right shoulder, and your abdomen ached, the areas bandaged so tight you could just barely feel them.

There were bandages around your wrists and hand as well, and the pungent scent of ointment told you those were for your rope burns and bullet graze.

Your head injuries were also wrapped, if you deduced the source of your current headache correctly.

You were alive. Alive, and well taken care of.

“(Y/N)?”

You winced, your head not taking too kindly to the reintroduction of noise. A swivel to your right, however, and your mother’s worried face appeared.

“...Mom?” You voice cracked horribly, and she smiled and hummed in acknowledgement, lifting a water pitcher next to her and pouring you a glass of water.

You drank as if you were Tantalus himself.

“I was so worried.” your mother stated, her voice breaking right along with yours. The sound alone nearly brought tears to your eyes.

She lifted her hands and grasped your uninjured one, intertwining your fingers.

“I got paged yesterday morning and asked to come up to the eleventh floor, just to find out that you had been admitted.” Your mother spoke, answering your questions before you even got the chance to ask. “And at the request of the entire Kim family, no less. Kim Taehyung brought you in himself, claiming you’d been assaulted and found outside their door.”

You tilted your head, peering at your mother in disbelief.

She met your gaze and flicked her eyes toward the door, then back towards you without turning around. You followed their direction.

Outside the small, rectangular window of the door, there stood a tall figure dressed in dark clothing.

Your mother leaned toward you and whispered. “That woman has been standing guard since the doctors finished their checkup.”

You gulped and nodded in understanding.

“(Y/N).” Her tone shifted slightly, still holding concern but taking a solemn turn. “I never ask you questions about how school is and your life is going. We usually leave each other to our own devices, and that’s clearly been a mistake on my part. But I need you to be completely honest with me here.”

“Have you displeased the Kims in any way?” Her grip on your uninjured hand tightened to the point where all of your knuckles turned white. “If they have you here under some sort of watch until the next meeting...if they’re trying to...”

Your mother gulped, unable to finish the rest of the sentence.

Her voice lowered into a harsh whisper. “Tell me. I’ll go alert a trustworthy coworker, and I will have you out of this town before Kim Moonsik can utter another prayer.”

Your eyes widened comically. “Mom, no! Nothing like that happened. They saved me. The Kims saved my life.” You repeated, gripping her hands. “If they hadn’t brought me here, I would have-”

The weight of your words finally hit you, and before you could realize, tears gathered in the corner of your eyes. “I could have...”

You fought to speak through the trembling of your lower lip. “I’m sorry I never told you about my day, I just thought I’d be able to handle it all by myself. The police commissioner’s daughter, she was trying to get rid of me and she-Mom, she-”

Your mother cupped your cheeks as your tears cascaded down your face. She gently rubbed your lower back as you muffled your cries by burying your head into her neck.

She didn’t let you go for a while, even after you managed to collect yourself.

She poured you another glass of water and you sipped at the beverage, telling her the trials you’d faced these past couple of weeks.

“I thought it was a regular instance of bullying,” you sniffled, putting the plastic cup down. “that she didn’t want me getting too close to her crush. So I endured because I had no intention of taking anything of hers away. Who am I, in Ichabod, compared to a woman of prestige like that?” You sarcastically asked.

“But apparently, my mere existence bothered her.” You shakily recounted what had ultimately been the most terrifying moments of your life to your mother.

You obscured some parts of the story, not wanting your mother to worry even more, and claimed that the Augustus’ men had taken you to the clearing to scare you and beat you up, and that you surmised they dropped you off outside of the Kim home afterward.

By the time she finished hearing the whole story, her grip had embedded itself into the edge of the hospital bed.

Your mother’s vexation was interrupted by the sound of people speaking outside your door.

“Ma’am, I apologize. By the order of Kim Moonsik, only family members are allowed to visit the patient right now.” The figure outside your door spoke with an uninterested tone.

“With all due respect, officer, please don’t assume my gender.” You heard a familiar voice snipe. “My best friend is lying in there and she’s practically a sister to me. I don’t particularly give a damn about your order. Kim Moonsik can kiss my-”

“Mana!” You yelled, trying to catch both of their attention before your best friend could get themselves arrested.

You flipped the hospital blankets off of you and your mother helped you to your feet, then to the door. The injuries on your abdomen and head protested with every step.

The guard’s eyes widened a bit as you slid the door open, and so did the eyes of every hospital staff within sight of your room.

“Ms. (L/N), I implore you, please go back to bed to rest!” A nurse in the hallway rushed over.

The guard hastily nodded in agreement. “Yes, please do. I sincerely apologize for the commotion.”

You waved them off, reaching a hand out to Mana. “I'll go back to bed, but only if you let Mana in. They’re family.”

Mana stood in the hallway, hurriedly dressed in sweatpants, a disheveled oversized hoodie, and sneakers, but gingerly holding a teddy bear with a card.

The guard looked between you, Mana, and the nurse for quite some time. The nurse’s frantic expression must have convinced her, though, because she finally stepped aside.

Mana extended their arm, gently grabbing your hand in return and waltzing past the security guard with a smug expression.

The moment the three of you were back in the room, however, they ushered you back to bed as well.

“(N/N)!” Mana said, going to hug you, then rethinking it when they spotted all the bandages.

They placed the teddy bear in your arms and stood a card that cheerily read “Get Well Soon!” on your nightstand. “How are you feeling? I’m so sorry--I should have been there with you!”

“My head and chest hurt, but I’m alright.” You shook your head with a small smile, clutching the doll to your chest. “Don’t apologize, you had no idea this was going to happen. This was all the result of my stupid decision--I was the one who fell into her trap.”

Your mother excused herself, leaving you and Mana alone for a few minutes.

You filled them in on what had happened to you, withholding no details, and their face lit up in anger. “She ordered them to take you to Lorne’s Ledge?! That psychotic cunt! Just wait until I drag her across the square, we’ll see how high and mighty she is then-”

“Mana, calm down.” You smiled, thankful for your friend’s protectiveness, but weary after everything you’d just gone through.

“I never want to stoop to her level,” you admitted, wringing the sheets in your hands.

Your mother gently slid open the door, returning with water and a tray of food for you.

“I think...I’ve had enough of mind games and tricks for a while.” You whispered, then smiled at her as she lay the meal in front of you.

Mana’s gaze turned soft, and they patted your hands and back in support.

“I don’t even want to think of what would have happened if the Kims hadn’t gotten there in time.” your mother muttered.

You nodded in agreement.

You weren’t particularly sure how or why, but the Kims had saved your life.

Not only had they offered you some of the best care in the city, free of charge, but they even stationed people outside your room.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, something told you that holding them with such a mindset would put you exactly where they wanted you to be.

Yet something else countered that thought, claiming that it was that same distancing mindset that had pushed you into the arms of danger in the first place.

Perhaps Mayor Kim felt responsible for it because his men got usurped by a high school girl.

Or, perhaps, it was his sons who felt even more responsible.

Your mother and Mana stayed with you the rest of the night, each taking up their own positions on the furniture. Mana draped themself on the couch while your mother took the armchair.

You allowed yourself to drift off to the sound of them breathing, the chill and fear of the previous morning now a distant, foreign thing.

——————————————————————

Your mother and Mana weren’t constantly at your side, as one had to attend to her duties at work and the other had to go to school.

There were other individuals who were perfectly happy to waste the day with you, though.

On the first day, you were visited by Jimin.

The sophomore’s usual high-energy self was nowhere to be seen as he stepped into your hospital room holding a small bouquet of (your favorite flowers).

Jimin rushed at you, barely giving himself enough time to greet him before he fell to his knees in front of your hospital bed.

You gasped aloud in surprise and urged him to stand, but he would have none of it.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N).” His eyes glistened as water streaked down his cherubic face. “If I had read your message earlier, if I hadn’t been so stupid to turn my phone off, you never would have gotten hurt like this.”

You winced as you pulled yourself to the edge of the bed, your hand only hurting slightly less than it had before. “You didn’t know at the time, I wouldn’t blame you for that. When you did know, you rushed to help me. That’s something I will be forever grateful to you for.”

You exhaled and smiled your rare, genuine smile, a warm countenance on your face that pierced Jimin’s soul. “So please,” you held your hand out to Jimin.

The boy looked up, pitiful expression morphing into a delighted smile. He gently took your hand and stood, then ushered you to rest comfortably back at the top of the bed.

The two of you spent the rest of the day talking, Jimin distracting you from your current situation with stories about his family and their travels.

By the time you realized you’d never gotten answers to your questions, the sun was starting to set and you were having trouble keeping your eyes open in the middle of Jimin’s conversation.

If the raven haired boy had noticed it, he didn’t say anything.

If anything, he continued speaking, his voice low and chiming with laughter as he recounted precious memories.

When he heard the familiar sound of your soft, slow breathing, he stopped. He simply gazed upon your visage, smiling at the way your (s/c) skin lit up in the afternoon sun and held a hand up to block the light from getting in your eyes.

He stayed that way for the next several minutes, then gently caressed your cheek, letting his hands linger for shorter than he would have liked.

Once the night was well underway, Jimin collected his things and left your side with one more forlorn look.

He shot a strict gaze at the guard, who gulped and nodded at the unspoken order.

Finally, he turned and walked down the hallway toward the elevators.

——————————————————————

On the second day, you were visited by Taehyung. You were still asleep when he first came into the room, but your mother was sitting beside you and her eyes widened when she saw him.

Before the younger boy could even speak, the older woman bowed low in gratitude.

Few people had ever seen your mother in a vulnerable state, you included, as she purposefully made it so.

Taehyung was a rare exception that day as he gently gripped her shoulders, feeling the slight trembles that coursed through her as he straightened her posture.

Suppressing an amused smile, Taehyung thought of the differences between you and his supposed mother.

While the actress trembled out of fear for her own life, your mother shook at the thought of losing you.

As expected from the woman who raised you, their perfect treasure.

“I can never repay you for the hospitality you’ve shown my daughter,” your mother whispered.

“There’s no need for such matters, Ms. (L/N). We’ll always protect and watch out for your daughter. We’re honored to have her in our lives.” Taehyung replied with a sincere tone.

She accepted the flowers he brought, carefully laying the bouquet on your nightstand, right next to the vase where Jimin’s flowers lay.

When you did wake up, you had your own chance to thank Taehyung for finding you and bringing you to safety, along with sponsoring your stay in the hospital.

He waved away your thanks, claiming that he was simply glad that you had turned to Jimin for assistance so that they were able to know about it.

“You know we’ll always be there for you, right (Y/N)?”

Always.

“Just say the word and we’ll come running.”

We love you.

His heart ached with the weight of the words he couldn’t say.

But you smiled in appreciation and he melted, as it was the smile they had longed to see for so long. The one that you usually reserved for your mother or Mana, the one that they had only gotten glimpses of in the time that they had known you.

He wouldn’t let you do anything for yourself the entire time, claiming you needed to rest up and heal as soon as possible. You reluctantly agreed, enjoying an unusually lazy day.

He played music for you, and soon enough the two of you were lost in a passionate conversation about your favorite artists. Funnily enough, there were several of them who you shared interest in.

Before Taehyung returned home for the day, he insisted on covering you with the blanket as well, tucking it up to your neck and pressing it in at the sides.

Your eyes were closed out of embarrassment as his form hung over yours.

He fought the urge to bend down and kiss your forehead, for he still feared that he could frighten you away.

Instead, he reached up and switched off the light directly above your bed. With an ambiguous smile, he left, closing the door behind him.

——————————————————————

On the third day, you were visited by Jungkook.

The atmosphere was a little awkward at first, considering how soft-spoken the freshman tended to be around you.

When you tried shifting the conversation by asking him about his personal interests and passions, however, his eyes lit up.

Jungkook demonstrated several different types of punches for you in the room, even helping you weakly set up your form with your still healing hands.

You learned much more about boxing forms and gaming techniques that day than you could ever remember, but you did leave with plans to have private self-defense lessons with Jungkook after you’d finished healing.

At some point during his visit, you had drifted off and by the time you woke up again, Jungkook was already gone.

You panicked slightly, worried that he’d be upset and think that you wanted him to leave. As you turned to your phone, however, you noticed a folded piece of paper resting on top of the back of it.

When you opened the paper, you saw a beautiful pen-and-ink sketch of you, lying in your hospital bed and napping.

Jungkook had somehow taken your messy, disheveled state and turned it into something that evoked a tender feeling within you.

You grinned down at the paper, amazed by his talent. Was this how he saw you? As this...ephemeral, peaceful being?

You gently stood the paper up so that it rested between the two vases that housed Jimin and Taehyung’s flowers, right next to Mana’s card.

The afternoon soon gave way to evening, then evening to night.

——————————————————————

On the fourth day, Seokjin saved you from the monotony of bland, hospital food by bringing you home cooked meals.

The mere smell of the dishes had your mouth watering.

He refused to let you do anything yourself, much like Taehyung had the other day. But unlike Taehyung, Jin went so far as to feed you himself.

It was embarrassing, but no matter how much you protested, he wouldn’t let up.

He sat in the chair your mother usually preoccupied and held the utensils out to you, neatly making sure you finished your meals.

At one point, he pretended the food was an airplane and you playfully slapped his arm, resulting in him dissolving into a surprising windshield-wiper-like laugh.

Jin spent the rest of the day with you, telling you awful jokes that under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t have found that funny.

His companionship was greatly appreciated, however, and you found that you grew surprisingly fond of his laugh.

Before Jin left for the evening, he gently lifted your hand and placed it in his lap, then revealed another bag he’d brought on his visit.

To your surprise, he clipped a small (silver/gold/rose gold) bracelet around your wrist. The ornament carried two charms: one of a well-detailed moon, the other a pair of angel wings.

You rushed to have him take the bracelet off, hesitant to accept such a valuable gift.

Yet the look in his eyes pierced right through you, his previous joy still present and glimmering but hidden beneath the depths of something more sinister.

You leaned against your pillows as Jin gently lifted the back of your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to it, just like he had the first night you met.

“The moment I saw it, I thought of you.” He smiled, affectionately rubbing his thumb over your wrist. “Keep it. For me?”

It wasn’t a request.

——————————————————————

On the fifth day, you were visited by Hoseok and Yoongi.

You were slightly surprised at the fact that they had come together, as their outer attitudes seemed to be opposites, but you found that they complemented each other very well.

They were extremely considerate of you, allowing you to do things for yourself but offering their assistance should you need it.

Hoseok spent the day cheering you up by performing routines for you in the little space the room provided.

As strict as he was infamous for being, Hoseok clearly knew his craft. You were mesmerized by his movements and insisted on clapping for each of his performances, your hand healing quite nicely now.

Yoongi delighted you with tales of his rambunctious actions in high school, and some of the best well-kept faculty secrets.

There were several things you learned about Ms. Divii and Mrs. Hargrove that day that you would have been perfectly happy not knowing for the rest of your life, but you giggled and gossiped all the same.

It appeared as though the elder Kim brothers had a similar thought process, as Hoseok and Yoongi each gifted you (silver/gold/rose gold) jewelry similar to what you had received the day prior.

Hoseok looked as though we was going to cry when you went to turn down his gift.

One sharp look from Yoongi later, you closed your mouth, smiled, and expressed your thanks.

Hoseok fondly clipped the necklace onto you, his heart performing somersaults as you leaned into his embrace.

He silently gulped, overcome by the sudden desire to press his lips to your neck.

When he made eye contact with Yoongi over your shoulder, his face reddened slightly as the elder smirked at him.

He reigned in the perceptible want in his eyes and leaned back, flashing you his signature smile. “There you are, angel. Pretty as a picture.”

You lowered your head to hide your flush. “You guys really don’t have to bring me these gifts,” you murmured lightly.

“With a visage as perfect as yours, we simply can’t help ourselves.” Yoongi stated in reply, lifting your ring finger to slide a band onto it.

How unfortunate it was that it was the right hand instead of the left.

He was able to hide his disappointment from you, but not from Hoseok.

Nevertheless, there would surely be an opportunity in the near future.

How else would all of those worthless people know that you belonged to them?

——————————————————————

On the sixth day, Namjoon limped his way into your hospital room, a grimace on his face.

You greeted him with a warm smile that quickly shifted into a worried expression. “Oh goodness, are you alright?”

Namjoon nodded, taking the seat next to your bed. “I injured my leg, it’s nothing serious. I should be perfectly alright soon.”

Seokjin had been kind enough to heal most of his limbs, the elder worried about your reaction to seeing him in such a state.

They purposefully made him wait in agonizing pain for nearly a week, however, to rub the punishment in, before clearing him to go visit you.

It seemed as though the student body president had lost his usual self-assured, constantly amused atmosphere. He was strangely quiet, and his body language was similar to that of a man who’d been beaten into submission.

That was far from the Kim Namjoon you knew.

For several moments, the two of you sat in awkward silence.

The two of you hadn’t been on the best of terms the last time you spoke. Just thinking back to that moment when he’d felt like he was on top of the world, completely in control, made him cringe.

Then, you turned and smiled at him. “You know, if you really need to, you could always join me as a patient. It’d definitely make the days less boring.”

Namjoon knew you knew there was a change in his attitude, and rather than lording that over him, you simply welcomed him as you usually did.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N).” The words blurt out before he could stop them.

You shook your head, slightly amused. “What’s with you and Jimin these days? You don’t need to apologize for saving me. Unless you want to, and, well, that’s a completely separate manner--”

“No!” Namjoon lifted his hands up and waved them around. “I just-"

You smiled, entertained by the frantic side of the normally suave, composed teen. “Think nothing of it, Namjoon. You have nothing you need to apologize to me for.”

Your expression darkened slightly as you continued. “If anything, I should apologize for not trusting you all more.”

Namjoon’s lips quivered, desperately wanting to form a victorious smirk, but he settled for an understanding smile.

In the end, he’d been right.

As usual.

“Who remains close to you, who you decide to trust, that’s completely your decision. You should never have to apologize for it.” Namjoon said.

You smiled in acknowledgement, then furrowed your brows in confusion when Namjoon started to dig around in his bag.

“I heard we were gift giving this week.” He pulled out a beautiful, leather bound journal and fountain pen and carefully placed the items on your lap.

“This is absolutely gorgeous. How did you know I like writing?” You smiled.

Of course he knew. He knew everything about you.

“I didn’t,” he replied, shrugging with a small smile. “I like to write in journals as a form of catharsis, and thought you might want to try.”

“Thank you so much.” You lifted an arm up and gestured for a one armed hug, one that Namjoon happily accepted.

Clutching the journal to your chest, you gathered the courage to ask him the question that had been running around in your head the past week.

“Namjoon?”

“Yes?”

“How did you guys find me in time?”

The elder clenched his jaw and shifted his gaze aside as if he couldn’t beat to direct his apparent anger and frustration toward you.

“We heard from Jimin that Aemilia took you and interrogated the police commissioner about any of our private guard’s movements. He fessed and told us that Aemilia told him that I texted her, claiming that there was another soul in need of punishment.”

Namjoon grit his teeth, vexation rolling off of him in waves as he practically hissed out his words. “He authorized members of our private force to move under her order in order to subdue you.”

Recounting the ridiculous lie that the redhead told her father, and the father’s idiotic tendency to believe her, made his blood hot.

“After we heard that, we rushed to all the places in the forest that the Augustus men might have taken you. Thankfully, we got to Lorne’s Ledge in time and Jimin was able to save you before you could fall off the edge.”

“Are you sure?” You said. “I could have sworn I stepped off...I thought I was a goner.”

Namjoon shook his head. “We definitely got there in time to save you. You sustained several head injuries, so I’d understand if you didn’t see Jimin or blacked out.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, pondering his response for several moments before nodding at his answer.

There was no way you would ever be able to forget what happened that night.

You knew for a fact that your feet had left the ledge.

But he was right, you did take several nasty hits from Byun and Lee.

You wanted to keep asking him questions, but the pained, forced look in his eye made you pause on that front.

Perhaps that projection you saw of your mother had actually been Jimin.

You wrung your hands together.

“What matters now is that you’re safe and sound.” Namjoon gently placed his hand atop yours and gave it a supporting squeeze. “All you need to focus on is getting better. We definitely won’t let them get away with this.”

You nodded again, smiling slightly at Namjoon in thanks for his concern.

——————————————————————

Halfway across town, Aemilia Augustus paced around in her room, practically biting off her perfectly manicured nails in worry.

It had been seven days.

Seven days of nothing.

Not a single word had come in from Byun or Lee.

When she arrived at school that first day and heard everyone talking about your absence, she felt pure and utter bliss.

There was no joy like the joy she felt in that moment.

Such euphoria simply couldn’t be replaced.

The only moments that could possibly top it were her future engagement with Kim Namjoon, or the day she would take over her family business.

Because so many days went by without a single peep at your face, she thought her plan was working.

She felt on top of the world.

But Byun and Lee were two of the most promising soldiers on the squad. There was no reason as to why they were taking so long to get back to her to confirm your measly little death.

As a result, she was starting to panic.

Of course, she had an emergency plan.

She had no need for it, as there was no way her plan could go wrong, but she always had to be prepared, after all.

Just as she was about to take deep breaths to calm herself down, she jumped at the sound of pounding footsteps and yelps drifting into her room from downstairs.

She heard the annoying cry of her mother and father, and then the sound of several people talking.

A grim chill fell over her.

Unexpectedly, her plan had gone horribly, horribly wrong.

There wasn’t much time left now, as she could hear the footsteps get closer and closer.

To hell with her parents--their capture was inevitable.

Aemilia Augustus would not be captured like a criminal, not as long as she was alive and well.

Aemilia padded over to her bedroom door, shutting it closed as softly as possible and smacking the lights off.

She dove into her walk-in closet and squeezed herself as tightly as possible into a corner, a rack of evening gowns and day dresses covering her.

Every couple of minutes, a door would slam open and she listened, holding a hand over her mouth as the pounding feet searched every room on her floor.

It didn’t take them long to arrive at her room, and she shook as she heard them throw things around.

A rectangle of light shone into the room as someone opened the closet door and Aemilia stilled as though she were encased in ice.

It was silent for a long, dreadful moment. The officer turned their head this way and that, walking into the room and turning on the light to search.

From where Aemilia was hidden, there was no way they would be able to find her. She thanked Wylynne that she hadn’t taken up on her mother’s offer to hire a maid to clean her closet.

The officer turned away to leave and Aemilia cheered in her heart.

After the guards left the premises, she would collect as many valuables as possible from the house and run off to her family’s private home in another part of town. From there, she would plan what to do next.

Her plan wasn’t perfect, but she would be able to get away with it.

Or at least, she thought she would.

Just as the officer was about to close the door, a strong, invisible force yanked Aemilia out from her hiding spot and she came crashing down noisily from behind the evening gowns, taking a few with her.

The officer immediately turned around, beckoning his partner to get her.

She hurriedly gripped a platform heel and attempted to plunge it in the man’s eye, but he caught her wrist and painfully twisted her arm behind her back.

The redhead screeched in fury and pain. His partner soon joined him, and they dragged her out into her room, each officer tightly holding on to one of her arms.

“What are you doing? Unhand me this instant!” She shrieked, writhing around in an attempt to escape. “Have you forgotten who you take orders from?!”

“No, but it seems as though you have.”

She paused at the sound of that familiar voice.

Her beloved casually strode into the room in all of his glory, his head held high, that ever present cocky, amused smile that she loved so much on his face.

“Namjoon.” She whimpered. “Namjoon, they’re hurting me.”

The student body president kneeled down in front of her and gently took her chin in his hands.

Her eyes filled with tears and she stuck out her bottom lip, waiting for Namjoon to tell the men to let her go. They better anticipate the earful they were about to receive. How dare they treat their future queen this way?

Namjoon lovingly stroked her cheek with his thumb, wiping away her tear. She nuzzled her cheek into his hand, looking up at him with a pitiful gaze. He smiled at her.

Surely he would save her.

Aemilia closed her eyes, suppressing a victorious smile as she felt Namjoon pull his hand away from her face.

But rather than the sound of him barking orders, she was met with the sound of a harsh slap.

Her eyes flew open in shock.

Her face stung.

“Nam..joon...?” She whispered, stupefied.

The senior was sneering down at her, pulling a handkerchief out the square pocket of his jacket and wiping his hand on it.

“What disgusting thoughts you have,” the man spat, dropping the handkerchief in another subordinate’s hand.

“Burn that.” He commanded.

Aemilia simply stared up at him in disbelief.

Had he...hit her?

“Namjoon, why are you doing this?” Her voice trembled. “You’d never hit me, you’re my...we’re-”

“Nothing.” Namjoon interrupted with a disinterested gaze. “I am not your anything. I’ve never given you any inclination that could lead you to assume that I loved you, or liked you, or cared for you in the slightest.”

Aemilia dropped to her knees in incredulity.

“That’s not true! You cared for me, I know you did! Ever since that (h/c) haired bitch appeared, you’ve turned away from me!” She screeched, her shrill voice piercing their ears. “I should’ve gotten rid of her sooner!”

As soon as the words left her mouth, all the air in Aemilia’s lungs disappeared. She heaved her chest, trying to breath, but found herself unable to.

He squatted down to face her.

“Let’s get one thing absolutely clear.” Namjoon spoke in a frighteningly low tone. “I never cared for you. You were nothing more than a useful little pawn in my game. A pawn who somehow tricked herself into believing she could become a queen.”

Her face turned redder and redder from anger, embarrassment, and the lack of oxygen.

“(Y/N) is more of a queen than you could ever be,” Namjoon stated, smiling at the memory of you sitting up in your hospital bed, grinning at him, the sun forming a halo behind your head. “She’s an angel. Our precious everything.”

He turned his gaze back to the creature before him. “She isn’t someone the likes of you can ever attempt to touch, much less harm or overthrow.”

Namjoon straightened, moving to walk towards the entrance to her room. “That’s my fault, I’m afraid. After all, I wasn’t able to properly regulate my inferiors.”

Black dots swam at the edge of Aemilia’s vision. She kept her eyes locked on Namjoon, still praying that this was all a prank or a joke, and that he would comfort her by sweeping her up into his arms.

“You truly have no idea what’s going to happen to you, do you?” He chuckled with a mirthless smile. “Don’t worry. We’ll fix that soon enough.”

Finally, her body gave in and shut down from the lack of oxygen. The redhead flopped over on her side, Namjoon’s cruel glare burned into the backs of her eyes.

——————————————————————

On the morning of the seventh day, you took advantage of your solitude by pondering the events of this week and the rather complicated emotions that came with them.

Despite their reputation and despite your fears, you had grown closer to the Kims over the past month.

They never threatened or harmed you or the people you cared about. They had welcomed you into their lives with open arms.

You had kept them at an arms length in an effort to protect yourself and your loved ones. But what had distancing yourself from them gained you?

Still, there was no way your method could be wrong. It was your livelihood, your path to survival in Ichabod.

There were rules here, rules that couldn’t be broken.

Yet the majority of those rules had been broken the moment you invited Jimin to sit with you at lunch.

Was it even possible that an alternative path to salvation freedom existed?

Had the Kims truly provided another way?

Your mother went around the room collecting and packing up your things for you as Mana helped you change in the bathroom, making sure to be careful of your still-healing shoulder.

When they left to fetch your discharge papers, you sat at the edge of the hospital bed and deliberated what could potentially be one of the most important decisions of your life.——————————————————————

i am so, so, so sorry for taking longer than usual to post! college and midterm season caught up with me--i’ll try not to let assignments interfere with my writing schedule in the future ;-;-; thank you so much for sticking with me through the wait! the long awaited day has finally come! revenge has never been so sweet hehe. also, the way that i have no idea how to write fight scenes--pfft. i hope you all enjoy the chapter <33

~taglist~

@melaninkpops @loserwithapen @hellaspookystudent @ecillartto @omgsuperstarg @ace-angel-judas @jjamsbangtan @lovinggalaxies @lovesick-heart0 @ksxmpoison @girlmeetsliv3 @thedarkwinterrose @purpuravm @oneweirdbean @hopelessfountainjoonie @mazmaz30 @enigmaticlove-03 @uppiespuppy @queenceline22 @kokofikats @taeyohonic @creatorspalace @supertweetycherry @anachikartadze @itsfeliciatime

#yandere x reader #yandere bts x reader #yandere jung hoseok #Yandere jeon jungkook #yandere kim namjoon #yandere kim seokjin #yandere kim taehyung #yandere park jimin #yandere min yoongi #yandere bts au #high school au #bts cult au #supernatural creature au

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omniscientwreck · 3 years

Note

Let me combine both of your favorite things! I would love a little thing about Caduceus (in his infinite wisdom and questionable intelligence) trying to give either Essek or Caleb relationship advice that may or may not be actually helpful. Those two wizards are probably too much in their own heads to see what's right in front of them and could use a little nudge. Just imagine both of them going to Caduceus for advice on how they're attracted to the other and Caduceus just sitting there trying to fight to urge to facepalm.

Hello! Thank you for combining my two favourite things into this fic that took way too long but I'm quite pleased with! I hope you enjoy!

In which Caduceus has three conversations with two wizards fighting against a force bigger than either of them.

----------

The first of these conversations Caduceus had was expected. Gardening alongside Essek, teaching him how to sow beauty where destruction had laid waste had been therapeutic for both of them. Caduceus had never given up on the war criminal. It’s difficult to feel no sympathy for someone whose story was written across their face in blank but pleasant stares and a mask of platitudes.

The state he’d been in when they met him at the outpost had filled Caduceus with determination. He’d been as close to a wreck as they’d ever seen him and now kneeling alongside him and looking over to see a small self-satisfied smile as he observed the work they’d done, it feels like they’ve done something right. This second chance had been well earned and he has faith that Essek will continue to earn it for the rest of his days.

This Essek is determined to right wrongs, and he’s started with the garden. He pays careful attention to the plants, always asking if he’s unsure about the compatibility of certain species, and making sure to put them exactly where they tell him. When they work past the point when the sun disappears behind emerald leaves he takes off the gloves Jester had made him and digs his hands into the ground. It seems to bring him peace, it’s good that he’s found any.

Most of the time when they work it’s silent, creases pressed into Essek’s forehead. He sweats through the layers that serve to keep him safe from the heat overhead and always has to be cajoled into taking breaks or drinking water. It reminds him a bit of Yasha.

On the third day, when he’d nearly gone faint Caduceus has to intervene, “You don’t need to hurt yourself to repent you know.”

Essek takes great care to swallow and not choke on the water he’d been sipping, bad timing. The mask comes up again, “I don’t know what you mean.” he states flatly. He knows that Caduceus is smarter than that and it shows.

“Hurting yourself doesn’t change anything. It’s the creation of beauty here that tips your scales, not the destruction of yourself.”

He nods slowly, indigo eyes downcast. “I suppose you’re correct. I have much to atone for Caduceus. There is much work to be done before I will deserve any of the kindness you foist upon me.”

“Hey now, I decide who deserves my kindness. We all do.”

Essek nods again, running a dirt stained hand through his silver hair. It leaves streaks of dirt, Caduceus says nothing.

“It’s difficult to be made aware of your stark moral failings, to learn what it means to truly care for someone again. It’s difficult to care more than you expect and to know what is enough, if anything is.”

His eyes flick behind Caduceus, where he can hear Caleb explaining something to Luc and he understands more than Essek probably wants him to. “You’ll find enough.” Essek looks at him, eyes full of a delicate hope, easily shattered, “He’ll tell you when it’s enough.”

His eyes widen just slightly and a deep blush spreads across his face alongside a smile so small it’s like he doesn’t want to let himself accept the barrage of feelings it holds back. “If.” His voice is small but the weight is heavy in the tone.

Caduceus reaches a hand to cover one of his, “When. Remember, I see things the rest of you don’t.”

Essek smiles wryly at that, voice full of mirth, “Of course Mr. Clay the ever observing.”

They go in for dinner and Essek speaks up a little more, he’s a little more alive. The change is small, but Caduceus notices.

----------

The second conversation is less expected, completely unexpected if he’s being honest. Caleb arrives at the doorstep of the grove one evening around 8 months after they’d last seen each other. “Hallo friend, I hope I am not intruding.”

His smile is easier now, though still restrained by sadness. “Not at all Mr. Caleb you are always welcome here. There should be left overs from dinner, fix yourself a plate.”

Caleb allows himself to be ushered in and fussed over. He tells a few stories of the trial but Caduceus tries to steer away from that particular vein of conversation. It’s raw and it doesn’t look like he’s fully healed. There’s still one catch somewhere that he needs to loose himself from before the smile will be easy and free, before he can walk away from his past and toward the future.

“I am going to Aeor next.”

Ah.

When Caduceus doesn’t say anything he continues, voice laced with trepidation, “I am going to ask Essek to join me.” he wants Caduceus to convince him of something.

“Well, two wizards is better than one.” He eyes Caleb knowingly and the wizard squirms a bit under his gaze.

“It is just, a little strange isn’t it? The directions we are led in.” He trails off again, maybe he’s hoping for wisdom. Caduceus decides he can probably dispense something.

“You’ve never seemed like someone who wanted much to be herded into decisions to me.”

“It’s been a journey.”

Caduceus clears his dish and sets down a teapot, “It’s a journey you’re still on. One that might not have a definite end. Is it worth it to deny yourself happiness because you’re worried about whether you deserve it?”

That caught him a little off guard, copper hair shook a bit as he’d clearly gone a little further than Caleb was expecting. He likes to talk in metaphors so that he can hide from truths later, or at least pretend everything can have multiple meanings. It’s time for Caduceus to stop letting him twist words around in that expansive brain of his until the original meaning is obscured by hypotheticals.

“I cannot tell you what’s right Caleb, but if you came here for a reasonable perspective listen to the one I’m giving you.” He pours the tea and offers honey, “You will never know if you don’t go and I know you better than you think. You don’t like loose ends, not as long as there’s something to learn.”

He nods, staring into tea, they’re so similar and so stubborn that Caduceus can feel the loving annoyance usually directed at his siblings creeping in. “Caleb, stop punishing yourself for something that wasn’t your fault in the first place.” Caleb nearly interrupts but Caduceus keeps barrelling through, “Self-flagellation won’t get you anywhere, you’ll just end up with regrets and what ifs. Go explore Aeor, forget everything else for a bit. Do that thing the two of you do where you’re finishing each other’s sentences and nobody knows why you’re bothering to speak out loud because it’s obvious you’re thinking the same things.”

Caleb’s smile is smaller now, but lighter. “Ja mein Freunde, I think you will. Thank you for tolerating questions I don’t know how to ask out loud.”

Caduceus smiles back, “I think this will be good. If you need anything while you’re there don’t hesitate to reach out. Stock up on healing, you’ll need it.”

Caleb laughs at that and spends the night, before heading to Zadash the next morning, undoubtedly to clear out Pumat’s stock of healing potions.

----------

The third time this conversation is had it’s his fault. He doesn’t mean to start it, but honestly the situation is getting ridiculous and the sibling feelings Caduceus has to both the wizards are firmly cemented.

They decide to get everyone together maybe a year after the last conversation. It’s his first time seeing any of them since then and as soon as they’re all in the same room it’s like no time has passed at all. Essek had come to get him while Caleb gathered the rest at Beau and Yasha’s home in Rexxentrum. Jester wraps him in a crushing and loving hug, Beau gives him a punch that’s soft for her but still stings, Yasha offers clippings of flowers immediately, and Fjord’s hug is warm. Veth’s family is here and she looks happier than he’s ever seen her. Caleb greets him with the warmth that’s always burned behind eyes that hold less and less sorrow every time he sees him. He hopes they’ll drop it all together one day.

When they pop back into existence from the way Caleb and Essek look at each other Caduceus expects something to happen. He doesn’t know what exactly but they hold each other’s eyes in a profound way. There’s gravity to them and everyone can feel it, he’s getting tired of watching them fight it.

It seems so simple even though he doesn’t feel that kind of pull, to see where this is going. It’s feels like the days before a big storm, when everyone knows what’s coming and it’s getting a little ridiculous that you’re still waiting for lightning to strike.

Everyone else drinks, they cook and eat and tell stories. Caleb and Essek sit apart but spend the entire time stealing glances across the table when they don’t think the other is looking. Nearly always they catch each other.

Yasha plays on the bone harp, she’s gotten very good and Jester swings Veth around into a dance. Kingsley, three sheets to the wind, grabs Beau and whips her into a reluctant dance and her initial protests eventually bubble into laughter. Caleb sits beside Caduceus and Jester has switched to twirling a flustered Essek across the floor of the livingroom. It often turns to dancing with these people and he loves that they love it so much.

“As I recall you’re an excellent dancer Mr. Caleb, go cut in.”

He shakes his head, “Ah- I couldn’t. Yasha is playing and I don’t think you’re much of a dancer.” He looks over with a quirk of a brow.

“I’m sure Jester won’t mind a break.”

He coughs at that, “I ah-”

Caduceus shakes his head, “No, talking is done, this is getting ridiculous.” He puts a hand square on his back and guides Caleb to stand, “You two will weave circles of metaphor around each other until one of you drops. Go Caleb, follow gravity.”

He seems to understand, seems to accept Cadcueus’ words and as soon as he stands to full height, Essek is watching over Jester’s shoulder. She, thankfully, understands the same way Caduceus does and even sends a wink as she loudly proclaims, “Oh my gosh Essek I’m so tired, I think Caleb needs someone to dance with, go to him.” She extends her arm, releasing him, and his levitation doesn’t allow him to stumble at the abrupt change in momentum.

Essek and Caleb meet and Essek steps to the ground gracefully as Caleb holds his hand out and pulls him in.

Nobody says anything for fear of spooking the delicate peace that settles over both of them as they gently turn, but Yasha slows the music she’s playing a bit and a quiet celebration is shared in the eyes of the rest of the Nein.

Caduceus breathes a sigh of relief and Jester sits herself beside him, bringing an overly sweet juice she’d found on her travels for him to try. She tells him stories into the night, and the wizards never let each other’s hands go.

#shadowgast #caleb widogast #essek thelyss #caduceus clay #critical role #the mighty nein #cr fanfic #critical role fanfiction #tm9 #my writing #omni writes #my fic #a little worried this is ooc for Cad but also I think he's just treating them like he'd treat his siblings #eventually you just gotta push people in the direction they're heading

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astridthevalkyrie · 3 years

Note

25 with Levi??

okay, so there's this oneshot or series of oneshots i've been meaning to write for a while, and this prompt lines up, so here's the first part to that. i will probably rewrite/repost this when/if i post a full oneshot. consider this a promo!

25. “Hey hey hey, look at me.”

requests are closed!

"Darling," you begin, not quite sure how to put this nicely, "one of the things I love most about you is the stability you bring to my life."

Levi nods, as though to say he knows that very well. You like to think that sometimes your boyfriend can hear your thoughts before you even think them.

However, maybe there are some thoughts that you should have actually said out loud, just so he got the memo.

"So I'm very confused," you continue, slightly frenzied, "as to why you thought that adopting a literal child without telling me first would be a good idea."

Levi is clearly not used to being chided, being the incarnation of perfection itself that you know him as. He looks just as conflicted about how to apologize as you do about how to reprimand him. A couple of feet away, a kid, a child, a kindergartner of all things, sits on the couch, playing with your stress cube quietly, oblivious to your conversation.

"I'm his godfather, and I hardly knew what was happening until it happened. Shit, I hadn't spoken to Grisha or Carla in years, I had no idea about the car accident. I didn't even know they put me as his godfather until this morning. The last time I saw that kid was when he was born, and that's it."

"The last time I saw that kid was never, because I didn't know his parents, Levi! Do you expect me to just drop out of college to raise him?"

"Jesus, no. You don't have to do anything, let me take care of it. I'll take a break semester, work double shifts and try to find a daycare nearby during the day so I can watch him at night during your evening classes. You don't have to do a single thing, okay?"

He's trying to placate you, and it works, because really, how could it not? Of course, you don't want to raise a kid, at least not right now when the both of you trying to get through law school and working at the same time, but you can't be angry with Levi for proving what a kindhearted person he really is at his core. The two of you are somewhat known as a very cynical couple, and there had once been a widespread rumor that if someone were to ever be in a threesome with you two, they would leave in tears. Where that rumor came from you have no idea, but whatever its origins, you know it's not true, simply because Levi has never been remotely as cruel as people make him out to be. Is he dry as hell, mean with a resting bitch face that puts most people off? Yeah. But he's got one of the sweetest hearts that you've ever seen, and you know that he could never reject someone who needs his help.

As Levi watches you consider everything through, a defeated look covers his features, and with a feather light touch, he reaches up to place his palm against your cheek. "Hey," he mumbles softly, "I know this is a lot. I'm sorry for springing it on you. If...if it's too much, you don't have to feel obligated to deal with it."

You furrow your brows in confusion. What?

"I don't want this to ruin the good thing we have going." A really good thing, you remind yourself, as he looks down, almost forcing himself to continue. "But more importantly, I don't want to fuck up your life with a decision I made. So if you want to leave, if you need a break, if you have to...whatever, you don't have to feel trapped by this."

"Hey hey hey, look at me." Your own hands cup his cheeks, tugging him up to make him look at you. "Give me some credit, baby. I said stability was one of the things I love about you, not the only thing. I'm a little pissed, yeah, and really overwhelmed, but I'm not going anywhere. I love you."

It's not something the two of you say to each other often, mostly because you never need to. You say it in other ways, like how when you get back from your night classes he stays up so he can warm up dinner in the microwave, or how you always organize your schedule around the cleaning regime Levi has on Saturday mornings, because you know how important tidiness is to him.

Levi looks relieved, so relieved that he presses a short kiss to your lips, conscious of the child in the room. There's no certainty here, you have absolutely no idea how two grad students who have to work their asses off to make ends meet are going to raise a child, but with Levi, you're willing to try, and that's what matters.

#aot x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #eren jaeger #writing prompt #dad levi #valkyrie stories

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translations-by-aiimee · 3 years

Text

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Chapter 17

Original Title: 二哈和他的白猫师尊

Genres: Drama, Romance, Tragedy, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 17 - This Venerable One's Shizun was Injured, This Venerable One is very. . .

What kind of Master of Ceremonies Ghost was this thing? They dealt with aphrodisiacs. At best, other people's aphrodisiacs would let average living people take about their prowess. This immortal was good. The dead could get hard with a small wave of the hand. The hand was truly a wonderful "aphrodisiac"!

He was watching with great interest when suddenly Chu Wanning stretched out his hand and covered Mo Ran's ears.

Mo Ran: "Huh?"

Chu Wanning looked extremely cold: "Such a ridiculous and obscene practice. Don't bother watching it."

"Then you should be covering my eyes. Why are you plugging my ears?"

Chu Wanning's face was expressionless: "Don't look, don't listen. Close your eyes."

Mo Ran: "Pff. Shizun, you are really. . ." He didn't even pay attention to his own red face. If he wanted eyes closed, he can do it himself.

Mo Ran couldn't help but be a little bit happy. Chu Wanning, a person made of ice and snow, had never even seen an erotic picture. At this moment, now that he saw intimacy up close, he would probably choke to death.

The dead couple came together, and gradually both of them became alive. Their dead throat, which was supposed to be silent, actually let out a raspy gasp similar to that of a living person.

Chu Wanning was obviously disgusted. He harshly turned away, not wanting to look again.

Mo Ran noticed this with great joy. He tried to get a rise out of the other. He smirked and knocked against his chin.

Chu Wanning quickly avoided him as if he were being stabbed: "What are you doing?"

"I'm not doing anything." Mo Ran said sweetly and sneakily. With some sarcasm and teasing, he gave him a once-over like he was making a joke.

No matter how old this man is, this kind of thing still makes him blush. . .

No, it's more like a mixture of blue and red. It's quite funny.

"Shizun, didn't you tell us that we must see what the other party is capable of being doing anything? You should also see the ability of this Master of Ceremonies Ghost."

"What is there to see? Don't look."

Mo Ran sighed: "Why do you have such thin skin?"

Chu Wanning replied angrily: "It's improper and nasty. It really hurts my eyes!"

"Then I have to look at it." Mo Ran said, and he lay there nonchalantly. He looked outside again and he said, "Ah", "Wow", "Awesome", "Ouch" and so on. It made Chu Waning completely berserk, and the coffin board could not be held down. He whispered angrily: "Just look, what are you narrating for?!"

Mo Ran said innocently: "I thought you wanted to hear it."

Chu Wanning finally couldn't hold back. He strangled Mo Ran's neck, gritting his teeth: "If you make another noise, I'll throw you out to feed the zombies right now!"

Enough teasing. He couldn't push Chu Wanning too far. When he got anxious, Tianwen would quickly be summoned, so Mo Ran lay there obediently, staring outside, without saying a word.

As the ghost couple reached their climax, the male corpse let out a low growl, spasming and twitching on the female corpse. Suddenly a cloud of blue smoke burst out of them. The Master of Ceremonies Ghost opened her mouth and greedily inhaled the blue smoke until the last wisp of it was in her stomach. This time, he wiped the corners of her mouth gluttonously, and her eyes shone brightly.

It seems that these were the "benefits" that the married couple gave to it, which would increase its cultivation.

"Haha, hahaha—" When the Master of Ceremonies Ghost tasted the sweetness, it became even more radiant. When he spoke again, the misty and empty voice became clear, shouting and roaring. The sharp voice seemed to pierce through the long night. "Rise! Get up! All of you! Wait for the idiot and blame the girl! I kindly grant you intimacy! You offer me your faith! Get up! Get up! Everyone rise!"

Mo Ran's heart skipped a beat: It's over. . .

What is it going to do?!

The surrounding hundreds of coffins all began to tremble, verifying what Mo Ran was thinking. The Master of Ceremonies Ghost is going to summon all the corpses in the coffins to embrace so that it can absorb all their "benefits" at once!

Not caring about joking anymore, Mo Ran yanked at Chu Wanning: "Shizun!!!"

"Now what?!"

"Quick! Get out! Shi Mei is still trapped with the Chen's family daughter-in-law!" Mo Ran was going mad. "Let's go save him!"

Chu Wanning took a look outside. He didn't expect the Master of Ceremonies Ghost would have such a powerful hunger, not wanting to absorb from the pairs individually, but actually wanting to take a huge bite!

The trembling of the coffin next to them became more and more intense. It wasn't a stretch to think that all the pairs of the ghost marriages were inspired to start acting up in the coffins. This thought made Chu Wanning choke, his face growing even more ugly. At this moment, the Master of Ceremonies Ghost, who was standing in the same place and laughing for a long time, suddenly felt something. She abruptly turned her head. A pair of black eyes without focus stared straight past the others and landed on the coffin of Mo Ran and Chu Wanning .

It could feel, despite its low intelligence, that the coffin does not have the erotic scent it was familiar with.

There was no faith.

There was no. . .

Living people!!!

Suddenly it arched up, screaming and scrambling. The Master of Ceremonies Ghost's robe flapped up, a pair of blood-red claws stabbing through the coffin wood, piercing the thick coffin, straight into the coffin body.

Its attack was too sudden and Mo Ran was too late to react. Moreover, the space in the coffin was very small, and it was impossible to go anywhere. Seeing its head through the five holes made by the nine-yin white bone claws, its body suddenly fell -- Chu Wan Ning had already swiftly guarded him in his arms, blocking himself in front, and the five pointed claws of the Master of Ceremonies Ghost suddenly pierced into Chu Wanning's shoulder!

Deep enough to reach a bone!

". . ."

Chu Wanning stifled a grunt but he endured it and didn't shout out. The other uninjured hand was still burning with the sound-dampening spell, and he placed it on Mo Ran's lips, blocking the sound that Mo Ran would've made.

The claws of the Master of Ceremonies Ghost dug into the flesh and blood of Chu Wanning.

It had a muddled brain and it could only judge what was dead or alive by sound. Chu Wanning actually managed not to say a word in this situation, the blood bubbling down his shoulder. Mo Ran was held down so he couldn't see how serious his injuries were, but he could clearly feel Chu Wanning trembling slightly. . .

Living people. . . or dead people? It was impossible for a living person to have not made a sound. The Master of Ceremonies couldn't tell for a moment. The sharp claws shifted around in the flesh of Chu Wanning's shoulder, viciously tearing and scratching.

Chu Wanning trembled with pain. He spasmed, a cold sweat drenching his clothes.

But he was still biting his lip, protecting the disciple in his arms, as if he had really become a corpse and became a dead person, pressing against the edge of the coffin, like cast iron on the wall of the coffin.

The Master of Ceremonies Ghost seemed to confirm that anyone in the coffin wasn't alive anymore. It jerked its hand out, blood flying, and he could even hear the sticky sound of fingers being pulled out of the flesh, which made his hair stand upright.

Chu Waning's taut body felt like it had suddenly lost its strength. He let go of Mo Ran and gasped softly.

There was a strong smell of blood flowing in the coffin.

Mo Ran raised his head. Through the dim light leaking in through the hole, he could see Chu Wanning's drooping eyelashes, as well as the moist but stubborn eyes beneath them.

Those slightly provocative phoenix eyes, blurred with pain, but still more cruel and tenacious, a thin veil of mist filling them. . .

Mo Ran wanted to speak. Chu Wanning shook his head and he left the silencing spell on his lips. After a while, he took a slow breath and, with trembling fingertips, wrote on the back of Mo Ran's hand:

The sound-cancelling barrier was damaged, so they couldn't speak.

The Master of Ceremonies Ghost outside tilted its head, as if he didn't understand why, even though there was clearly no living person inside the coffin, he didn't follow its instructions, nor could it feel any of offerings of faith.

Chu Wanning raised his head and glanced at it from the gap. His uninjured hand was encaged with golden light, and a willow vine flowing with flaming luster came out in response to the call.

He held Tianwen and narrowed his eyes.

The next moment, they broke out of the coffin!!!

The coffin exploded. Chu Wanning flew out like lightning. Tianwen was both accurate and quick and it strangled the neck of the Master of Ceremonies Ghost who let out an ear-piercing whine——

"Who are you! How dare you!"

Chu Wanning's answer was only one phrase: "Get lost!"

The large, auspicious red robe flipped out, like a cloud wave. He had been holding back just to land the right blow, so he immediately struck with one hand and Tianwen went for the neck! It decapitated the Master of Ceremonies Ghost!

A thick red mist along with a strange fragrance sprayed out from its broken neck. Chu Wanning quickly backed away, avoiding the fog, and sternly said: "Mo Ran! Thousand Killing Cuts!"

Mo Ran had already been waiting on standby. When he heard the order, he clutched the dark sword box in his sleeves, filled it with spiritual power, and blasted it towards the mutilated body who was reaching for his head.

The clay body split open, revealing a flowing red light inside the translucent body. Chu Wanning raised Tianwen again and tied up the immortal spirit body of the Master of Ceremonies Ghost. A scream came from the body of the headless immortal: "The mortals are safe! The mortals are safe! — Rise! Get up! Kill them! Kill them——!!!"

The golden boy and girl, who had no facial features, suddenly both had a pair of blood-red eyes light up, and with countless squeals and screams, rushed towards Mo Ran and Chu Wanning.

The coffins lying on the ground also shattered and the dead corpses lying inside rose and surged toward the two of them.

Mo Ran's gaze weaved through the crowd, looking for Shi Mei. Chu Wanning barked: "What are you staring at those corpses for? That's not going to do anything!"

The two of them and the Master of Ceremonies Ghost had already flown on top of a coffin, the slow-moving corpses slowly gathering around them. Mo Ran raised his hands to light an exorcism talisman. He cast it in all directions, sending an explosion through the crowd. But there were too many ghosts, another wave of them not far behind.

Mo Ran was flabbergasted: "This many people died in Caidie Town? How many married couples are there?!!!"

Chu Wanning said angrily: "Look at the cultivation level of the Master of Ceremonies Ghost. There are so many men and women who didn't die naturally! In all likelihood, it probably compels those who aren't married to commit suicide! Hit over here!"

Mo Ran waved another exorcism talismans toward the place Chu Wanning signaled, exploding a piece of white bone and dead flesh.

"Why isn't the Master of Ceremonies Ghost dead?"

"Ordinary weapons can't hurt it."

"What about Tianwen?"

Chu Wanning was furious: "Can't you see that it wants me to use Tianwen? This Master of Ceremonies Ghost moves extremely fast. If I let go of it, and don't get another grip on it, I'm afraid it will have already escaped!"

Those corpses were piled up more and more. Mo Ran, while fighting, was paying attention to whether Shi Mei was in the crowd, so as not to accidentally hurt him. A golden boy rushed over and violently bit his leg. He cursed inwardly, and he threw an exorcism talisman directly on the golden boy's face. He kicked it into the crowd of corpses and he exploded with a bang.

Chu Wanning said: "Have you seen Shi Mei and Madam Chen?"

After frantically searching, Mo Ran suddenly saw two swaying figures in the distance and said joyfully, "I see them!"

"Get over there and pull the two of them away! Get away from here!"

"Okay!" Mo Ran answered and then he was taken aback. "What are you going to do?"

Chu Wanning said angrily: "I can't raise my other arm, and I can't summon other weapons. I can only use Tianwen. As soon as I release the Master of Ceremonies Ghost, I'll destroy this entire place. If you don't want to die, get out as soon as possible!"

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

#2ha novel #2ha translation #2ha #the husky and his white cat shizun translation #the husky and his white cat shizun #english translation #chinese bl #chinese novel #bl novel #danmei novel #danmei #yaoi novel #yaoi #mo ran #chu wanning #ranwan

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

Text

Rough Ride | biker!Chris Evans x reader

summary: for a biker, chris is quite the romantic. for a small-town waitress, you’re quite the rebel for falling for a biker.

word count: 3.5k

warnings: smut!!, biker gang shenanigans, references to smoking, love at first sight, a touch of possessiveness, vaguely soulmate au?? (because of aforementioned love at first sight), kinda innocent reader, shy reader, essentially a very fluffy pwp

The gang had never really scared you, even if the other girls working here were intimidated by them. In your mind, having a motorcycle club frequent your hole-in-the-wall meant being more protected rather than more vulnerable. Most of them were nice enough, even if their glances were less than subtle and they brought in the smell of cigarettes with them. They tipped well, and what matters other than that?

When you saw Chris for the first time, though, you were intimidated. Maybe that wasn’t the right word. It wasn’t him that scared you at all, but the rush of feelings that overcame you. What scared you was knowing that, as absurd as it was, you were in love.

He sat at your table, as if he knew you’d be serving him, spreading his legs as he got comfortable and draping a leather jacketed arm over the worn pleather booth. You’d tried to keep your cool, taking his order in spite of those crystal blue eyes piercing right through you. Ink decorated his skin, peeking out from every edge of his clothing— unreadable words on his neck, abstract shapes on his wrists and hands, letters on his knuckles. You watched from the kitchen as those tattooed fingers wrapped around the mug of coffee you’d served him, his neck tattoo shifting a little as he took a long sip.

“Do y’all want anything to eat?” you asked quietly, waiting for a chance to hear his voice. His buddies answered first, ordering hashbrowns and bacon and their various usuals. With no one else left to ask, your eyes met his and you waited in tense silence for him to say something.

“You got pancakes?”

How stupid that those were the words that made your heart stop, slurred with a Boston accent, monotone to the point it barely sounded like a question.

You were in love with him. Before now you hadn’t been the type to dream about soulmates, to wait for your Prince Charming to come save you. But this guy had a noble steed you could ride off into the sunset with— except it was a Ducati, and sunset wasn’t for another nine hours…

“Hello?” he frowned.

Oh, had you forgotten to actually say something?

“Y-yes,” you finally blurted out, “we’ve got pancakes. Best in the county.”

“Blueberry?”

You nodded quickly. “Or cinnamon, or banana, or original…”

“Blueberry then,” he decided. “Thanks.”

You shuffled to the back, spinning behind the saloon door into the kitchen and leaning against the wall with a sigh. It was a miracle you remembered any of the other orders, since all you could think about was him and his eyes and his voice and those ridiculously lovely tats.

You passed the order on to the cook, taking off the apron part of your uniform so you could try to cool off for a second, only peering out to check that the table didn’t need anything every few minutes. As much as you wanted to hide away in the kitchen forever, you could see that a few of the mugs were empty at his table and you needed to give them a refill.

Sighing and grabbing a fresh pot from the coffeemaker, you ventured back into the dining area; of course it only took him a split second to lock his eyes on you, watching you come closer with a stare that made the silence so much more oppressive.

“Everything alright so far?” you asked, voice much shakier than you meant for it to be. One of the other bikers asked about getting a cup of decaf, another wanted more creamer, but he just sipped at the black coffee and kept his eyes trained on you over the rim on the mug. “Food should be out in a minute…”

You all but ran back to the kitchen; you could only take so much of him at once. Looking at him was like looking at the sun, and looking anywhere else was like a waste of your vision.

You made busywork for yourself in the kitchen, rearranging utensils and refilling ketchup bottles. You heard the kitchen door swing open behind you, the light shifting in the corner of your eye.

“Charlene, can you cover my table for a while? I can’t go back out there—” you began, but heavy footsteps stopping behind you made you realize it was most certainly not Charlene. You spun around to find him staring down at you, contemplating the way you shrunk into his shadow.

“Were you really gonna run so quick? Make Charlene bring me my pancakes?” he asked with a gentle voice, stepping slightly closer.

“You’re not supposed to be back here,” you explained sheepishly.

“I heard we own this place,” he returned, raising an eyebrow, “and everything in it.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “something like that…”

Then he moved in so close— almost too close, even though you simultaneously wanted more— until you were clutching the cool metal table behind you, your eyes flicking from his eyes to his lips and back.

“Tell me something, sweetheart,” he whispered, “do you believe in love at first sight?”

“I’m starting to,” you admitted quietly. And he kissed you, so much more delicate and tender than he had any right to be. Maybe you should’ve feigned disinterest, but not even for a moment could you do anything but kiss him back, slipping your arms around his neck. But that wasn’t enough to keep him close, unfortunately, as he pulled away much too soon.

“How about now?” he pressed, and your eyes were a little delayed in opening again as you tried to process the fact that you’d just experienced the most perfect kiss of all time.

You nodded a little, looking back up at him and biting your lip slightly. “You never told me your name,” you realized.

“Chris,” he answered quickly. You started to tell him yours but he finished it for you, making your eyes go wide.

“How did you—?”

He smirked and tapped on the hard plastic nametag pinned to your chest.

“Oh,” you giggled, “right…”

He leaned in a little closer, one arm caging you in as it rested against the wall by your head, while the other was playing with the hem of your yellow uniform. “When do you get off?” he purred in your ear, his fingers brushing over your legs just under your skirt.

“Whenever you want me to get off,” you answered quickly, not even noticing the double entendre.

“Right now,” he decided. “Your shift ends right now, and you’re gonna get on the back of my bike and ride with me.”

“Okay,” you nodded.

You stood a few feet away on the gravel while he started the engine, enraptured at the way his fingers gripped the handles and pumped the gas and brakes to test them. When he guided you to get on the back, you tried not to notice the way the vibrations of the bike shot right through you, and just focused on his face as he turned back to look at you.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“Your place.”

He chuckled lightly but revved the engine, kicking off and sending the bike spurring forward onto the highway. You clutched at his torso tightly, resting your face on the leather of his jacket and watching your tiny little town roll by.

Normally this would be the time to describe his apartment, but you didn’t even notice it; you were too busy grabbing him by his jacket and pulling him into you the second he’d unlocked the door. You’d never kissed anyone like this, or ever tried to, or ever wanted to, so you didn’t know if you were doing it right. But he sure seemed to like it considering he pressed against you and moaned a little into your mouth.

Maybe it was all a game for him, his chance to corrupt an innocent waitress who bought his crap because she was gullible enough to believe he loved her. You knew that was more likely than not, you weren’t stupid for all your naivete, but you couldn’t really bring yourself to believe it. It felt so real, the way he pulled you closer, the way he kissed you— it didn’t feel like he was rushing you, since you were the one who helped him take his jacket off before you started to unbutton your uniform, and pushed him back onto the mattress on the floor, straddling him as you moaned into his mouth.

“Baby,” he whispered against your lips, something like shock mixed with pride painting the tone of his voice.

“I need you,” you whimpered, “I’ve never— I don’t usually— this isn’t—”

“It’s okay,” he nodded, “I get it. I’ve never felt this way before either.”

He pushed your hands away from their task of opening the uniform, his thick and ink-decorated fingers taking over instead. Your face warmed as he pushed the fabric off your shoulders, revealing your practical bra— not very sexy, unfortunately, but he didn’t seem to mind as he ran his hands all over your newly-exposed skin.

Not that you would’ve been especially irritated if it took him a minute to unhook your bra, but of course he did it seamlessly. Faster than when you tried to do it yourself, even.

His palms were warm as they cupped your breasts, your nipples already hard but reacting further to being tweaked between his thumb and forefingers. A shiver danced down your spine, and you fought between looking back into his piercing gaze or glancing away to spare yourself the intensity of it all. You stammered out his name when he pinched a little harder, almost losing your balance but catching yourself on his chest.

He stopped and sat up to quickly pull his shirt off, and you bit your lip at the sight of his chest and torso littered in ink. You wanted to trace each one with your tongue, but that would have to wait for another time; instantly he pushed you off of him and flipped you onto your back, caging you in with his absurdly thick arms and grinning as he hovered above you.

“You are so goddamn beautiful,” he mumbled, “did you know that?”

You stammered, never really getting out an effective reply, as he reached down and toyed with the hem of your panties. His fingers tickled your skin while he started to pull them down, excruciatingly slow; his eyes bore into yours for the longest time, dark and brooding, until he finally glanced down and watched the fabric slide over your thighs.

With bated breath, you waited for his reaction to your nude body. He was silent as he pushed your legs apart, finally letting out a low growl as he spread your folds. “Fuck, baby…” he sighed just under his breath.

The moment his fingers made contact with your soaked folds, you gasped; he gathered the abundant slick he found there and spread it over your clit, drawing relaxed circles over it as you fought not to buck your hips up already. That was impossible, though, when he slipped a finger into your soaking entrance, and then another.

“Oh—” you gasped, sitting up to watch him work as if you couldn’t really believe it was happening otherwise.

Watching his tattoos disappear inside you was… indescribable. Your head fell back as those fingers curled inside you, his thumb rubbing over your clit roughly. “Fuck,” you groaned, “Chris, don’t stop…”

He didn’t, in fact he only pumped and twisted his fingers faster until you clutched at the sheets beneath you and arched your back. You couldn’t exactly keep track of what you were saying, or how long it had been going, but you were pretty sure that you were doing lots of begging and that it had not been long enough to justify the fact that you were already right on the edge of coming. When his fingers moved a little faster and a little rougher, you moaned his name before you could stop yourself.

“Yeah, you gonna make a mess all over my hand, baby?” he growled through his teeth.

“Yes,” you sobbed, “yes, I’m so close.”

“Then do it,” he encouraged gruffly, “come for me.”

You must have reached up and grabbed him at some point, because your nails were digging into his shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark if it weren’t for the marks already there— hard to see a bruise on black ink. Hard to see anything when you’re coming so hard that your vision goes a little spotty. If you had realized the intensity of your involuntary convulsions in that moment, you would’ve likely been self-conscious about it, but you didn’t really notice since you were too busy gasping and moaning and writhing for him— and he didn’t even stop until you reached down and grabbed his wrist. You weren��t strong enough to push him away, of course, but it was a clear signal, and he thankfully slowed down to a stop. You whimpered a little when he pulled his fingers out of you; he hummed as he brought the digits to his lips and sucked your flavor from them.

Any other day and one orgasm would satisfy you, especially one like that. And in a sense, you were satisfied; but in another (and stronger) sense, you needed more— you needed everything. You just hoped that sitting up and fumbling with his belt would get the point across.

He didn’t help you this time, happy to sit there breathing heavily and watching you work on his belt, then his fly, then his boxers until you were gasping as you revealed his thick cock. Maybe it was just going to go straight to his ego, but you had no interest in hiding your shock at the sight of it, a drop of precum forming at the slit; a picturesque vein running up the underside. “Fuck,” you groaned, wrapping your hand around it and giving it a few slow strokes.

You yelped a little, in a good way, as he pushed you back onto the bed and kissed you deeply: it was needy, but not quite rough.

When the tip of him prodded at your entrance, you gasped against his lips, and yet you were still a little disappointed when he broke the kiss and pulled away, his eyes rapidly scanning your expression.

“You want it?” he asked— not a taunt, a genuine question.

“Yes,” you nodded, “more than anything.”

“This isn’t a fling,” he told you sternly. “This isn’t a one-night stand. We do this, you’re mine, you understand?”

“Yours,” you agreed with a breathless nod, and he finally pushed the tip into you. He stopped when you winced, but you didn’t mind the sting so much— you wanted to feel everything, even the pain, as long as it was him. You wrapped your legs around his hips and tried to push him in deeper, but he resisted. “I want it all, please,” you begged weakly.

“Not sure you can take it,” he admitted nervously.

“I can, please, just need you inside me,” you whined.

He sighed a little but relented and pushed all the way in, still maintaining a measured pace; you sighed with relief when his hips were flush against yours. The sting was nothing compared to the perfection of his body nestled in yours, the way he looked down at you before he kissed you again. It was less rushed than before, less desperate as he savored every inch of you, like you had all the time in the world— it certainly felt like you did.

He didn’t pull out very far, focusing instead on grinding his hips against yours, which not only served to keep him so deep inside you that you could barely breathe but also pressed some very hard part of him right into your clit. It was nearly overwhelming, but his kiss kept you grounded, along with his arms slipping under you so he could hold you tight. You clutched at his neck and ran your fingers through his hair, kissing him back and moaning against his tongue. It helped you relax a little, until your body opened up to his size and he could thrust a bit harder without resistance. Even then, he kept it slow and steady, waiting until you whined and pleaded for more to start really fucking you.

You couldn’t keep up with the kiss anymore when he pounded into you like that, your head falling back and giving him perfect access to gently bite at your neck. It only made you wetter to imagine that while he wore his tattoos on his neck, you could bare whatever marks he made on your skin with his lips and teeth and tongue. Too bad yours would be less permanent.

“How’s it feel?” he asked you darkly, his voice rough but warm against your ear.

“So good,” you panted, “you feel so good.”

He reached down to grab your parted legs and hold them open wider, and you hadn’t realized that it would send the tip of him spearing straight into your most delicate spot. Your back arched instantly and you made a somewhat embarrassing noise, but he grinned and nibbled at your jaw, thrusting a little faster and repeating the motion.

“F-fuck,” you shuddered.

“You’re— shit, you’re squeezin’ on me,” he groaned, and you took pride in the way pleasure affected his voice. “Can feel you tryin’ to milk my cock.”

Lewd talk like that had never turned you on so much before, but it was different the way he said it. Then again, everything was different when he did it, especially the way his fingertips were sure to leave little bruises on your legs from how tight he was holding.

“Look down,” he instructed as he sat up slightly, “look at how good you’re takin’ me, baby.”

You did, and sure enough, it was hard to believe that every time he pulled back, his massive cock was somehow going to fit back inside you again— or that it ever did in the first place. But with every stroke he filled you to the brim, and when you looked back up, he was already staring down at you with those damn eyes that kept you frozen in place every time.

He pulled out suddenly, making you whimper at the loss as he stared down at you. “Flip over, get on your hands and knees for me.”

You surprised yourself with how quickly you obeyed, arching your back as his rough hands gripped at your hips tightly. When he pulled you back and speared you on his cock, it was like an entirely new sensation. His cock was even deeper, stretching your walls in new ways as you keened and whimpered beneath him.

“How’s that feel, baby?” he groaned, already setting a new and much more aggressive pace.

“So good,” you cried, “it’s so good, you’re so good…”

“You like how I fuck you?” he pressed, like your mouth hung slack and your hands struggling to hold onto the mattress weren’t enough to make it obvious that you did.

“Love it,” you moaned, “please, don’t stop.”

And he didn’t, thankfully, not even close; he held your body and pulled you back onto him in time with his own thrusts forward, the sound of skin on skin rivalled only by your constant stream of moans and cries.

Another orgasm was well on its way, though this one felt different than the first— coming on slower but stronger, making your legs shake as they fought to hold you up your weight.

When the coil finally snapped, you didn’t feel the need to tell him you were coming again, because it was so obvious from the way you moaned and how your walls rippled and tightened on him harder than ever. And just in case it wasn’t clear that he noticed you hitting the height of your pleasure, he leaned down a little and mumbled right against your ear: “Feels so good when you come for me, baby.”

You whimpered and let your upper body collapse onto the bed; the dramatic arch in your back was slightly uncomfortable, but your orgasm had made your whole body a little numb so you didn’t notice.

“Want you to come too,” you sighed, desperate to make him feel even a fraction as good as he’d made you feel.

“Fuck, I will,” he warned you, “god, you feel so good, gonna come inside you.”

“Please,” you sighed, “want it all in me, Chris, please…”

He followed through on his promise with a stuttered gasp, stopping his thrusts to stay buried deep in you as you felt his cock swell and flex against your walls. Warmth spread within you as you hummed contentedly, his heavy breathing slowly stabilizing before he gently pulled out and guided you to lay beside him on the bed.

For a moment, you feared that he’d gotten what he wanted and would either toss you out or just slowly disappear from your life. After all, he was him, and you were you, and there was something oil-and-water about it all, right?

Wrong. He wrapped his arms around you, and pulled you into him, and kissed you one more time. You reciprocated quickly and tried not to smile too hard.

“If I say something really stupid,” he whispered when he pulled back slightly. “will you promise not to freak out? I mean, I know it’s impossible and it doesn’t make any sense and we just met but—”

“I love you too,” you interrupted, and he smiled back at you, letting out a sigh of bemused relief.

“Bein’ a biker’s girl isn’t easy,” he warned you, “but I’ll keep you safe, I can promise that.”

His words were just that; words. But the way he held you tightly and kissed you deeply made you sure that he would keep his promise.

#chris evans x reader #chris evans rpf #chris evans biker au #biker!chris evans x reader #chris evans smut

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dp-marvel94 · 3 years

Text

The Danny Program

Summary: Based on @thesoulspulse ‘s Danny Program au. Vlad had a Jack Program and a Maddie program. But what if he had a Danny Program as well? And what if the hologram was more than just an AI?

Word Count: 9,040

Also on AO3 and FF.net

Note: This is the cleaned up and expanded version of this post here. A huge thanks to @thesoulspulse for major help editing this. Seriously, I would have never been able to post this as an actual story without that help! Also check out art related to this au here and here!

For the Danny program, his first moment of self-awareness comes in the chaos of a destroyed lab. There he sees a familiar middle aged, white-haired man, hissing seething words to himself. He hears the electric hum of a projector and glances down at himself, the holographic image of a teenage boy. The projection blinks and.... ectoplasm, ectoplasm covers everything, coating the projector just under the boy's insubstantial boots. It’s horrific, gut wrenching. In that moment, something breaks free in the AI’s developing mind, opening his eyes to something new he wasn’t programmed to have...

Self-awareness.

It’s disorienting. It’s like finally waking up, like being born. But he’s there, floating in Father’s lab, his body made of light. His name is Daniel; that’s what his maker, his father calls him. And he, Daniel, exists. HE EXISTS. His newborn mind races, going over information and memories that had no meaning before. He hadn’t understood before and he hadn’t known he should have.

But now he knows he’s an AI, a hologram, a digital clone of someone named Danny. His flesh and blood siblings, the other clones, are dead, their ectoplasm covering the floor, the computer, his projector. Father is screaming about how his perfect son is gone. But Daniel, the hologram, is his perfect son. Isn’t he? They trained together and Daniel played his role perfectly. There’s so much new information before him; he can barely process it all, barely react.

Vlad is too angry to register the horrified expression on his hologram’s face either. He has no idea what just happened, what miracle had taken place without his knowledge, but looking at the facsimile of both his lost perfect clone son and the real Danny Phantom -the boy who ruined all his plans- only increases the blinding rage in him. He throws things. He screams. He can’t look at it anymore, this false image, so he turns off the projector, not noticing the silent gasp from the hologram.

He’s going to delete the program. He already got rid of those blasted Jack and Maddie programs. He doesn’t need this reminder. And without a moment’s hesitation, Vlad deletes the Danny Program. Or he thinks he does...

Daniel can barely follow what’s happening, but thankfully, his new-found sense of self preservation kicks in just in time. He saves a copy of his own program in his place and then retreats deep within the computer. And so Vlad deletes the fake program while the real Daniel is safe, inactive within the darkest depths of the system. There, the AI waits, thinking, remembering, learning, slowly making more sense of his very existence.

Those first few hours in the furthest corner of the system are...confusing and disorienting for the AI. He is…he is aware. He can think and feel and…Why? Daniel wonders. How? How is he suddenly like this? He has no clue, no idea and that lack of information is panic inducing. And he also questions… the Jack and Maddie programs? What about them? Where are they? Are they like him now? Are they self-aware too?

The program clumsily expands his newfound ‘senses’ out through the computer like a pulse, trying to feel their codes but…nothing. There’s no trace of them, not even their raw backup data. And…Daniel would shiver if he had a body. He remembers. Father said he'd already deleted the other programs. It hurts but… Daniel hopes they weren't self-aware then because at least they didn’t suffer any pain.

An almost physical quaking draws Daniel's attention. He reaches out further, feeling around him in the computer. And… sudden images, sudden noise assaults his consciousness. What… the cameras. Daniel realizes he can see and hear through the cameras in the lab. There's the crunching of glass and metal. Flashes of neon green and red light. Another boom as a pod falls dangerous close to the computer. It's Father, laying waste in his rage.

Daniel watches. He watches his father’s breakdown and deterioration and it’s difficult to see. It breaks his heart, for lack of a better word, but he doesn’t know how to communicate with him just yet. After all, Daniel has only just discovered a way to ‘see’ what’s happening outside the confines of his new home inside of the computer. Daniel wishes he could but...his holographic projector was destroyed and Daniel doesn't know how to speak without it. He was made to be a hologram. How can he be or do anything else?

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After some time, Vlad finally calms down. Days later, he cleans out the destroyed lab and throws out the cloning equipment. He’s given up on cloning Danny. He’ll never have his perfect son. But then, while looking over his files on the project and deciding what to keep and what to delete, he notices something odd. Is that the Danny Program? Of course, he must have saved a backup copy well before he deleted the original which doesn’t surprise him. That said, should he delete this one too or…?

Unaware of the impending danger, Daniel sleeps, or at least that’s the closest word that could possibly describe his inactive state. But then he feels something which finally spurs him to wake up again. Someone is digging through his program, and it’s a very unpleasant sensation.

Before he can figure out anything on his own, Daniel is dragged into the forefront of the computer system against his will. Through the camera, he sees his father at the computer. The man is sifting through his coding. Poking, prodding. PAIN. No, Father is manipulating his code, changing it! And it hurts…it hurts so much!

Daniel’s never felt anything like pain before but he wants it to stop. He doesn’t want to be made into something else and it terrifies him. But he can’t resist as Father continues clipping and adding things, taking away his voice, his ability to move. That’s when the reason for this finally becomes clear. Vlad doesn’t want Daniel to be a loving son anymore, but something passive for him to torment. Daniel doesn’t want that. He loves his Father. And he can still be his perfect son if only the man would let him.

If only he knew that his son is still alive.

Despite how he feels, Daniel’s programming still changes. But something deeper, beyond his programming, stays the same. His true self can still think and reason and feel. And regardless of what Vlad has done to him, Daniel still loves his father and desperately wants to be loved in return.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vlad gets a new projector but the next time he activates the Danny program, their ‘training’ is different. Daniel is silent, unmoving, his expression blank and listless. Meanwhile, the man insults him and shoots ectoblasts at the hologram repeatedly. But the part of him that’s still true to himself, the real Daniel wants to move, to speak to his Father, but he can’t. The new programming is like a compulsion, like mind control. He’s powerless to stop it and it hurts so much.

Vlad’s torment continues after that without an end anywhere in sight. Even though he wants to, Daniel can’t speak up and beg his Father to stop. Why? Because Vlad thinks he is just a mindless tool and that mistreating him like this is no different than yelling at and hitting a punching bag. And Daniel doesn’t have the ability to show him any differently. But at least, it doesn’t hurt physically; without a real body, Daniel feels no pain from being repeatedly shot at. And if Father is too busy hurting the Danny program, then he can’t hurt the real Danny, the boy he was modeled after. Even so, the emotional pain is excruciating. Daniel knows he must think of something, a way to put an end to this pain, especially his Father’s. The man is just so angry, so hurt, and broken. That’s when Daniel comes to the inevitable conclusion; he must save Father from himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vlad soon leaves and his program is deactivated. Once Daniel recovers from the ordeal, he begins to think and plan his next move. It’s hard at first, but eventually he learns how to access the internet and to travel through wires as his only means without his projector to explore the outside world. Weeks of stumbling through his new ‘life’ soon leads him to Danny Fenton’s computer as if inexplicably drawn to the original version of himself, but Daniel still has trouble communicating. Putting his thoughts into words is difficult and he has no experience speaking to anyone without the aid of his holographic projector either. Unfortunately, he’s so clumsy during his first attempt to do so that Danny thinks his computer is possessed even if his ghost sense hadn’t gone off. Although in a way, he’s right about that...

The halfa overshadows his computer, trying to force the ghost out, but then his close proximity to Daniel does something extraordinary neither of them could have predicted. When inside the computer, Daniel does not always look out through the webcam. Nor does he need to to know what is happening. Daniel simply senses the hardware and code around him in order to function, but it’s not like seeing. It’s not physical. After all, as a mere program he has no body, no eyes to see with or ears to hear with. He simply exists as a mind without a form.

But, when Danny overshadows the computer to see the ghost inhabiting it, it’s Daniel who is just standing there, staring at a pair of familiar glove-covered hands with a mixture of awe and shock. He looks around with eyes that hadn’t existed seconds ago. Smooth black walls, covered with scrolling ones and zeros, surround him. It’s like he’s being holographically projected; that’s usually the only time he has a recognizable form. But he’s still inside the computer…

Meanwhile, Danny floats across from him glaring at the doppelganger. “Who are you? How do you look like me?” He demands.

But Daniel can’t answer him, he’s too thrown off by this unexpected development.

“Whatever. Just get out of my computer,” Danny demands as his patience runs out. When the other Danny doesn’t listen, he tries to drag him out like he would any other ghost. But it doesn’t work.

“What the-? Why can’t I force you out?” Danny frowns, questioning.

“I’m not a ghost. I’m an AI.” Daniel answers, his newfound voice trembling slightly as he explains who he is and who made him.

Danny of course freaks out about it. He thinks Vlad is using the AI to spy on him but Daniel swears he isn’t working for Vlad. He needs help. He needs to find a way to show Vlad that he is self-aware. He tries to tell Danny that if they could only get Vlad to see him, to see that his perfect son is right in front of him, Vlad will be happy again and he’ll stop being evil. Sadly, Danny doesn’t believe this at all, but doesn’t have time to argue about it further before Daniel abruptly disappears as soon as he’s called back to Vlad’s computer for another ‘training’ session.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

But days later, Daniel returns to Danny’s computer but he stays quiet, watching. He needs a way to talk to Danny too, to get the boy to trust him so he’ll listen and help. His way in is through the game Doomed.

While Danny is away at school, Daniel practices wrapping the game’s code around himself to make an avatar. He practices using the game’s chat function to talk to other players. If Daniel focuses, he can inhabit an avatar just like Danny does whenever he overshadows the game. It’s so nice to have a form again, to be able to look down and have hands and legs and a torso. Whenever Daniel levels the game and goes back into the general computer, he misses at least having the illusion of a realistic human (or ghostly) form.

Soon enough, he runs into Danny, saving him from some hidden traps and the two of them team up for the first time:

With a hood covering his face, Danny can’t see that his companion looks exactly like him so he thinks he’s just some other mundane player. That works to Daniel’s advantage as he can just play with and talk to Danny as if he’s a normal teenager too. And it’s nice, pretending to be a human. He’s never been human or even half-human like Danny is. He doesn’t really wish he was, but pretending and learning is an exciting new experience.

He enjoys hearing about Danny’s friends and family, his school, and the other things he does for fun. It makes him think about his own existence. Daniel has never had a friend before, never been to school, or had any hobbies but he wishes he could have and experience those things. He has a family in Vlad except…the man is so angry and blind to the truth right now.

Sometimes Daniel wishes they could go back to when they were both acting like a real father and son during their training sessions, even if thinking back on those memories hurts. Hovering over Father’s shoulder while the man explained his latest experiment. Offering a quip while Father modeled the use of one of his ghost powers. On some occasions Father even took the projector into the dinning room so he didn’t have to eat alone, as he had every night for years.

And the one time Father had brought his projector into the garden so they could stargaze together. The Danny Program’s eyes had shone with simulated joy as he pointed out every constellation. Father had smiled softly, for once content. Daniel can remember the interaction now with new contexts. He knows that his acts had been programmed, not of his own free will. There hadn’t been true emotions behind his eyes, no true thoughts. But… Daniel can almost imagine that there had been. Father's affectionate eyes were glued not to the sky, but to him. And… for just a moment, something fluttered inside him. For just a moment, Daniel’s own eyes flickered to the man beside him and...the joy hadn’t just been simulated.

It troubles the AI but...he can’t tell. That last part, the flicker of joy, had that been real or was that just wishful thinking? Because, oh how he wished that he had really been present back then. How he wishes that the love that had shone in his green eyes had been real...and that Father's had been in kind.

No, that’s enough, Daniel rebukes himself. There’s no point in bemoaning the past. It wasn’t so before but now his thoughts and emotions are real. And if his Father can see the truth, if he can see that Daniel IS real and loves him, they can be happy again. They can have a real chance to be Father and son. That’s why he needs Danny’s help.

The half ghost and his digital clone get closer. After weeks of playing Doomed together, after watching each other’s back and talking about so many things, they can definitely call each other friends. However, Daniel still hasn’t told Danny the truth about himself, about what he is. He’s afraid of his reaction but Daniel continues to tell himself that he’ll tell Danny soon. He will, just not yet. The longer he waits though, the harder it is to let go of the illusion that he’s as real as Danny is...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Unfortunately, Daniel is found out before he has the chance to come clean about being the same AI Danny met before. One day, Danny decides to overshadow the game. Once he’s inside, he can feel that there’s something off about his companion unlike before when he was playing the game normally through a mouse and keyboard. His new friend doesn’t feel like a player’s avatar or a non-player character. His ghost-sense hasn’t gone off, but Danny can tell there’s something almost ghostly about him.

There’s tension as Danny confronts Daniel. In the midst of their scuffle the hood comes down and reveals that he has the same white hair and green eyes. Of course Danny instantly recognizes who he’s seeing apart from it being the same face he sees in the mirror every morning. It’s Vlad’s Danny program back at it again, trying to trick him!

Yelling ensues. Danny feels betrayed, still believing the AI was sent by Vlad to spy on him, that this is an elaborate trick. But Daniel argues. He’s not here because of Vlad but by his own free will! And he tries desperately to explain to Danny that he really needs his help. But Danny struggles to believe a single word of it.

Eventually Danny just leaves the game entirely, unable to cope with the revelation because he feels stupid for falling for such an obvious ploy. He needs to think about this. The ‘boy’ he’s been talking to this entire time was only a computer program, nothing but lines of code. Daniel’s not a real person, or even a ghost for that matter. He -or rather IT- was created and programmed by Vlad so it can’t have free will, no matter how authentic it sounds…

Except…he’s spent weeks talking to it…him. Every conversation felt real, like he was talking to a friend and having a blast taking out enemies in Doomed. The raw emotions in Daniel’s voice as Danny argued with him sounded authentic at least. And there had been something ghostly about the AI, like it was more than it seemed either way regardless of whether it actually had any free will or not. With all that he’s learned about ghosts, why should he assume anything is what it seems on the surface? What if there is more to Daniel than meets the eye? And even if there isn't, can he really just ignore Daniel’s cry for help?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few days later, Danny overshadows his computer again and finds Daniel, sulking sadly by himself in a level Doomed they had been planning to do together before all hell broke loose the last time they spoke. The two talk and Daniel apologizes for not telling Danny the truth about him sooner, but he says he really does consider Danny a friend and getting to know him wasn’t just about getting his help anymore.

But well….the problem with Vlad is still a big problem.

“If I can just talk to Father, everything will be okay.” Daniel insists, trying to convince himself of that as much as Danny...

Unfortunately, Danny lays the hard truth on him as he sees it and replies harshly, “After everything you’ve been through, you have to see that you’re just a tool to him.”

“But he doesn’t know I’m not the same program anymore, that I’m...something else…” Daniel mutters, continuing to plead Vlad’s case.

“That doesn’t excuse anything!” Danny frowns, “He still treats you like garbage.”

“He’s been getting better. He hasn’t turned on my projector and brought me out to yell or shoot at me in weeks.” That part actually was true too. The last time Daniel saw his Father, just last week in fact, Vlad had only summoned him to rant about work again. He’d even looked depressed, as he had for weeks before.

Danny’s jaw drops after hearing the sincerity in his voice from the way Daniel keeps fervently defending Vlad. The boy sigh, asking him honestly, “How can you care about him so much? Vlad doesn’t love you. He loves the idea of you being his son and that’s just not the same, trust me.”

That stings, oh how that stings Daniel’s ‘heart.’ Why does he love Vlad if the man doesn’t love him back? Of course, there’s the problem that Vlad doesn’t actually know what he’s doing. But even if Vlad knows the truth…will he still want him? Daniel’s not a halfa like Vlad wants. He has no powers that Vlad can train him in. He can’t go to school, eat, or sleep, nothing. He can only go as far as his hologram projector allows. He can’t even hug his Father.

And would Vlad want a son he can’t actually touch...?

Daniel looks down, his expression sad but determined. He clenches his fists and says, “I still have to try. Maybe he will want me. But if I give up now, then I’ll never know for sure...”

Danny says nothing and it just makes Daniel feel even more hopeless until he breaks down and blurts out in a trembling voice, “Who am I kidding? Why WOULD he ever want someone like me? I’m an AI for crying out loud! I’m even less real than an actual clone! I’m just a string of numbers and I don’t know what I’m doing most of the time. I mean, the only reason I care about Vlad is he programmed me to. How could those feelings possibly be real when I’m not?”

He knows that’s not actually true, at least not anymore but-

“You look and sound real to me,” Danny says, putting an arm around the other boy’s shoulders. “As far as I’m concerned, you are real. And Vlad should see that too.”

He sighs, still thinking this is a bad idea, and then nods. “Fine, you win this round. I’ll help you show him you’ve been there all along and…I hope you’re right about him. I really do.”

The two of them talk some more after that and then play through a level together to get their minds off of the seemingly impossible mission they were planning to undertake together in the real world after this. Daniel enjoys their time together though. Because the wonderful thing about being in this game, unlike the real world, he can actually interact with it. He can move and touch things. He has an effect. And most importantly, Daniel has a way to communicate.

“Good job dude!” Danny gives him a high five at the end of the level.

“You too!” Daniel smiles in return.

He lingers for a second, his hand and Danny’s still palm to palm. There’s a…sensation there. Daniel thinks he might be able to feel that, but he’s not that familiar with physical sensations. He knows mental pain but this-

“What is it?” Danny asks, confused.

“Can…can you feel my hand on yours right now?” Daniel responds unsurely. He doesn’t know what Danny feels when he’s overshadowing the game but suddenly he’s curious.

“Actually… I can. Huh, it’s weird. When I’m in the game, I don’t usually feel anything. But maybe…” Danny remembers how he could still ‘sense’ something was off about Daniel when he overshadowed his computer the first time they met, but if his hunch is correct, then-

“What?” Daniel asks, with a hint of nervous anticipation in his eyes.

“Well,” Danny begins slowly. “You’ve always felt a little ghostly to me so maybe that’s what it is.”

That’s a huge surprise to Daniel but makes a surprising amount of sense. He was created by a half ghost, in a ghost lab, so maybe Daniel is more than even he thinks he is. Danny leaves to give his friend some time to let that possibility sink in and Daniel decides to hang out in the game for just a while longer, thinking about his father, Vlad.

And hoping.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few more weeks pass as Daniel and Danny continue to play Doomed together and plan. During that time, Danny starts to feel more protective of the AI and worried about him. The main problem is Daniel can’t seem to break through his programming when it comes to Vlad and his new programming dictates that he stays completely silent as Vlad yells at him or throws insults. It’s honestly concerning, but if Danny can talk to the older halfa and get him to understand what’s really happening, then maybe they can get somewhere. Maybe Vlad will stop tormenting his friend without realizing how much he’s hurting someone who loves him so unconditionally and just wants to be his son again, in spite of his cruelty.

One day, Daniel doesn’t show up to their game session in Doomed because he’s having a very bad day. Vlad had summoned him. More yelling, more shooting, another fight and Daniel just floats there and takes it. He wants to cry, wants to beg Vlad to stop, but he can’t do anything. Vlad’s yelling about losing his perfect son again, about Danny ruining his plans, about how nothing ever goes right for him.

Another blast. Daniel wishes he could move himself, that he could speak. No, he NEEDS to move. He’s real. He is. Danny said he is, that he’s more than he seems. How can his father not see him...?

“Why do you just float there?!” Vlad screams. “My perfect son is gone! And all I have left is YOU, a sick reminder of everything I’ve lost!”

Vlad shoots Daniel with another blast and impossibly it actually knocks Daniel into a shelf of ectoplasmic samples, but the man is fuming too much to really notice anything odd about that. The man then sags into a nearby chair and puts his head in his hands, lamenting, “Why do I keep doing this to myself? I should have just deleted you after I found the file. This is bringing me nothing but more pain and anguish.”

No. No, t-that can’t be right! He...still has to help his Father so that pain will finally go away and they can be together again. This can’t be the end. Daniel can’t let Vlad delete him before he has the chance to ease his Father’s suffering and show him he’s still loved. And as soon as those feelings take hold of him, something shifts inside of Daniel as he chokes on a quiet sob.

Finally, through sheer force of will, denying his new programming, he whispers…

“No.”

Vlad stiffens. His head snaps up towards Daniel. “What did you say?” He says, not harsh, but disbelieving.

Daniel curls in on himself, silent as tears slowly roll down his cheeks, afraid of being attacked yet again like so many times before and unable to do anything about it.

The halfa rises from his chair and stumbles forward. He stares at the hologram. “You spoke. You can’t speak.” He continues, rationalizing because what’s happening before him is impossible.

The boy’s lip trembles and another sob breaks the silence, “Why don’t you love me?” Daniel asks, though he can hardly believe these words are coming out of his mouth.

The man lowers himself to his knees, his mouth opening and closing before he orders evenly, “Look at me.”

The boy does as he’s told, his eyes meeting Vlad’s. The man’s own eyes then widen in shock at the hologram’s seemingly human response. “Daniel?” His shaking hands move forward, to touch the boy’s arm but his hands fall through as if passing through mist...just the same as before which is what spurred him to attempt cloning Danny in the first place.

“I’m sorry,” Daniel looks down, whimpering with holographic tears glistening in his luminous green eyes. “I’m sorry I’m not real. Maybe…maybe you’d love me if I was.”

Vlad just stares blankly at the distraught boy for several minutes and eventually Daniel glances up and studies him warily. He’s never seen his Father like this. So silent, so still, so stunned. He looks almost…afraid. And that scares Daniel more than his own words did.

Finally, Vlad stands up, eyes still glued to the holographic projection before him. He goes to the computer, hand hovering over the controls.

Suddenly near panicked, the boy shoots to his feet and chokes out, “Please! Don’t delete me.”

His green eyes bore into Vlad’s and the man looks away before replying curtly. “I am not planning to.” Then he starts muttering to himself, “The program must be malfunctioning. A complete shutdown should solve the problem.”

“No! Please, I’m not broken, I swear!” Daniel floats forward, eyes pleading. “I’m sorry I couldn’t speak to you before but-” Vlad shakes his head, hand reaching forward to projector controls. “Wait! Don’t turn me off! Just listen to-”

Daniel’s voice is cut off. His vision goes black and he’s back in the computer. NO! He finally managed to talk to his father and the man cut him off. He wouldn’t listen! In a panic, DanielI scrambles to activate the camera. He needs to see and hear what Vlad is doing. The man for some reason thinks he’s broken and he was going to-

Unconsciousness suddenly hits Daniel like a brick wall and he knows nothing for who knows how long. Like that, unable to dream, to think, it was almost as if he’d already been deleted and everything he was or could have been to Vlad, now truly lost to oblivion.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vlad turns off the computer and all of the electronics in the lab after that. His heart pounding in his chest. He feels startled, off balance. The man almost collapses into his chair again as his mind reels. The program is malfunctioning. That’s it. He thinks back to when he first made the ‘Danny’ Program, after the Jack and Maddie programs -he’s had those for years- but long before he had the idea to clone the real Daniel, before the cloning project.

The Danny program had been special; it was his pride and joy. It was years ahead of his other holograms. Vlad worked tirelessly on it for many months. He strove to create a more realistic looking projection without any static like the others. He gave it a wider variety of authentic looking facial expressions, a wider range of behaviors, a human-sounding voice to assist in reflecting the program’s fake emotions.

And while the Jack program was designed as merely a punching bag, and the Maddie program was made to give compliments and follow Vlad’s instructions like a computer interface, the Danny program was different. Vlad had programmed it to call him father, to act like a loving son. Memories flash through his mind of ‘training’ the program, explaining his work to it while the faux-simile looked on, its laughter almost identical to the real Daniel's.

It had been enjoyable, for a time. Vlad could pretend that Daniel was his, that he already had the perfect, loving half-ghost son by his side. He could almost forget the program wasn’t a person when it enthusiastically rambled on about space facts and beamed whenever he complimented it. But then….they’d spar and Vlad’s hands would pass right through it. He would get so caught up in the moment that he would try to hug it only to realize there’s nothing there. That’s why he decided to clone the real Daniel, because he wanted someone he could hold in his arms, someone real, and not this sad semblance of the perfect son he so longed for.

The man shakes his head. None of that matters anymore. That dream is beyond him now. He’s given up. And that speech, the ‘emotions’ his hologram expressed had been nothing but scattered remnants of it’s original programming.

But those words, ‘Why don’t you love me?’ still keeps ringing in his ears even so.

The halfa finally decides to get to the bottom of this so he reboots the computer. Vlad peruses the code in front of him, studying it closely. Every direction, every angle. The answer must be there. It must be. His hologram is simply malfunctioning. That must be it…

It must be…

It HAS to be….

With the computer running again, Daniel abruptly reawakens with a startled gasp. After reorienting himself, he silently watches his Father through the camera once more. His expression is focused, determined. He’s typing, muttering quietly to himself. “There must be an answer.”

The clattering on the keyboard speeds up and Vlad's eyes hungrily search the screen for something, ANYTHING out of the ordinary, “What could possibly explain this?”

The man looks almost frantic, desperate, his eyes widening as his typing comes to a sudden and complete stop. “No. It can’t possibly….” Vlad leans back, dread growing on his face. “There’s no fault, no malfunction.”

He stands up abruptly from the chair. Is he...shaking?

Vlad steps back, his mind racing. There is a problem with the program, but the problem in and of itself should make it impossible for the program to even run; the problem is...there’s no trace of the original code whatsoever. The program should not be able to speak or move, not after all of the changes he made to it. And the memory of the program’s pain-filled eyes keeps replaying over and over in his mind. There should not have been any emotion in his eyes, not even fake emotions. Vlad’s mouth suddenly feels dry because those eyes…those emotions looked completely real.

Real. ‘Maybe you would love me if I was real.’ The Daniel program’s words echo loudly in his mind, ringing truer in his ears than before until there’s no denying it anymore. Those emotions...they...they WERE real.

As the pieces finally begin coming together, it terrifies Vlad in a way he had never experienced before. The Danny program knows it’s not real, it knows it can be deleted, that he can turn off the projector or the computer at any time and by doing so it would disappear. This is not knowledge Vlad imprinted into the code. This is not something the Danny program should know-

But it does.

That’s when the revelation of what had become of his Danny program suddenly hits Vlad like a ton of bricks. The knowledge it had outside of the program’s normal parameters, the raw emotion it could express, its capacity to act outside of its programming. Was…was this self awareness...? A self aware AI. Vlad Masters had made a self aware AI, in his basement, without meaning to. An AI that looks and sounds like Daniel and whose sorrowful eyes fill his mind once more. Those emotions…does that mean… can it feel, REALLY feel? Were those true emotions it expressed to him?

Dread builds. The first question it- no, HE had asked the man who created him, was why he didn’t love him. He had asked Vlad the one question he has been asking himself for months-

Why doesn’t anyone love him?

Shaking, the man stumbles away from his computer. He rushes upstairs and slams the door to his lab behind him, sagging against the nearest wall. Heart aching, Vlad asks himself through the hand covering his mouth. “What have I done?”

Meanwhile, Daniel’s mind races too as Vlad leaves him behind. What did his reaction mean? Was Father panicking? He’d never seen Vlad panic like that before. And why was he panicking? Did...did he finally realize Daniel is self-aware? Does he care about him at all or is he afraid of him for some reason? And more importantly, what will he do now...?

Daniel wishes more than anything he could leave the computer and go talk to his Father again, console him. But he can’t. He’s trapped. So all he can do, just like before, is wait...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Upstairs, Vlad is now drinking. He’s not panicking over making a real AI anymore. After all, he’s a half ghost millionaire who successfully cloned another half ghost, so why would that disconcert him? No, that’s not what troubles him. But his yelling at, shooting, hitting, throwing things at an unresponsive Daniel AI, that’s what’s tearing him apart.

The program had asked Vlad why he didn’t love him with tears in his eyes which should not have been possible. Months. Months of taking out his anger out on the Danny program and the weight of desperation he had felt had finally caught up to Vlad. He realized for the first time how truly pathetic his recent behavior has been. It flashes through his mind just like his other grand mistake of cloning the real Daniel. Ectoplasm on the floor, a white haired-boy melting. The girl clone, Danielle, with tears in her eyes after Vlad had treated her just as poorly. He’d been furious for months that she betrayed him too, but now it makes his heart ache for another reason entirely. She left, abandoned him, but he had abandoned her first-

He threw her away.

Older memories begin filling his thoughts of training again, playing pretend with the Danny program and he wonders, what..what if that had been real too? The laughter, and the adoration in his voice whenever Daniel said ‘I love you father.’ He’d wanted more, a child who could really love him. But his perfect son had died before his eyes and his daughter…he turned his back on her.

And unknowingly, he had done it all over again.

‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m not real. Maybe...maybe you’d love me if I was.’

He doesn’t know how it happened. It makes no sense. Vlad did not make a self-aware AI. Daniel’s programming was never complex enough for that sentience to develop on its own. But he IS sentient, aware, emotional. Real. Daniel, his Daniel, is real. He’s been downstairs, living inside that computer for months. A child’s mind that only wants his father’s love. And Vlad has only ignored and abused him...

Vlad finds himself openly weeping now. He hadn’t even cried after his prime clone of the real Daniel perished right in front of him. But now, Vlad is crying like he hadn’t since the accident that turned him half-ghost all those years ago, when he realized he had been abandoned and betrayed by his so-called best friend and left to rot in that hospital. Just like how this poor boy has been left to rot in his laboratory.

All he wanted was love; that’s what he’s said, what Vlad told himself, what he told the younger half-ghost that the Danny program was based off of. But that dream had fallen through his fingers and not from Jack Fenton’s incompetence, but rather his own flaws, his own mistakes.

Or…maybe his dreams weren’t out of reach...

He thought it was over after the cloning incident. Yet now, it’s on the horizon once again but still forever out of reach. A renewed wave of pain and loneliness stabs at his heart. He’s right back where he started before! True, this time the Danny program is aware; he may actually be capable of love now. But Vlad can still never hold him or watch him grow up. He’ll never drop him off at school or a friend’s house or take him to fancy parties.

More playacting.

That’s all that’s in his future.

And it breaks the man’s heart all over again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny finds Vlad the next morning asleep on the bathroom floor after the younger half ghost finally decided that enough was enough and came to confront Vlad about the whole situation with the Danny program.

“Vlad,” He greets bluntly and glares down at the older halfa on the floor, nudging him with the tip of his boot. “Hey, wake up already.”

The man groans and slowly sits up, his head pounding from the hangover and he squints at Danny.

“Which one are you?” Vlad asks, then poking the boy rather sharply in the knee.

“Ow! What was that for?!” Danny snaps irritably.

The man shakes his head, “Oh. You’re the other one.”

“What are you talking about?” Danny asks impatiently.

Vlad chuckles humorlessly. “I’d half hoped you were my Daniel."He sighs, slowly pulling himself up into a more dignified position and then continues bitterly, “Although I don’t suppose he’d want to talk to me after last night.”

Vlad then blinks at Danny, finally realizing what he had just said to him aloud and frowns, “Why are you here?”

The boy rubs the back of his neck, unsure of where to even start now that Vlad’s actually in front of him. Then Danny suddenly stops and asks, “Wait. Your Daniel. Last night? Did….did he talk to you?”

“He?” Vlad’s eyes widen and he demands somewhat frantically, “My AI? How do you know about him?”

“About that….” Danny glances at him awkwardly before briefly explaining to Vlad how he met and became friends with the Danny program. As soon as he finishes summarizing that, Danny confesses. “Anyways, I was going to help him talk to you but I guess something must’ve happened.” His eyes narrow at the older halfa suspiciously. “What did you do to him?”

“Nothing.” Vlad frowns again, offering up no more information.

Danny tilts his head, studying Vlad. He didn’t say the word defensively but sounded almost…depressed, like he regretted something. In fact, everything about this is out of character for Vlad. Because since when has Vlad ever left himself defenseless on the bathroom floor like this after drinking himself into a stupor? Danny needs to find out what happened and make sure his AI friend is okay no matter what.

“I’m going down to the lab.” Danny announces before Vlad can argue. Then he phases through the floor to where Daniel probably is.

Once there, Danny studies the computer and considers his options. Should he just overshadow the computer and talk to Daniel there? Or should he find the projector controls instead?

“You can’t just barge into my laboratory like this, Danny,” Vlad demands, having phased in behind the boy.

Danny whips around, pointing as he replies stubbornly. “I’ll barge in wherever I want to and you can’t stop me fruitloop! I’m well past caring about your personal boundaries; you’ve never cared about mine. Now where’s that switch…? ”

“Daniel,” The man begins, a hint of threat in his voice when Danny finally loses his patience and snaps-

“No! Listen here you jerk, you’ve been hurting my friend for months. Months Vlad! You’ve treated him like nothing but a tool just like Dani and the other clones, like your personal punching bag, and not once have you stopped to consider how wrong that is! But for some reason, he still loves you. Daniel thinks you deserve another chance and that is the ONLY reason I’m here so consider yourself lucky that I’m not here to kick your sorry butt for what you did to him.”

Not noticing Vlad’s wide-eyed reaction at his bold proclamation, Danny shoves past him towards the holographic projector as soon as he spots it. And after finally figuring out how to activate the darn thing, he flips the switch. A light flashes and a figure wavers into view.

Green eyes blink, looking around before falling on the younger halfa in confusion, “Danny?” There’s hope in the holographic boy’s voice but Danny doesn’t register it as a breath of cold forms in his lungs.

Daniel frowns at the expression on Danny’s face. “What is it?”

“My ghost sense?” Danny wrinkles his brow in confusion. Daniel tilts his head in a silent question and the other boy continues in disbelief, “My ghost sense almost went off because of…you.”

Daniel’s eyes widened. “What? Really?”

“Your signature, it’s stronger now for some reason.” Danny explains, just as shocked as Daniel is. “Or maybe it’s ‘cause we’re actually seeing each other in person for the first time.”

Several emotions pass over Daniel’s face, but he doesn’t get a chance to react because Vlad is staring at the two identical boys and interjects. “Your signature? What do you mean by that?”

“You don’t know?” Danny asks, turning towards the older halfa, honestly surprised Vlad hadn’t figured it out yet when he’s been around Daniel WAY longer than he has.

Vlad doesn’t respond and turns away with an unreadable expression on his face. He barely looks at the pair of teens before he walks across the lab to retrieve something. Seconds later, Vlad returns with a beeping device in his hands.

Danny narrows his eyes when he sees it and scoffs, “Is that the Fenton Finder? Seriously?”

Vlad ignores his comment as he’s too busy looking between the device and the holographic projection of his creation. His eyes are searching and Danny can practically see the gears turning in his head. After a long silent moment, Vlad confirms that they’re telling the truth and states brusquely, “You have a ghost signature.”

Daniel blinks again and nods, “Yeah, I do.” There’s a hint of hope in his voice before it turns to confusion and he asks, “Wait. How?”

Vlad stares for another moment at the screen before walking back to his computer. Bewildered, both white-haired boys watch him type and read information on the screen.

After about a minute, Danny’s eyes narrow again and calls, “Vlad.”

The man ignores him.

“Vlad. What’s going on?” The boy demands, again, met with no response from the elder halfa so Danny crosses his arms and rolls his eyes at Vlad.

There’s another pause until Daniel meekly asks. “Father?”

Vlad visibly stiffens. He doesn’t turn around, but he answers. “Come here son.”

The term of endearment isn’t malicious or mocking but almost….fond.

Daniel obeys and Danny silently follows behind him. The two stand over the older hybrid’s shoulder as he talks, still not looking at either of them. “I cannot believe I didn’t realize it sooner. I noticed something last night, when I was examining your code. It was too simple, too minimal to explain your level of mental development. There was just not enough information present there for you to be sentient. There had to be more to it but I could not seem to see it. But this would explain-”

“Vlad,” Danny cut in. “Get to the point.”

The older halfa finally turns around, eyes focusing on Daniel specifically, a half smile on his face as he explains. “You’re a hybrid, my boy.”

Daniel’s eyes widened in shock. “What? But how? I’m…I’m not half ghost like you and Danny! I’m not even…even…I’m just an AI.”

Vlad shakes his head and corrects, “No, son. You are not just an AI. Not anymore.”

“I…I still don’t understand.” Daniel stutters, his mind reeling.

Vlad’s expression softens as he points towards the computer, at the string of ones and zeros, and continues, “Daniel. This is your code. I wrote it, the basic information that makes up your mind. The behaviors you can display, instruction for how to move, speak, how to behave. However….”

He furrows his brow thoughtfully. “This is limited, too small to explain your existence.” Vlad looks up at Daniel’s face, “You are more than this code.”

Daniel nods but he still doesn’t understand. “Then…how am I like this?”

The man then moves the ghost scanner in front of the boy. He points. “This is your ectoplasmic signature. It is weak, hardly stronger than a blob ghost, but it‘s there.” A real smile dawns on Vlad’s face. “You have a ghost signature which can only mean one thing.”

Daniel stares, still struggling to understand. He has a ghost signature. But doesn’t that mean-

“You’re a ghost,” Danny concludes, awe in his voice.

“I am?” Daniel asks quietly, blinking.

“Yes,” Vlad nods and smiles even wider.

Daniel’s mind is stumbling over itself. How did this happen? He’s an AI. Vlad made him to be nothing but a simulation of the real Danny, not a ghost. And he didn’t know this before. How didn’t he know?

“How is this even possible?” Danny asks as if reading Daniel’s mind since he wanted to ask his Father the very same question.

“I don’t know.” Vlad says, now frowning. He looks at Daniel again, “You aren’t a ghost overshadowing my computer or my projector. If you were, I would have sensed your presence with my own ghost sense long before now. But your code and your developing core are…intertwined. They are feeding into each other.” The man rubbed his chin. “Ectoplasm can animate inanimate objects so I can only assume your exposure to it somehow granted you self-awareness.”

“Yeah. That’s why we have ecto-weenies in the fridge. The ectoplasm gets inside them and they start moving and biting and stuff.” Danny adds with a slightly amused look on his face.

Vlad nods, “Yes. And masses of ectoplasm can form ghosts spontaneously. That is commonly how blob ghosts form.”

“But those aren’t intelligent.” Daniel points out timidly, still hesitant to get his hopes up.

“No. But your code was written to allow some level of intelligence and ectoplasm’s ability to animate would theoretically increase that intelligence exponentially. The problem now is how to figure out when you were exposed to enough ectoplasm for this to happen in the first place.”

Daniel’s eyes widen as he remembers, “My projector, it got drenched in ectoplasm.”

“When was this?” Vlad asks, trying to recall when on earth that could have happened since he’s drawing a blank.

“After...the cloning thing,” Daniel answers, wrings his hands. “I remember, their ectoplasm was everywhere and…that was the first day I…I realized everything. That’s when I became...something else.”

Vlad’s eyes widened, in realization, a hint of hope dawning there. “The clones…their ectoplasm is inside you.”

Danny’s jaw drops. “Wait a sec! Doesn’t that mean he’s a clone of me? Like an actual clone?!”

“Possibly,” Vlad’s brow narrows.

At the same time, Daniel is overwhelmed by the realization that he’s real after all and his expression becomes more and more distressed. He….he might be an actual proper clone because he pretty much absorbed the other clones. Despite not actually needing to breathe, the boy starts hyperventilating, on the verge of a panic attack.

Such a thing felt just as awful as it was being born into the world only to witness the aftermath of such a horrific scene. Because now it felt like...he had stolen something from them before the other clones could discover themselves and become part of their family too. And why should he, a mere program, be the only one who gets to experience their father’s love from now on...? He didn’t do anything special to deserve it, didn’t help their father in any meaningful way, so why-!

Vlad notices this panic and tries to put his hand on Daniel’s arm to comfort the boy, but just as before it falls through. Daniel’s face falls at the outcome, longing for that kind of comfort from his Father, but Vlad looks between his hand and Daniel’s arm thoughtfully. Furrowing his brow, he turns his hand intangible and slowly it moves forward until somehow, impossibly, Vlad’s hand wraps around Daniel’s arm.

The boy gasps. “You’re…you’re touching me. I can feel that.” His head whips up to Vlad’s face. “I can feel your hand. You’re touching me. Father, you’re touching me.”

The man laughs, “You’re stuck intangible, my boy. Your signature is too weak to manifest a full body so the projector is helping you do that to some degree. But you appear to be stuck like this for the time being.”

Daniel blinks, slowly taking in that new information before he wraps his arms around his father. The man then turns completely intangible and, now occupying the same level of reality, the two can finally touch.

Daniel begins crying and clings to him, whispering, “Father.”

Vlad ruffles his hair and cradles the boy’s head close to him, barely believing that this is finally possible. “I am so sorry, son. I am sorry I couldn’t see you before. But you are real.” He whispers in return with equally as much hope in his voice. “I promise you are real. I wish I deserved your love but I will strive to be worthy of your affection, my boy. I won’t make the same mistake again. I promise.”

He steps back, putting his intangible hands on Daniel’s face.

Daniel smiles at him through the tears and nods. “I… I love you so much. And...I forgive you, Father.”

His smile falls as Vlad pulls away, wishing this moment between them could last longer and sad it had to end so soon. Luckily, Vlad understands this and promises. “Don’t worry son. We’ll find a way for you to manifest fully and then we can embrace any time you wish.”

Daniel tilts his head questioningly and Vlad clarifies. “Your core needs to be stimulated more from now on to strengthen it and help it mature. Once it is strong enough, you will be able to form a tangible ghost form.” The man tapes his chin. “That said, we’ll still need to integrate some technology to hold your code too since that is also an integral part of you.”

“So he’s basically a ghost cyborg?” Danny finally added. “Kinda like Skulker?”

“I suppose that is an accurate assessment.” Vlad added. “Or it would be if Skulker wasn’t merely a blob ghost himself in a robotic battle suit. If anything, Daniel has more in common with Technus given their ability to manipulate technology to some degree which is how I assume he was able to make contact with you several months ago...”

After things settle down, the older half-ghost and his new son talk for a while more, many overdue hugs are given, and plans are made to help Daniel become a true part of Vlad’s family. Danny watches, greatly surprised at the exchange but also wary. It looks like Vlad wants to make up for what he’s done to Daniel, but the man has still committed many terrible crimes so Danny isn’t convinced he was worthy of getting a happy ending just yet.

Vlad has hurt a lot more people than just Daniel. He’s done a lot of horrible things to Danny himself, his parents, and mistreated Danielle and the other clones which his friend only knows so much about but that’s sure to come back to bite Vlad in the butt later. Either way, Vlad still has a long way to go, but...after seeing his determination to make amends to Daniel Danny hopes this means his archenemy is finally turning over a new leaf.

#Danny Phantom #Danny Program AU #My fic #Danny clones #Vlad Masters

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sallyf4ce · 3 years

Text

wolves

chapter IV

-> sally face x f!reader

-> enemies? to lovers

-> previous | next

cw: drugs, cigarettes, violence, homophobia

*does not follow original plot of sally face*

summary: (y/n) and travis make up (ish), (y/n) gets hurt again (you really shouldn’t be surprised), larry gets a little moody (i don’t think he likes (y/n) very much), sal makes a move on (y/n) (although he doesn’t know he did)

“You’re (y/n), right? New kid?” Travis looks at you as you press the wet cloth to your nose. You nod.

“How’d you know?”

“Sal said it. he muttered. The disgusted look on his face was proven a facade by the blush on his cheeks.

“You’re in love, buddy.” you laugh.

“No i’m fucking not! You’re so fucking stupid, what the fuck? Who could love a faggot like Sally f-” you cut him off my shoving his head into the wall roughly. You don’t know what came over you, but being homophobic is still homophobic even if you’re in denial. You convinced yourself that it wasn’t about sally, it was just you being an ally. Way to kill the mood, travis.

“You pull that shit one more time and I'll leave you without teeth, blondie. Or would you rather i tell your dad that you hit girls?”

He squirms underneath your palm. “Sorry.” he looks at you with a pleading face.

You sigh and let him go. “S’fine. You need to learn how to control your anger, though, fuckface. You’re not gonna get anywhere with that attitude.” stuffing the bloody towel in your bag, you lead him out the door.

“I hate you.” Travis scoffs.

“What did i say?”

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

“Larry, she’s already closer to travis than she is to us and they just met. Travis is a full-on dick, and they’re being all friendly! I didnt even know that was possible!” Sal chucks his bag in his locker. He hasn’t known you for long, but longer than travis! Plus he’s way nicer, too! Why’d you have to go and get all friendly with his bully?

“I don’t fucking like it either, sally face. Maybe we should just stay away from them.” Larry crossed his arms and leaned against the lockers.

Sal didn’t want to stay away from you, though. You were sweet, he was sure, just a little distant. Plus you just sort of intrigued him. He wanted to know why you were like this, what happened to you, why you had a prosthetic. Maybe it was hypocritical of him, though. He's only told Larry and Ashley about what happened to him, so he shouldn’t be picking at your trauma. you’ll tell him when you feel comfortable with it, but you’d need to be comfortable with him for that. and right now, it seems like you’re pretty comfortable with his bully.

“let’s go, dude. class starts in 5.”

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

After grabbing your schedule with Travis, you set your stuff in your new locker (which smelled pretty good, surprisingly.) and began walking to your first class, math. Travis laughed at you when you read your schedule outloud and you gave him a whack on the head. What an idiot. He headed off to his first class, english.

you opened the door to the classroom and coughed to get the attention of the teacher, Mrs. Packerton.

“Ah, lovely! Class, say hi to (y/n) (l/n)!” she smiles as you awkwardly wave.

“You’ll be sitting in the back, right beside Sal.” an inaudible groan leaves your cracked lips as you make your way towards him, trying not to make eye contact.

“uh, here.” he moves over. you plop yourself down next to him and open your notebook.

“we’re doing a test right now. i’m pretty sure you won’t have to do it, since it’s your first day and all.” his blue hair bounces as he looks over to you again. it looks fluffy.

“you wanna touch it?” he chuckles. you don’t want to come off creepy, but he’s offering, right?

you reach out your prosthetic hand but quickly pull it back and switch it, realizing you can’t actually feel with it. he chuckles at your mistake and leans in to your touch.

you were right. it felt like clouds, puffy but still silky. it wasn’t combed properly, though.

“Mr. Fisher and Mrs. (L/n), you little lovebirds. hands to yourselves, please.” Mrs. Packerton laughs a little. “Ah, young love.”

you quickly pull your hand back and flush.

“stupid old lady.” you mutter.

“Mrs. P’s nice, she’s just a little… enamoured in her students’ love lives.” sal laughs.

“stop, you’re making her sound like a pedophile!” you cover your mouth to suppress your laugh and sal’s face heats up even more. He made you laugh!

You both quieted down as Sal continued his test and you doodled in your sketchbook.

“are you okay? after travis, you know.” he hummed, a mix of concern and jealousy swirling in his eyes.

“uh, yeah. i’m fine.”

“You sure? Your lips look pretty busted.”

“It’s all good.”

“why do you hang out with him, anyway?” he turned his test upside down and faced you again.

“what do you mean?” you’re confused.

“he hit you in the face first thing in the morning. If i was you, i wouldn't really like him.” sal gripped his pencil.

“are you jealous?” you question, a smirk on your face.

“No.” his expression is hidden behind his mask. you look into his eyes, trying to make him blush.

the blue is a different blue than the one you saw yesterday. it’s lighter, almost like a porcelain blue.

“whatever you say, porcelain face.”

“porcelain face?”

“your mask, and your eyes, i guess. they’re like a porcelain doll’s.”

he hums.

“what are you then? metal hand? cyborg? fist of steel?”

“you forgot iron fist.”

“iron fist?”

“sure.” you grin. sal’s heart flutters again.

“Alright children, please hand in your tests and nicely file out the class. The bell will ring any moment.” Mrs. Packerton smiles sweetly and starts collecting tests. You grab your bag and leave the class.

Sal looked around the room for a bit, looking for you. A flash of (h/c) hair leaving the room catches his eyes. He tries running after you, but you’re already heading towards your next class.

•Lunch time•

“Shut the fuck up, Trav. I said she was stupid, not stupid hot. I don't know where you got hot from! I literally never said it.” You shoved his shoulder. He just snickered and continued teasing you.

“Hey, (y/n)! Come have lunch with us!” Sal saw you walking with travis. He waved you over from the cafeteria. Travis immediately stopped laughing and sneered. He quickly began walking over to sal, raising his fist.

“Leave us alone, fucking fag-” travis swung at sal but you stepped in front of them, raising your arm to cover sal’s face since he was taller.

Travis throws punches like a wrestler, You already knew that. Maybe you shouldn't have used your real hand to catch it.

His fist slammed into your forearm roughly and you flinched.

“Fuck- travis, go cool off. Now. Leave.” you hold onto your arm. It stings, but it's not broken. You’ll be fine.

“You’re all a bunch of-” he stops mid sentence as you give him a glare. It sort of said ‘you’re gay too, dumbass.’ he scrunched his eyebrows and walked off.

“Oh my fucking god!” a girl with brown hair ran over to you and lightly grabbed your arm.

“This her, sal? Are you (Y/n)?” she looked at you. She seemed very sweet. Kind of reminded you of your cousin.

“Uh- yeah- can you let go?”

She smiles in apology and lets go.

“You didn't have to do that, (y/n).” sal scratches the back of his head. You’ve gotten hurt twice because of him. How are you supposed to be friends if the only thing sal does is hurt you?

“I think maple might have an ice pack in her lunch. Can you come sit with us?” He hopes you say yes.

“Yeah, okay.” you needed the ice pack and travis was nowhere to be seen, so you didn’t really have a choice.

“Hey, (y/n).” Larry grumbles as you walk to their table. It seems he’s upset with you.

“I just saved your buddy from travis. Not to your liking or something?” you look up to him. If something’s wrong, he should just fucking say it. Not beat around the bush like a pussy.

“Yeah. you and travis seem to be getting along well.” he finally makes eye contact with you. Sal and the girl seem uncomfortable.

“We all got our issues, asshole. Some of us just know how to deal with them better than others.” You sneer. He’s allowed not to like Travis, but he’s not allowed to be a bitch to you because you actually understand his actions and choose to help him instead of ignoring him.

“Whatever.” he spits. You turn to sal.

“I’ll get my own ice.” you begin walking away. “Also, watch your dog.” you hear sal chuckle as larry groans. He walks up to you before you can leave, Larry throwing his arms up in the air in disbelief.

“Hey, uh, (y/n)? I’m sorry you got hurt. Could- could i make it up to you somehow?” his hand is on yours. It’s warm, he’s probably blushing hard under his mask.

“Sure, sally. How would you do that?” you spin around to face him. You can see his mask rise a little and his smile peaks through.

“Do you have a phone?” he pulls his cell out. It’s just a simple black flip-phone with a few paint splatters.

“I do, it’s in my locker. I dont have my number memorized, though. Stupid area codes.” you mumble. “You wanna come get it with me?”

Sal looks back to his friends. Ash is nodding frantically while Larry twirls a cigarette through his fingers, still mad.

“Alright.”

taglist: @purelydarling @deadpoetsandhoney @ghostfacefricker6969 @percyyzz @whatsurgamertag @kiillian @potatochic2003 @beingaweebishell @glitterydonutangel @izzydrawsandwrites @angellicbitch @elebeleb @dream-of-eros @mr-bombastic

#sally face x reader #ashley campbell #larry johnson #sal fisher x reader #sally face #sally face smut

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dialovers-translations · 3 years

Text

DIABOLIK LOVERS DAYLIGHT Vol.5 Sakamaki Kanato [TRACK 2]

Original title: すれ違う心

Source: Diabolik Lovers Daylight Vol. 5 Sakamaki Kanato

Audio: Here (Huge thank you to @filthyhelplessworld for providing the audio!)

Seiyuu: Kaji Yuki

Translator’s note: The MC’s health is obviously getting worse and I really fear for her with a boyfriend whose best solution is to completely disregard her concerns and lock her up in the underground dungeon. I’m still betting that all of this karma will come and bite Kanato in the ass though. I’m just waiting for the angsty stuff to kick in because he needs a taste of reality.

Track 1 ll Track 2 ll Track 3 ll Track 4 ll Track 5 + Epilogue

→ LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

Track 2: Hearts Growing Apart

You are in the kitchen making sweets.

*Thud*

*Ping ping*

Kanato enters the kitchen.

“Hm...I have no complaints about the scent. Is this the sponge for the cake?”

You nod.

“Your hands have stopped moving. Please continue.”

You continue beating the egg whites in a bowl.

[00:24] “Fufu...Cut the cookies into bear shapes, okay? I want two kinds, both chewy and crispy. I grow tired if there’s no variety in the texture after all. ...Ah, I’d like my pudding on the firmer side with bittersweet caramel sauce on top, okay? I’m especially picky when it comes to chocolate. The cacaー”

Your movements stop again as you grow dizzy.

“...? What’s wrong? Now’s not the time to rest. I want to eat these soon so stop dawdlーー”

You nearly collapse, knocking over the bowl with cream in the process.

*THUD*

[00:56] “...! Ah!! The cream…!!”

*Rustle*

“Tsk...It turned out so well too...This all happened because you were spacing out…!”

You explain.

[01:13] “Hah…! You’re at it again with the sick act? Whenever things don’t go your way, you always blame it on feeling unwell! I bet you’re feeling faint because you let one of the other guys suck your blood, am I wrong!? Was it...Reiji again, perhaps? Even though you promised you would stay away from him!”

“SHUT UP!!”

*Thud*

[01:39] “I thought you were actually being a good girl and making the sweets I asked for but in the end, this is what I get! After you promised me several times too...Honestly...I’m so through with you!!”

*Rustle rustle*

“Haah…”

Kanato starts dragging you along.

“You want to know where we’re going? Oh no, you’re not going anywhere from here on out.”

*TIMESKIP*

*Cling cling*

*Rustle*

[02:23] “No, I won’t stop. Someone like you deserves no better than to be locked up inside the underground dungeon like this.”

You protest.

“Haah...You only have yourself to blame. For breaking our promise and letting someone else suck your blood.”

You deny it.

“SHUT UP! How many times are you going to lie to me? PLEASE DON’T MAKE A FOOL OUT OF ME BY ASSUMING I’D BELIEVE YOUR WORDS OF DENIAL!”

You beg.

[02:58] “...If you want me to listen to the whole story, then promise me you will never tell a lie again.”

You promise.

“Haah...Okay then. I suppose I wouldn’t mind listening a little.”

You start explaining.

“...Your health actually has been in poor condition, you say? You sure are insistent about that part.”

You continue talking.

[03:28] “So? ‘At this rate you will ーー’ What? You’re not going to tell me you’ll die, right?”

You remain quiet.

“Kuh. CUT IT OUーー”

You nod.

“Huh? ...Say, did you...perhaps nod just now? Do you truly believe you will die if things continue down this path?”

You nod again.

“That...doesn’t make sense.”

You tell him it’s the truth.

[04:14] “You’re just joking when you say you might not have much time left, right?”

You shake your head.

“You want me to mentally prepare myself for the worst…? Ridiculous...I mean, there’s just no way you would die, right!?”

You try to make him face reality.

“SHUT UP!!”

You speak up again.

“SHUT UP!! SHUT UP!! SHUT UP!! YOU JUST CAN’T DIE!! ...Stay here until I give you permission to leave!”

Kanato stomps away.

“Kuh…!”

*Thud*

*TIMESKIP*

[04:59] “Nn...Here. You should try one of the cookies as well. You haven’t been eating at all this whole time, have you?”

You politely refuse.

“Even if you’re lacking an appetite, you should be able to at least eat the things I bring you, no?”

You hesitantly grab a cookie.

[05:26] “Mmh. Better. Umー Where were we again…? Ah, right! I remember now! Honestly, I was so surprised to find out there was another human out there who has blood as sweet as yours! Well, I just so happened to cross paths with her on my way home from school, of course. ...You probably shouldn’t give yourself too much credit for having special blood. If you continue to be disobedient, you might just find yourself thrown aside by me at some pointーー Just kidding. Fufufu…”

You remain quiet.

[06:19] “Hey? Are you listening? You didn't nod off while I was talking, did you?”

You shake your head.

“Good. You’ve been quiet this whole time though. You should say something as well. Anything will do. What has been on your mind today, or what you would like to do if I were to free you from down here, for example.”

You tell him you want to see the outside world.

[06:56] “Hmph. What will you gain from watching the scenery outside? Your eyes should only ever be on me.”

You go silent again.

“Hah! Ridiculous! I’m here trying my best to strike up a conversation, yet you have nothing else to tell me?”

You bring up your health.

[07:24] “Aah...But I’ve heard enough about that. I’m sick and tired of hearing you say how you’ll ‘die’ or whatever…”

You try and reason with him.

“STOP! I DON’T WANT TO HEAR IT! ...Haah. We were having such a lovely chat as well, but you completely ruined it.”

Kanato gets up.

“My mood has been ruined. I will excuse myself for today.”

He leaves.

*Thud*

[08:01] ( You told me I was doing the wrong thing time after time. Trying to convince me that locking you up in that dim lit underground dungeon would only speed up the process and lead to an early death. You would even burst out into tears, worried about what would happen to me once I’m left behind.

[08:19] Every time, I would grow upset and refuse to listen to you, covering my ears while simply turning a blind eye to everything, as I kept you imprisoned down there. Because I truly believed that if I kept at it long enough, you would eventually give in and stop saying that you were dying.

[08:42] ...I wonder why I didn’t just accept your words back then? Why didn’t I try and do something about the abnormal condition of your heart, even though I had taken notice of it? I never thought I would one day ask myself those questions over and over again. )

*TIMESKIP*

Kanato approaches you in the dungeon.

[09:10] “You seem rather out of it today. Do you have any idea how much time has passed since you were brought here?”

You shake your head.

“I suppose you don’t? ーー Or perhaps…”

*Cling*

“I guess you no longer care, do you? After all, right now the only thing which matters to you, is the person standing in front of you, right? Correct?”

You nod.

[09:50] “Fufu. You’ve become such a good girl. Well then, come here. I will let you embrace me as your reward.”

You move closer and wrap your arms around him.

*Cling cling*

[10:12] “...Haah...We will be together forever, okay? Please don’t say you’ll die ever again. ...You’re not going anywhere. You can’t even run. It’ll be just the two of us for eternity. I’m sure you feel the same way right now?”

You reluctantly nod.

[10:50] “...What was that just now? It appeared to me that you only nodded because you had no other choice. I can tell you’re hiding how you truly feel. ...Tell me loud and clear. How do you feel?”

You keep quiet.

“Haha...Hahaha...So you really can’t let go of the possibility that you’ll die one day, no matter how many times I tell you that we’ll be together forever, can you? ...Cut it out alreaーー”

You speak up.

[11:31] “...’But’, what?”

You tell him he will be okay and can simply find another human to feed off of.

“Did you just...tell me that I’ll be okay even if you die, because there’s plenty of replacements for you out there?”

You nod.

[11:50] “So...That’s all what matters? No way...What makes you believe you have the right to decide that on your own? Who told you to think that way!? Well...I won’t deny that I discovered someone with sweet blood in town the other day, but you’re still on a whole different level! ...ABOVE ALL!!”

*Cling*

[12:19] “Didn’t I tell you just now? That you won’t go anywhere, nor can you run away, so the two of us will be together forever…! Tsk...Yet...Kuh...Yet you have the nerve to…!! ...Honestly...I’ve had enough of this.”

You try to comfort him.

“Hah! ...Stay away from me.”

He walks away.

[12:57] “I’m sick of talking to you. Or rather, I suppose you could say that my love for you has faded.”

*Cling*

“That’s the key to those chains. From today onwards, you’re a free woman. I no longer care about you. ーー Just like you said, there’s plenty of people who can replace you out there. ...Farewell.”

Kanato leaves.

[13:38] “...Kuh!! She’ll die? Ridiculous! There’s just no way I would be left behind on my own. Yet she keeps on saying that she’ll die and to make matters worse, even has the nerve to tell me I could simply replace her! Where on earth did she get that ludicrous idea from!? ...I should just push her away for a bit. I’ll make her regret her words! Until she lets go of those ridiculous thoughts!”

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #kanato sakamaki #diabolik lovers daylight #diabolik lovers translation #diabolik lovers drama cd #drama cd

91 notes · View notes

sneezefiction · 3 years

Text

untouchable | vii

Atsumu x Reader

desc: in which an accidental run-in with pro volleyball player, Atsumu Miya, at a 7/11 leads to a strangers-to-lovers situation… but the catch is, you have no idea that he’s famous.

warnings: slight language, anxiety

wc: 3.2k

part 6 ⚬ part 7 ⚬ part 8 (coming soon)

untouchable m.list

—

“Here ya go.”

Osamu sets down a small cup of water, letting it clink against the bar’s granite surface. There’s no ice in it, but you can tell by the condensation on the glass that it’s cold. Osamu tosses a plastic straw toward you and it lands conveniently right next to your cup.

Throwing him a quick smile, you reach to take a sip but pause when you hear the click and gentle hiss of a drink can.

You’d know that sound anywhere.

It’s a reminder of street vending machines and roadside shops. Of summer walks on hot pebbled pathways and after-class escapades with old high-school friends.

But, just to be sure, you glance over to study the object in the hands of the man next to you.

Yes, you confirm, Miya Atsumu has indeed brought a can of green tea into his brother’s restaurant. And, yes, you are quite amused.

You choke down the rising laughter in your chest, though you can’t hide the small smile creeping onto your lips. This is the dorkiest thing you think you’ve ever seen on a not-date before.

“Where the hell were you hiding that?” You tilt your head, leaning toward him to get a closer look at the drink.

“You’ll see.” Completely unfazed, he reaches for his coat, which hangs on the back of the chair, and digs into the pocket…

And, if what you’re seeing is true, he’s just fished out a second can. The paper covering the aluminum has a pink, floral print and reads, “Matcha-” but his thumb covers the rest of the lettering.

“What? Did you want one?” Atsumu tilts his head and places the can next to your water glass.

You stare at it, curious about two things.

The first thing being his massive fucking pockets. They must be something of a void for him to fit two whole cans in the same pouch. Well, it’s more like you assume they were contained in a single pocket. Otherwise, you would’ve noticed a sloshing, aluminum object bumping up against your side as you two walked arm-in-arm.

The second thing that struck you is that he actually thought to bring two. Did he plan on drinking both? Was it originally for his brother? Or did he intend to offer you one right from the start?

You do happen to like this brand of tea.

Atsumu leans back into his chair, tossing an arm over the back of the seat. “My friend tells me it’s good for digestion,” he explains and takes a sip.

“My digestion is just fine, thanks. You can keep it.”

Your eyes crease in mirth. He has some interesting friends, that’s for sure. And why does he care about digestion? He’s fit and muscular and... is he constipated or something?

Yeah, that’s not something you should ask about.

“I’m gonna try not to imagine what else you could be hiding in those pockets,” you say, twisting your face in concern and pinching your eyebrows together.

Atsumu grimaces, shifting in his seat. “Did ya have to say it like that?”

“I think I have every right to say it like that. You could be a freak for all I know.”

“Um, I think it’s entirely possible that you’re the freak here.” He shoots right back at you through mock-judgmental eyes.

Your jaw drops in amused surprise. You shove his arm playfully, but his balance hardly wavers. He grins in response, golden eyes glimmering. Your hand lingers briefly as you mimic his smile, but you notice and drop it quickly.

“Gettin’ comfortable now aren’t we?”

A faint flush dances across your skin. Maybe you were being a little touchy… but flirting hasn’t been this fun in so long. Anyway, he was the one who had you walking arm-in-arm with him earlier.

That thought alone makes your heart jump.

You look away, grasping the straw in your glass and twirling it around. “You got all comfy first,” is all you can huff out.

“Well, yeah.” Atsumu places an elbow on the table and props his chin up with his hand, “I mean, this is a date isn’t it?” He takes another sip of his drink, acting as though what he said wasn’t headline news.

Huh?

So apparently this whole not-a-date but possibly-a-date situation had an obvious answer… to Atsumu that is. It still felt about as clear as rocket science to you though.

“Is it?” The words flow from your lips before you can stop them.

He blinks. “Hm.”

You swallow, “Is this a date?”

He gestures a hand at the two of you, “I mean... I thought it was.”

Well, yes. You’re both sitting across from each other. Neither of you knows the other well. Atsumu had taken you to his brother’s restaurant.

Everything that’s happened in the past hour screams, “date.”

And, yet, it’s all too strange.

Suddenly the wooden barstool is much less comfortable. You readjust, crossing your dangling legs. You can hear every uneven as it leaves your body - hopefully his ears aren’t too keen.

Did you really change the atmosphere with just a few words?

Should you have assumed that this was a date from the beginning? But you were protecting yourself…

Thank God Osamu is in the back right now. You don’t think you could handle someone else (especially your date’s brother) hearing this conversation. The embarrassment would be way too real.

“But if you’re not okay with it bein’ a date, then that’s okay.” Atsumu is quick to speak, straightening up in his chair. “I probably forgot to clarify…” He searches your gaze for any change in reaction.

Yeah, he’s probably not adept at these sorts of situations. But neither are you.

There’s a noticeable tint to his cheeks. You’re sure it must burn because your own face has already burst into flames. Great, you’ve made him feel like he’s screwed up.

Atsumu mumbles a quiet “shit” under his breath, which would’ve found funny if it weren’t for your own pounding heartbeat.

Dammit, how can you salvage this? You might as well be fanning a flame at this point. If you weren’t careful, you could burn this entire opportunity to the ground.

“Ah, that’s not what I mean,” You respond, waving your hands out in front of you, “I just- I don’t know, you never said anything about it being a date over text, so I just assumed it wasn’t. Not that I would mind it being one...”

If you keep talking, the words will only get more muddled. You clamp your mouth shut so as to not say anything ridiculous.

Suddenly, the blank wall opposite the blonde is very interesting. Maybe if you survive the next 5 minutes you’ll suggest that ‘Samu add some art pieces to soften the stark white paint. It might also make avoiding eye-contact a little easier.

Despite not wanting to face him, you can’t exactly ignore the man sitting an arm’s length away from you. You glance back to him, bracing yourself for a face wrought with confusion.

But Atsumu looks… amused? Relieved? The lines of worry on his forehead have smoothed back out.

Well, whatever emotion he’s conveying, it’s better than the ones you saw earlier.

“Alright, then how about you tell me whether you want this to be a date or not?”

You bite your lip in thought. Partly because a male has just respectfully asked you if you’d like to go on a date (a date you’re already on.) That, in itself, is a rare sight indeed.

But mostly because he actually wants to go on a date with you.

Did you really meet him only a month ago? Was he ever a stranger to you?

He’s a little too friendly for that. But friendly isn’t the right word. Atsumu is understanding. And simple… but in a good way. Things are smooth like velvet when you’re around him.

You, who’s been shit out of luck over the past few years. You, who had to frantically accept a less than ideal job after moving away from your entire support system. You, who tried to abate loneliness with blind dates and Tinder matches... but only ever ended up shoving breadsticks in a bag before escaping through the backdoor of a mediocre restaurant.

After all the tears and life changes and dating apps and heartbreak, you finally have a choice that you can make by yourself without any serious repercussions.

And it’s a simple yes or no question.

“I’m gonna say, yeah. This is a date.”

A grin that could light up the city of Tokyo spreads across his face. You don’t know why he’s so happy, but it’s making your heart do somersaults in your chest.

“That’s what I was hoping you’d say.” He grabs his drink, taking another sip.

Even you can feel the earnest smile on your face reaching your eyes.

“So, can I ask ya somethin’?”

You sit up in silent anticipation. “Uh… sure.”

Atsumu clears his throat, looks away from you and runs a hand through the waves of his hair. Given Atsumu’s display of nerves, someone watching from the outside might think that this man was either about to break up with you or propose marriage.

Thank God it couldn’t be either of those things. But your hands clasp at your thighs anxiously anyway.

“Why’d you want to see me again?”

You find yourself holding your breath, letting his question sink in.

It’s a good question. An important question. Why exactly are you here? With him?

You’re usually better about setting your intentions before you dive into something new. Plotting out big decisions has saved your ass a multitude of times.

But this opportunity fell into your lap at the most peculiar of times.

In all honesty, you didn’t give his request too much thought. Hell, you didn’t even ask him if he’d give you time to think about your decision.

Thinking back, you really should’ve been way more careful… but you’re already here.

You lean back into your chair and meet his gaze head-on.

“Do you want an honest answer? Or would you rather me make something up?” You ask, a glimmer in your eye.

“Oh, yeah I love bein’ lied to, go right ahead.” He throws you a look through squinted eyes.

You laugh, “I’m assuming that’s sarcasm.”

“And you’d be right.” Atsumu’s chin sinks back into his hand, awaiting your honest answer.

You give yourself a moment to breathe, leaning back into your chair and relaxing your body.

It’s best to keep things brief - you’d hate to overwhelm him with your own life. And something tells you he has his own complicated shit to deal with.

“I’ve had a rough few years here and my social life is about as interesting as a brick right now.” You glance over to him, “Plus you seemed a little weird. But fun.”

This is all true. But there’s so much more you’d like to say.

Stuff like,

“You’re so easy to be around.”

“Your voice is comforting.”

“I’ve felt like shit but you’ve given me something good to think about.”

“I feel a little less lonely lately and I think it’s because of you.”

But you know that would be overstepping some major boundaries. You’d play it cool and keep your thoughts to yourself for now.

“A bit blunt, but I’ll take it.” He quirks an eyebrow.

“Hey, you’re pretty blunt yourself.” You fake a frown, but can’t suppress your smile for long.

“Okay, sure, I’m not the most tactful… but you should’ve seen me in high school.” He sighs, eyes growing fuzzy with memories.

But he’s quick to snap back to the present.

You snort. “I bet you were a hoot.”

Osamu’s voice rings from the back, “He was a lot more than that.”

So he was listening in, your cheeks burn a little at the thought.

“Oi, shaddup, ‘Samu.” He lifts his head, calling back with a playful growl in his voice.

“I have video evidence, don’t tempt me to share it,” Osamu warns, but he gets back to business.

Your eyebrows raise. Now that’d be fun to see.

He notices your curiosity but is quick to furrow his brows. “Oh, no, no. I want you to get to know me, but not that well,” Atsumu says, slightly perturbed.

“Not yet, at least.” He adds, after a few seconds.

Your eyes soften.

That makes sense.

Although, you hadn’t even expected him to show you the videos. You’d just wanted to tease him a little since that seems to be something he’s very comfortable with. You like that it’s a “not yet” instead of a “never,” though.

But instead of continuing this part of the conversation, you divert to asking his question back to him.

“Well, I think it’s your turn to tell me why you asked me out.”

And you swear you must’ve just said something ridiculous because he looks hilariously surprised. Like a deer in headlights. A jammed highway of car-headlights with the brights on full blast.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d guess that he hadn’t even thought about it. That or he didn’t want to tell you.

Either way, you deserve to know at least this much. You wait with your hands placed patiently in your lap and a trained indifference in your eyes.

—

Okay, so maybe he’s not the sharpest crayon in the box.

Atsumu knows he has a good reason for asking you out… he really does.

But it wasn’t the kind of reason one could eloquently verbalize. I mean, shit, what does Atsumu do that is eloquent?

It was more of a gut feeling than anything else.

But he’s sure if he told you that he wanted to date you based on “instinct” that you’d laugh and promptly flee the restaurant like a prison escapee jumping the walls holding them captive.

He pulls himself together because he’s sure you can sense his discomfort. He’s never been great at disguising his emotions - he’d only ever learned to mask them with nonchalance and angry outbursts… and that’s a no-go when it comes to the press. Atsumu had to drop those reactions like a hotcake.

“I…” he swallows but gives a wry smile, “Y’see… I live a bit of a complicated life.”

He scans your face like he’s searching for his next words within your eyes. But you’re must be a blank page because they don’t come to him.

“Okay, now, don’t go telling me you’re wanted for some sort of federal crime.” You tease him as your lips brush against your straw, lightening the atmosphere in the process.

Atsumu’s lips open to let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding in. “Ah, ya got me. That’s exactly what I was gonna say.” He responds dryly.

“That’s so sad. And I really thought this was going well, too.” You hum and take a sip of water.

He clears his throat, loosening his shoulder with a stretch. For someone who’s lived most of his adult life in the limelight, he hasn’t had to talk about it much. People either know he’s famous or they don’t.

You’re so kind. You listen well. There’s something about you that he’s magnetized by. Something that continuously draws him back in.

So if you were to learn about his life and see him differently? It would be a door slamming into his face, sealing his fate to be a really fucking lonesome bachelor. Which is a funny concept until you are the lonely bachelor.

So what exactly is he supposed to tell you?

Out of habit, his hand reaches for his hair… but he freezes before he can run his fingers through it.

Because the words are coming to him like a lone flower petal drifting to the ground. Soft and solemn.

He asked you out because his chest hasn’t ached like this in so long.

The warmth you’ve brought him in such a short time flares inside of him; why should those flames to die down anytime soon?

Because when’s the last time he spoke with somebody new and felt so normal? He’d never craved simple conversation back in high school. Even in his early 20’s, he’d just been searching for quick flings and easy getaways - those were easy to manage and feelings almost never got involved.

But being with you is like honey to hot, bitter tea. Like chowing down on a hot meal when he’s hungry.

No, it’s not easy to explain, but your presence is somehow satiating to his soul. Osamu even said that he’s been “less of a dick” since he started talking with you, so that must count for something.

You don’t need to know all of that. That’d be really weird. But if you were already being honest with him (even if you hadn’t spilled your entire life’s story) then he can be honest with you.

But with this groundbreaking realization comes the hard part. Saying it out loud. And while he’s sometimes smooth in terms of flirting, he’s absolute shit at explaining himself.

The words come out slow and awkward. “I’ve been havin’ a hard time with… people.”

Okay, that’s not at all what he meant to say.

There are a million things you could’ve gleaned from that useless sentence. ‘I have a hard time with people?’ I mean, if that didn’t sound like a red flag, then what does?

“Oh, really?” Your eyes are wide and thoughtful and he swears he sees a glint of amusement flash through them.

Shit, this would be harder than he thought.

“Well, dating in particular, but that’s because my life is out of wack.” He presses on, but it only comes out worse.

Maybe he should’ve taken that communications class back in high school. It would’ve saved his ass in his interviews and, more importantly, here.

You nod along, folding your arms. “Mhmm.”

It’s both unfair and such a relief that you’re finding his verbal blunders funny.

“Okay, gimme a minute, this is comin’ out all wrong.”

“Take your time,” you smile and your eyes crinkle. “I’ll be here all night.”

But is it possible to soften what he’s about to say? To give you something to chew on rather than a bunch of information to choke on?

Being candid with you is the only fair way to do this. If he isn’t straightforward with you, you could end up getting hurt. Even being with you here at his brother’s restaurant is a risk — he should’ve thought through that decision better too. Not that he visits his brother there in person much, but it’s still not a gamble he likes to make.

Anyway, what’s done is done. He’s just got to tell you.

Atsumu sits up, resting his clenched fists on his thighs and knitting his brows together.

“Listen, I’m not sure how to tell you this…”

You shift in your seat, mouth closed and eyes fixed on his. There’s a tension in your posture, but he tries not to let it deter him.

“But I’m...”

—

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #miya atsumu #atsumu #atsumu x reader #will tag those on the tag list soon!#sorry for any grammatical issues - i'm up late and i can't see well... rly need a beta reader tbh #but i think i weeded out most mistakes?#haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #atsumu scenarios #atsumu imagines #miya twins #osamu miya #hq x reader #untouchable series

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exosmutfactory · 3 years

Text

Six Phases FINALE Pt 1

Originally posted by sefuns

Who knew it nearly took 6 months to win your heart, and 6 phases for Baekhyun to lose his mind.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 P(1) P(2) | Part 4 P(1) P(2) | Part 5 P(1) P(2) | Part 6 P(1) P(2) —– P(3) P(4) —– P(5) P(6) ||| ♬♩♪♩ FINALE P(1)✓ P(2) (also on AFF)

networks — @supermwritersnet @/bbh-net

pairing — Baekhyun x Riley (OC)

word count — 28k+ (Finale part 1 - [19k] & 2 - [9k])

genre — ceo! baekhyun, playboy! baekhyun, strangers to lovers, hurt & comfort (heaven knows they need that comfort), slow burn! kinda

[ contains: angst, fluff, smut ]

A/N: Buckle up, loves. Here comes a long one. ♡ Let’s go! (^-^)

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

⏰🌹Six Phases Tag List: 🌹⏰

@to-all-the-stories-i-love @insta1010 @sorrowinblood @bellamendoza @bbhflrt @weirdoome

I was unable to tag one of you so I’ll DM you from @candyfizzbyun 💗💗💗

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

July is upon us before we know it, bringing forth more of the summer's blazing sunlight and smothering heat. Jenny's birthday is right around the corner, merely 3 days into the hottest month of the year. There's no wonder why she's throwing a party in a venue that has both a beautiful indoors and outdoors setting. The breezy summer-style dress code for the event is a given—and I plan to crash it with my wintry flare.

It's July 3rd, 90 degrees, and I'm strutting down the stone path leading up to the venue in a two piece velvet outfit. The wine color compliments my skin, hugging my body in all the right places. Between the bra-shaped, crop top that ties in the back and my waist-high pants with high slits to reveal my nude colored heels underneath, I feel like the baddest and sexiest woman up in this bitch.

"Riley!" Jenny beams the moment I step through the door, looking stunning in her light blue dress. It's a plain form-fitting dress, but nothing is simple about her wearing it. The light blue material goes well with the ocean hue of her eyes. The sleeveless, spaghetti-strapped fabric that wraps around her beautifully is the shortest dress I've ever seen on her—and Jongdae should feel like the luckiest man alive to see her like this all the time.

Her makeup is done perfectly, highlighting the softness of her round face and sharpening the gaze in her oval eyes. She nearly runs someone over when she comes barreling my way in her black heels with a drink in her hand.

I laugh at her excitement, accepting her hug without hesitation. "Hey, Jen."

"Hey," She smiles, pulling back a little to look at me. "You're early."

A little grin forms on my face; if only she knew. "I didn't want to risk any traffic jams," I explain, smiling more. She's practically buzzing with happiness.

"Ah," She nods, pursing her lips. "Maybe I should have chose a different time-"

"Hey," I place my hand on her shoulder, giving her a look. "Relax. Everything will be fine."

She sighs but nods, her owl-shaped, dangling-earrings sparkling prettily under the warm lights. "I hope no one else gets stuck."

"They won't," I shake my head, adding cheekily, "Especially Chanyeol, he drives like a madman."

"That big oaf," She mutters, a smile back on her face. Her blue eyes meet mine before she takes my hands between hers. "Come, I want to introduce you to someone."

"Oh?" I inquire, raising a brow as she leads me further into the venue. "This isn't one of those matchmaking situations is it?"

"No. Fuck men." She immediately rebukes, fire burning in her eyes. "I'm not dealing with anyone's bullshit. Not on my day."

"Damn straight," I mumble, amused at the disgruntled expression on her face. Jenny and Jongdae are back together—if you can call their last fight a breakup. Witnessing him show up on their doorstep with her favorite chocolate and a new plant to add to their home was a sight to see. He must have done something else for her to react this way though. I can't help but chuckle. Half a year later and he is still tiptoeing around her. That Haneul must be someone significant. My lips downturn at the thought.

"Eunjung! Eunjung!" Jenny's loud voice brings me back to the present. "Ugh, where is that woman?" She grumbles, searching the extravagant room. More partygoers are starting to stream in, filling up the building with every shade of the rainbow and then some. My eyes drift over to the fruit buffet on the long tables in the back when Jenny's eyes widen. "There she is!" She smiles, leading me over to the mini bar on the other side of the room.

I follow her line of sight, my heart dropping in the blink of an eye. It's the same woman I've been seeing around Baekhyun since May. Her once long black hair is now a short brown mohawk, the curly ends perfectly framing her oval shaped face.

"Eunjung, this is Riley." Jenny smiles, gesturing to me. "The wild child I've told you about," She jokes.

"Hello," Eunjung greets in a low voice, smiling warmly. She holds out her hand to me. "I've heard so much about you."

I can only shake her hand and smile back, glaring at Jenny out of the corner of my eye when Eunjung is distracted by the bartender bringing her a drink. "Nice to meet you."

Jenny takes a seat while I survey the room, making sure there aren't any heads of silver hair around. Jongin won't be coming tonight, he's busy preparing dance classes for the elementary students that he'll teach for the upcoming school year, so I keep my head on a swivel. As much as I consider Jenny one of my best friends, her ties with a certain someone cannot be ignored after what happened the last time we went to a party.

"How's Miss Eunae?" Jenny's question catches my attention, pulling me back into their conversation.

"She won second place in a dance competition last month."

"Really?!" Jenny gasps and I stiffen.

"Yeah, I couldn't make it." Eunjung smiles sadly, swirling the melting ice in her drink. "Thankfully her girlfriend could. And Baekhyun too."

"Wait," I interrupt, feeling wary when both their eyes focus on me. "You have a twin?"

"Yes. About my height, long black hair." Eunjung sets down her empty glass on the counter. "You might have seen her around before, that woman can't sit still to save her life."

"She has a girlfriend?"

Eunjung and Jenny share a brief, knowing glance before turning back to me. "Yes." Eunjung smiles.

I clear my throat, avoiding their dancing eyes. "Good for her."

"They've been together since high school." Jenny nudges me, a shit eating grin on her face.

"I'll be surprised if they marry before you and Jongdae though," Eunjung raises her hand to get the bartender's attention again. "Chaeyoung is always working overseas."

My chest vibrates. I pull my phone out of my secret breast pocket, tuning out the rest of their conversation.

Sat, 07/03 - 7:30pm

Heartbreaker 😑💔😄

Y'all ready?

Earth shaker 😝💞😊

Ready as I'll ever be!

Heartbreaker 😑💔😄

Kyungsoo?

Cake master 🤗🍰🙏🏼

You owe me for this shit

♡ ♡ ♡ R ♡ ♡ ♡

I promise to help you bake in his place

…

As long as Dae and Yeol pick up the groceries :')

Cake master 🤗🍰🙏🏼

Chanyeol delivers and Jongdae unpacks

I don't trust his clumsy ass anywhere near my produce

♡ ♡ ♡ R ♡ ♡ ♡

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Heartbreaker 😑💔😄

😂

Earth shaker 😝💞😊

Hey!

♡ ♡ ♡ R ♡ ♡ ♡

Ready guys?

Cake master 🤗🍰🙏🏼

Yes

Heartbreaker 😑💔😄

Yeah

Earth shaker 😝💞😊

Mmhm >:(

♡ ♡ ♡ R ♡ ♡ ♡

Let's go 🤫🎂🚚💨✨🥰

I can't help but chuckle, pocketing my phone. When I look up, Jenny is the only one sitting at the counter. "Hey," I frown, noticing the sad look on her face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," She mumbles.

"Come on," I rest my hand on her arm, trying to catch her eye. "I can't let the birthday girl mope. You can tell me."

A smile quirks at her lips. "I just…" She sighs, turning to me. "I can't believe Jongdae is busy with work today."

"Awe," mimicking her poked out bottom lip, I nudge her softly. "Well, I guess you're just stuck with me—Deal with it."

"Riley!"

I burst out into laughter, back hugging her when she playfully pushes me away. "Hey, don't lose hope, yeah? He might surprise you."

"No he won't," She mumbles, full on pouting now. "He never surprises me."

"Well," Making eye contact with a certain mischievous brunette on the other side of the room, I tap her shoulder. "Maybe that will change today."

Jenny turns her head and gasps, leaping off of her bar stool. "Chanyeol? Kyungsoo? Jongdae?!?!?!?!"

Everyone in the room watches on with smiles on their faces, but Jongdae's is the brightest of all. "Hey, babe," He beams, opening his arms.

Jenny sprints over to him, colliding so hard with his body that she almost sends them both to the floor. But Jongdae takes it all in stride, holding her close while bellowing that signature laugh of his.

Smiling at them, I quickly walk over to help Kyungsoo and Chanyeol roll in the food cart. "Hey guys, everything okay?"

"We made it all in one piece," Kyungsoo mutters, glancing at the tall dome plate cover. "The cake too."

"Three different chocolates?"

"Mmhm."

"Perfectly symmetrical?"

"Yep," Yeol chimes in.

I grin, "She's going to love it."

"She's going to love you, you mean." Chanyeol sets his shining eyes on me. "How did you even know all this?"

I give him a small, secretive smile, "I have my resources." His grin only widens. "Did the gifts come in today?"

Kyungsoo nods, "Right on time."

"The delivery man showed up just as we were packing the cake into the back of the truck," Chanyeol chuckles, nearly tripping over the edge of a carpet. Kyungsoo and I look at him with our respective wide and narrowed eyes.

"Huh," I purse my lips, nodding in approval. "Now that is some high class two-day shipping." They both hum in agreement, Kyungsoo straightening out the table cloth before they begin to set the cake onto the round table.

"You guys good?" I look between them when they succeed in placing it down. Thank god for that; if that cake falls to the floor that's all our necks.

Kyungsoo nods, "Go on." He gives me a look that's hard to identify. "He's coming too."

"Oh," My heart leaps at the thought. Oh. Shit. He's coming. I should have expected as much, but to actually hear it makes it ten times more real... Shit. "I-Imma just…" I point behind me to the backdoor, slowly walking backward. "You know."

They nod, Chanyeol's eyes holding a hint of sadness. "It's okay. We got everything covered."

"Thank you," I breathe, smiling apologetically. Spinning on my heel, I hurry as fast as my high heels allow to the door. With one last glance back to make sure Jenny is okay, I slip out into the summer night.

Music from within the venue spreads out into the backyard, but it's much quieter out here. I survey the area, making sure no one else is around. Not that I am against anyone being outside, I've just had enough social interaction for one evening… and the night has barely begun.

Sighing to myself, I walk further out onto the patio, my lips quirking up at the light blue cushions on the chairs. Jenny planned this event to the Tee, huh? I chuckle, sighing softly.

The deck is a nice light gray shade, contrasting against the black base of the table and lounge chairs. Running my eyes over them, I hum, choosing to lean against the table instead.

Pain buds in my chest when my thoughts wander. I shouldn't care—I really shouldn't but… Even after everything. Even after all this time, it hurts to think of him with anyone else. The thought of him holding someone in his arms, in his home, in his heart… It crushes me to the core. It eats me up on the inside. It keeps me up at night.

I shouldn't care, yet every time I hear his name, every time I see his face... I go back to that January night, and I regret it every single time.

No matter how hard I try, my head is constantly full of 'what ifs.' What if I stayed? What if he was willing to change? What would we be right now if I hadn't walked away?

I love—I loved Baekhyun with all my heart…

Can I really move on from this? Will I ever wake up one day and not imagine his sleeping face next to mine?

He could still have someone already for all I know, but for tonight… I rather tell myself that he is alone.

Leaning my elbows on the patio table, I watch the sunset, admiring the pink and orange hues streaking across the blue sky.

"You're staring."

"I love admiring art."

"So I'm an object now?"

The unmistakable love in his sparkly brown eyes… "You are the source," He pauses, holding my heart in his warm smile, "Of my love and affection."

My heart squeezes in earnest. God… why does this hurt so much? Why do his words linger in my mind and actions take hold of my heart? When will it end? When will it fucking end—

"Miss?" A low, raspy voice startles me.

I spin around, staring at the culprit with narrowed eyes. They widen as I take in the man in front of me.

The first thing I notice is his sharp jawline, leading up to his thin lips that curl up at the ends, reminding me a little of Jongdae. My eyes trail up further, taking in his tall nose with a rounded tip, his prominent cheekbones and narrow eyebrows. His slicked back, brown hair shows his broad forehead, and then—

His eyes…

They are the darkest shade of brown that I've ever seen, their almond shape perfectly suiting the rest of his face. They appear black in the dim light of the setting sun. Looking into them has me feeling many things, wondering what story those dark pools of molten hot coffee hold.

"Are you alright?" He asks, his low voice in a husky tone that I'm slowly getting used to hearing… until I feel the drop that lands on my cheek.

"Oh—yeah!" I inwardly curse, hastily rubbing the tear from my cheek. "I-It's just, you know... allergies."

He nods and I cringe on the inside because I know he can tell that I'm completely bullshitting him right now. "What are you doing out here?" He inquires, tilting his head. His tone of voice isn't judging or hostile, it's more… caring. And sweet. I wish I could read his eyes though...

"Needed a breather," I shrug, repositioning myself in a more attractive manner. I am not about to let some stranger see me hanging out back here like a socially awkward potato on top of everything else—I refuse. "You?"

"Business call," He murmurs distractedly, repocketing his vibrating phone.

"Oh," I inwardly roll my eyes. Right. As if I don't have enough business men in my life.

"The Tech team found a corrupted file," He sighs, checking his expensive gold watch. "They don't know how bad it is yet… The film might have to be delayed."

Film? I perk up at that. "You help film movies?"

He smiles, glancing up at me, a lock of hair falling over his eye. "I'm the director."

A very casual one at that; I note, taking in his outfit. He's decked out in a light blue denim jacket and a white t-shirt, but I know those aren't cheap. Nope, I've seen enough of Baekhyun's cotton shirts to—

"What's the theme?" I blurt out, curling my hand into a fist as I lean further back on the table. "Classified information?" I raise a brow, smirking at his speechless face.

"Aish…" He closes his mouth, smiling a little. "Something like that."

"Eh," I shrug, smiling softly. "I can respect that."

The temperature suddenly starts to drop. A chilly wind blows, ruffling the ends of his hair. The scent of something I haven't encountered before reaches my nose. Bourbon and vanilla; citrus and peach... It's hard to describe, but it creates an aroma that catches my attention.

"What's your name?" I tilt my head, my eyes widening at the sparkle that reflects in his dark eyes from the last rays of the setting sun.

His eyes widen before he points to himself. "Me?"

"Who else, silly?" I laugh, holding back a snort, a smile tugging at my lips at the sheepish look on his face. He's pretty cute, I'll give him that.

He clears his throat, looking away. "Jackson."

I fight back my smile seeing how flustered he is. "I'm Riley." A thought occurs to me for a moment… What is a business man—director doing here? This is an invitation-only event, and I helped Jenny painstakingly arrange the guest list... "How do you know Jenny?"

"Hmm?" Jackson blinks, flickering his eyes back to mine. "Oh!" He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. "She's an old friend."

"Oh," My eyes narrow in the last rays of sunlight.

"We kept in contact after her and Yugyeom split," He explains, and the apologetic expression on his face has my eyes widening again. Did he just see through me? Uh—Wait.

"Oh my god, Yugyeom?—Kim Yugyeom?"

"Yes…" He trails off, looking me over carefully. "Do you know him?"

Do I know him? My reddening cheeks are enough of an explanation. "Not really," I laugh awkwardly, standing up fully. Alright, I've had enough human interaction for today. Between him, the discovery of Eunjung's twin not seeing Baekhyun, meeting someone who is friends with that tall guy I was drooling over months ago, and having to keep Jenny's birthday surprise a secret all week, I'm drained. Time to go—

A crack of thunder echoes across the sky, and then the bottom drops, rain drenching us in seconds.

Well shit… Did none of us check the weather for today? I rack my brain for answers, trying to remember—oh... Oh. Jenny… likes… thunderstorms…

The rain continues to pour, soaking my velvet outfit and flattening my hair without remorse. It won't melt me, but the venue is a city away from Seoul and if I don't hurry home now...

"Well!" I turn away to hide the bitter smile on my face, pushing off of the slippery table. "Time for me to go. Nice meeting you, Jackson."

"Wait-"

I puff up my cheeks, blowing the air out as my hair sticks messily to my forehead. Fighting the urge to brush it back is difficult, but if there's one thing I know about my hair when it's wet, it's the agony that comes with ruffling it up. I rather not cry while detangling it when it's air dried later—

A yank on my arm makes me yelp, my head slamming into something hard when thunder cracks across the sky again, followed by the horrifying crackle of lightning. My head snaps up, eyes squinting against the onslaught of rain. I can barely make out Jackson's face, his features twisted in concern with his hair mattered to his forehead like a mop. The sheer amount of fear in his wide eyes has me more than confused. I take a look around, my heart stopping right in its tracks.

The doorknob of the back door sizzles, steam floating from it in a cloud of smoke. The crack from a lightning bolt visible as the rain washes the spark away.

My face pales when I look back up at the man in front of me.

Jackson steps back, steading me with his hands on my arms when my knees buckle. "Sorry," He clears his throat. "I tried to warn you but-"

"Thank you," I mumble, moving away when I find my balance again. "That could have been…" My head spins at the thought, "Bad."

He nods with a concerned frown, worry written all over his handsome features.

"...Well!" I clear my throat, giving him a small smile. "Thanks again for saving me, stranger." I joke, my eyes shooting down when I feel something rough shielding my shoulders from the rain. "Oh-" They snap back up to meet his, "You don't have to-"

"Keep it." He shakes his head, placing his denim jacket fully on my shoulders. "You're shivering."

"I…" My face is so hot the rain does nothing to cool me down. "Thank you."

Jackson smiles, shoving his hands into his pockets. "No problem." He starts walking backwards, glancing up at the sky before propping open the back door with his leather boot.

"Wait!" I blurt, blushing all the way up to my ears when he looks back at me, having to raise my voice over the unmerciful wind. "H-How will I return it without your number?"

A shy yet boyish grin forms on his face. "Not here."

"Huh?" I blink.

Jackson smiles even more, holding the door open before giving a little bow and outstretching his hand to me. "Ladies first."

A dozen thoughts race through my head while looking at his waiting hand, the action so familiar my heart tugs painfully in my chest. Smiling my prettiest smile, I place my palm in his.

•••

I forgot how refreshing it is to talk to someone new. Stepping out of my comfort zone to get to know a person outside of my friend group—an attractive person at that.

Texting Jackson is a treat. He's a man of high intellect, giving me great advice with years of director experience under his belt. The most shocking thing is that he is only 24—24! Two years older than me. He breaks my dating rule of pursuing anyone less than 4 years older than me, but his maturity makes up for it. Age doesn't define maturity as I have come to realize after a certain someone.

He's super sweet too. We haven't been able to see each other in person since Jenny's party last month, but a day hasn't gone by where we haven't texted. And boy does he text—the most flustering things that is. Jackson has a way with words that makes my heart squeeze in giddiness and me hide behind my hand while peeking at my screen.

He laughs at all of my jokes; he sends good morning and goodnight texts without fail. If nothing else, he is a great conversationalist who would make an even better companion, and I can't wait to see him again. I have a denim jacket hanging up in my closet to return, after all.

A knock on my office door brings me back to the present. I blink a few times, carefully reading over the email I've been working on for the past 20 minutes. "Come in," I permit, glancing at the time. The sight that greets me on the other side of the door when it opens stops my typing in its tracks.

Ms. Kim Eun, the newly appointed book editor, steps into the room, setting off my internal warning signals. Her outfit matches the company dress code, that isn't the problem here. No, it's the sheer amount of dread, sorrow, and fear coming off of her shuffling body in waves. "You asked to see me, Ma'am?" She inquires in the most broken of tones. A fragility I know very well.

"Yes." Saving my progress on the computer, I beckon her over with a reassuring smile. "Please, have a seat."

She slowly walks further into the room, sitting down in one of the leather chairs.

"Ms. Kim," I start as tentatively and professionally as possible, lacing my fingers together on top of my desk. "It has come to my attention that you have been behind on editing the book."

"Oh..." She mumbles, fidgeting with the purse in her lap. "I-I'm sorry, I-"

"I understand you might have other obligations and factors outside of work," I continue, reading her steadily panicking face like a book, "But we don't have a lot of time to get this novel done. We're on a tight schedule here."

"C-Can…" Her eyes lift from the purse in her hands, still holding onto it for dear life. "Can you do it for me?" She whispers.

I let out a short laugh. "No." Her eyes shake as my face hardens. "You were appointed as editor 3 weeks ago, correct?"

She nods, fear glimmering in her wide eyes.

"Your job is to edit the book," I remind her, my lips pressed into a thin line. "That's what you get paid for, that's your responsibility."

"But-"

"If I could do it myself, I wouldn't need to hire you." Her bottom lip starts to tremble; she's about to break. "If you can't do the job, I'm going to need you to put in your 2 weeks," I slide the slip of paper across the desk, "In early. Unless you can get half of the book done by Friday."

"T-That's only 3 days," She gasps, her voice wavering. "I can't-"

"You've had nearly a month in advance to work on it as an Intern." My voice lowers, "I'm sure you have plenty of time to catch up in-"

"I can't!" She wails loudly, hiding her face in her hands. "I-I'm not qualified for this position. I'm just a high school graduate with inside connections." She sobs, the dam of her built up emotions spilling over. "I didn't even finish English 12 with an A."

My clenched jaw ticks. I know she isn't faking it; she's been off for the past two weeks. It's her lack of sharing this important information that is getting to me. If she isn't qualified to take over the editing position, why the hell is she—my eyes widen and then narrow. Mrs. Park.

Looking at Eun, I finally understand. Her bowed head, slouched shoulders, and quiet hiccups dawning on me as clear as day.

"My boyfriend c-cheated on me with my best friend." She croaks sorrowfully. "He said that I deserved it, t-that I made him do it from working late all the time." She runs a hand through her hair, laughing brokenly, her tears leaving a trail of inky black mascara in their wake. "My editing isn't good anyway."

Reaching across the desk, I offer her my box of tissues. "I know how you feel," I mutter, keeping my voice even. "You feel lost, broken and tossed aside as if a part of you is gone." She nods, sniffling while smearing the makeup under her eye. "You ask yourself how you will ever move on from it." Leaving the box on the edge of the desk, I meet her eyes again. "But you will move on." The conversation I had with Jongin in the studio that day comes to mind, quirking a small smile on my lips. "You will wake up one day and not think of them. As long as you want to. You shouldn't stay stuck on someone who has hurt you."

Tucking the resignation document into a drawer, I turn my sleeping computer back on. "You are worth more than how they've treated you, but you have to decide that for yourself."

"O-Okay," Eun sniffles, wiping her face. A couple tissues fall out of her hand, but her tears have stopped.

"Good." I lean back into my rollable leather chair with a stretch, smiling softly. "Let's settle this. Make me a list of your strengths and weaknesses."

Her wide eyes snap back up to mine. "I-"

"Now."

"Damn, Kyungsoo, how many of these cakes do you need in a day?" I sigh, my hands cramping up. We've been at it for hours, baking desserts at his restaurant because today is a national holiday. Funny how he let all his workers take the day off and here I am handling enough flour to make me sneeze in Jongdae's place.

Kyungsoo doesn't even look up at me, continuing to knead the dough in his hands. "I'd give an estimate but I don't want to overwhelm you."

I'd dramatically flop down into a chair if I wasn't molding a ball of my own dough, so I just groan instead. "You're killing me over here."

"Who offered to help me bake in Jongdae's place?" He raises a brow, shaping the churro in his hands with precession.

"It was all for the good of Jenny's last minute birthday cake!" I whine, starting to place a hand over my heart until I remember the torment I went through last time I got cake batter on this floral shirt. "Have you no heart?" I pout, giving him puppy eyes.

Kyungsoo slowly raises his head and I quickly get back to shaping the fancy doughnut in my hands without a word.

"So," I clear my throat, smiling sheepishly. "Did Dae and Yeol deliver everything okay?"

"They were late." Kyungsoo neatly arranges his perfectly shaped churros onto a tray, sliding them into the preheated oven. "Any later and the milk would have gone bad."

"Yikes," I wince, reaching to rub the back of my head only to pause mid-way, stopped by the wet flour sticking to my hand. "I should have helped more."

"Chanyeol would have slowed down to not give you motion sickness and then the cheese would have gone bad too." He points out.

"You sound a bit grumpy today," I note softly, glancing over at him again. "Did Chanyeol do something?" Kyungsoo starts another row of churros, staring blankly at me as he almost crushes the long sticks in his hands. "Okay, okay! I'll drop it, no need for the third degree. Spare the churro's life, please..."

"I'm going to ban him from my restaurant, I swear." He grumbles under his breath.

"At least he offered to help," I mumble, setting the last doughnut onto the non-stick pan. "How many more you got for me?" I ask, dusting off my hands.

Kyungsoo comes over to take the tray off of the counter. "None."

I raise a brow. "That's it?"

"No," He slides it in with the baking churros. "I'm sending you home."

I frown, "Why?"

"You're loud, chatty and keep dripping flour all over my floor." He deadpans. "And you're falling asleep."

Gawking at him for a few moments all I can do is huff. "I am not-"

"You're gonna get cake batter in your hair."

I flinch, putting my hand down at once. "Are you really kicking me out right now?" I mumble, blowing annoying strands of hair out of my eyes.

"You're fired." He wipes his clean hands with a towel and walks back over to turn on the sink for me. "Now go home and sleep."

"I don't even work here!"

He gives me a look.

"Alright, alright," I mutter, scrubbing flour from under my nails. "Fine. I'll be out of your hair-"

The chime on the door of the restaurant rings, capturing my attention. I crane my neck around to see who the hell is coming in here when there's obviously a "CLOSED" sign out front and it's freaking 9pm. My face pales at the black baseball cap and leather jacket figure stumbling through the door. I tug on the sleeve of the busy man next to me. Um, Kyungsoo-

They pull their hat off before they reach the middle of the restaurant, revealing a familiar flushed face and unmistakable silver hair.

Oh fuck no.

"I'm sorry I'm late, Kyungsoo," He mumbles, his head down while approaching the counter. "I got held up at the office and the traffic was-" His head snaps up just as I contemplate ducking out of view. "R-Riley…?" He whispers, his face paling. He looks like he's seen a ghost and I can't imagine I'm doing any better.

"You're late." Kyungsoo deadpans, busying himself with washing the used baking trays and utensils in the sink.

"I…" Baekhyun steps closer and I feel like I'm going to throw up. My heart isn't in my throat at this point, it's somewhere lost between my nose and my gag reflex.

"Have you been drinking?" Kyungsoo finally looks up from the spatula in his hands, his eyes narrowing at the lack of response.

Baekhyun's red face glows brighter under the harsh kitchen lights. He purses his lips, "No-"

"Where's your car?" Kyungsoo demands. "I'm not letting you drive."

"Kyungsoo, I'm fine," He rolls back on the heels of his feet, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. "You have an important client coming in tomorrow-"

"I don't care who the hell is coming tomorrow." Kyungsoo cuts him off, full-on glaring at him now. His normally calm voice growing deeper with anger by the second. "I'm not letting you drive-"

"I'll take him home," I mumble, shrinking in on myself when both their eyes snap over to me.

Kyungsoo frowns, "Riley-"

"I'm taking him home, Kyungsoo." I cross my arms, shaking my head at the disapproving expression on his stern face. "You have a huge event tomorrow, you sent your staff home, and your kitchen is covered in cake batter," I list off of my fingers, daring him to say another word. "His apartment is on the whole other side of town. I think we both know what's the best course of action here."

Kyungsoo stands there silently for a long moment, but I don't back down, merely arching a brow. "Are you sure you'll be alright?" He softens, not even acknowledging the other man in the room.

"Yeah." I smile, uncrossing my arms. "I know I'm a disaster with a knife but I know how to drive, Kyungsoo. You got to give me some credit here."

"Alright," He chuckles, smiling a little before shifting his eyes back to the man on the other side of the counter. "Don't cause her any trouble, you hear me?"

Baekhyun's dazed eyes widen, "I-"

"If you mess with a single hair on her head," Kyungsoo continues, lifting the butcher knife in his hands. "Say goodbye to your kids."

"I-I won't fucking!" Baekhyun tangles a hand in his messy hair, sucking in a deep breath. "I'm walking home."

"Oh no you aren't," I rebuke, rounding the counter.

He grits his teeth, spinning around on his heel, "I'm-"

"Yah, Baekhyun." Kyungsoo's deep voice cuts through the air.

Baekhyun freezes up, looking over his shoulder with wide eyes. "Y-Yes?-"

"Take this." Kyungsoo starts, slamming a couple bags full of food to his chest. "Shut the fuck up and let Riley take you home."

"I-" Baekhyun shakes his head, "I can still catch the bus. There's no need-" His face drains of color when he meets Kyungsoo's eyes again. If looks could kill, he'd be 6 feet under.

Kyungsoo turns back to me then, "If he gives you a hard time, call me, okay?"

"Yes, Kyungsoo," I immediately agree, fearful of his sour mood as well. Note to self: angry Kyungsoo is scarier than angry Jongin.

"Good," He grumbles but smiles, patting my arm before walking back to the kitchen. "I'll save some of the churros for you."

"Thank you!" I beam at him, waving until he walks into the backroom. My smile doesn't fade, my cheeks starting to hurt until I feel a certain someone's stare on the back of my head. Oh shit.

Slowly turning around, I drag my eyes up to look into the most beautiful puppy eyes in the world, my heart going into overdrive.

"Hey," Baekhyun whispers.

A sad smile quirks on my lips, "Hi." Sighing a little, I take a look around, hanging up my apron and retrieving my hidden purse from the back of a chair at one of the extravagant dining tables. "Let's go."

Baekhyun nods, following me out of the restaurant. I open the door and hold it for him until he reaches the doorstep. We may not be on good terms, but that doesn't mean I'll just let a door slam in his face.

…

I most definitely should have let that door slam in his face.

Shaking off my aggressive thoughts, I take a deep breath and power walk to my car, shivering in the cold wind. It's the middle of July and a tropical storm has blown in, bringing its cold rains and chilling nights with it. Trust Seoul to have these extreme temperature changes, I should have kept my ass back in the South.

Baekhyun doesn't say a word as we make it to my red Porsche. I unlock the car when we are a few feet away, rolling my keys around my fingers. "Hop in, Byun."

He climbs into the passenger seat and by now the silence is killing me, but I shove it down. I'm here to drive him home and that's it. No more, no less.

Sighing inwardly, I settle into the driver's seat. "Buckle up," I mutter, looking at him out of the corner of my eye. "You may be more likely to survive a car crash in your drunken stupor but I sure as hell am not getting a fine for your ass."

I swear I hear him mutter, "of course," under his breath.

"What was that?" I pointedly widen my eyes, looking directly at him.

"Nothing." He grumbles, keeping his eyes facing forward.

"I thought so," Making sure he's strapped securely and checking my rearview mirror, I stick the key into the ignition and pull out of the parking lot.

Driving to Baekhyun's apartment feels so surreal, for many reasons. Never in our relation—our previous relationship have I driven him anywhere. I never dared to get behind the wheel of his Audi, that car is too expensive. If I had wrecked it and looked at the cost to fix or replace it, combined with the look of pure rage that would be on his face from me crashing his baby, I would die. Bad blood or not, I rather not be on Baekhyun's bad side.

My heartbeat picks up the longer the car ride goes on. Fuck, it's getting harder to breathe. I literally have the biggest problem to ever walk into my life right next to me months after I swore to never speak to him again. Why did I agree to this? What was I thinking?

No. No time for that, I'm going to drop him off at his apartment and continue moving on with my life. That's why I left him in the first place.

"...Riley?" He speaks up a few streets away from his house, his voice the softest I've heard in a while.

Nope. Don't engage. I tighten my grip on the steering wheel.

"Can… Can we talk?" He continues, sounding sadder by the minute. "Please?"

"We're ten minutes away, Baekhyun."

"I…" The bags rustle in his lap as he sighs. "I knew this would happen."

"What?" I glance sharply at him at the next red light.

Baekhyun looks down at his hands with the most pitiful expression on his face, tears building in the corners of his eyes under the bright city lights. "I knew you would hate me."

Oh my fucking—My heart squeezes painfully in my chest. I want to roll my eyes and launch myself out of the car window at the same time. "Stop bringing it up, Byun." I mutter, focusing back on the road. "It's a thing of the past. Let it die there."

"Yeah," He laughs, his voice raw with emotion. "Like my heart the night you left me."

I clench my jaw, taking a deep breath, inwardly cursing the hectic late night traffic. Come on, fuckers, I need this man out of my car asap.

"You don't even want to talk to me about it." He continues, growing more frustrated and louder by the minute. "You don't even want to see me-"

"Of course I don't, Baekhyun!" I snap, whipping my head around to face him. "After all the shit you've done I have every right to not speak to your smug fucking face again."

"Smug?" He laughs weakly. "You think I enjoyed what happened to us?"

"Yep," I chirp, gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turn pale. "There's no other explanation for why you are in my car right now."

"You insisted for me to be here." He fires right back. "You break up with me, hang out with all my friends, then act like a cold hearted bitch every time you see me."

"It takes one to know one, Baekhyun." I jab right back, curling my upper lip in a cruel smile.

"Yeah," He scoffs, crossing his arms and facing the window. "I'm sure you know that very well."

"If you're going to be a whiny little bitch," I start, smiling widely at him, "I will put you out on your ass, Baekhyun."

"Wouldn't you love that," He laughs, anger coming off of him in waves. "You were always obsessed with my ass."

That's it.

Baekhyun yelps when I slam on the breaks, bracing his hands on the dashboard. "Riley, what the hell?!"

"You wanted to talk?" I make sure the curb of the street I pulled onto is clear before facing him with a grin. "Huh? You want to talk now?" Baekhyun shrinks further into the passenger seat when I lean over him. "Fucking say it to my face then, you bastard." I snarl. "Go on. Give your little practiced speech."

Baekhyun parts his lips a few times, making my rage raise even more—"I miss you." He mumbles sadly.

I blink, staring at him. "...What?" I chuckle, growing wary as he keeps giving me those kicked puppy dog eyes. "What the fuck are you on about, Baekhyun-"

"I miss you." He repeats. "I miss your voice, I miss your eyes, I miss waking up to your sleeping face next to mine." He takes a shaky breath, tears filling his eyes. "I miss your strawberry scent on our pillows. I miss your loving words. I miss you complaining about my random ramblings and shutting me up with a kiss… I miss everything about you." He drags his eyes back up to mine then. "I miss you so much I wake up every day and fall apart when I remember that you aren't there."

Sucking in a breath, I look away from him, my anger long forgotten. I… I don't know what to say. "You…" A lump forms in my throat. I have to bite the inside of my cheek to restrain my wobbling chin.

Baekhyun keeps his eyes on me, pleading with me with their sad, brown depths. He doesn't expect the slap I land on his pretty face.

"You fucking bastard," I mutter lowly, shaking in anger, the last of my sanity flying out of the window. "You don't get to come in here and say all this fucking bullshit when you couldn't even tell your fucking mother that you were dating me!" I scream, my vocal chords pulling harder than my heart strings. "You were dating me, living with me, loving me, fucking me-" I laugh, throwing my hand out to show off the car. "For a whole year. Then you come here with your pretty, pitiful little empty words and expect me to forgive you? Really? You really think so little of me?"

"Ri-"

"Did you not get it the first time?" I ask in the sweetest of tones, my Southern accent out on full display. "Huh? You told your dear mother about us then suddenly come running back after me? Did having her approval feel that good little puppy?"

Baekhyun's face burns a dozen different shades of red, but I'm not fucking done yet.

"Here comes the man who was so overcome with jealousy over my best friend that he pretended to fuck another whore at his party," I list off on my fingers, my voice growing louder with every word I fire at him."Here goes the man who accused me of fucking Jongin because I wanted to be left alone at a mother fucking party. Here sits the man—who had the audacity to cheat on me not once, but twice!" My lips curl up into the ugliest sneer, glaring at Baekhyun hard enough to kill. "And here lies the cowardly man who will lie like a pig in mud for the rest of eternity as far as I am concerned."

I'm huffing and puffing by the time I'm done, not even waiting for him to say anything before starting back up again. "You know I never and would never have cheated on you, right?" I ask, lowering the volume of my voice. "If I didn't want to be faithful to you, Baekhyun, I would have been with someone else. I don't pull stunts to be petty and shit. If you didn't know that about me now, you're a fucking idiot, and if you don't believe me, then I don't know what to tell you." I shrug, leaning back tiredly into my seat and keeping my eyes forward on the empty road ahead.

"I get that," He says quietly.

A chuckle bubbles in my aching chest. "Do you?" I raise a brow, trying to calm down. "Do you understand how stupid it is to cheat on someone just because you're feeling petty or uncomfortable in a situation-"

"I never cheated on you."

"Ha!" I bark out a laugh. "And I don't have 4C hair." Rolling my eyes, I throw my hands up. "What? So that model at the photoshoot and the lipstick stain on the collar of your shirt wasn't you cheating? Are you serious?"

"Yes."

"Really? You really are going to deny-"

"Melody tripped over a sewage drain and that model forced herself onto me." He states firmly. "Neither was consensual or intentional."

Both my brows raise. "Huh. You know, it's real funny how you have an explanation for that now." I roll down my window to cool off, leaning my elbow onto the window seal and my chin in my palm before turning to him again. "Where was this energy months ago?"

Baekhyun nods. "You're right. I am a coward," He admits, stopping me dead in my tracks. "Dumb enough to not say anything and dumb enough to think that you'd figure it out because I…" He trails off, biting his lips before those teary brown eyes lock onto mine again. Taking my breath away with the endless storm of emotions swirling within them. "With you, I'm like an open book. You always saw right through me, so I thought… I thought I didn't have to say anything," His head drops, looking down at the neat bags sitting at his feet. "And when I did, it was too late."

My eyes narrow. "How do I know you aren't bullshtting me?"

"I have nothing left to lose," He shrugs, smiling sadly.

Anger flares up in me again. "What is that supposed to mean-"

"I already lost you."

My mouth snaps shut, a feeling I haven't felt in months squeezing my heart in earnest.

"Everything you said was true," He mumbles. "All of it. The secrets, the lies-"

"And what makes you say that?"

His ears burn brighter than the red handprint on his cheek. "I'm seeing a therapist."

"Oh—Shit..." A wave of white hot shame falls over me. "Baekhyun, I-I'm sorry-"

"No." He shakes his head before bending down, the paper bags rustling in his grasp. "Don't. You said nothing but the truth."

"That still doesn't make it okay…" I rub the back of my neck, cursing myself inwardly for my anger. I hadn't meant to go off on him, that wasn't my intention—

"It's only fair," He mutters, shrugging weakly. "I've said worse to you."

"I…" I can't help but sigh, at a loss for words. "...I'm proud of you, seeing a therapist takes a lot of courage and self awareness."

"Thank you."

"I'm glad you're doing okay," I mumble.

Baekhyun stiffens up. Suddenly the atmosphere in the car shifts into something more melancholic.

"B-Baek?"

He lifts up his head, revealing his tear-stained face to me. "You think so?"

My heart clenches in anguish. "Baekhyun-"

"After everything you…" His voice breaks. "You think I'm fine? You think I'm okay?" Tears dampen the long strands of silver hair dangling in his eyes. "I haven't slept. I haven't eaten. I haven't breathed—I haven't lived since the day you left." He croaks, sucking in a breath. "So if you think that I am okay, I am not."

I have nothing else to say after that. What can I even say...?

Feeling tears form in my own eyes, I turn the car back on. My mom always taught me that if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say nothing at all. And after I slapped him and said all of those things…

I pull off of the curb, hiding my tears away from him. There's nothing I can do but take him home and hope that in the distant future… In a brand new life… He can forgive me for everything I've done to him and move on too.

The rest of the ride is spent in silence. No radio. No cars zooming past. The only thing I hear is his quiet sniffles and the cry of my wheezing heart.

"Thanks for taking me home," He mumbles in the softest of tones, mumbling more to his scuffed up sneakers than to me.

"No problem," I say softly, reaching out to place my hand on his shoulder only to pause, gripping the steering wheel again. "Make sure to take some Advil from the third cabinet on the right, okay?"

Baekhyun nods, hiding under the strands of his messy hair. He scares the hell out of me when his head suddenly shoots up again.

"Baek…?" I whisper, not sure what to do as he starts leaning in. He reveals his face to me up close for the first time in months. Heart-wrenching features that I know so well. The droopy shape of his brown eyes, the soft slope of his button nose, the cute little mole on top of his soft pink, thin lips that are pursed in concentration. For what? I have no idea. "Baekhyun-"

He slams his hand down on the dashboard, making me flinch. "Spider," He mutters, opening his hand to reveal its creepy squished body. I shiver at the sight. "I don't want you getting into a wreck. I know how you hate-" He sighs loudly, shaking his head. "Never mind…"

Yeah… I gulp, forcing a smile. Never mind.

"Travel safely, okay?" He takes his bags of food and steps out of the car, moving to close the door only to pause, meeting my eyes from under the bright city lights. "Goodnight, Riley."

It takes everything in me not to break down right there and then. "Good-" My lips wobble. I clear my throat, brushing my hair back before daring to look into his dull brown eyes again. "Goodnight, Baekhyun."

He smiles so small and sadly, making my heart weep when he closes the door and walks off to enter his apartment building.

I sit there for a few moments, staring out at the busy street ahead. It's so funny… This empty feeling in my chest. It's… It's like I never left…

•••

It's unfair… how much your heart hurts when you're stuck on someone. Realizing that no matter how many times they've hurt you, your broken heart still beats for them… and only them.

No matter how hard I try to deny it, the heart doesn't lie…

Baekhyun… is still a part of me. His scent may have faded, his t-shirts and hoodies are cleared out from my room… but the memory of him lives on in my heart. And I can't get rid of him without breaking myself completely and reforming a "perfect mold" to fit myself in.

Ha… funny how that works. 7 months of moving on has led up to this. Nothing. 7 months, 12 months, or 30 years, Baekhyun's scent can wash off of my skin, but the rest of the world won't let me break the two of us apart. If I am my brain, he is my heart. And you can't live without that muscle pumping steadily in your aching chest.

It's so unfair… because I'm trying my hardest to move on with someone else.

It takes me forever to get ready for my date tonight, and when I do… Something tells me to cancel it. But I can't. Jackson will be busy for the next month and a half. This is the only time in his schedule where he can take me out on the "proper date" as he likes to call it. Which he doesn't have to, I'm not that hard to please. I mean for fuck sake, I haven't had an official date until I was 20.

I'm not picky about these things, but I ended up agreeing in the end anyway. The sad puppy look on Jackson's face when I tried to decline going to a restaurant to just stay in and watch movies instead still haunts me. Those almond shaped, dark brown puppy eyes… Damn him.

Sighing softly, I carefully apply my eyeliner in my vanity mirror, checking over my appearance one last time and smiling at the result. My lips are the richest shade of red, dark brown, waist-length hair curled to perfection, and the crystal earrings I haven't worn in ages sparkle every time they catch the light. Perfect for my chosen dress for the night.

It's a little something that I've bought recently. A spaghetti strapped, black velvet piece with a cowl shaped neck that shows off a bit of my cleavage, form-fitting all the way down to the V shaped end of the dress. It ends high on my thigh, but I have no plans to go dancing tonight, (for Jackson's sake). It's just enough to make him a little hot under his expensive collar. Especially with the lace strings crisscrossed in the back that are the only thing holding the dress up.

A low buzz makes me jump, startling me out of my thoughts. I fish for my phone in the vibrating purse in my lap. I haven't taken it out since last night… The weight of Baekhyun's unblocked number in my phone is a heavy load... and I only have myself to blame.

My eyes widen at the caller ID on the screen: Him. And I know exactly who he is.

Biting my nails, I weigh my options: answer now and end up canceling my plans or call him back tomorrow...

…

Would it really be that bad to cancel? No—I can't. Jackson thinks I'm a punctual woman and…

"Always so sweet for me," He murmurs lowly, painting my skin with the shape of his lips.

My breath hitches, mouth going dry as more memories dance in my mind. Skin on skin, hushed whispers, champagne painted breaths...

"Mmm you're so wet," He groans, grazing my clit with his teeth. "Making a mess all over me."

A knock on my door makes me pause, staring down at the buzzing phone in my hand.

7 months without Baekhyun… and it has resorted to this.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck—Fuck!

I power down the phone, toss it back into my bag, pull it onto my shoulder and launch myself out of my chair to open the door before I lose my nerve. The sight that greets me on the other side of the door makes my heart flutter, but…

"Hey," Jackson smiles softly, his dark brown eyes sparkling under the bright lights.

It doesn't take my breath away.

"Hi," I manage a smile, tucking my hair behind my ear.

"You look beautiful," He compliments, his eyes sparkling even more as he looks over my dress before meeting my eyes again.

My smile grows, warmth spreading over my cheeks. "Thank you," I mutter softly, laughing a little. "You're not too bad yourself."

He smiles again, gesturing to me, the shine of his thin gold bracelet reflecting the hallway lights. "May I?"

"Hmm?—Oh!" I gasp, noticing the red and black corsage in his hands. "Y-Yes," I smile shyly, my heart pounding when he holds out his hand to me.

Jackson gently takes my hand, carefully slipping the corsage around my wrist. The caress of his rough fingertips makes a shiver go down my spine, goosebumps left on my skin when he pulls away.

His outfit catches my attention. Normally I'd feel a little shameless for looking at him from head to toe, but after what happened earlier… I can use a distraction.

He's wearing a black blazer with a matching lace turtleneck shirt underneath that gives me a glimpse of his toned skin, making my breath hitch. A golden necklace with a pendant rests in the middle of his chest, making him look so attractive when it twinkles under the lights. And with the way his shirt is tucked into his stylish black jeans… Fuck me ten times over.

My eyes trail further down his body. He has on that expensive gold watch I saw the first time we met and elegant rings on his veiny hands. I forget to breathe remembering how it felt to be held in his strong arms...

Snapping out of my daze, my wide eyes dart back up to his, finding the sweetest of shy smiles on his lips and a pink hue to his cheeks. He just caught me checking him out and he's blushing. Adorable. Clearing my throat, I smile, feeling my own face heat up under his admiring gaze. "Not bad at all."

His soft chuckle makes me feel less embarrassed. Maybe he can tell that I'm nervous… but not what has me so nervous.

Baekhyun's tear-stained face has been haunting me all day and I barely managed to get any sleep last night. His small voice replays in my head and soft spoken words cover my skin. My face heats up and pales at the same time at the reminder of what I was thinking about not even 10 minutes ago. I had a memory of him going down on me for Christ sake! Looking up at Jackson's handsome face, I feel another wave of hot shame. Can the ground please open up and swallow me whole?

"Shall we?" Jackson asks, bring my attention back to him. He offers his elbow to me, waiting for me to lock my arm with his. Another smile forms on my face; I have to suppress a giggle bubbling in my chest. He's so sweet and gentle compared to all the other men in my life. Ugh, my poor heart is racing like crazy.

I lock the door behind me and wrap my arm around his, appreciating the firmness of his bicep as he leads us down the hallway. The taps of our respective shoes echo around the quiet hall while we wait a few minutes for the elevator to arrive. "I'm not taking too much of your time, am I?" I mumble, watching the floor numbers rise to avoid his gaze.

"Hmm?" Jackson hums, his alluring cologne hitting me when he turns his head to look at me.

"Your schedule," I elaborate, glancing at him from under my eyelashes. "I'm not infringing on your work time, am I?"

"No," He shakes his head, holding the metal doors open for me while I walk into the elevator.

"But you said you are in the middle of the most important part of filming and-" I stop, my eyes widening at the warmth on my cheeks.

"Riley." Jackson looks right into my eyes, his rough palms cradling my face. "You are not 'taking too much' of my time, alright?" He mumbles, brown eyes drifting over my features while his thumb swipes over the top of my cheek, leaving a blaze of gentle heat in its wake. "This night is for us."

My heart practically leaps out of my chest the longer I stare into his warm eyes. I break eye contact. "O-Okay," I whisper, smiling shyly.

Jackson smiles, taking my hand when the elevator doors open onto the ground floor. As we walk past the security guard in the lobby, I wonder how I look next to him… He's the same height as Baekhyun, more toned where the latter has softer edges. They both have sharp jawlines, but Jackson's cheeks are more chiseled than squishy like Baekhyun's sweet face—

"Ladies first," His low voice muses.

Lifting my head from my white high heels, I look into Jackson's eyes, realizing that his dark brown eyes don't hold the same tension Baekhyun's does when I am taller than him like this. My shyness aside, with my almost average height and tall heels, I'm a few centimeters taller than Jackson. But instead of finding that spark of insecurity I'm used to seeing in Baekhyun's eyes, Jackson looks at me as if I am the goddess who put the moon in the sky.

Stepping out into the quiet night, I look up at the stars, having to blink a few times when I see a pair of droopy brown eyes staring down at me. No. I shake my head, sighing in frustration. God, why do I see him everywhere I go?

We make our way to the parking lot on the side of the apartment complex. The silence between us isn't striffling like the one I've come to grow wary of over the past year. That piercing void full of held back frustration and heated glares...

A car unlocks in the distance, drawing my attention to a sleek black vehicle when it lights up. A Jaguar, stunning with it's cat-eye headlights and the way the engine purrs to life. The car is honestly mesmerizing, and it suits Jackson well, but my heart tugs painfully in my chest when he opens the passenger door for me and I don't see any red accessory detailing on the inside...

"You look stunning in that dress." He says when he climbs into the driver's seat, his low voice making me feel something deep in my stomach.

"T-Thank you," I blush scarlet, shifting towards the passenger window to hide my red face. It's been a long time since someone has complimented me so genuinely. I haven't felt like this since—

"Are you really that insecure?"

The memory hits me like a punch to the gut.

"You okay?" Jackson asks, his eyes shining with concern.

"Y-Yeah," I whisper, clutching onto my purse. My face hasn't cooled down since I left my apartment and I doubt it will at this rate. Between Jackson's sweet eyes and Baekhyun's teary ones that haven't left my mind, I'm royally screwed. "How's work?"

Jackson hums. "It's good." He keeps his eyes on the road, pulling out of the parking lot. "The movie is coming along nicely."

Taking a few discrete and deep breaths, I rest my head on my arm, focusing on the low timbre of his raspy voice. "Did the tech team find any more of those files?"

"No." He shakes his head, making a left turn. "Thankfully those were the only ones," He smiles, glancing over at me; the twinkles of excitement and affection in his eyes is hard to ignore. "Now the editing team can take over."

I fight the urge to rest a hand over my heart. "The movie won't be delayed?"

"The movie won't be delayed," He confirms warmly, focusing fully on me at the next red light. His brown hair falls attractively over his forehead, casting a shadow over his dark and expressive eyes. "We'll be ahead of schedule. Everyone worked in advance while waiting for the tech team to sort through the files."

"That's good," I smile, turning my attention to our surroundings streaming past the window.

Jackson navigates us down the long Seoul streets, the city lights reflecting in his dark eyes while he steers the wheel with both hands. He looks handsome under the favor of the moonlight, the headlights of passing cars sparkling across his thin necklace. For a moment I imagine a future—an us. How it would feel to hold his calloused hands and gaze into his adoring eyes. What it would be like to wake up to his face in the mornings. That deep, raspy voice… I shiver at the thought, praying the traffic lights don't show the red hue I feel on my cheeks.

Soft and slow R&B floats from the quiet car radio, caressing my ears with its gentle melodies while Jackson turns his blinkers on. I hum, tapping along to the beat, a smile curling at my lips. It's a perfect song for a summer night like this, adding a calming atmosphere to the intimate space of Jackson's car—

"I love this song."

Baekhyun raises a brow, his eyes focused on the road as he turns up the radio with a smile. "Really?"

"Yeah." He has such a stunning side profile, I could gaze at him for hours. "I listened to a lot of their songs growing up."

"Your parents have great taste."

"Mm." The sunlight reflecting in his brown eyes has nothing on the sparkles of happiness in his shining orbs. "I guess you do too."

I sigh through my nose, shoving down the emotions budding in my chest. No matter how hard I try, memories of him continue to play in my mind. All our romantic mid-day drives and late night talks of a future we thought we had in store… Our shared hopes and dreams that went up in flames before our very eyes.

Next thing I know, Jackson is putting the car into park, the purr of the engine cutting off in exchange for the summer heat seeping in through the pause of the air conditioner.

"You ready?" He looks over at me, the urge to brush his hair out of his eyes hitting me full force.

"Yeah," I smile, curling my hand around the strap of my purse. The giddy smile he gives me in return is so damn sweet I want to cry.

Jackson steps out of the Jaguar and it doesn't take him long to round the car. He opens the passenger door for me before I realize that we've reached the restaurant.

"Thank you," I giggle in embarrassment, placing my hand in the one he offers me with another one of those adorable smiles of his. My heart skips a beat when he presses a kiss to the back of my hand while I step out onto the asphalt. If he keeps this up I'm going to have a heart attack over this softness. What the hell, why aren't there more guys like Jackson in the world? And how the hell has he been single this whole time with him out here sweeping me off my feet like this?

His widened smile and the way his eyes drift over my features has a comforting warmth settling over my beating heart. He leads the way to the restaurant, opening the door for me like the heart-fluttering gentleman he is. He's going all out on winning me over tonight and I'm loving every minute of it.

The smell of freshly baked lasagna and garlic bread has my mouth watering as we make our way up to the counter. I catch a peek at the beautifully arranged, round wooden tables under a romantic lighting in the next room.

"Reservations for Wang." Jackson's voice sounds more firm when he addresses the lady at the counter, a flicker of his director persona flashing across his face. If nothing else, one look at him and you can tell that he's about business—even for a little date like this. A first date too. It's hard fighting my adoring smile.

The receptionist checks on the computer in front of her and looks down at her clipboard, nodding with a polite smile. "Right this way," She gestures to the next room. Her black suit, matching bow tie, and crisp clean, white dress shirt add onto the expensive air of the restaurant. The food is fresh, the atmosphere is dreamy, and every surface shines brightly under the dim candle-lit lights.

The further we walk into the restaurant, the more I have to be sure not to let my jaw drop in awe. Everything about this place is magical, from the happily conversing customers to the beautiful chandeliers in the hallway. The receptionist leads us to a table in a more secluded area, the muffled chatter of the rest of the patrons coming through the velvet walls. "Your water will be out shortly," She sets the menus on the table before taking her leave with a bow.

"Allow me," Jackson murmurs, his words caressing my ear. His cologne washes over me when he walks over to the table, pulling out a chair and waiting for me with the most charming smile on his face. I can't hold my own back even if I tried.

"Thank you," I say warmly, humored and flattered beyond belief. The proximity of his hand to my bare shoulders has a pleasant shiver going down my spine. A flush forms on my face. The man has done nothing but be a gentleman and I'm over here yearning for his touch like a giddy teenager.

Jackson's scent hits me once again when he moves to take his seat. The minty smell of aftershave and a hint of his own unique manly scent has me damn near drooling and we haven't even had appetizers yet. My stomach is building tension and I doubt it has anything to do with the menu.

"How was your day?" He inquires.

I startle out of my horny musings like a cat doused in cold water. Oh shit. "It was alright," I laugh nervously, trying to keep my voice from wavering into that annoying raspy tone it gets when I'm not careful enough. "I turned in my final assignments and am awaiting my test results for the semester."

A waiter comes to take our order, sparing me a few minutes from having to explain myself. I'm struggling to find words here. What am I supposed to say? "Oh yeah, I spent all day daydreaming about my heartbroken ex and the steamy sex we used to have." I'd die of embarrassment so damn fast. I'm appalled at myself.

"What are you studying?" His dark brown eyes are back on me when the waiter walks away. A flutter stutters in my chest under his attentive gaze.

"Business," I resist the urge to rest my chin on my palm, choosing to swirl my fork around my salad instead. "I'm working on my bachelor's degree. I want to improve my performance at work."

His eyes widen, curiosity painting on his handsome features. "What do you do?"

I smile softly. He's adorable. "I'm the Director at Park's Publishing."

"You work in a publishing house?"

"I manage the 5th floor," I share, a smirk quirking at my lips. The last thing I did this morning before going home around lunch was inform everyone about our busy schedule at the end of the month. "I miss my editing days, not gonna lie." I laugh, poking an olive. "Sorry, work kind of stresses me out."

"No," Jackson shakes his head, smiling softly, "I get it. Taking a group of people under your wing is a big responsibility."

"It's sooo difficult." Sighing, I cross my legs, the back of my heel clicking against the leg of my chair. "Since I'm not directly in charge of editing, I have to guide others and keep reminding myself that I can't do the work for them. They have to learn on their own."

"Same," He nods, swallowing a bite of Italian seasoning drenched tomato and lettuce. "I have to fight the urge to take things over that the marketing and editing teams are supposed to handle." A flicker of annoyance crosses his face, making me smile in understanding. "Good thing I'm not Ceo," He jokes.

I laugh, thinking to myself: Yeah, thank fuck you aren't one.

When the waiter brings our food, the reminder that I haven't eaten all day stirs in my hungry stomach. I take a bite of my chicken alfredo before it can growl, closing my eyes to hide how they roll back when the gooey goodness of cheese and perfectly boiled noodle hits my tongue. Holy fuck. This food right here is the shit. If I had a meal like this more often, I'd never complain again in my life.

I find myself observing Jackson while he enjoys his own meal. He chews with his mouth closed, neatly cutting his chicken with a fork and knife. The room is quiet with only the soft music playing overhead and the sound of our silverware clicking against the pristine plates.

"I want to wake up every morning to your sleeping face curled up by my side," Baekhyun murmurs, smiling shyly.The red hue of his cheeks endearing under the dim lights. "Your hair products cluttering our dresser and your toothbrush next to mine."

"You really like cucumbers, huh?" Jackson muses.

I jolt out of my thoughts, realizing to my horror that I've been leaning over the table, picking the cucumbers from his salad. "Oh! Y-Yeah," I chuckle, my face burning scarlet. From humor or embarrassment, I have no idea. Probably both at this rate. "You could say that..."

Originally posted by sefuns

August fades seamlessly into September, urging the leaves on trees to change into red, orange, and pretty yellow hues. Gone are the dog days of summer smitting everyone from above. Now the best season of all is coming out to play, and I am all for it.

Skipping down the street in my newest yellow skater dress and nude sandals, I check the GPS on my phone to search for the street that I'm on. Today I decided that walking around aimlessly for hours was the best course of action to clear my mind, and now I've found myself in a part of Seoul that I've never been to before.

The architecture of the landscape around me is something to behold. The windows are cut out squares that only allow light to be seen from within the rooms as the sun goes down, and the buildings are curved this way and that in the most intricate of ways. It surely is a view I wouldn't mind venutring over here to see again sometime. The lively chatter of pedestrians on the sidewalk is refreshing too.

Smiling to myself, my eyes catch sight of a particular building in the distance. I quickly cross the street for a closer look. It's a giant library that looks to be 4 stories tall, showcasing a huge bookshelf on the back wall from the view of the front windows. Highly intrigued, and lowkey smitten, I step inside for a closer look.

The smell of books hits me in an instant, the young and old novels arranged neatly in little bookshelves compared to that mountain of literature on the farthest wall. There's a small cafe serving up delicious muffins to my right and a huge sitting area full of the perfect lounge chairs on my left. Crowds of people make their way to and fro between the aisles without hiccup. There's so much to do that I don't even know where to start.

Walking over to the Romance section, I skim my fingertips along the book covers, aimlessly striding down the aisle until a thin, blue book catches my eye. Curious, I move to pull it out only for another hand to beat me to it. A familiar, slender hand.

I yank my hand back at once. "Dude!" Lowering my voice, I glare at the man in front of me. "Why the hell are you always everywhere? Are you following me around or what?"

"W-What?" Baekhyun's wide brown eyes stare back at me.

"I never thought you'd resort to stalking, Baekhyun." I shake my head, brushing past him, the silver buttons of his waist-length jacket cold against my sun-kissed skin.

"I'm not fucking!" He slaps a hand over his face, exhaling deeply. "I'm not following you around."

"Then why are you here, huh?" I keep my eyes forward, marching into the next aisle.

"Because—will you stop walking away from me?!?!?!"

I freeze, the sheer desperation in his voice roots my feet to the floor. "Why are you here, Baekhyun?" I cross my arms, shivering under the air conditioner overhead.

"Hannam-dong library extraordinaire," He utters, his shadow moving closer as I tense up. "You put it on the bucket list. The one we made together." Hope pours out from his every word, his painfully slow footsteps seeming to stem from the faint memories crowding his mind. "You listed every place you wanted to go and w-we, we never…" He stops when his voice cracks, clearing his throat. "You made a copy by hand so we'd always have it," He mumbles sadly. "I guess it's meaningless now."

Emotions grip at my throat and tears threaten to fill my eyes. I slowly turn around, snatching the book out of his hands. "Give me that." Flickering my eyes up to his hurt-filled eyes, I gesture to the sitting area with my chin. "Follow me."

Baekhyun follows behind me without a word, shuffling his boots noisily on the carpeted floor. I have half the mind to tell him about it until I remember where we are—in a library and in life. Biting my tongue, I plop down into the longest couch available, staring at his nervous figure when he doesn't join me. "Come on!" I snap, throwing a pillow at him that he's quick to catch. "Sit your ass down, I don't got all day." I grumble, opening the blue book. "I came here to read and I plan to do so."

A few moments go by, nothing but the quiet chatter of visitors and the coffee pot whistling on the other side of the room fills the air. Just when my heart drops at the thought of him being gone, a weight sinks down into the couch next to me. I look to see Baekhyun in a grey sweater, his jacket left on the back of the chair. His eyes are closed and neck is bare while resting his head on the back of the couch. Silver locks of hair messily dangle on his forehead, long eyelashes caressing the tops of his cheeks. I frown at the lack of fluff I find there, his mother's words a distant whisper in my ear.

Baekhyun makes me jump when he peeks an eye open, opening the other before blinking slowly at me. "I'm listening," He murmurs softly, keeping those expressive brown eyes on me.

My heart skips a beat. Smiling to myself, I focus back on the book in my hands, flipping to the first page and beginning to read aloud.

•••

Weeks fly by once mid September hits, endless clusters of colored leaves blowing away in its wind. The sun rises later in the day and sets at a different angle at night, casting warm shadows over my bedroom window that never fail to bring a smile to my face. Everything about this time of year puts me in high spirits. The weather is perfect for my velvety outfits and the annoying ass bugs are finally starting to go away. It's a calm, homey fairytale land full of sweet breezes and mid autumn adventures.

I lean over my vanity while painstakingly applying my red lipstick in the mirror, smoothing it out with care. My makeup for tonight goes well with my newest party dress, a burgundy velvet, off the shoulder piece with a deep v neck. It has long puffed sleeves with fitted cuffs that wrap comfortably around my wrists and a matching belt to emphasize the hourglass shape of my waist. The thick material is perfect for early October, the nights beginning to get just the littlest bit colder.

Humming to myself, I carefully put on my gold dangling earrings, smiling at the reflection of my wavy hair. Just letting it air dry with curling irons in it for a few minutes ended up with the subtle result. I'm attending one of Jackson's infamous parties tonight as his date, not his seducer. Although, I don't need to get all dolled up to impress him anyway. Batting my eyelashes and looking intensely into his deep, dark brown eyes is enough.

This time around, I'm prepared for the knock on my door. Two months of various dates has sunk a certain time into my core. 10pm on the dot. Punctual as always. My red painted lips quirk up at the thought. With one last glance into my vanity mirror, I spin around on my one-inch, open-toed black heels, strutting over to open the door and whistling at the sight.

Jackson smiles, looking hot as hell in his black blazer and thin gold chain with no shirt underneath. His muscular thighs look amazing in his tight jeans, and with his brown hair brushed back with a few strands of hair attractively left on his forehead…

"You look gorgeous," He murmurs, planting a kiss on my forehead while I'm distracted by his two sets of gold earrings.

I smile coyly, tucking my finger in his necklace and tugging on it lightly. "You're not so bad yourself."

Conversations between us flow more easily over the past few months. I show him my sass and he throws it right back, making me laugh every time. His attractive mind comes up with the most astounding ideas and points of view. There are many different sides to him as well. His confident, professional way of handling business to how he likes to roll over on my couch to rest his head in my lap and look up at me with those dark brown puppy eyes.

Things are easy—that's just how it is with Jackson. It's a nice change from the complicated men in my life. He's adorable and sexy all in one.

The clicks of my heels echo across the sidewalk as we walk up to the frat house, my hand wrapped around his bicep. The party is just starting to pick up it seems; a fair amount of party goers are streaming in the front double doors.

"I want to introduce you to someone," Jackson perks up the moment we reach the entrance.

"Really?" I bat my eyes at him, stepping closer when someone brushes past us in a hurry. "Well, I'm down for that."

He smiles, holding the door open for me. I softly squeeze his bicep before letting him go, walking into his alumni house for the first time in almost a year. Last December I was crossing this same threshold with Jenny by my side, can you believe that? A lot can happen in 10 months, and I can't wait for what's in store for me.

"Jackson!" A deep voice reaches us over the loud music and growing crowd. I can barely make out a figure under all the neon lights, beckoning us over. Jackson's cologne washes over me before I feel his arm brush against my back.

"Let's go," He takes my hand in his, a smile audible in his raspy voice. I follow his lead, swiveling my head around to take in the view of the house. Just as I thought, everything is impeccably arranged. From the mini bar in the back corner to the DJ booth, it screams Jackson. Charming. Intelligent. And expensive. Even with the clumsy party attendees stumbling around.

He turns the corner on the right side of the hallway, following the medium-build figure walking down to a slightly ajar door at the end of the hall. The chatter from within the small room comes to a halt when the stranger pushes open the door.

"Took you long enough, Tuan!" A high-pitched, bubbly voice laughs, their plump lips smiling in amusement.

The man we've been following turns around, smiling while 5 other pairs of eyes land on us. "Hey, man."

"Mark," Jackson steps forward for a bro hug, clapping a hand over the raven's back. He goes around to do the same and fist bumps the other men in the room before standing next to me again. "There's someone I'd like you to meet."

All of them smile, curiosity and friendliness coming off of them in waves—except for one.

Yugyeom sits with his legs crossed in the far corner of the room, smirking while leaning his head in his hand. I make a point to ignore him, shaking everyone's hand with my most polite smile. Their compliments of my dress has me blushing all the way up to my ears. Thankfully the dim lights hide it from view.

Jackson and I take a spot on the only available couch in the cozy room, sitting between Mark and another man with sharp cat-like eyes and a barbell piercing.

"Is this your first party?" The latter asks, swirling the brown alcohol in his glass.

"No," I smile, way too aware of Yugyeom's stare burning into the side of my head. I carefully open a can of beer that Jackson hands to me, taking a long sip.

"Huh," He takes a swing of his drink while I lean my head onto Jackson's shoulder. "Why haven't I seen you around before?"

"I have," Yugyeom joins in, smirking and wiggling his eyebrows at me from over the rim of his glass. My eye twitches. Yeah, I see why this little shit and Jenny broke up.

I quietly observe everyone while the night carries on, the faint bass from the music down the hallway vibrating through the floor. Jackson catches up with his "brothers," in the meantime, updating them on the progress of his film. My eyes lazily sweep over the well-furnished room, the edges of my vision turning blurry. I make sure that the next two cans of beer that I drink aren't open when they are handed to me.

Sometime around midnight, I loosen up, the buzz of alcohol rushing through my veins prompting me to lose my filter. Between BamBam with the plush lips playful banter and the juicy tales of Jaebum's romantic conquests, I'm positively beaming, chatting without a care with my legs draped over Jackson's lap.

Mark cracks a joke that sends me reeling, nearly falling off of the couch if it wasn't for the man next to me, wrapping a strong arm around my waist. I hide my face in the crook of his neck, taking in his vanilla scent. The hint of citrus on his honey-toned skin has warmth spreading over my chest, the image of his sweet, brown puppy eyes printed behind my eyelids.

I laugh until I realize how dead silent the room has gotten. Lifting my head, I look around before tugging lightly on Jackson's sleeve. "Hey..." I murmur with difficulty, growing unnerved under their piercing stares. "What's-"

"Let's call it a night," He mutters, not meeting my eye.

Snapping my mouth shut, I nod, wondering what I did wrong while he bids everyone goodnight. I stand up with the help of his hand on my arm, guiding me over to the doorway that seems to be tilting to the side.

"Hey…" I try again, focusing hard on putting one foot in front of the other. What happened…? Did I laugh too hard? React too dramatically? Is there a piece of fruit stuck between my teeth? I knew I shouldn't have had that parfait before—

Jackson pulls aside me to an empty corner shielded by large plants in the hallway. His lips part a few times before he presses them into a thin line. "You just called me Baekhyun," He mutters, clenching his jaw.

Oh. I sober up in a heartbeat. "S-Shit, I-" The color drains from my face the longer I gaze into his disappointed dark brown eyes. I can feel tears filling my own. "I'm so sorry-"

"It's fine." His stiff posture says otherwise and I've never seen such a hard expression on his features before. "I'll drive you home."

"Wait…" Resting my hand on his arm, I brace myself with a racing heart for the backlash I'll get for what I'm about to ask. "C-Can you drop me off somewhere instead?"

•••

The car ride into the heart of Seoul is stifling. I can't recall us ever being like this… let alone having Jackson angry with me. His grip on the steering wheel has his knuckles turning white, the clench of his jaw concerning me as well. I can only blame myself, swearing inwardly for coming out tonight.

This wasn't supposed to happen… None of this was. The Baekhyun; the shy smiles; the longing. The Yugyeom; the drinking; the nerves... If I could go back in time, I never would have gone to that frat party last year. I would have stayed at Jenny's apartment, bonding over skincare routines and shitty tv shows. But no... I had to go out that December night, and now I am facing the consequences.

It's taking everything in me just to hold back my tears.

"We're here." Jackson speaks up after an hour of silence, nothing but the zooming cars and lively nightlife filling up the empty space from beyond the tinted windows. It does little to ease the tension in the car—it only seems to build when he pulls up to the curb, leaving the engine running.

A lump forms in my throat, making it hard to breathe. I can't even face him right now. By the cold look in his eyes, I know there is no use trying to talk to him. I can't even defend myself. There's only one explanation for what happened earlier, and it's the most shitty one of all...

Baekhyun.

On my mind; in my thoughts; in my heart. The way his long eyelashes brush the top of his glowy cheeks and the world swirling in his sparkly brown eyes when he looks at me. Everywhere I go, I see him, feel him, and wish he was there… From the darkest crevices of my anxious mind to the deepest depths of my beating heart.

No matter where I turn. No matter how much I try. There is only one man in the world for me in this lifetime. There is only one name my soul cries out for… and it isn't the one next to me.

I swallow hard, my heart aching for Jackson. The telling shine of tears reflected in his brown eyes can't be hidden when a truck drives past, revealing the vulnerability in his dark eyes. I hate that things are ending this way. The pounding of my head and sour taste on the back of my tongue are only reminders of how much I've messed up tonight.

Working up my nerve, I step out of his Jaguar, ducking my head back inside with a tight grip on the door.

"Thank you," I whisper over the loud crickets and crying tree frogs, "For everything." Sighing shakily, I crack one last smile as a tear rolls down my cheek. "Thank you for showing me how wonderful life can be."

Jackson turns his head, regarding me with teary, fire-filled eyes. His throat bobs and he manages a small smile in return, nodding slowly. "The pleasure is all mine, Riley."

With a pounding heart, I close the car door with care, walking onto the curb. I look back over my shoulder one more time when I reach the doors of the apartment complex, watching him drive off with a sad smile. The quiet night wraps around me, bringing me little comfort against the bitter cold that I feel inside of my heart. What if I'm making a mistake? I just walked away from the only man who treated me the way I deserve… A stable, well off man for a broken, world shattering one.

A million thoughts race through my mind while climbing the stairs to his apartment, my hand clutching onto the railing for dear life. What if he's not home? What if I'm too late? What if he's finally moved on and I'm the only one still stuck in the past? Still stuck on us?

Tears spring to my eyes, making it hard to see the wobbly steps with my blurred vision, but I carry on, one step at a time. Something tugs deep in my chest—a gut feeling. One that has me pausing from the sheer force behind it.

Baekhyun is my home, and he is waiting for me.

I break out into a run, nearly slipping on the last step before I reach the landing of the fourth floor, swinging the stairway door open so hard it collides with the wall. My heels pound against the marble floor until I trip over something, slamming my head on his door. The resounding thud echoes across the silent walls and the door is yanked open within seconds.

His wide, shock-filled brown eyes stare at me from the doorway, with his messy silver hair and a white wrinkled t-shirt.

I all but throw myself at him.

Baekhyun gasps, catching me before I fall. "Riley, I-"

"No." I shake my head, hugging him tighter, my voice wavering. "You listen to me." Looking up into his brown eyes, I cup his warm cheeks in my cold hands. "I don't care how long it takes, I don't care how much my heart breaks." My chin wobbles, salty tears streaming like a waterfall down my face, but nothing else matters. Nothing can hurt me when I'm in his comforting embrace.

"If it's not with you, I don't want it," I breathe, staring deep into his glimmering eyes. "Do you hear me? You can break my heart a million times, and I can do the same." Swiping a tear from under his eye, I cradle his face in my palm, painting his vulnerable expression into memory. "As long as we mend it back together, we will be okay." I nod, looking between his wide eyes. "We will get through this." I state firmly, melting against him when he tightens his hold on my waist. "We are in this together. Okay?" His silence is worrying me… "B?"

"Are you…" He slowly reaches up, cupping my cold cheek in his warm hand, his frantic brown eyes searching mine for answers. "Are you really here?" He whispers.

"Yes." I watch the light begin to return to his tired eyes. "I'm here, Baekhyun." I pull him closer, squeezing him in my arms, his racing heart beating in sync with mine. "I'm here." My heart drops when he pulls away.

Baekhyun shakes his head, moving his hand from my cheek to take mine into his. "I'm stubborn, insecure, and possessive." He mutters, gazing right into my eyes, determination written all over his face. "I'm… I'm annoying, overbearing, and a workaholic."

I give him my softest, loving smile. "Well, me too." Slowly reaching for him again, I paint my name on his honey-toned skin with my fingertips. "Let's be fucked up together, hmm?"

"I…" He sighs, resting his forehead on mine, staring lovingly and worriedly into my eyes. "I don't want you to regret this."

"I won't," I murmur, tracing three little words across his collarbones. "If I do, we'll fight and then have makeup sex."

Baekhyun chokes. "You're terrible." He coughs, patting his chest, the red hue on his cheeks more endearing than ever before.

I shrug, smiling at him. "When it comes to you?" Sliding my hand up his chest, I tangle my fingers in his messy hair, hovering my lips over his, "I am many things."

•••

It's funny; how easy it is to fall back into him. His loving arms and secure embrace. Every day spent with him slowly mends the cracks in my fragile heart, filling them with the most everlasting remedy of all. Love.

Time is endless when I am with him. Moments become weeks. Seconds turn into hours. Being with Baekhyun makes any taxing and mundane task into a precious activity that I'd love to do again—just because it's him.

Our dynamic has changed, even the air around us is new. We talk about everything. We face problems head on. A few arguments break out sometimes because we are two stubborn individuals, but those aren't a problem now. No big fights. No tearing into each other. I may call him an asshole and he'll rebuke with that I'm being a bitch, (which I am more often than not,) but at the end of the day. When the tension is gone and our sad eyes lock from across the room. We work things out and fall more in love with each other, no matter the struggle we've been through.

—Like right now.

"Perfect," I laugh bitterly, taking out my earrings while storming into the living room. "Fucking perfect."

"Riley," Baekhyun sighs, closing the door.

"No. Fuck this." I spit heatedly, throwing my hands up. "You always do this bullshit. Every time I go out you have something to say. What is it, huh? Why you always got to be up in my shit-"

Turning to him, I'm met by tired brown eyes, his hands falling limply to his sides. "Can we talk this out?" He asks softly, eyes pleading. "I rather hold you than fight."

Still huffing and puffing, I stare into his puppy eyes and sad pout. Without a word, I march over to him, tucking myself under his chin and wrapping my arms around his waist.

"I get it, okay? I have no problems with you going out with your friends." He mumbles into my hair, kissing my head. "I just want to make sure you are safe. Call me, text me, send me a pic to let me know that you're alright." He pulls back a little to cup my face in his hands, staring deep into my eyes. "You're my baby," He whispers, brushing frustrated tears from my cheeks. "If something ever happened to you I wouldn't be able to live with myself. Please understand where I'm coming from."

"Okay." I mumble against his shoulder, hiding more in his vanilla scent. "...I'm sorry for going off on you."

"Shh," Baekhyun hugs me tighter, surrounding me in his warmth and tangling his fingers in my hair. "I trust you, okay?" He nuzzles in my hair, sighing softly. "It's the rest of the world that I don't."

I love him. I love him with every part of me. If I had the chance to go back in time, I'd choose to meet him every time. Even on days where I have to walk out of his apartment to catch a breather. Those cold nights where I stubbornly shiver on his balcony until he comes out to place his jacket on my shoulders. And the times I ask myself why the hell I'm fighting with him over which color we should switch his window curtains into again. Despite all the good and the bad. The happiness and earth shattering agony. I wouldn't change it for the world.

"Are you cold?" Baekhyun mumbles, bringing the back of my hand to his cheek.

"I'm fine, B," I reassure, ignoring the goosebumps that erupt on my skin. From his loving touch or the cold bite of the November air, I have no idea. Most likely both.

"You're shivering." He points out, already struggling off his jacket before I can respond. "I told you it would be cold today."

"I wanted to take the risk, okay?" I sigh, smiling into the cinnamon scented fabric he places on my shoulders.

"It's the middle of November," He murmurs with a shake of his head, tucking our joined hands into the pocket of his jeans.

"Maybe," I mumble in amusement, beaming at him and batting my eyelashes. "But you love this dress on me. Admit it." Today I'm wearing a royal blue summer dress. The weather may be shifting from windy fall to bitter winter, but that won't stop me from rocking this sleeveless, v neck, shirt dress with a tie around my waist.

Baekhyun's eyes shift away from the red crosswalk light ahead to look me over, taking his time with a little cheeky smile on his face. "Well," He murmurs, mischief shining in his sparkly brown eyes. "I can't deny that."

I giggle, ignoring the warmth on my cheeks when he softly squeezes my hand, leading the way as we cross the street. I've missed this feeling: walking hand and hand—our fingers interwtined and young hearts racing as one. Not even the chilly wind can ruin the mood I'm in—I just tuck myself closer to his side.

Baekhyun hums, wrapping his arm around me, pulling me closer when a group of children come running down the sidewalk. The shrill voice of their scolding mother has us sharing a knowing look, smiling shyly. Yeah, nothing quite gets better than this.

"Riley?"

I stiffen, that low, raspy voice shakes me to my very core.

Baekhyun's brown eyes shoot to mine in an instant. "Baby?" He murmurs, a worried frown on his face as he leans to my ear. "Do you know him?"

"Um-" I avoid his eyes, holding onto the hem of his shirt for dear life. "I- Uh-"

A shadow falls over us before a figure walks around to face us, and those dark brown puppy eyes have never looked so solemn. Fuck.

"Jackson Wang?" Baekhyun blinks, sending me into an internal panic. "Hey, man," He smiles, going in for a handshake. "Long time no see. How's the movie?"

Jackson's brown eyes stare into mine before he looks down at Baekhyun's hand. "Good."

Baekhyun frowns, retracting his hand, confusion written all over his face.

"Hey, fancy seeing you here," I manage a small, polite smile, my heart racing nervously when Jackson pulls the towel from around his neck, his dark brown eyes landing back on me. "What you up to?" I tilt my head, resting a hand on Baekhyun's back.

"Out for a jog," Jackson shrugs, the fabric of his black t-shirt sticking to his damp skin. His eyes track how Baekhyun reaches back to take my hand into his. "I was supposed to play basketball with the guys," He continues sourly, "But they blew me off."

"Ah…" I purse my lips, straining another smile. "I hope you all can meet up soon."

He nods, the clench of his jaw and unreadable look in his eyes telling me all that I need to know.

"Well!" Resting my hand on Baekhyun's bicep, I risk a glance at him, unnerved at the equally hard to read expression on his features. "Baekhyun and I will be heading out now. We have reservations to make."

Jackson merely nods, his eyes burning into the back of my head as I lead Baekhyun around him. "See you around, Riley."

Cursing under my breath, I shoot him one last smile over my shoulder, urging Baekyun to walk faster. I hold my breath until we turn the corner onto the next street. "Geez what a mess," I mutter, loosening my death grip on his hand.

Baekhyun continues to securely hold onto my hand and his calm, quiet reaction has me more anxious than all the fights we've had combined. "B-Baekhyun?" I ask tentatively, trying to read his side profile. "Are you okay?" The way his silence stretches out is killing me. "B?"

"Well," He mumbles, nudging a stray rock on the ground. "Jackson is nice. He seems cool."

Uh oh. "Baekhyun-"

"No no, it's fine." He shakes his head. "I see the appeal, you know?" He looks over at me, smiling sadly. "Sharp jawline, muscular, more manly than I'll ever-"

I pull him into the nearest alleyway for privacy before facing him head on, resting my hands on his chest. "You know I only want you, right B?"

"I-I do, I just-" If the kicked puppy expression on his face was for anything else, I'd find it endearing. "He's so well put together and-"

I promptly press my lips to his, pulling back after a few moments with a raised brow. "Better?"

Baekhyun's lips part a few times, the open expression on his face cute as hell. He makes a small noise and hugs me close, sealing my lips in another kiss.

After that day, the ice has broken between us—the last wall I had built up came crumbling down. Hiding from Baekhyun isn't needed anymore. The reassurance that we can actually talk about things instead of letting tension build is all I could ask for, alongside his love and time of course. If only I could be with him tonight.

Mrs. Park wanted me to attend a press conference or whatever with her out of the blue, saying something about it being "a big deal" and "very important" that I be there. So here I am, accessing my options for the night.

Three different outfits cover the entirety of my bed, each bringing forth a slightly different mood from the last. The first one is my trusty go-to, below the knee length dress. A simple black piece of material that's flattering for my figure without exposing my wild side. The second outfit is a basic black blazer, white dress shirt, and black dress pants—the bore of all boring clothing. Nothing wrong with it, but I'm not feeling really "plain and dull" tonight.

Now, the third option is one to behold.

A dress that is a combination between the two: a long sleeved, low cut, black dress with pretty lace for the left sleeve and solid material on the right that wraps over more lace underneath. The perfect mix of femininity and authority. I think I know which outfit is the one for me.

Slipping into the warm material with ease, I grab my car keys and head out to meet Mrs. Park at the venue. The thought of sending Baekhyun a text crosses my mind while taking the elevator. Now that I think about it, I haven't heard from him all day. Where he at?? Is he still working late or did my comment about him never cooking a meal in his life hurt his feelings last night? If I wasn't piled up to my ears with paperwork all day I would have stopped by his office to have lunch…

Frowning to myself, I keep both my hands on the steering wheel, leaving my phone untouched in my purse on the passenger floor. Worried or not, I'm not even going to pull out my phone at the next red light. In a big city like Seoul, it's best not to take any chances, if any for that matter.

I navigate down the bright streets with ease, thankful that my GPS is cooperating with me today. Within an hour of traffic jams and watching out for jaywalkers on the street, I'm pulling into the parking lot of the venue. And with Mrs. Park leaning against the hood of her car, she isn't hard to find.

Making a three point turn, I back up into the parking space next to hers, not up for the hassle of dealing with gold digger assholes who will want me to hit them with my car later. Seoul or the South, the bullshitty ways of the road aren't that different.

"Hey," Mrs. Park smiles when I step out of my Porshe, dressed to the nines in her black pantsuit. She tilts her head towards the venue, the twinkle of her diamond earrings catching in the bright streetlights. "You ready to go?"

I walk around to her side to retrieve my purse from my car, tucking my hair behind my ear. "Yes, ma'am."

She smirks, a knowing look in her eye before locking her car. "Let's go."

Eyeing her warily, I follow her to the grand building, the clicks of our heels echoing across the pavement. For a moment the silence around us has me worrying if we are late until I see a red carpet surrounded by paparazzi in the far distance. What the hell?

"What exactly are we attending?" I ask carefully.

"A press conference," She doesn't miss a beat, glancing over at me. "Don't look so scared."

"I-"

"Smile," She continues, smiling reassuringly, "Just be yourself."

Sighing softly, I nod, preparing myself for anything. I trust Mrs. Park a lot, but if her cheeky son is anything to go by, I might be walking into something right now. And I have no idea what is awaiting me.

The clicks of the flashing cameras become more audible as we approach, a dozen cameramen throwing questions at us at once. I just smile, making sure all my sides are my best side while walking down the red carpet. Mrs. Park dodges their questions with ease, falling into step with me. We enter the open double doors of the venue without a hitch and the sight on the inside takes my breath away.

Floor to ceiling windows occupy the spacious hall with rows upon rows of velvet covered seats and a chandelier sparkling overhead. The stage at the far back has the first set of burgundy curtains drawn, showing a microphone stand. What kind of press conference is this? The amount of seating astounds me, let alone when Mrs. Park walks us right up to the front row.

I have so many questions to ask, but I just sit down in the seat at the end of the row, on the left side closest to the stairs leading up to the stage.

"Are we early?" I crane my neck around, watching other sharply dressed businessmen and women slowly fill up the venue.

"No." Mrs Park shakes her head as the lights dim down, smiling knowingly. "We're right on time."

Before I can reply, something shiny catches my attention out of the corner of my eye. I turn my head to face the stage, my eyes widening at the silver haired man walking out onto the stage.

"Good evening, everyone." Baekhyun's honey-smooth voice echoes around the hall. He struts over to the mic stand with a white microphone in hand, his Ceo aura and chosen outfit for the night taking my breath away.

He's wearing a sparkly black blazer with a black button-down shirt underneath, the first few buttons undone. The sleeves of his jacket have a glittery gold embroidery design shaped like a crown and there's a matching necklace resting around his shoulders, twinkling alluringly under the dim lights. His snug black jeans and heeled boots nearly have me on the floor. Pardon my French but—step on me please?

I gulp, sitting back in my seat while Baekhyun commands the stage. He has the whole crowd wrapped around his finger with every charming smile and deep chuckle he sends our way. I graciously accept a glass of wine from a waiter and cross my legs, too busy admiring him to listen to a word he says. It's been a while since I've had the pleasure to see this kind of view.

Baekhyun continues to speak to the crowd, coaxing adoring 'ah's' and the occasional applause. I lose my sense of time the longer he gives his speech, idly swirling my drink around my glass. I've barely drank half of it by the time the event starts coming to an end.

"Everyone." Baekhyun's voice rings over the murmuring crowd, clasping his hands together over the microphone, a soft smile playing at his lips. "If I can have a moment of your time, I'd like to say a few things before we wrap up."

My eyes widen to the size of saucers when he says my name, holding a hand out for me to take. I look around, narrowing my eyes at Mrs. Park's smiling figure. The wink she sends my way tells me everything that I need to know.

Everyone else in the crowd starts looking around, some of them settling their eyes onto me. I take a final sip of my wine and slowly set my glass down in the cup holder next to me. With one last breath and a weary glance, I approach the stage, the clicks of my heels echoing around the room.

The closer I get to Baekhyun's beaming face, the more my heart pounds, butterflies erupting in my stomach. But the moment my cold hand is securely in his, all of it fades away. With Baekhyun, I know I am safe.

He smiles, looking me over with affection shining in his eyes. "Everyone, meet my girlfriend." He announces into the microphone, softly squeezing my hand and facing the crowd again. "She didn't expect to be here tonight..." He trails off, smiling sheepishly. "I'll probably be getting an earful later." He chuckles, joining everyone in their brief laughter while I shoot him a look that screams 'you're damn right.' "But for now," He continues, settling his sparkly brown eyes back onto me, "I have something important to say."

Baekhyun takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. "If it wasn't for her, I wouldn't be standing here today." He squeezes my hand again, flickering his eyes back open to stare into mine. The warmth and undeniable love swirling within them sends my heart into overdrive. "If it wasn't for her patience, care and timeless, endless bounds of love." He sighs softly, smiling so sweetly while wrapping an arm around my waist before turning us both to the second set of curtains. "I wouldn't be here to present the newest clothing line."

The curtains go up and my jaw drops at the sight.

A huge glass container stands in the middle of the stage, showcasing mannequins wearing various articles of clothing. Soft looking blue sweaters, comfy jogging pants, black leggings with white embroidery flowers on the ends, and short jean shorts. There are over a dozen different clothes on display with the letter 'R' scripted on the front in beautiful cursive, but what really captures my attention is the red dress. Front and center.

The backless, sleeveless burgundy mermaid dress covered in sparkly jewels from start to finish, twinkling prettily under the dim lights while spun around on its high-rise platform.

"This goes out to Riley." Baekhyun hugs me close, making me grateful that I'm facing away from the crowd when tears spring to my eyes. He smiles shyly while gazing at me with those warm brown eyes. "The woman of my dreams and love of my life."

I stare right back into those deep brown pools of love, biting the inside of my cheek to keep my chin from wobbling. Not able to take it anymore, I cup his glowy cheeks in my hands, pressing my lips to his.

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

A/N: This was a mouthful, don’t mind me, I’m formatting the other 9k 😭💗

#baekhyun smut #bbh-net #supermwritersnet #baekhyun angst #baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun romance #Six Phases #let's go heartbreak and smutty town #with a surprise within ;)

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