#Baekhyun Series | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

baekhyunsbestie · 1 month ago

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𝟎𝟒 ⭑ ( LOVERBOY ) .ᐟ

𝟎𝟏. HEAVY HITTER ⤷ masterlist ⋆ ⟡ ࣪ ˖

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 18+ content / mdni ꒱ ˎˊ˗ 7.7k+ words. college athlete!baekhyun x f!reader. college au. reader's name is ‘bunny’ in place of ‘y/n.’ explicit language. jealousy. scenes with alcohol + weed. driving while high/tipsy (do not do this omg). eventual smut.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ a/n ꒱ ˎˊ˗ EEEEP!!! the first chapter's finally here :') sorry it took me so long lovers!! sooooo if u don’t know, exist era baekhyun tickles tf outta my cooter lmao so imagine that vers. of him when reading this series hehe <3333 hope ya like it! p.s. besides the exos, there are no other idols in this fic! the roommate’s name is aeri, but i didn’t imagine giselle from aespa or anyone specific when writing her. she’s just a regular character with a pretty name, so don’t overthink it 💘💗💓💖💖💞💘💞🩷

you've known baekhyun for as long as you can remember—two lives woven together by privilege, expectation, and an unspoken pull neither of you ever dared to name.

gala nights were spent slipping away from stiff conversations and clinking glasses, your fingers wrapped around the neck of a stolen champagne bottle as he pulled you toward the balcony, both of you laughing quietly at the thrill of getting away with it. summer meant sun-drenched afternoons at family vacation homes, barefoot races down private beaches, and stolen moments under the stars, whispering secrets neither of you would ever say in the daylight. and then there were the nights—long, stretching into morning, filled with phone calls that started with a teasing “couldn’t sleep without me?” and ended in easy silence, neither of you willing to hang up first.

you understood each other in a way no one else did. the endless teasing, the playful competitions that sometimes turned serious, the way neither of you ever backed down from a challenge. he was infuriating, cocky, a little too smug for his own good, but somehow, you never minded as much as you pretended to.

but feelings? real feelings? no. never. not between you two.

and no one knew about any of it. your history with him.

it was easier that way.

you already had your last name, your family’s legacy, the weight of expectation pressing down on you at every turn. you were already someone’s daughter, already whispered about, already attached to a name much bigger than your own. the last thing you needed was baekhyun tied to you, too.

so you never acknowledged him in public, not in the way that mattered. not in the way that gave away what he really was to you.

now, in college, baekhyun is exactly what everyone expected him to be—the golden boy, the it boy on campus, the captain of the baseball team. he commands the field like he was born for it, star pitcher, heavy hitter, the one everyone watches when the game is on the line. he's all smirks and sharp confidence, his jersey hugging his lean frame, his name chanted in the stands.

you, too, are thriving—balancing academic pressure with the weight of your last name, navigating social obligations with practiced ease. your world is polished, pristine, effortless on the surface.

and no one connects the two of you.

not the students, not the faculty, not even your closest friends.

not even your roommate, aeri.

sweet, wide-eyed, utterly oblivious to the history between you and baekhyun. she has a little thing for him—not that you notice at first. but it's there, in the way she wears his number at games, in the dreamy way she talks about his highlight reels, in the way her eyes follow him like he's something untouchable.

except, you know better.

baekhyun has never been untouchable.

not to you.

aeri had been talking about baseball season since the first day you moved in together.

it started small—casual mentions of past games, reminiscing on last season’s highlights, swooning over the golden boy himself, as she so dramatically called him. but as the weeks passed, her excitement only grew, reaching an unbearable peak as opening day approached. she had her schedule memorized, her outfits planned out, and a whole pinterest board dedicated to gameday looks.

“you don’t understand,” she gushed one evening, sprawled across her bed, scrolling through photos from last year’s games. “the energy, the crowd, the team. they’re all so close, and it shows when they play. it’s like watching a damn movie.”

she wasn’t wrong. your university’s baseball team was known for their synergy—every play seamless, every game intense. people always said it was because they lived together, their coach believing that shared space meant shared success. no cliques, no outsiders. just one unit, on and off the field.

aeri sighed dreamily, tapping on a candid shot of baekhyun from last season, uniform dirty with clay, cap pushed back just enough to reveal the sharp line of his jaw. “and baekhyun… he’s so hot. like, i don’t even care that he knows it. it just makes him hotter.”

you hummed, pretending to be half-interested as you focused on your laptop.

“you guys are kinda close, though, huh?” she mused, suddenly turning her attention to you. “i always see you talking to him at parties. he doesn’t really let people get close like that unless you’re on the team.”

your fingers hesitated over the keyboard for half a second before you recovered. “we had a class together last fall,” you said smoothly. “got paired for a group project and just… started talking.”

it was a lie. a simple, harmless lie.

but she frowned slightly, like she wasn’t sure if she believed you. “huh. weird. i just thought—i dunno… you two seem like you’ve known each other longer.”

you shrugged. “nope. just a semester.”

she didn’t say anything after that, but there was something in the way she pursed her lips, in the way her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her hoodie, that made you wonder if she wasn’t just obsessed with baekhyun—she was jealous.

not just of him.

but maybe… of you, too.

you could understand why. aeri had been going to every game, every afterparty, every team event since her freshman year, circling their world like a spectator with no real way in. meanwhile, you had spent the fall semester getting close to chanyeol—another core member of the team—because of your shared psychology class. between him and baekhyun, you had unintentionally placed yourself right in the middle of their circle.

and aeri noticed.

she noticed when chanyeol draped an arm over your shoulders like it was second nature. she noticed when baekhyun, despite his usual arrogance, always acknowledged you first when he walked into a room.

but she didn’t say anything.

she just watched. and waited.

the stadium was electric, buzzing with energy as dusk settled over the field, the sky streaked with deep purples and golds. the floodlights cast sharp, artificial brilliance over the diamond, illuminating the damp sheen on baekhyun’s forehead as he stepped up to the plate. the late autumn air was crisp, biting against his skin, but he barely felt it. his focus was razor-sharp, trained on the pitcher standing a few feet ahead, fingers flexing around the bat like it was an extension of himself.

the roar of the crowd was deafening, a pulsing mix of cheers and anticipation. students were packed into the bleachers, layered in team colors, wrapped in oversized hoodies and thick scarves as they braced against the evening chill. your roommate was among them, no doubt beaming, wearing baekhyun’s number on her back like a badge of honor. but you—you were somewhere else in the stands. he didn’t have to look to know that. he always knew where you were.

baekhyun had been here a thousand times before. he knew how this worked. the game slowed, the stadium dimmed, the only thing in focus was the ball leaving the pitcher’s fingers, the sharp snap of it cutting through the air.

but tonight?

tonight, something was off.

the first pitch came, perfectly lined up, a ball he would have normally crushed—but he didn’t swing.

“strike one!”

the announcer’s voice echoed over the speakers, and the stands murmured, confused.

baekhyun barely heard them.

his eyes had flickered to the crowd out of instinct, a habit as natural as breathing. just a glance. just to find you.

except this time, you weren’t just watching the game.

you were talking to someone.

some guy he didn’t recognize. some guy standing too close, leaning in, saying something that made you laugh.

baekhyun exhaled sharply, adjusting his stance, rolling his shoulders as he tore his gaze away. it didn’t matter. it didn’t.

the next pitch came. another clean shot, another perfectly timed throw. he swung—too early, too fast, his mind lagging just half a second behind his body.

“strike two!”

gasps rippled through the crowd.

he never missed twice.

on the sidelines, his teammates tensed. chanyeol shifted, brows furrowed, watching baekhyun closely.

he could hear the murmurs, the sharp buzz of the commentators scrambling to make sense of it.

“i—i don’t think anyone was expecting that. baekhyun hasn’t struck out in—”

“two years,” the other commentator finished, voice stunned. “not once. he always gets on base. always makes a play. something’s definitely off tonight.”

baekhyun clenched his jaw, shoulders rolling with frustration.

focus. focus.

the pitcher wound up. baekhyun gripped the bat tighter, the leather of his gloves creaking from the force.

and then—he looked again.

just for a second.

just long enough to see that you were still smiling.

his grip faltered.

the pitch flew.

he swung.

he missed.

“strike three.”

silence.

for the first time since his freshman year, baekhyun walked away from the plate without even getting on base.

he ripped his helmet off and tossed it onto the bench with more force than necessary, the sharp crack of plastic against wood barely audible over the sound of his pulse hammering in his ears. his jaw clenched as he ran a hand through his damp hair, strands sticking to his forehead from a mix of sweat and frustration. he was pissed. not just because he struck out, but because he had no fucking idea why it happened.

“what the fuck was that?” sehun, one of his teammates muttered, but baekhyun didn’t respond. he barely even registered the question.

his knee bounced restlessly as he gripped his thigh, fingers flexing, curling into a tight fist. this wasn’t just a bad swing or a miscalculated pitch—it was something deeper, something wrong. he never missed like that. he never left the plate without getting on base. if he wasn’t hitting, he was stealing. if he wasn’t stealing, he was setting up a play. he was baekhyun, team captain, star hitter, the one they all counted on.

but tonight? tonight, he fucking struck out.

he forced out a slow breath, trying to shake it off, but his hands still felt clammy, his grip on the bat from earlier lingering like a phantom sensation. his body knew what to do—it always had—but his head had gotten in the way.

and he knew exactly why.

before he could stop himself, his eyes flickered toward the stands. it was instinct at this point, a reflex he never questioned—searching for you.

and there you were.

still sitting next to that guy.

baekhyun didn’t even know his name, didn’t fucking care to, but the way he was leaning in, talking too damn close, smiling like he had a shot? yeah, that shit wasn’t sitting right.

and worse?

you were smiling back.

baekhyun inhaled sharply, forcing his gaze away as he rolled out his shoulders, shaking his hands like it would somehow dispel the irritation seeping into his muscles.

he didn’t care.

he didn’t.

he wasn’t jealous.

he wasn’t.

but when his next at-bat came, the tension in his chest hadn’t faded. the stadium was alive again, the crowd roaring, the dugout shouting his name, hyping him up, but he barely heard them. instead, as he stepped up to the plate, adjusting his stance, his eyes flicked up to the stands.

and this time, you were already looking at him.

his grip on the bat tightened, something sharp curling in his chest as he took in the scene before him.

the guy? the one who had been so fucking eager to talk to you? he was still there, still trying, but you weren’t even paying attention anymore.

you were focused on him.

your lips were parted slightly, brows just barely furrowed, your expression unreadable—but baekhyun saw the difference. you weren’t distracted. you weren’t whispering back. you weren’t even sparing that guy a single glance.

you were watching him.

cheering for him.

was that… concern?

his lips curled before he could stop them, a slow, smug smirk creeping onto his face.

oh?

for someone who never liked showing emotions around him, who always kept your expression cool and unreadable, who refused to give him the satisfaction of ever knowing what was on your mind—you were concerned?

he was eating that shit up.

rolling his shoulders back, he adjusted his stance, shifting his weight on the balls of his feet as he relaxed his grip on the bat. focus settled in, sharp and honed, but this time, it wasn’t just about the game.

the next pitch came.

and this time, when he swung, he fucking crushed it.

the ball shot off his bat with a sickeningly perfect crack, sailing into the night sky, disappearing over the outfield fence before the opposing team even had a chance to react.

he barely needed to look. he already knew—from the way it felt, from the sheer force of it, from the way the stadium exploded around him.

out of the park. gone.

but baekhyun wasn’t paying attention to the crowd.

as he jogged the bases, rounding first, then second, then third, his gaze flickered up again—just once, just enough to catch your reaction.

and fuck.

you were still watching him.

your focus had never wavered.

that guy next to you? he wasn’t even fucking talking anymore.

baekhyun’s smirk widened, slow and sharp, satisfaction curling deep in his chest.

not at the home run.

not at the crowd.

at you.

the campus was electric after the win, energy pulsing through the streets like a heartbeat. students spilled out of dorms and lecture halls, laughter echoing off brick walls, jerseys tied around waists and team flags fluttering in the crisp night breeze. the sky was inky and clear, the air sharp with autumn chill, but no one seemed to care—everyone was high off adrenaline and school spirit, riding the afterglow of victory.

aeri had practically dragged you to the afterparty, her fingers looped through your wrist as she pulled you down the sidewalk in heels too high and a smile too smug. “just one drink, please—just one, i swear.” you’d only rolled your eyes. you knew better. there was never just one drink with her, especially not after a win, especially not when half the baseball team was throwing the party at their shared house.

the place was already packed when you got there, the bass from the speakers thudding through the walls and into your bones. warm light spilled from every window, hazy and golden, casting silhouettes of moving bodies pressed together in the living room. the air inside was thick with heat and humidity, layered with the scent of cheap beer, sugary mixers, and something faintly floral—perfume maybe, or someone's body spray clinging to the corners of the room.

you ended up in the kitchen, drink in hand, leaning back against the counter while half-listening to the guy from your business class drone on about internship interviews and portfolio-building. same guy who’d tagged along with you and aeri to the game earlier, sitting a little too close in the stands, tossing you comments that were probably meant to be charming but barely registered over the noise.

it was fine. he was cute—tall, kind of soft around the edges, with a mop of dark hair that fell into his eyes when he laughed. he talked a lot, but you didn’t mind. it was easier to nod along and sip your drink than fight your way through the crowd to find aeri again. besides, his presence was harmless—background noise at best, a distraction at worst.

but still, as you tilted your glass to your lips and let the burn settle on your tongue, you couldn’t help but glance toward the doorway. and you weren’t sure what you were looking for. or who.

you smiled, nodding politely as he made some joke about late-night study sessions, your glass cool in your hand, condensation dripping lazily down your fingers. you even laughed a little when he leaned in closer, voice dropping slightly as he said something about how the real test of college was surviving group projects without committing murder. his cologne was too sharp, his proximity a little too eager, but you kept the polite grin on your face anyway.

you weren’t really listening. not fully.

and then—you felt it.

that slow, creeping shift in the air. the kind of heaviness that wrapped itself around you like static. a pressure. a pull.

you didn’t turn right away, letting the sensation simmer beneath your skin, letting it coil down your spine like a warning. the heat of the gaze settled over you like a slow burn, prickling at the back of your neck until it became impossible to ignore.

and then—finally—you looked.

baekhyun.

leaning lazily against the doorway like he owned the place, one hand shoved in the pocket of his grey sweatpants, the other wrapped around the neck of a half-empty beer bottle. his dark eyes were locked on you, unreadable, sharp, cutting straight through the noise around you.

his hair was still damp from his post-game shower, messy strands falling carelessly across his forehead. his black t-shirt clung to his chest just right, sleeves pushed slightly up his arms, veins in his forearm faintly visible beneath warm-toned skin. he looked effortlessly good. annoyingly good.

and annoyed.

he didn’t say anything at first. just looked. and then—his eyes shifted.

just once.

to the guy beside you.

and it wasn’t subtle.

a single glance—sharp, pointed, laced with that specific kind of territorial, fuck-off-before-i-make-you energy that didn’t need to be spoken aloud.

the guy next to you faltered mid-sentence, chuckled awkwardly, then glanced at baekhyun like he suddenly remembered somewhere else he needed to be. he mumbled something about finding his friends before excusing himself and disappearing into the crowd so fast it was almost impressive.

you blinked, watching him vanish, then turned back to baekhyun, brows raised. “wow,” you said dryly, lifting your glass in a small toast. “been tryna do that all night.”

baekhyun smirked, stepping in closer now, his presence cutting through the space the other guy had left behind.

“thought you weren’t coming,” he said, voice low and casual, but his gaze still lingered—on your face, on your lips, like he was trying to decide something.

“changed my mind,” you replied smoothly, taking a slow sip of your drink.

he tilted his head, eyes scanning you deliberately, like he was trying to read between your lines.

“must be my lucky night,” he said, voice curling around the words like a secret.

you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or the look in his eyes, but suddenly, the room felt a little too warm.

you scoffed. “don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“there she is.”

you turned just as chanyeol appeared, towering over both of you, a lopsided grin stretched across his face, his eyes flicking between you and baekhyun like he’d just walked into something interesting. something he wasn’t supposed to see—but definitely wanted to.

he reached past baekhyun to grab a drink off the counter, shoulder brushing his just a little too casually. “you left me hanging,” he said, flashing you a playful pout. “thought we were partners, but you didn’t even text me back after class.”

you laughed, the sound slipping out effortlessly, light and unbothered. chanyeol was fun. warm. easy to be around in a way that didn’t ask for anything more than you were willing to give.

“busy,” you replied breezily, swirling the ice in your cup. “but don’t worry, chanyeol. i wouldn’t abandon my partner.”

off to the side, baekhyun exhaled sharply through his nose.

you didn’t notice.

chanyeol leaned in a little more, clearly enjoying himself—maybe oblivious, maybe not. “good,” he said, tone playful but edged with something more. “because i was thinking… we should start testing our project theories this weekend.”

your lips curved at the corners, eyes narrowing just slightly in amusement. “yeah?”

you weren’t blind. chanyeol was attractive—tall, broad-shouldered, that boyish charm with just enough flirtation to keep you entertained. and you liked him. not in a deep, tangled way, but in a this could be fun kind of way.

you tilted your head, letting your gaze drag slowly over him. why not?

but then—

baekhyun’s grip on his beer bottle tightened, fingers curling around the neck until his knuckles paled.

his eyes darkened, gaze heavy and unreadable as he watched the way chanyeol leaned closer.

his jaw clenched—just subtly, just enough to shift the angles of his face from sharp to severe.

and you didn’t even see it.

because right now, all you were thinking about was how chanyeol’s voice dipped a little lower, how his smile was soft, how his eyes lingered on your mouth when you laughed.

“sounds good to me,” you said, voice smooth as satin, tipping your glass toward him with a lazy grin.

and baekhyun felt it like a punch to the chest.

baekhyun hated this.

he hated that in college, you chose to keep your history with him buried—tucked away behind careful deflections and vague answers, pretending like he was just a casual friend you met last semester in some random elective. he hated the way you downplayed everything you’d grown up sharing, like your lives hadn’t been intertwined since you were in diapers, like he hadn’t been the one pulling you away from boring gala speeches and sneaking you bites of cake at family events before you even had your baby teeth.

he understood it, in theory. you already had your last name—the legacy, the weight, the whispers that followed you into every room. he knew you didn’t want to be tied to him on top of that. not in the public way. not when everything about you was already watched, picked apart, dissected by people who didn’t even know you.

but it didn’t stop it from stinging.

it didn’t stop him from clenching his jaw every time he overheard some frat boy talking about you in the dining hall. didn’t stop the way his fists curled when he caught another guy lingering too long at your table, trying to make you laugh. it burned in his chest—the idea of anyone else thinking they had a shot, thinking they could get close to you like he did. like they could ever even understand you.

and what pissed him off the most was how it wasn’t just random guys. it was also chanyeol. his own fucking teammate.

he hated the way chanyeol talked about you—lighthearted, sure, but never innocent.

“bunny looked good at the game today,” he’d say with a grin, like he didn’t know exactly what kind of reaction that name would pull out of baekhyun. like he didn’t notice the way baekhyun’s entire expression would shift—eyes narrowing, jaw twitching, shoulders stiffening under his jersey.

bunny.

the name had started years ago. a nickname passed between your families, coined when you were little and soft-cheeked and bright-eyed, always clinging to baekhyun’s sleeve like a shadow. your mom called you that. his parents called you that. he called you that—whispered it teasingly when he tugged on your braids, called it out when he chased you down sandy beaches, murmured it low and sweet when you fell asleep on his shoulder in the back of your family’s vacation car.

now everyone used it. friends. classmates. even chanyeol.

and baekhyun hated how casually it rolled off their tongues, like it didn’t mean anything, like it wasn’t soaked in history—his history.

he was a year older than you, but sometimes it felt like he’d lived an entire lifetime with you already. and now he had to stand back, watch you pretend like you were nothing more than acquaintances, watch other people try to lay claim to a name, a smile, a softness that used to be just his.

and every time he saw you from across the quad, laughing with someone else, tossing your hair over your shoulder while some guy tried to flirt his way into your space, he’d feel it again.

that sharp, possessive ache in his chest.

that furious, burning thought he could never quite shake.

the backyard is buzzing—sun-drenched and loud, filled with the sound of music spilling from inside the house, the low hum of conversation, and the occasional clink of drinks being passed around. the grass beneath your feet is slightly overgrown, patchy in places from too many parties and not enough maintenance, but no one cares. string lights hang loosely overhead, swaying in the warm breeze, casting soft golden halos over the crowd. red solo cups litter the patio furniture, and someone’s bluetooth speaker keeps skipping, but the vibe is easy, carefree.

everywhere around you, people are laughing, talking, drinking under the sticky weight of the late-summer heat.

but baekhyun?

he’s a fucking storm cloud in the middle of a sunny day.

the tension starts in his jaw, a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth, then spreads down his neck to his shoulders—tight, rigid, all coiled frustration and poorly concealed irritation. the usual relaxed slouch in his posture is gone, replaced with barely-contained stiffness, like he’s holding himself back from saying or doing something he’ll regret.

he’s sitting near the fence line, perched on the edge of an old patio chair that creaks under his weight, sunglasses pushed low on the bridge of his nose. they do nothing to hide the growing scowl etched into his features, or the way his eyes keep flicking toward the other side of the yard. his fingers drum against the side of his cup, not in rhythm to the music, but like a nervous tic.

and across the yard—just a few steps too far away—you’re standing beside chanyeol, a drink in your hand, laughing at something he’s saying. you’re leaning in a little too close, eyes bright, your expression wide open and effortlessly captivated. chanyeol’s mid-story, gesturing wildly with his hands, all dramatic flair and exaggerated enthusiasm.

and you’re eating it up.

baekhyun watches you laugh again—head tilted back, mouth parted, the kind of laugh he hasn’t heard from you in weeks. something bitter and hot curls in his stomach. what the fuck is so funny? what could chanyeol possibly be saying that makes you smile like that?

his grip tightens around his drink until the cup creaks slightly under the pressure, knuckles pale beneath the condensation.

why don’t you ever look at him like that anymore?

kyungsoo watches it all unfold from a shaded lounger beneath a crooked patio umbrella, one leg crossed lazily over the other, his drink sweating in his hand. he brings the cup to his lips, eyes narrowed behind his sunglasses, trailing over to baekhyun with a slow, knowing look.

he doesn’t miss the way baekhyun’s knee bounces in agitation, or the way he hasn’t stopped staring at you and chanyeol since the moment you walked out into the yard together.

“you’re staring again,” kyungsoo says, his voice low, calm, but sharp enough to slice through the tension.

baekhyun jerks slightly, blinking like he’s been caught mid-crime. his glare cuts toward kyungsoo, biting and defensive. “fuck off,” he mutters, but it lands weakly, laced with a frustration he’s trying—and failing—to mask.

his ears are pink. his cheeks, flushed. the heat isn’t helping, but it’s not just the weather. kyungsoo’s lips twitch around the rim of his cup, because he knows exactly what that stupid flush means.

and then, just as baekhyun glances back toward you—again—chanyeol throws his head back laughing at his own punchline, hand brushing yours casually as he leans closer.

baekhyun’s entire body tenses.

he doesn’t say a word, but the look he shoots in chanyeol’s direction is searing—sharp, territorial, unmistakably clear: back the fuck off.

and of course, chanyeol doesn’t notice. or maybe he does, and he just doesn’t care.

baekhyun exhales through his nose, slow and controlled, trying to keep his cool. but it’s a losing battle.

because all he can think is that you’re his bunny. the nickname your families gave you when you were still too small to reach the counters, when you followed him around everywhere with wide eyes and soft giggles. now, everyone uses it—your friends, his teammates, even fucking chanyeol.

but baekhyun remembers what it really means. what it used to mean.

and watching you smile at someone else like that?

yeah. it’s fucking unbearable.

finally, unable to swallow it any longer, baekhyun snaps, his voice cutting through the conversation, sharp and biting. “hey, losers, you forget the rest of us are here, too?” his tone is more petulant than anything resembling maturity, like a child throwing a tantrum, and it hangs in the air like a challenge.

chanyeol lets out a snort, turning just enough to shoot baekhyun a sly, amused glance. “aawww, what’s the matter, baekhyun? feelin’ left out?” his grin stretches impossibly wide, smug and infuriating, as if it were specifically designed to make baekhyun’s face flush an even deeper red.

kyungsoo, sitting to the side, doesn’t even try to mask his amusement. he’s barely holding it together, his drink spilling from his lips as he stifles a laugh at baekhyun’s visible discomfort, clearly enjoying the show as baekhyun digs himself deeper into the pit of his own jealousy.

chanyeol leans in just a little closer to you, nudging his shoulder against yours playfully. his grin widens, and his eyes gleam with mischief as he glances at baekhyun, then back at you. the spark of jealousy radiating from baekhyun is almost palpable. “sorry, but we’re not interested in adding another,” chanyeol teases, his voice light, but dripping with playful challenge. he shoots baekhyun another knowing glance before adding, “ever heard of 'three's a crowd'?”

baekhyun’s face, already flushed with frustration, is now on fire—blushing not just with anger, but with something else, something deeper. his entire face burns red, and it creeps down his neck, his ears turning a shade darker as his throat tightens. you can feel the tension building, thick in the air, and it’s impossible to ignore. baekhyun is caught in a storm of emotions, and he’s fighting to keep it all together. his usual scowl has evaporated, replaced by something raw and uncertain. it’s clear now: baekhyun doesn’t know how to navigate this—this feeling, this jealousy, whatever it is that’s eating at him.

but that’s not what finally sends baekhyun spiraling. no, it’s when chanyeol, with that smug grin that baekhyun already wants to slap off his face, casually reaches up to tuck a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. his fingertips graze your skin, featherlight and deliberate, and then—because of course he can’t just stop there—he leans in, whispering something that makes you laugh.

and it’s that laugh. that laugh. the one baekhyun has always claimed as his, the one that feels like sunlight piercing through storm clouds, the one that’s always made him feel like he’s the center of your universe. but now, it’s chanyeol—of all fucking people, his insufferable co-captain on their university’s baseball team—ripping it from your lips, and baekhyun feels like he’s unraveling.

no matter how many times he tells himself it’s nothing, that you're allowed to laugh at someone else’s joke, the knot in his chest only tightens. every time your eyes light up at chanyeol’s words, that rush of possessiveness cuts through him like a hot knife, burning at the back of his throat. it’s irrational, twisted, and completely unnecessary, but it doesn’t change how it feels. he can’t shake the raw sting of jealousy, the sharp, desperate urge to pull you back, to make that laugh his again.

he tells himself he’s overreacting, but the twist in his stomach, the way his hands flex with the need to do something, anything, tells him otherwise. it’s possessive, primal, and no matter how hard he tries to fight it, it’s completely consuming him. and he’s losing control.

kyungsoo notices it before anyone else—the way baekhyun's tension is reaching its breaking point. his clenched fists, the color draining from his face as frustration swirls in his eyes. he’s on the edge, and kyungsoo can practically feel the storm brewing. sehun, just emerging from the kitchen with a cooler packed with more beers and seltzers, plops down onto the lounger beside him, a grin tugging at his lips as he observes the scene unfolding.

“baekhyun’s finally losin’ it, huh?” sehun muses. with a slow, deliberate movement, he cracks open a can of beer, the hiss slicing through the thick summer air. lifting it to his lips, he takes a lazy sip before fanning his jersey, trying to cool off from the humidity clinging to everything like a second skin. his white baseball pants are still streaked with dirt from the game, but he’s far more interested in the mess unraveling across the yard.

kyungsoo, lounging in the chair beside him, doesn’t even bother looking up. he’s already noticed—already clocked the way baekhyun has been stiff and brooding ever since you and chanyeol started talking. he takes a slow sip of his drink, eyes still on the cup as he mutters, “he’s been losing it. this is just rock bottom.”

baekhyun hears them. he knows they’re watching him, knows exactly what they’re thinking, and yet, when kyungsoo finally calls him out—“bro your ears are turning red.”—his whole body stiffens.

baekhyun knows it too. he can feel the heat creeping up his neck, the telltale flush spreading over his skin. his jaw clenches even tighter, his lips pressing into a thin line, but it’s useless—there’s no hiding it. no covering up the pink dusting his cheeks, the way his entire body is betraying him in real-time.

he hates that kyungsoo can see right through him. hates it even more that sehun is watching with that smug, entertained grin, nodding along in agreement.

but what he really hates—what really eats at him—is that you haven’t even noticed.

too wrapped up in whatever chanyeol is saying, too busy laughing, too distracted to see that baekhyun is coming apart at the seams, jealousy gnawing at him like a wildfire he can’t put out.

kyungsoo glances at baekhyun before casually suggesting, “hey, i think we need to go on another beer run. we can take my car.” his voice is steady, but there’s a hint of urgency in it, a silent plea to get baekhyun out of there before things escalate with chanyeol.

baekhyun, already on the verge of snapping, opening his mouth to tell kyungsoo to fuck off yet again and leave him to deal with it, but then you cut through the air with your voice, interrupting chanyeol mid-sentence. “ooh! can i come with? we could really use some chips and dip. these kinda parties never really have anything to snack on.”

baekhyun freezes for a moment, his attention snapping to you. without a second thought, his ears flick as if he’s been pulled out of a trance. he snatches the keys from kyungsoo’s hand with a decisive motion, his grip firm. without uttering another word, he grabs your hand, his fingers curling around yours as he tugs you toward the side gate, the tension in his body still palpable.

he doesn't even glance back.

the car ride is steeped in tension, the air thick with unspoken energy, but baekhyun and kyungsoo wear their sunglasses like armor—like it’s just another night, like they haven’t been passing a joint between them on the back balcony of the party not even an hour ago.

baekhyun looks effortlessly cool in the driver’s seat—one arm draped over the door, fingers tapping lightly against the leather, sunglasses still perched low on his nose despite the fact that it’s long past sunset. the passing streetlights cast shifting shadows across his face, accentuating the sharp cut of his jaw, the barely concealed irritation tightening his mouth. on the surface, he looks calm. collected. like nothing is getting to him.

but the signs are there.

the flex of his jaw. the death grip on the wheel. the way his foot presses just a little too hard on the gas with every turn, like he’s trying to outrun whatever’s clawing at the edges of his mind.

kyungsoo, on the other hand, is the picture of relaxation, stretched out in the passenger seat, arms crossed as he leans back against the black leather. his own dark-lensed sunglasses sit comfortably on the bridge of his nose, his expression unreadable, but there’s a smirk tugging faintly at the corner of his lips. he’s watching the night unfold like it’s a private screening of a film he’s already seen the ending to—one he finds mildly entertaining but has no plans of interfering with.

no one ever questioned the sunglasses. if anything, they only added to the aura—made them look untouchable, a little too cool, a little too self-assured. dangerous, even.

but the truth?

they just didn’t want anyone to clock how fucking high they still were.

because baekhyun’s eyes always gave him away—just slightly pink-rimmed, a little too glassy, the kind of look that made people notice. kyungsoo was better at hiding it, but even he wasn’t immune to the occasional slow blink, the slight heaviness in his limbs when he was feeling good.

so the sunglasses stayed on.

and as baekhyun navigates the quiet streets, frustration simmering beneath his skin, kyungsoo watching with quiet amusement, and you—completely oblivious in the backseat, stretching your legs out lazily—neither of them say a damn thing about it.

the weed might have worn off.

but the tension?

yeah, that was only getting worse.

you’re in the back, relaxed, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, scrolling through your phone, completely oblivious to the slow burn unraveling in the front seat. you toss your phone onto your lap with a sigh, then shift slightly—your knee brushing against baekhyun’s arm for half a second as you stretch forward.

his fingers twitch around the steering wheel. just that light contact, so casual and thoughtless on your end, short-circuits something in him.

“so,” you start, your voice lazy and light, unaware of the ticking time bomb beside you. “chanyeol’s actually kinda cute, huh?”

the silence that follows is instant and loud.

kyungsoo shifts in his seat, lips twitching as he shoots baekhyun a sidelong glance, like he’s been waiting for this moment to drop. he doesn’t say anything, just leans his elbow against the window and watches.

baekhyun doesn’t respond at first. his jaw ticks, his knuckles whitening around the steering wheel. his expression remains still, but the energy rolling off him is sharp enough to slice glass.

you blink at the silence. “what?”

he inhales slowly through his nose, the sound tight and clipped. “he flirts with everyone,” he mutters, voice low, controlled, but edged with a bitterness that you don’t quite catch.

you tilt your head, confused. “huh?”

“chanyeol,” baekhyun bites, voice harder this time as he suddenly yanks the wheel a little too sharply, turning into the convenience store parking lot with just a bit too much force. the car glides into an empty space, tires grinding slightly against the curb. “he flirts with everyone. it’s not special.”

you blink at him, surprised by the sudden edge in his tone. “i didn’t say it was special… just said he’s cute.”

he slams the gear shift into park, the movement sharp and impatient. his hands finally drop from the wheel, but his fingers tap restlessly against his thigh, twitchy and unsettled like he’s holding back something heavier.

kyungsoo, meanwhile, is living for it. he stretches lazily, arms lifting over his head, before reaching for his seatbelt and clicking it loose. “this is fun,” he drawls, amused, eyes flicking toward baekhyun with a knowing smirk. “we should go on beer runs more often.”

baekhyun shoots him a glare that could incinerate metal, but kyungsoo only shrugs and steps out, completely unfazed.

you glance over at him, brow slightly furrowed. “are you good?”

his jaw clenches harder, his gaze fixed on the dashboard like it might help him collect himself. there's a long pause—too long. and then he mutters, almost under his breath, “it’s nothing.”

but the words are laced with tension, so bitter and strained they barely sound like nothing at all.

from the passenger side, kyungsoo snorts quietly, already reaching for the door handle. “yeah,” he says dryly, pushing the door open, “sure it’s nothing.”

he climbs out, the door clicking shut behind him with finality.

baekhyun stays in his seat a moment longer, jaw locked, eyes dark, hand still resting on the gearshift like it’s grounding him. he doesn’t move. doesn’t speak.

you glance at him again, unsure. he looks wound tight, like something is coiled up beneath his skin just waiting to snap.

maybe it really was the game. maybe he’s just tired.

you have no idea it’s you.

the store is nearly empty, save for a tired-looking cashier scrolling through their phone behind the counter and a couple of college kids lingering by the candy aisle. the fluorescent lights hum softly, casting a slightly too-bright glow over the linoleum floors. the air smells faintly of stale coffee and artificial citrus from a mop bucket abandoned in the corner.

baekhyun is ahead of you, walking with purpose down the refrigerated aisle, scanning the selection of beer with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his gray sweats. kyungsoo, unbothered as ever, lags behind, still in his baseball uniform from earlier—jersey unbuttoned halfway, exposing the silver chain resting against his collarbones. his cap, flipped backward, sits snug on his head, a few strands of dark hair peeking out. his eyes are a little hazy, glazed over from the joint he and baekhyun smoked at the start of the party, but he’s still sharp, watching, always observing.

and, yeah. he looks good.

kyungsoo has always been attractive, in that effortless, brooding way that comes naturally to him. he’s quiet, but not shy—has this intimidating aura that makes people think twice before talking to him, only for them to realize he’s actually just dry as hell with the best one-liners you’ll ever hear.

if he wasn’t baekhyun’s best friend, if they hadn’t met during freshman year tryouts—baekhyun already on the team, of course, because of course he’d made it straight away, thick as thieves by the end of the first week and inseparable ever since—you might have tried your luck with him.

but baekhyun’s your best friend, too.

and crossing boundaries, even unspoken ones, has never been your style.

so you keep your mouth shut, trailing after them as baekhyun slows in front of the coolers, shoulders still tense, brows furrowed like he’s actually analyzing his beer selection instead of seething about something else entirely.

he’s been off ever since you got in the car.

and, yeah, you could ignore it—pretend like you don’t notice, let him sulk in whatever weird mood he’s in. but something about the way he’s so quiet tonight, the way he hasn’t thrown a single sarcastic remark your way, rubs you the wrong way.

so, instead of letting it go, you take a step closer, nudging your hip against his as you reach past him for a six-pack.

without thinking, you step closer, watching as he tosses the case into the basket resting in his other arm. “you okay?” you ask, keeping your tone casual as you lean against the edge of the cooler. “you’ve been so weird since we left the party.”

“i’m fine.”

you roll your eyes. “sure you are.”

baekhyun exhales through his nose, slow and controlled, before turning back to the fridge, grabbing the first case of beer he sees.

“why so grumpy, b?” you ask, brows furrowing slightly as you lean forward, your tone light but laced with genuine curiosity. there’s a playful tug at your lips, but you’re honestly a little confused by the way he’s been sulking all night, shoulders tense, eyes sharp.

“is it ‘cause you struck out during the game?” you tease, voice dipping into something softer—half-joking, half-wondering if that’s really what’s eating at him.

you pause, tilting your head. “you guys won anyway.”

you mean it, too—because they did. the scoreboard was still burned into your memory, the energy in the stadium electric, the crowd wild with celebration. baekhyun had more than made up for that strikeout with his later home run, and everyone knew it.

but still, he looks at you like you’ve just said the wrongest thing imaginable. his jaw flexes, tongue pressing to the inside of his cheek, and he doesn’t say anything right away.

kyungsoo, who had been inspecting a shelf of overpriced trail mix a few feet away, glances over with mild amusement, eyes still half-lidded from the high. “damn,” he muses, popping a chip into his mouth. “she’s got a point, b. that was a pretty tragic at-bat, man.”

baekhyun pauses for half a second, his fingers tightening around the basket handle. but then he lets out a dry chuckle, shaking his head as he finally turns toward you.

“wow,” he muses, voice light but edged with something you can’t quite place. “thanks for bringing that up. really appreciate it, bun.”

you blink, taken aback. “i wasn’t—”

he exhales sharply, cutting you off. “it’s not about the fucking game.”

“then what is it?”

his eyes flick to you, dark and unreadable under the harsh store lights. for a moment, it almost looks like he’s going to say something, like he’s teetering on the edge of admitting whatever is clawing at his chest.

but then—

he scoffs, shaking his head before brushing past you.

“nothing,” he mutters. “forget it.”

you watch as he moves toward the counter, placing the basket down with a little more force than necessary. kyungsoo appears beside you then, arms full of snacks, clearly having caught the tail end of the exchange.

he raises an eyebrow, glancing between you and baekhyun before nudging your arm with a bag of chips. “still don’t get it, huh?”

you huff, crossing your arms as you glance toward baekhyun’s back, irritation flickering in your chest. “no, and apparently, i’m not allowed to.”

kyungsoo just chuckles, shaking his head as he follows baekhyun to the counter.

you stand there for a second, staring at baekhyun’s tense posture, the way his fingers drum against the countertop impatiently as he waits for the cashier to ring everything up.

whatever this is, whatever’s been eating at him all night, it’s not the game.

but if it’s not that…then what the hell is it?

#baekhyun #baekhyun smut #baekhyun x reader #baekhyun fic #baekhyun series #baekhyun imagine #exo x reader #exo fic #exo series #exo imagine #loverboy #lisawrites

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soobadnoonecanstopher · 2 years ago

Text

Can I Stay? (A Baekhyun Story) Part 8.

Pairing: You x Baekhyun

Rating: M (SMUT - Mature Content) (Don't read this at work or in public or at church or in class)

Word Count: 6.6k

Warnings: Here today for your consideration is some graphic smut. Idk anymore. Agonizing smut. Edging. Power Play. PWP. We don't need to live like this, but this is how this chapter happened, someone told me to make it long so here we fuckin are guys. Anyway don't forget to drink water and clench as you read this.

A romance between two adults with an unspecified age difference between them, an English story that uses the word Noona for lack of another word in English that carries the same feeling, if you don’t like this, then don’t read this story.

Author‘s note: remember all those years ago I said I’d write a Baekhyun x Noona fic? This is that fic.

Inspired by the Ray LaMontagne songs Can I Stay

Thank you @his-mochi-cheeks for making the story poster featuring Baekhyun’s outfit in this chapter. Additional Tag for @andimoon

Links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

��When can I see you again?’

‘I need to see you again”

With a slow and deliberate agonizing pull of his dark eyes, he ran them up the entire length of your body before setting them down devastatingly deep inside of your eyes and there was no longer any breath left in your body that could fight the dizziness you felt under his gaze.

Inside of his eyes a flame was ablaze and you, and you, and every single bit of you, was burning.

Baekhyun was at your doorway with a hand in his pocket; looking absolutely nothing like your prim and proper Personal Assistant usually did. Gone was the professional suit and tie and here he stood in front of you looking more casual than you had ever seen him. This was day-off Byun Baekhyun. He leaned against the doorframe with colorful sneakers on his feet and on his lower half wearing a pair of well fitted jeans with what had to be very trendy holes ripped right through the knees. The holes were large and dramatic. You could make out the soft flesh of his inner knee and on the right leg, you even saw some of his soft upper thigh. What were these jeans?

Your eyes seemed to act on their own accord as you took him in, pausing your journey just about thigh level to let out an appreciative exhale because of simply how good this man’s thighs looked in these jeans. On his broad chest he wore a soft and well-worn red hoodie. He looked younger like this. His face was already very youthful for his age but dressed like this? He could pass for a college student in this sweater and in these jeans.

You tried. You really tried not to let your eyes linger for too long over the middle zipper section of him. But the man was wearing a belt — the accent in the middle kind of caught your eyes and despite all of your mental gymnastics to get your eyes to move up into his face right now, you knew that the belt was black. You knew that he had the buckle fastened through the third hole in the leather and you knew that the buckle was silver and had a brushed metal texture to it. You had lingered here for too long. My god, you could identify it in a police lineup if you had to. The belt as well as the bulge of fabric; the well filled out denim below the belt. The parts of him that occupied far more of your mind than you’d ever admit outloud to anyone. You had intimate knowledge of the power he held over you. You’d slept with him exactly twice; both times in the well concealed darkness of your bedroom and still, still knew the man and every single but of him was gorgeous.

You were positive that you were ogling him for too long but if he had any thoughts about the way you took him in he certainly wasn’t speaking on it.

When you finally made it through, when the breath that seemed to be stuck halfway through your windpipe finally made its way out and your eyes finally touched on the edges of his face enough for you to catch the tip of his tongue that moistened his bottom lip a half second before his teeth bit down on that wet lip. It was such a brief action but your mind flashed a memory of those teeth biting down hard on to the soft skin of your neck. Those teeth that brought just a bit of pain and that mouth that sucked hard enough to bruise your flesh.

This mark remained on you at this very moment and it took every bit of strength left inside of you not to lift a hand and touch the spot with your fingertips.

You shouldn’t do such a thing. You were being watched.

His eyes watched you. You’d made it this far. You’d reached his eyes and when you pulled your own into his there was a shift in his pupils to finally have your focus, to finally be looking into his face instead of feasting all over his crotch like you had been doing.

Were you caught?

He had a smile on his face and you could see a narrowing of his eyelids, a microscopic tick of a single eyebrow over one of his eyes and his smile pulled just a tiny bit wider.

You probably should do something.

“Hi,” you managed weakly and his smile pulled brighter, showing his teeth for a moment.

“Hi,” his lips parted with his whispered response. His head tilted toward the door frame he was leaning on. That one word; just a repetition of your own inadequate greeting but somehow in his voice and said so softly it seemed to jostle every bit of the fondness you had for him and it sent a burst of sweet bubbles to your surface. The sweet feelings and tiny gestures and the delicate kisses and the sleepy whispers, they all floated up and one by one each made a tiny pop, pop, pop, breaking whatever excuse for surface tension you had tricked yourself into believing you could still hold on to.

What did normal people do when they had a visitor?

You stepped aside; your legs teetering just a little unsteadily, holding the door open for him to enter and also for your own balance and at last his weight shifted off of the doorframe and he took a quiet step inside.

You could breathe at last. He was finally aiming his eyes at something other than you as he looked down at his feet to push his shoes off.

You could feel the newness of this making your nerves misbehave.

Your brand new out-of-the-box boyfriend had suddenly stopped by your house and it was getting dark outside. As far as you knew he was supposed to have been busy all day. The boys’ music class and then dinner with his parents and then… he would have been tired after his day. He would maybe want to go home and rest.

Your mind reached back to his text message. You’d been longing for his company again back when you read it but now your nerves had a hold of you and his messages’ crystal clear meaning from before his arrival was beginning to cloud over just a bit. What if you had been wrong?

What if he actually had some other reason why he had to see you.

What if something had changed or what if something happened with the dinner with his parents? What if that dinner had turned into a business discussion about his future in the company and how he couldn’t waste away his precious days working as your assistant. What if this was a farewell visit; or worse a break up visit?

Were you jumping to conclusions about the reason for his sudden visit and assuming he wanted what you also wanted? What you knew for a fact right now is that you were definitely overthinking this.

The uncertainty had you crossing your arms over your chest and looking down the length of your bare legs. You pointed a freshly painted toe nail forward and absentmindedly tapped against the kitchen island beside the entryway of your home.

“So what did you need to see me about?” The question sounded innocent enough in your head but when it came out of your own mouth you could hear the confrontational tone. It made you wince. You hadn’t meant to sound this way. Out of habit, to recover just a little bit of your own pride, you straightened your shoulders and lifted your chin. It was an act of self preservation. You were a mess of a mix between a hopeful girlfriend and a nagging team manager and something told you the later one was not what you were supposed to be acting like right now.

Your stupid question was out though and there was no putting it back in. You held your breath and you braced for the answer.

Baekhyun had been making his way into your kitchen and his forward progress stalled when he heard your question. Did he feel your nerves through your words or had your business-like tone taken front and center stage?

He didn’t answer quickly and instead took a few more steps past where you stood your ground and you saw the tiny head shake as he looked back at you with his lips parted.

“Oh, uhh...” his voice began to speak but he stopped again, “I uhhh…” The man didn’t usually struggle with his words. Had you somehow infected him with your nerves? Was it the crossed arms and the manager’s tone of voice? You felt a flash of guilt for it.

Baekhyun exhaled and his eyes closed up.

“I sat outside for thirty minutes and I couldn’t come up with an excuse for being here.” His lips pulled into a wince and he peaked one eye open to look at you.

“I should be at home right now, but my car seemed to drive me here.” Your own smile betrayed you and when he saw it his other eye pulled open. He was adorable. His quiet confession made your heart leap.

“Nothing? No ‘My cell service is out and I had to deliver this important message’ or ‘We have this important client meeting tomorrow and you need to be aware of this detail that only I know.’ You couldn't come up with one little thing?” You simply could not help the teasing now. This was just too much fun. He was adorable.

You hadn’t read his messages wrong. All at once you felt the nerves burst and vanish and he smiled wider as he shook his head.

“I am definitely not here for work, Noona.” He stood just out of reach in that bright red hoodie wearing those jeans and he slipped a hand into his front pocket again, fidgeting with his keys or his phone or whatever it was he did when he was just a little bit anxious.

“So what are you here for then, Baekhyun?” You’d long since dropped your arms and they hung at your side.

His easy smile flattened out, vanishing from his face and he looked into your eyes, watching the shift in your face and recognizing the change in your tone easily.

Something different was brewing inside of your chest that had replaced the silly anxiousness you felt earlier. It had you taking the smallest step closer to him when you asked your brazen question.

This new feeling, a mirror of that which fueled your fingers to text him to tell him to come over, it had you lifting your eyes up from his lips where you’d just watched the nervous way his tongue darted out, your eyebrow bounced over your eye to see it, and when you’d pulled your eyes back up you did it slowly enough that there was zero doubt between the two of you that he had seen it.

This man, this beautiful, glorious, amazingly competent-in-all-ways man, was watching your face with his lips parted and with his words caught up inside his mouth. This man looked nervous right now, inside your home with you looking into his eyes waiting very patiently for his explanations for why he had to see you so urgently tonight.

So far he had none that he dared speak out loud.

You knew this might not be completely fair but it sure was fun watching the man who always had something to say about everything ever, finally at a loss for words.

What would it take to pull those words out of him.

You reached for the top button of the shirt you wore. It was a loose and flowy top and you knew it would only take one button for the shoulder to fall off. You knew the bruise he’d made with his mouth would be visible. You knew the lacy bra you wore would also not be very well concealed and just one more button would bring the view of the soft mounds of your breasts before him. You were on a roll with one button and you were unstoppable with the second button.

Of course his eyes touched below your neck, of course he saw the mark and of course his eyes looked down to the glimpse of your exposed bra. With his eyes having a look he bit down in his lip and you heard the rough exhale through his nose.

And he was in motion. His hand lifted to rub through his hair and another hand lifted to rub over his face and he physically reeled standing right here just out of your reach and with about as much pent up energy inside of his body as you felt inside of your own.

“You,” he lifted a lazy hand in your general direction, waving his slim fingers at you, “I — did not only come here for that. I also wanted to make sure you were okay after yesterday, I swear.”

He spilled the words out quickly and pulled his lips in between his teeth as he lifted an oh so innocent hand to lay over his chest as he did his very best to convince you of his noble intentions for coming here tonight. It made you grin. You couldn’t stop it.

The smile on your face was knowing. While you appreciated his concern you were very clearly just fine. And that wasn’t the part you wanted to get to the bottom of. You raised an eyebrow and dropped your voice an octave and you slowly asked your next question.

“You didn’t only come here for what, Baekhyun?”

You whispered in response, needing him to use the words himself out loud before you exploded right here in the space between your entryway and your kitchen. You wanted him to speak openly and honestly with you. You needed to know if he wanted to use you tonight as badly as you wanted to use him tonight.

His eyes were steady on you and you looked at him, mustering all of your experience from your most intense professional negotiations. You steeled your mouth shut and lifted your eyebrows in his direction with a tiny raise of your chin.

He watched your face. His breathing seemed to grow heavier and he seemed to war with himself inside his own head for a few breaths if it.

After a moment his head ticked upward and the look in his eyes grew darker.

“Okay,” he said and his lips hung open after the word came out. A decision it seemed had been reached.

“Okay, fine.” He took a step, it was a big one and you miraculously stood your ground as he moved in.

You did have to close your eyes for a second as he closed in on you. You’d asked for this. And when you felt the warmth of his breath against your face he was so close to you now that even with your eyes open, the pretty features of his face were a blur.

More than his hot breath on you, his hands had come too, those slim fingers ran a path along your neck, slipping his slow moving fingertips over the bruise. You knew his eyes would be feasting on the sight of where he had marked you as his own.

“You want to know why I came?” His hand moved now and you gasped to feel that hand slip around your chin and grip your face tightly. He pulled, making your face turn away from his so that his lips touched up against your ear. He held your face with a surprising strength and your breaths raged in and out, unable to conceal how affected you felt for him to be touching you this roughly.

You felt his soft lips at your ear a moment before you heard the lowly growled words that came from deep within his chest.

”l came because I want to fuck you.” You closed your eyes and your mouth was open as short breaths pushed out of your lungs. You had asked for this but had nowhere prepared for the impact of it. Oh this felt better than you had expected.

“Is this what you want to hear, My Love” You felt overwhelmed by his words, by his hands, by the way he pressed his firm body up against you and the way the edge of the hard countertop dug into your back. The pain of it made you feel somehow still connected to your body right now despite the otherworldly arousal that coursed through you.

“I came because you feel so hot and so wet and so good around my dick that all I can think about is fucking you over and over again.”

His hand moved your chin to face him again and he pulled his face back just enough for you to be able to make out the dark brown of his eyes. His pupils were so dark and all consuming they looked like black holes ready to devour you completely.

“You have no idea how desperate I am for you. If you asked me to get on my knees and beg, I would drop — I would drop to my knees, again, for you.”

“But what you have no fucking idea about, is how It goes so much deeper than that.” Your mind was too jumbled to make sense of what he meant. You did not have any space to translate — deeper than what?

His thumb moved then and you felt pressure as he pressed over it your bottom lip, his wild eyes watching the way your mouth opened slightly as he did it.

Every bit of resistance you may have had in you was gone. You easily molded under his hands, feeling the effects of him in more than just your mouth, the heat spread all over your body, dropping into your stomach, pooling in between your legs.

“More,” he said darkly as if this one word had punctuated the shift into a very different Baekhyun and you let your lips fall open more. His thumb pushed in, hooked around your bottom teeth and pulled you forward into his open mouth. You felt the hot wetness of his tongue when he pushed it inside of your mouth. This darkness in his voice sounded familiar; like the same Baekhyun that bit you. This must be him, when he’d lost the carefully curated control, this was him.

You felt inundated. Blindsided by the way your body reacted to it. You sucked on his tongue that he’d pushed into your mouth and you heard a low throaty groan from him as he slowly pulled it back out, leaving you shaking and trembling to watch his face twist into pleasure. His eyes had rolled closed and with him pressed up against your body this way you could feel the rigid heat between his legs pressed up against you.

His hands were trembling and he took them off of your face. He was retreating. It took you a few seconds to realize this and you missed his hands touching you when he’d pulled them away. He stumbled back, landing on one of your kitchen stools.

You watched him breathe through it all the while desperately trying to catch your own breath. When he spoke next he sounded worked up and agitated.

“I am fucking wrecked by you. I feel insane. I feel completely destroyed,” When his eyes pulled open he was back; whispering softly through parted lips and trembling hands that he fisted at his waist.

“But, I also know how lopsided this is. I know that I’m the one who fell too hard — too fast. I think you know it too — teasing me like that. Making me lose control, making me want to lose control —”

You’d done something awful. You’d introduced some doubt inside of his mind and you felt the need to undo all of that this very instant. Was that really why? Did he really have so much confusion about your intentions?

“You must know that I would do anything. I know I should hold back — I need to hold back with you, but…”

You took a step into him, leaned forward and pulled his bottom lip in between your lips and you kissed him, interrupting his false beliefs about how much you felt for him with a kiss.

He responded to your kiss right away with a need and incredible want. That he didn’t know the signs — that he didn’t recognize just how strong of a hold he had on you was a failure on your part — this couldn’t be the only reason. You wondered if it was something you’d missed.

His lips kissed you with such an intensity that you had to place both of your hands on his cheeks to pull him back, just so you could breathe, just so you could speak to the truth of how you felt about him; how you had been feeling about him all day. You had things to say to him.

”I worship you —” Your labored exhale painted over his wet lips, “Baekhyun.” Your chest constricted when you heard your own voice utter those scary words. You’d never before told someone something like this and still deep inside your chest you knew how true it was.

With your small declaration you saw his eyes roll and he bit down on his bottom lip. He inhaled through his nose, his teeth bit down hard on that lip. A small whimper came from the back of his throat.

But you weren’t done. You had so much to tell him and you mustered up the courage to speak.

“You occupy my mind and my heart so completely. I even considered going to bed early tonight just so I could hurry up and see you tomorrow morning.

“If I’ve given you any impression that I don’t want you, that I didn’t want you here; I am sorry. And I’m sorry about the way I greeted you earlier. I was — just nervous. I don’t want you to hold back with me.”

His face ticked back and forth, you felt it happen within your hands.

“I’ve never seen you nervous.” Baekhyun said matter of factly with his pink lips hung open after he spoke.

“I am very good at hiding it.” You let go of his face, trusting that he might stay put and you waved both of your hands over your own chest. “It happens all on the inside. My stomach is a wreck.”

“But you, texting me like that, and standing there at my door looking like this…” you waved a hand over the length of him and his eyes followed your waving fingers to look down at himself with a slowly growing smile that he tried to conceal on his face. His fingertips reached out and he touched your shirt, rubbing the fabric between his thumb and index finger.

“You make me very nervous. I thought for sure I was the one who liked you more.” Your confessions had been tumbling out of you quite freely now. It seemed you’d cleared the clog. “I think we have a lot to learn about each other.”

He watched your face as you spoke. You said all you could think of to say and the small tugs he made on your shirt were distracting, they made you lose whatever else you might have had to say. You reached a hand forward to tug at one of the red strings that hung out of his hood.

His fingers released the bit of your shirt he was holding. He’d been absent minded with it but when he reached out again he lightly gripped the next closed button on your top. There were only two left that held this thing together. His focus was light on that button he held between his index finger and his thumb and you felt a small tug as a third finger came into play, pushing the button through the hole; exposing more of your skin.

He was making you dizzy again. You felt his light touch along your stomach just below the front clasp of your bra and your own small gasps were the only sound in this quiet space when he lightly traced the lace edge of your bra, his fingertip running up the soft flesh of your breast. He followed up the strap and you felt him rub the pad of his fingertip on your shoulder, over the bruise there.

Baekhyun leaned. You felt the movement in him moments before you felt his hair tickling lightly over your skin. You felt the puff of breath from his mouth moments before you felt his soft lips on you and when his lips landed over that same exact spot you had to place your hands on his shoulders to keep yourself from falling over. You braced for it, you could feel it coming when you felt the parting of his lips, the wetness of his tongue and the hardness of his teeth and he bit you again, harder this time in the exact same spot as before. It took your breath away and you had to open your mouth; a small hiss and a quiet moan.

“Do I really make you nervous?” He asked in a low whisper into the space beside your neck. You felt goosebumps all over your skin. His hands were moving and you felt a tiny click. He had figured out the front clasp of your bra. You felt his mouth on you again, this time his lips and his tongue all over. You might have nodded your head. You weren't very much in control of your body anymore.

But his hands, those hands, they were moving again. His slim fingertips had slipped into the space between your goosebumped skin and the waistband of your shorts and he pushed with his hands, leaving only your lace underwear behind. He was undressing you. In the kitchen with all of your lights on and your hands rubbed over the soft red hoodie he still wore, lamenting over the lack of warm skin you felt. He was still completely clothed when gravity took your shorts.

“Do you really want me to not hold back?” His next question was spoken into your open mouth. You gasped, inhaling the sweet smelling air from inside his lungs when his hands reached around and gripped your ass and you were being lifted, with his mouth still connected to your own and his eyes wide open as he looked into your face between the kisses.

He had so many clothes on. You felt the roughness of the denim through the thin lace panties that you still wore and against the bare skin of your thighs that wrapped around his thin waist. You felt your own wetness that soaked the fabric press against you as you were lifted and you were carried; he was moving now.

You were in a different room. You inhaled a shocked breath when you were tossed, your back meeting a soft bed and you were entirely too naked for how many clothes he wore as he climbed over you on the bed, his bare knee and its warm skin a stark contrast to the scratchy jeans, you felt him push that knee roughly against your legs, making you open tor him.

“Baek — clothes,” you managed only a few nouns. He understood and you heard a quiet chuckle from the back of his throat, only it didn’t quite sound like humor. It sounded like something else. A little boy playing roughly and carelessly with a toy, perhaps.

He caged you in with his arms pinning you down on either side and his bare knee pressed up high between your parted legs. You were certain he could feel your wetness on his knee.

“I’ll keep them on for now, because you like them.” His balance shifted then and he moved, propping up on one elbow so he could trace down the curve of your body with his fingertips. He was moving very slowly and you squirmed below the uncomfortable tickle you felt when he reached your hip bones. He was moving lower and his knee was gone, replaced by his wandering hand.

“God, you are wet. I can feel you worshiping me, right here,” his fingertips pressed over your panties and the purposeful drag of his fingers over your swollen center had you gasping. He did it again and again and you responded desperately with every touch and when he pushed the fabric aside and slipped two slim fingers inside of your wetness you could feel yourself losing this game he was playing.

Just with the build up before you got into this room, you were already in bad shape, but now with his fingers touching; you felt yourself too close. He was guiding you there. You knew he could tell too. His movements were deliberate and he was watching your face closely as he did it. You could feel on the edge of it, you were so close to it, your breathing was ragged and desperate and he watched with a quiet and calm expression on his face as he brought you there. You squirmed below him, you touched just along the edge of it with a whimper when all at once he pulled his hand away abruptly, slipping well outside of your wetness and far away from the release you had been so close to. That hand, that hand was gone, his fingers and the feeling all of it was gone. The denial felt like a splash of cold water against your hot skin.

“Do want me to fuck you, Miss Manager?” He spoke out your work title in a hushed whisper and the surprise of hearing that title — right here with you in the state you were in, it pulled your eyes open to look into his face. When he caught your attention you saw a slight narrowing of his dark eyes. It was a challenge. You wondered right then about the fantasies this man must have had at work. You wondered how you would be able to move forward tomorrow knowing what you now knew from his one question he had just asked you.

“You know you just have to ask me nicely,” he said with a shrug of his face. He lifted his hand, still wet from you, up to his lips and you watched his lips part and the tip of his tongue emerged to lick up the wetness before he stuck both of his fingers inside of his mouth, pulling them out of his mouth slowly as he looked into your eyes.

This was too much. You hadn’t been prepared for this kind of behavior from him and the most shocking thing was just how much you were turned on by every single thing he did to you.

Yes, you did want him to fuck you. You were feeling entirely too desperate for it and he was completely and utterly in control of every single thought you had coursing through your brain.

“B-Baek—take off your clothes—”

“Uh-uh,” he interrupted firmly when you had started to speak. “I don’t think that’s the proper way to ask your assistant for a favor. Really, you are more professional than that. At least say please.” This was definitely a game he was playing now.

You felt all of it, all at once. The sting of being so close to a finish and being denied it. The sting of him denying you even for a few seconds what you had so clearly wanted from him. You felt the arousal still overtaking every single one of your senses and still so very affected by his goddamned audacity to be so clearly having so much fun with you right now.

It made you feel insane. All of it was too much.

You weren't speaking right away for sheer loss of words. You felt like you’d lost them along with your sanity and all you could do was reach your hand out and tug lightly at his red sweater. You were greeted with a small slap at the back of your hand for that and he was inhaling to speak again with about as much mischief in his eyes as you had ever seen.

“Répète après moi,” he began in French for no reason you could make any sense of, not that you could make any sense of anything that was happening to you right now.

He spoke clearly and slowly as if you were a naughty student in need of reprimanding — with a finger pointed at his mouth, touching on his bottom lip. This was the finger that had just been inside of you.

“Assistant Byun…will you please” he said with a pointed pause and he watched you and he waited.

It was your turn to repeat after him.

“Assistant Byun, will you please take off your clothes and fuck me?” It was always best to rip the bandaid off, you said it in a single breath. The seconds after the words came out of your lips though, you felt their massive impact.

Every single day, and all day long at work, you started dozens of sentences to him exactly like this. This was the most dangerous game you could have played with him.

His eyes were watching you darkly as you said it and you caught the slow roll of his eyes into the back of his head as he threw his face back and away from you, feeling the very real impact of that sentence you had just said to him.

No doubt, committing it to memory so that every single time you started with those words at work, this very moment would return to his mind — and to yours as well.

He didn't respond right away with words but he was moving before you heard him whisper the quiet, “Yes ma’am,” that he always used as a response at the office.

He quickly pulled the red sweater up over his head and tossed it onto the floor behind him. He’d grabbed the white shirt along with the sweater, removing everything at once. You saw the clear firmness of his skin at last. You could smell the clean, expensive fragrance that he wore. You felt the bed move and you heard the telltale sounds of a belt buckle, a zipper, the swish of jeans and he was back to you all heat and skin and the overwhelmingly amazing way he smelled and he was back; he was back.

You felt ready to snap. You felt wound so tight; the anticipation alone might have done you in, but he was back. You’d abandoned the panties. They were soaked anyway.

He was above you; coating you entirely. The heavy weight of his body covered you, you felt restricted in your breathing and he was here. He was yours; you had him at last. He was in between your legs, he was on top of you and his arms wrapped below your shoulders as he pulled your body into his own, a tangle here without any distance at all between the skin of your bodies and between your faces. You felt him there too, right between your legs, so perfectly lined up. You’d wrapped your tense legs around his waist to pull him in closer to you.

He was looking into your eyes and when he pushed inside it was all at once; in one fluid motion. Your mouth opened to gasp and his mouth opened over your mouth, pushing his tongue between your lips and biting down with his teeth with a matching rhythm; the same motion that his hips moved inside of you, until the gasping from his own lungs grew to be too much for him to take.

You touched him everywhere, needing to feel that smooth skin from his abdomen to his chest to his neck to his face and as you passed your fingers over his lips you gasped when turned his head, catching a finger between his teeth and biting down hard. You wondered how many marks he had made on you now.

You were dizzy. You were overcome. He was sitting up and watching the space where your bodies connected; where he disappeared inside of you again and again and you were lost.

You were lost. His pace was affected by the feeling of your tremors, by the tightening of all of your muscles and you were lost. You heard the growling curses that flew from his lips and the whining sounds that came from his mouth.

His actions were a blur. You were too consumed by this man. You know that you came undone before he did, you felt his strong grip as his hand dug hard into your inner thigh and you felt the slight pain as he pushed inside of you roughly. It brought a sound to your lips and you cried out again when his thumb between your bodies colliding did-you-in again and he was shaking. He was trembling on top of you with a noisy grunt in your ear and a shuttering that you could feel inside of you he was shaking.

The comedown was lengthy. A thousand thoughts came rushing into your mind the second it cleared enough to allow for any little bit of rational thinking. This man…this man was surprising in every single way he could be. He was a marathon and a marvel. He was a hurricane and a deluge and you felt almost too spent to even move, but you knew you must. You reached for something on the bed, finding the panties and deeming them good enough for this mess and his breathing had finally settled enough for a small moan to come from his chest.

Despite the relief you felt, despite the sex being what you needed from him you still longed to touch him. You were sore and you were spent and still you reached for his warmth as if you would never be free of this desire for him. You found him easily. He wrapped himself around you and you only half paid attention to any of those thoughts racing through your mind. Concerns and worries for how you might resist him at work, now that you had these ideas presented in such a tempting way. Worries for what the future with him might actually hold. Worries about how deeply you had fallen for him and how desperately you felt this desire to be with him all of the time.

“Where did you park?” You finally spoke after a long spell of silent breathing.

“Secure lot,” he said over your head and he tightened the grip of his arms around your shoulders and laid a heavy leg over your hip.

You saw him arrive at your home empty handed and he definitely didn’t bring a suit for work tomorrow hidden in his pockets, but the hold he had on you was tight and it was warm and his breathing was beginning to even out as the sounds of nighttime insects began to chirp outside of your closed window and you decided that all of those pesky little details and worries and concerns could wait definitely until tomorrow.

[To be Continued]

Links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

#exo #exo fanfiction #exo smut #baekhyun #exo fic #exo scenario #baekhyun smut #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun series #byun baekhyun #baekhyun fic

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cyberexo · 2 years ago

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FANTASTIC BYUN | A Byun Baekhyun Series

“You were supposed to die!”

warning: this series contains cursing, mentions & includes violence, detailed injury, and death.

GUIDE POST

word count: 1.2K

FANTASTIC BYUN | ONE

"So you're still in transition?" all three of you gazed at the newest edition to your group, Bonnie, Bennett had found her on campus ground doubled over from a pain she was feeling in her wrists, so he'd offered her a little help and brought her to meet the rest of you who were once just like her.

Why any of you were the way you were is unknown, you weren't born into it, it just sort of happened- there was a pattern where before becoming "superhuman" a traumatic event had taken place before, which makes sense however, non of you could figure out exactly what went down in your personal lives before this. It was as if the transition had wiped your memory clean of its cause.

Bennet had been the first, then you, Ben, and now Bonnie, it wasn't hard to come across one another, you all attended the same university, all lived on campus, it wasn't friendly at first; no one wanted to be taken advantage of; understandably, but the more time you spent around each other you were bound to become more trusting and open.

And that's how it's been for the past two years, explorative, fun, and the thrill was worth waking up for. Swinging around campus & the city at night with no care in the world- it was peaceful. Bennett had also scheduled random practice days in case any of you were to ever be in danger- a simulation to teach you what to do as well as what not to do.

Ben had joked around about going around the city and stopping crime- but this wasn't a spider-man movie, you were nothing in comparison to the arachnid icon but it would be a lie to say that it wasn't tempting. Still the risk wasn’t worth the reward in your eyes.

"I mean- I still can't do what you all can do so I must be," one hand holding onto her wrist to ease the burning pain you've all powered through before- it hurt like hell. "Well you've got us now, and it's best to not talk about it with other people who aren't.. us- you don't want people outing you or for word to go around about you being crazy," "Yeah- I was called a marvel moron for six months all because of a simple slip up so be careful," You added.

It was easy being this way in this generation, no one would actually take you seriously; the name calling was the most any of you got.

People don't buy a word you say until you physically did something what would lead them into believing you. It would probably be amusing to see the looks on their faces for a little while but of course it had its consequences- such as loose lips & social media, from one person to the next to a couple thousand and all of a sudden you're being mobbed by people you don't even know.

You had to approach people with caution.

Especially on a bad day, a bad day being; having wrist spasms, you can't hold anything without shaking or you'd shoot a web without meaning to- when you're experiencing a bad day it is best to stay in your dorm and away from classmates and from each other, sudden jolts in your joints that can cause a drastic change in whatever physical form you were taking, one second you're sat in your chair and the next your cross legged on the ceiling- you wouldn't even know where to start an explanation for that to anybody. Let alone a class of over 200 students who's first response was to probably record it all.

"How long does it take till the pain goes away?" she asked, "Depends, for me it was only a couple of days- oh and don't take any painkillers, it does nothing." Bennett advised, you & Ben nodding in agreement- "For me it took around half a year, it won't hurt 24/7 it'll get better with time. You need to concentrate on your mentality and ability to get the webs going, the more you release the less it'll hurt & soon enough you won't even feel it,” you added, offering her a reassuring smile that she wasn’t on her own, which she reciprocated.

This intervention made you wonder if you were going to keep coming across more people like yourself, you hoped not- thankfully all of you seemed to be good people who didn't abuse their powers to inflict harm on others, however, there is no guarantee that the next will be the same.

And about that you were right.

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

Baekhyun who was many miles away from your group sat at his desk moping instead of studying for his upcoming final exam in architecture, he couldn’t think of anything more boring, but if he wanted to lead a seemingly normal and unsuspecting life- he needs to do what needs to be done.

Previous to his transition he was a outgoing, sensitive and down to earth earthling- and that all didn’t come crumbling down right after, he was excited and uncontainable at first, didn’t do anything that would cause harm to himself or anybody around him, it was fun- really fun, and like every other good thing, it had an end.

His excitable persona faded, the feeling of being special and feeling like somebody who was above average significance went with it- nothing in particular triggered the mood swing, at least nothing that he could remember, which of course nagged at him, he wanted to know where it all started to go wrong but he couldn’t figure it out- frustrating and angering him further, telling himself he must’ve just gotten “bored” to suffice the itch to know.

The acts of terror started off simple, easily disguised as a friendly prank or something that he didn’t intent for to go so far in case of any extreme reactions he’d get from friends- whom he’s now lost, or strangers he found interesting enough to meddle with. Unfortunately that all grew old for him quite quickly.

Quickly moving onto business that was non of his, messing with people he shouldn’t be messing with- as well as putting his hands on items he had no business fiddling with or taking. After a couple of fights and wrapping several groups of men to a single lamppost he decided he wanted to chase after the adrenaline by doing something bigger- something worse.

And there was no stopping him.

There was nobody around that was like him, to his knowledge at least, no one with a sliver of resemblance, nothing ever good comes from not being around people who are like you- sure, it’s good to surround yourself with different people every now and again but the feeling of utter loneliness engulfing your existence was unavoidable, especially for a man like Baekhyun.

He had wished there was someone around to share this power he carried, his mind however would dismiss the thought as soon as he’d have it- his being feeling threatened by nobody but the thoughts occurring in his own mind, the weigh of his own internal negativity blurring the scenes of what it would truly be like if he were to come across a person as himself.

No one should ever come close to Baekhyun, or as he likes to call himself; Fantastic Byun.

#fantastic byun #byun baekhyun #baekhyun fic #baekhyun x reader #exo baekhyun #eventual angst #enemies to friends trope #exo bbh #exo fanfic #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun series #so many tags #im sorry

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exodusmc · 2 years ago

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Insider 08

Genre: Power au, war au, rebel au

Words: 2022

Paring: Light manipulator Baekhyun x Reader

Side character/s: Exo, Bts

Warning!: Hinting forced birth, mention of death

a/n: I’m sorry for being gone again but I’m currently working on a royal Jimin fic, which is around 10 k already and I’m looking for ideas to write the next part in my hogwarts series. I was supposed to post a little earlier but then the news about Moonbin came out. I’m seending my condolences and wish everyone the best. Please now that there will awalys be someone who loves you and that you are enought!

Gif is not mine

Previous Next

About two four months had passed, months filled with training. Minseok and Jongdae worked with you almost every day, giving you everything they had. It was hard but one on one was nothing. You didn't see Namjoon or Seokjin around much, only Jungkook and Hoseok. They were skilled in combat, their smiles bright.

Jungkook was better in close contact, brown hair pulled back as dark eyes turned sinister, while Hoseok usually worked with long-range weaponry. He had locks close to red on his head, a gaze sharp like an eagle. The two of them built a team, just like Minseok and Jongdae, something you learned from the many late nights.

The rebels were one team but they valued never being alone, which led to a system of two people making sure the other was safe. It was their way of keeping the majority alive. But apparently wasn't it something healers had, as long as they didn't go out in combat. Jongdae told you almost everything, how their lives had been built and what rules there were. They thought of you as one of them, a part of their mindset...Maybe you had accepted them, never smiling but you spoke more, retoring sarcastic words which made Jongdae howl with laughter and occasionally huff in annoyance.

You felt at home with the two special men, their ever different stands on life which seemed to keep them close to one another. Even Jungkook and Hoseok made you a little less of a feather floating in the wind. But there was still one thing you couldn't talk about and that was your parents, the mere thought of them made the walls too close. Maybe there was some sort of repressed memory, something your child brain thought was too scary.

“Y/n?”your eyes snapped from staring at the wall, finding the leader smiling down at you. Namjoon stood tall above your sittig form, no one else around.”Is everything okay?”

You snuck away to be alone for just a second, finding a small room where you sat. Sure, you did like the others but going from not working with many people and being a lieutenant weren't easy, the constant work with keeping their feelings in mind and trying to understand somethings they did.

“Yes, sir.”

“You don't have to call me sir.”Namjoon sighed, sitting down by your side. He had a new scar by his mouth, small enough to be invisible for untrained eyes.” I have some questions I would like to ask you, they would probably be great help in what we are about to start..”

His words were ominous, surely hinting to a war you weren't sure anyone was ready for. Every since you arrived at the rebels, you didn't know anything that in the republic but it didn't mean you were clueless. They wanted the rebels gone and over time had you started to understand people a little more, making the higher ups far from human.

“Okay..”

“It’s about the republic and what you know..”you weren't surprised, eyes staying on your fingers. There was invisible blood on them, blood you tried to scrub away but it was still there.”Tell me anything you feel comfortable with..”

“They tried searching for you in the sky when I last heard about strategies but I don't think they will do it for a long time…”your gaze rose to the wall, a fan swishing over your head. Everyone was so young and yet they had to lead a revolution for rights you didn't think about before. Suddenly did you remember the book you wrote, hoped that it was destroyed when the hospital exploded.

“They have already stopped…”Namjoon, you learned, was only 20, so much responsibility laying on his shoulders at the tender age. It didn't make sense to you but if no one stepped up, would nothing change..”A base was bombed, most of the people in it died..I think around 80 made it..”

You didn't like the feelings in your body, cold and nauseous, hot and clawing. They were dead and you could have been the one killing them.

“Junmyeon has been asking about you and how you’re doing..”Namjoon saw the color start draining from your face so he changed the subject.”I’ve told him that you’re doing really well and seems to like Jongdae and Minseok..But maybe you can call him so he calms down a little?”

“Okay..but I-I want to tell you something…”your head felt like mush, heart picking up its pace. Stress never faced you in battle, it didn't matter if Minseok tried to impale you with ice, you didn't care, but the second you started to think about everything, were you shaking. Guilt, you guessed you felt guilt.”..They have hidden buildings where they birth children for the armies..”

Namjoon stared at you, his orbs darkening to a thunder night sky. No one knew about it and you had only seen a sip bit of a video, the dying body which would never survive the birth. You weren't supposed to care so you didn't, brain forcing the images to burn.

“I don't know where but I know where they keep the videos..”he stood up, towering with broad shoulders. Namjoon was beyond rage at your confession.

“Come with me, we need to speak with Junmyeon..”

Baekhyun ate quietly, thoughts turning in his head. You weren't back and Yixing was always busy, even after he returned..The light bender had no clue what he was doing, only that the doctor ran around and smiled anytime he saw Baekhyun. They didn't share a room anymore..well maybe they did but Yixing never slept there so Baekhyun wasn't sure what to believe.

At least, he wasn't alone. Chanyeol and Sehun were always there. Goofed around and laughed, even when they were training. The two of them were close and made Baekhyun smile with little effort. It was weird how fast things could change, only short of half a year had passed and he felt like he belonged somewhere.

Everytime Baekhyun looked in the mirror could he see muscles on his arms and a fuller face due to the fact that he got to eat. His skin wasn’t dull and it had a slightly darker tone to it now, made him more alive to the eyes of bystanders. He was appealing to look at, Chanyeol would often tease him because of the multiple females and males sending him long gazes, but he couldn't find one he actually felt something for. It was something he couldn't tell anyone, since it was a lie. He couldn't find anyone here but he would often think about someone somewhere else.

Baekhyun coughs slightly, breaking his gaze from the table just for it to get stuck on the chair before him. You circled his mind whenever he got a moment for himself. He wasn't sure what feeling you brought him but he knew that no one else occupied his brain as much as you did. Your eyes were empty but you cried and now when he felt safe in himself, was he remembering the shimmer in them, the depths of a well with high walls built on lies. People never knew anything more about you than that you were a lieutenant, that it was your choice to kill for them, but Baekhyun knew more, just like Yixing and probably Junmyeon. You were just human like everyone else. Human with a buried heart, guarded by thorns and locked behind mirror orbs.

“Sup Baek!”Chanyeol broke him from his trans, the clatter of tupperware brought him back to the canteen.

Sehun sat to his right while a boy named Kyungsoo sat to Chanyeol’s life. Kyungsoo had come and gone over the course of three months, his eyes dark but easily flammable. Baekhyun still felt the ache from training the first time with Kyungsoo who was completely ruthless, seeding stone after stone right at his face.

It had been extremely tiring for Baekhyun since he had to use copious amounts of energy to destroy the blocks but in the end did he manage...it was not like passing out and had to be pushed aside by Sehun’s wind or anything. Kyungsoo was a little nicer the times after but still didn't stop until everyone in the room was panting.

“Still not gonna give Soha a chance?”Baekhyun cringed at the name, remembering the teleporting girl and how she turned up while he just finished showering.

“Please..can we forget that?”Chanyeol snickered before shrugging his shoulders.

Everyone started eating, the rustle around them fading into a slight buzz, but Baekhyun suddenly saw Junmyeon making his way over them, his stepps fast.

Sehun noticed the slight confusion in his friend's face, fork stopping just for his mouth.

“Kyungsoo can you come with me?”four pairs of eyes rested on the eldest torne face. Junmyeon had aged due to his position and his past, everything the still young man had seen.”It’s urgent…”

“Is something wrong?” Chanyeol was ready to leave and fight in a second, arms tense as he almost stood up from the chair.

Baekhyun learned over time that the power one possessed was growing from your personality in some way, but he didn't tell anyone this, even as Chanyeol with fire in his heart held his head high, or when Sehun moved through space quietly, observing everything with a fleeting touch.

“I need to talk with Kyungsoo and it’s important but right now it is not dangerous..”with that, both of them walked away.

Watching them, hair moving with every step, Baekhyun had a feeling that he would be seeing the one he thought about sooner than later.

Soft sounds of beeping and turning paper floated in Yixing’s head, fingers gracing over every file he had as the room was peaceful. He spent most of his time by his bed, flipping through the documents he mangade to steal. Your parents were among them but the words were nothing of help, only small bits of useless information since the republic didn't know who they were.

Sighing, Yixing pressed his fingers against his drumming temples, the slowly rising headache making him irritated. After the explosion and his injury had the headaches been more regular, creeping up his spine to hammer at his skull. But it’s whatever, he’s fine even when feeling in his right leg starts to fade.

Suddenly there was a small sound of sheets moving and his dark gaze found honey eyes on a honey boy who had paled slightly.

“Jongin?”

“How come we get to use the tunnels now?”your question made Minseok send you a side glance, his packing movements stopping for a millisecond.

You had changed, maybe not as much as Baekhyun according to what Junmyeon said, but there was something hiding in your gaze. There was a fire in your movements, another force he couldn't feel in the beginning.

Minseok never knew you parents but it was your mother who found him and…, she found all of them and saved them. You had her lips when they weren't pulled into a deep frown, he wondered if you knew..that you still had a connection to them even though you really had no clue who they were.

“Because they trust you more now?”Jongdae grinned, his hand coming to rustle your hair even if he wasn't that much taller than you.”You’re on our side now so I’ll let you in on all our secret tunnels..”

Jongdae laughed, leaning closer to your ear so Minseok could hear what he was about to say.

“Even the ones they don't know about..”his smirk was playful, eyes shimmering like they always did.”Hanhee won't tell..”

Minseok turned to stare at them both, the sheepish look on Jongdae and your indifferent face. He sighed, having slept too bad to scold Jongdae.

“Come on, they will be here soon..”

So after four months would you return to the place you woke up in, you would meet them all again...and everything would begin.

Tags: @shesdreaminginoverdose

#baekhyun x reader #EXO baekhyun #baekhyun au #byun baekhyun #Power AU #rebel au #exo #war au #exo au #exo au scenarios #light baekhyun #baekhyun scenarios #baekhyun series #baekhyun fanfic #exo scenarios #exo fanfic #exo x reader #kpop fanfic

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baekslight · 4 months ago

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endless list of moments that made me love baekhyun (8/?)

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marshmallow-phd · 10 months ago

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A Manor of Shadow and Blood

Genre: Regency Gothic AU

Pairing: EXO x Reader

Summary: A stormy night brought you to the manor in the middle of the woods. Nine strange men occupied its halls. They won’t let you leave. A dangerous secret haunts this estate. Learning it might either be your saving grace or it could lead to the last breath you ever take.

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5

The grand hall was lit as bright as midday. Every surface was polished to perfection, reflecting the candlelight at a greater force. Brilliant brass and gold surrounded you as you made your way through the dancing couples, their movements in perfect sync. Wrapped in each other's arms, they spin around without a care for your wandering presence.

While all who surrounded you were decorated in blacks and whites, your own dress was the color of freshly spilled blood. The heavy skirts that hug from your waist made it difficult to navigate the ballroom. Their fullness was of an older fashion, one that maybe your grandmother would have worn in her youth. The dropped shoulders left you exposed, your skin chilled despite the amount of bodies in here.

You kept navigating the dance floor, on the look out for something, though you didn’t know what. Then you felt the familiar burn of eyes boring into your back, which sent a shiver down your spine. You whirled around to find the source, the dress brushing at your feet with the sudden motion. Through the crowd, you spotted Baekhyun leaning against the wall. With a single finger, he beckoned you over. And you obeyed.

Breaking through the sea of dancers, you took in his elegant suit, the hems lined with gold thread that shimmered against black velvet.

"You shouldn't dance alone," he purred. Arms crossed over his chest, he smirked at you with a grin even the devil wouldn't wear.

"I have no partner," you retorted. He held out a lazy hard. Hardly the romantic gesture. "No, thank you."

"How about me?" asked a sweet voice in your ear.

You turned your head to find Junmyeon at your back. He laid a soft hand on your hip to keep you from escaping out of propriety. When you didn’t shove him away, the hand slyly moved to your stomach, pulling your bare shoulder blades into his chest. With the fingers of his left hand, he tilted your chin towards him.

"Am I a suitable partner?"

No answer passed your lips. You could think of nothing to say. The thought of him twirling you around the dance floor was not… unpleasant.

Junmyeon neither needed nor cared for a reply. He dipped his head to your shoulder and pressed a kiss to the skin. A small gasp passed your lips. And then he pressed another. More and more as he climbed up the curve of your neck. Heat rose from every inch of you as you sighed into the affectionate touches. You relaxed into his touch, welcoming each new contact of his lips.

"It's rude not to share, Junmyeon.”

Your attention snapped back to Baekhyun, who you had forgotten was there. He pushed himself off the wall and stepped closer to you so he stood in front of the minor.

No, not a mirror. There was no reflection.

Except… there was. The mirror reflected the floor, the ceiling, the candlelight. You.

But not Baekhyun. Not Junmyeon. And not the dancers still spinning behind you.

Fingers snaked through your hair and pulled your head back, your vulnerable neck exposed. From the gallery above, Kyungsoo watched as elongated fangs flashed behind Junmyeon’s lips and plunged into your neck.

*****

You woke with a start, the blanket flying off of you as you sat up in a fury. Sweet drenched every pore of your skin. Your day old dress clung to your skin in a way that felt suffocating. Each breath was a struggle for your lungs.

Vampires. The nightmarish tale that had kept you up as a child until you were convinced they weren't real turned out to be true. But how could they be real?

Creatures of the night. Blood drinkers. Horror stories meant to keep children from wandering about after dark.

Curling your legs to your chest and encasing them in your arms, you tried to think of a way out. To escape. With what strength you possessed, you slid off the bed and walked over to the window. The sun, so bright and full of life, was just beginning its descent towards the horizon. Night–their domain–was hours away. If the legends were true, then they would all be asleep at this moment. Any risk that was to be taken had to be taken now.

After changing into a sturdier dress, you retrieved your still mud-covered boots and, keeping them in one hand, you carefully pushed away the pathetic barrier and snuck out of the room.

Each step was taken with unmatched caution. You tested every board with your foot before fully committing. Any squeak of a floor or stumble down a stair could alert them to your escape. But by the grace of a miracle, you made it to the front door. Fingers trembling, you pulled on the boots and tied up the laces before opening the door only wide enough for you to slink through.

The next breath taken outside was like the first breath of life. But there was no time to take it in.

Gathering your skirts in your grip, you took off into the trees. The dirt was dry and sturdy under your feet. Branches and leaves crunched with the weight of your boots. A lady’s delicacy was out of the question as you ran without abandon. You didn't know what direction you were running. But vampires needed blood to survive and they weren’t drinking yours. And Jongdae had brought those buns from a bakery, not their own kitchen. You doubted any of them knew how to cook. That meant a village or town had to be nearby. Junmyeon had lied about the isolation of the manor. If you just kept going, you could find freedom.

However, your stamina was running out. This was never your preferred activity. Your lungs and throat burned in an unfamiliar way. The sun still shined above. A short respite could be spared.

You leaned against a tree trunk for support. In your boots your feet pulsed. Only now did you realize that you had run away without food or water. Not knowing where the kitchen was located, you didn't have time to waste on it. You could survive, you told yourself. Just a little farther. The town couldn’t be too far. Unless you were headed in the wrong direction.

A rustling rippled through the silent forest. You snapped to attention, trying to find the source.

“The wind,” you gasped between ragged breaths. “It had to be the wind.”

A low, rumbling growl said it wasn't wind.

In the distance, large silhouettes emerged. Wolves. Nearly a dozen of them.

You ran as fast as your crying legs could take you. With their superior nature built for the hunt, the wolves caught up to you within seconds. Their growls and howls grew louder and more threatening behind you. Running from the manor had been easy. Running from the wolves was to be your end.

Powerful paws slammed into your back. You were thrown to the ground, rolling across the ground as a scream ripped at your throat. The momentum stopped you on your stomach. Hair covered your face, but you could still see your death through the strands.

Wolves of gray and black gathered in a half moon circle. They had their prey in perfect position. The middle wolf pounced. All you had time to do was throw up your arms to protect your face. Claws raked across your forearm. Another scream echoed through the merciless trees. The wolf landed on the other side of you with pride. Now you were surrounded. A second wolf leapt.

A blur appeared in front of you and collided with the wolf midair. The two bodies tumbled across the forest floor. A human and the wolf.

Not a human.

Chanyeol. The wolf trapped within his grasp, Chanyeol tightened his grip–

Crack.

The wolf fell limply to the ground, its tongue hanging from its jaw.

The others appeared seconds later. Not understanding what they were up against, the wolves let you go to attack the newest threat.

"Are you alright?" Junmyeon knelt down in front of you. His hands were outstretched as if you were the wild animal on the verge of attack. Behind him, snarls and whimpers told of the fight–and who was winning. Despite not answering him, he caught sight of your bleeding arm. "We need to get back to the manor."

He didn't ask permission before picking you up into his arms and sprinting through the forest. Everything blurred past you, your loose hair whipping at your face. He burst through the manor doors and didn't stop until he was able to set you down in the largest chair. Once you were safe, he fell to his knees, only his palms keeping him upright. The others soon stumbled in behind him, heaving and collapsing onto the floor. Only then did you notice the smoke floating up from each of their backs. Patches of burnt, red skin sizzled on their knuckles and faces. Anything that had been exposed to the sun.

"Baekhyun," Junmyeon gasped.

"I already have it." Kyungsoo came into the parlor with bottles stacked in his arms. He quickly passed them around, waiting until the others were quenching their thirst before pulling the cork out of his own bottle and chugging the contents.

With his bottle empty, Junmyeon tossed it to the side and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. Red smears stained the ivory fabric. You shrank back in the chair as he turned towards you.

"What hell were you thinking!" He growled. "I warned you about the wolves!"

"Junmyeon, she's shaken up enough," Jongdae defended. Before your eyes, his burnt skin healed to be like new.

"She could have been killed!"

Your head was pounding. He was… concerned about your life? The legends said that the sun was a vampire's deadliest enemy. It was why they thrived in the darkness. But they had all risked a final death to come after you.

"Did you hear me scream?" you whispered. You could barely feel your own lips moving. All heads tuned to you.

Yixing was the one to answer. "Yes. We all heard you."

"Why were you out there?" Sehun asked aggressively.

You sucked in a sharp breath. There was no escaping the truth now. You stared at Jongdae. "I figured it out.”

Baekhyun laughed. "At least we don't have to walk around delicately anymore."

"When exactly did you do so?" Minseok mocked.

"Then you should remember what I said to you before was true. Harm would not come to you within these walls." Junmyeon crouched down next to the chair. His eyes... there was something behind the darkness that tugged at your still wildly beating heart. "I know you were running away. And if you're desperate to get away enough to get yourself killed, then the choice can be yours. We can send you on your way with every provision. Or," he cleared his throat, "you stay here. With us."

A choice? He was giving you a choice?

Your gaze drifted over the faces that stared back at you. Even Kyungsoo refused to look away while he waited. There was almost a plea in his expression, a subtle beg. But was it to stay? Or for you to run as far away as possible?

Junmeyon took your attention away when he picked up your wounded arm with delicate fingers. His pleading was much more clear.

To leave would be the better choice. The more sane choice. But what would happen afterwards? You could claim being lost in the woods. With evidence of the carriage and the missing driver, what else could they believe? After a few days on bed rest, you would be back by your aunt's side, following her every whim. Including indulging her on a "perfectly adequate" suitor because you had no other option, no other path. That suitor who would then become your future. But you didn't want it. You refused to give in to it.

Already within these few days, you were… changed in a way. They might not be human, but these men would forever be burned into your memory. Who could move you with music the way Chanyeol had? What silent strength could match the aura of Junmyeon? You had been promised that none of them would harm you. The chance for something extraordinary was right in front of you. The kind of chance you had only read about. It just had to be taken.

"I think… I think I want to stay."

*****

The moon became an ever changing friend. You hardly saw the sun anymore. Like the men you had given yourself over to, you lived under the stars. It was oddly beautiful. This time was often forgotten about by you and many others. The night was only a background to your time within your dreams. But now it was your entire world.

Every evening, you awoke to the dying orange light of the day. Breakfast always waited for you outside the door. It was the rule that no one broke; none could enter your room without explicit permission from you. Those walls remained your safe haven when things grew too overwhelming.

Despite your decision to stay, discovering that other creatures walked the earth required a step away once in a while. Especially now, with you aware of their true nature, the men were refusing to hold back.

Dropping from the roof, running around with spectacular speed, and lifting objects that ten men couldn't hold. It was remarkable. Except for the diet and inability to walk in the sun, the… condition seemed more like a blessing.

"You're rather thoughtful this evening,” Jongdae commented. He walked beside you like he did every twilight.

After you finished your breakfast, you met Jongae at the front doors to go on a walk around the manor grounds. Often others would join you as well. Junmyeon was the most frequent, though Yixing, Changed, and Jongin made many appearances over the past week and a half. Boundaries were constantly tested, but one word from you and they retreated.

"I guess you could say I am thoughtful tonight," you finally sighed. You hadn’t realized that you were being so obviously quiet. Funny, since you would have thought Jongdae would enjoy the silence. You typically had many questions or comments of your own to make.

"Should I go steal a penny from Sehun?"

You laughed. "I'd like to think my thoughts are worth more than a single penny.”

"They must be if you've become so skilled in deflecting from them." He crossed over to block your path. Gaze narrowed, he studied your carefully guarded expression. "What are you thinking about so hard? Regretting your decision to stay already?"

"No," you insisted. "Not at all."

He raised an eyebrow that simply asked, "Then what?"

"Do you always stay here?" you countered. "At the manor, I mean."

"We travel," Jongdae answered with a nod. "Not too often. It’s a bit difficult, you see."

"But we like traveling north.” Minseok dropped from who-knew-where, landing with barely bent knees and hands folded behind his back. "In the winter, the night lasts longer. Junmyeon has a small hunting lodge up there.

A hunting lodge? "Then why do you stay here?"

Minsoek shrugged. "This manor is bigger."

"Having nine of us in one household can be a bit volatile,” Jongdae added. He stepped aside to continue the stroll. "We need the room to separate so we don't level a building."

Your foot caught on an invisible lump in the grass. "You could destroy a building while fighting?"

Minseok snickered as he caught your stumble and helped steady your stance. His hand lingered at your waist until your sharpened glare made him remove it. "We haven’t crumbled a wall in a few years."

You scoffed at the casual tone. "What sort of fight caused that?"

"I can't remember." Minseok leaned forward slightly to look at Jongdae for help. But he didn't seem to recall either.

"Who knows what started it between Chanyeol and Kyungsoo.”

Your mouth dropped open in shock. Kyungsoo and Chanyeol had fought over something to the point of destroying a wall to crumble? It didn't feel plausible. Neither seemed like the hot-headed sort. You wanted to know the igniting incident so desperately.

Both Jongdae and Minseok suddenly whipped their heads towards the front of the manor.

"What is it?" you asked when neither offered an explanation.

"Junmyeon's calling for us." Jongdae scooped you up into his arms without warning. At your confused expression, he explained, "We're not leaving you alone out here." Remember your last adventure in the woods lingered in the silence.

The short lived wind whipped at your hair that you still wore loose to cover your neck. As soon as he stopped running, you wiggled out of his arms to be back on your feet. Everyone else was already gathered just outside the door. Several eyed you and Jongdae with suspicious and annoyed glares. You took a step away from him for some separation.

Clearing his throat, Junmyeon called everyone to attention. "We have to go hunting–real hunting. Now, normally, we all go together, but now that we have our guest," he nodded towards you, "some will have to stay behind with her until the first party… comes back."

"If you all need to go,” you couldn't quite speak the word feed, "then I'll be alright. For a few hours, at least." You weren't sure how long this excursion would take.

Junmyeon's features softened. "No. We'll go in groups. Chanyeol, Kyungsoo, Minseok and I will go first. We shouldn't be gone long." He reached out and patted the top of your head before disappearing into the trees. Kyungsoo gave no goodbye as he followed suit. The last two playfully shoved each other while taking off.

"Come." Yixing took hold of your hand and started pulling you inside. "I want to show you something."

"But–" You had wanted to ask Jongdae a question, but the traitor was already gone, off somewhere to do something he would never tell you about. So, you let Yixing take you into the manor and up the main staircase at the end of the hallway. At least he let you stay on your own feet instead of insisting on going at his speed.

Going down an unfamiliar hallway, you were reminded how big this place was and how much you still had to explore. The men occupied most of your time, vying for your attention and pulling you this way and that so you didn’t have much time on your own. It was odd and overwhelming at times.

During your seasons in town, you were hardly a well-sought after prize. There were prettier girls with grander dowries. You had accepted that fact. Now you were the center of a courting dance to which you knew none of the steps and possessed endless partners.

Yixing paused in front of a door that looked identical to all the others. He kept his fingers tight around yours as he slowly turned the knob with his free hand. The door swung open.

The gasp inhaled through your parted lips wasn't enough to convey your awe.

Maps of all the places you'd heard of and dozens more you hadn't covered the walls like homemade wallpaper. Slipping out of Yixing's grip, you walked further into the study, spinning slowly around to take it all in. The maps were varying degrees of tan, some as light as his skin, others as dark as animal leather.

Instead of bookshelves, doorless cabinets waist high lined three of the walls. Their squared shelves were stuffed full of parchment and ink and quills. A lone sketcher's desk sat in the middle, an unfinished drawing laying against the tilted surface.

"What is this place?"

"It's my personal study," Yixing answered as he laid a hand on the edge of the desk. "Kyungsoo gave it to me after I had accidentally taken over one of the parlors."

Your awe increased ten-fold. Your initial assumption was that he was a collector, not the original artist. "You drew all of these?"

He nodded almost... shyly. "I did. I was a cartographer. Before."

"Before?" You understood what he meant, but you didn't know how to ask for the story.

Turning his eyes to the parchment, he pinched it between his fingers. "I didn't just love traveling. I loved capturing it on paper. I wanted to make these places into art, but not like every other painting. I wanted them to be perfect. Exact replicas as if you were staying at them from God’s point of view. And I wanted to be the best. I couldn't be, though. I wasn’t good enough."

You moved closer to him, entranced in the story. "What happened?"

A rueful smile tightened at his lips. "I was given a chance to become perfect. What I didn't know was that I traded everyone knowing my maps for the talent to make it happen." Sorrow rolled from him like the tide warning of an oncoming storm.

Feeling the pull to comfort him, you reached out and covered his fidgeting hand with your own steady fingers.

"People will be able to know your work some day," you whispered. "I’m sure of it."

Perhaps you had been a bit too forward, a bit too open.

Yixing moved gracefully forward to eliminate most of the space between you. A smooth thumb that once must have been calloused when it was human caressed the edge of your jaw. His flickering eyes made intentions obvious.

Clearing your throat, you stepped out of the touch. "Why isn't this one finished?" You pointed to the drawing on the desk. It was an aerial view of the manor, with the top half of the parchment containing the beginning edges of the garden hedges. Disappointed, Yixing sighed and went along with your distraction.

"I'm still working out the maze. It is intricate. Much more than I was prepared for."

"Goodness." You were thankful that you hadn't wandered in there yet, especially on your own.

"Yixing.”

Both of you turned towards the door to find Sehun standing under the frame.

"Yes, Sehun?" Yixing said through somewhat gritted teeth. The young vampire wasn't phased.

"I need to speak with you."

"Fine." None of you moved.

Sehun looked at you with a pointed glare.

You received the hint loud and clear. "I'll leave you, then.”

With more relief than you cared to admit, you scurried out of the room and down the hallway.

Around the corner, you pressed your back against the wall and forced yourself to take deep breaths that filled your lungs to capacity. Panic had been the response at Yixing's closeness. You didn't mean for that to be the response. You didn't want to be closed off to any of them. But you couldn't help it. Maybe it was merely the closeness of the situation.

Giving yourself a small amount of grace, you pushed off the wall and made your way downstairs. So used to your time being absorbed by the men that you weren't sure what to do with yourself. Two of the ones that remained behind were currently occupied. As for the three others, they could have been anywhere.

You wandered around the main floor with a fleeting hope that one would come to find you. Then you saw them. A row of grand doors evenly spaced along the north wall called you forward.

The grand ballroom took your breath away. Not so dissimilar to the one in your dream, though this one’s lack of warmth and light left you heartbroken. Memories of dancing figures and lively music haunted these walls. In the corner, you could imagine a small orchestra strumming their instruments in delight.

You walked to the center where dozens of pairs used to twirl and bow and embrace each other in time with the melody. Ghostly laughter echoed in your ears. What had once been bright and golden and full of life was dull, dark, and covered in cobwebs that swayed in the breeze of unknown origin.

Glancing around, you confirmed that you were truly alone before closing your eyes, lifting your arms, and began a soft hum.

You danced with an invisible partner in the fashion that your grandfather had taught you as a small child. It was more intimate than the choreographed dances currently popularized. You had always imagined your first ball like this, instead of the disappointment you really experienced. You had pictured a boy you didn’t know catching your eye. As the music was struck up, he laid a hand on your waist.

Just like now.

Hm. Your imagination was running wild, even pretending the weight of a palm was there on your lower back. And now in your lifted left hand.

No. That wasn’t your imagination.

Your eyes snapped open.

Jongin had taken the place of your imagined partner. He smiled down at you with a feline smirk as his hands tightened around you, refusing to let you slip away. There was no choice in leaving this musicless dance. You had stopped humming but he continued to whirl you around the marble floor. He controlled the dance, in charge of every step. He led with an expertise he shouldn’t have possessed–if he were a man of this age.

In one final move, he slipped his arm fully around your waist, pulling you so close that no room remained between you. Without breaking the spin, he lifted you from the floor as if you were no more than a kitten and whirled you around like the heroine from your favorite novel.

When the spin came to a close, he set you back on your feet, but didn’t let go. Your lungs heaved from the exercise–and from the way your bodies pressed together. Each rise of your chest brought you even closer to Jongin. He kept your gaze like a stablehand trying to calm a wild horse. His right hand slipped from your fingers, softly tracing the delicate inside of your arm. The touch left behind a fire you couldn’t explain. A cold, simmering fire.

He cupped your jaw as his eyes drifted down to your lips. This was a different reaction to Yixing’s wandering gaze. Not panic, but something similar.

Jongin held you in place as he leaned down, his lips pressing gently into the corner of yours. The thin breath in your lungs hitched. He lifted his lips only to find a new patch of skin. The delicate skin covering your pulse. Every muscle in your body froze. He kissed the skin softly. Surely, he could feel the race of your blood.

“Whenever you need a partner,” he said in a hush against your neck, “just whisper my name.”

And then, he was gone.

You stared off at the empty path left behind Jongin. The sheer hubris.

His name lingered on your lips, wondering if he would really come back like he said. But you kept the whisper inside and left the ballroom just the same.

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baekhyunsbestie · 1 month ago

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𝟎𝟒 ⭑ ( LOVERBOY ) .ᐟ

˗ˏˋ ꒰ summary ꒱ ˎˊ˗ you and baekhyun grew up together, two nepo babies born into privilege, always orbiting each other. he's the golden boy of the baseball team—star pitcher, heavy hitter, captain. you're the legacy kid, top of your class, a picture-perfect heiress with a sharp tongue. you've always been close—too close. the tension has been there for years, but neither of you will admit it.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 18+ content / mdni ꒱ ˎˊ˗ college athlete!baekhyun x f!reader. college au. reader's name is ‘bunny’ in place of ‘y/n.’ each chapter will have its own warnings. angst, fluff, smut <3

𝟎𝟏. HEAVY HITTER | wc: 7.7k

𝟎𝟐. BUNNY'S DILEMMA ...coming soon!

𝟎𝟑. TWO TRUTHS AND A LIE ...coming soon!

𝟎4. DO WHAT YOU DO ...coming soon!

˗ˏˋ ꒰ a/n ꒱ ˎˊ˗ spotify playlist linked in the title!!!! listened to a whole lotta pnd writing this series hence the playlist being like 75% him lmaooooo hope u guys like reading this series just as much as i liked writing it <3333 mwah ily all

ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* masterlist ° ᡣ𐭩 .

#loverboy #college athlete au #baseball!baekhyun #baekhyun smut #baekhyun x reader #baekhyun angst #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun series #baekhyun fic #baekhyun imagine #exo x reader #exo imagine #exo fic #exo series #exo smut #exo fluff #exo angst #lisawrites

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soobadnoonecanstopher · 2 years ago

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Can I Stay? (A Baekhyun Story) Part 10.

Pairing: You x Baekhyun

Rating: M (Mature Content)

Word Count: 6.6K

Warnings: Some smut-ish situations. Edging but this time it’s you, not the characters. Angsty angst is angsty. Some trouble in paradise.

Author‘s note: remember all those years ago I said I’d write a Baekhyun x Noona fic? This is that fic.

Inspired by the Ray LaMontagne song Can I Stay

Tag List: @andimoon @his-mochi-cheeks

Links: Part 1, …… Part 9, Part 10, Part 11

“I said I don’t like you meeting him.” He was staring ahead at the screen with a darkness in his eyes and his jaw was clenched down tight.

“Assistant Byun-” He physically flinched when he heard it. You felt a burning inside your stomach, “I can handle it myself.”

———

You could deal with Chet. He was nothing to you; insignificant and small. You didn’t need to avoid him and you definitely didn’t run away from your problems.

Instead of closing the window, your fingers flew over your keyboard typing out a quick curt response that would put an end to it for good, both the pushy unsolicited and unreciprocated behavior from that man and as for this man, the one standing behind you, having straighten his spine back up, pulled himself into a standing position and was now watching you with his arms firmly folded over his chest; perhaps this would put his mind at ease that no, you didn’t actually have any interest in meeting with Chet, and no you weren’t actually doing anything to encourage this and avoiding it would only make things worse.

You hadn’t yet looked up at him, but you could physically feel him watching you right now.

‘Please follow the appropriate channels to request a meeting and refrain from contacting me on any matters unrelated to work.’

You hit send and watched the message get delivered. After a few moments you saw the moment the message was seen by him and you watched for a few more seconds as no reply came.

Delivered and received. It was done. That should be it. Any normal human in a professional environment would accept this as the end of something. Something that was nothing.

You were staring at your computer screen, working up the nerve to look at him.

Something in your stomach had turned sour. Perhaps your lunch didn't agree with you.

Baekhyun made a sound beside you, it was a slow exhale from his nose. It pulled your eyes to him and he was standing just at the edge of your desk looking down at his thumb that ran a path along the wooden surface again and again.

You watched his eyes and he wasn’t looking at you but his mind seemed quite occupied in his own silence. His head ticked a bit and he worried his tongue inside his closed mouth, swallowing quickly before biting down on his bottom lip for a moment, his eyes still fixed on the desk.

Was he upset?

Or were you upset?

The sour feeling in your stomach surged a little and you swallowed it down. You knew that he didn't like Chet. You knew that he didn’t like you having to interact with him. Baekhyun had taken offense when you’d rebuked him, calling him out by his title and basically telling him to back-off, that you could handle your own battles. Was his problem that he didn’t trust Chet or did he honestly think you were somehow a helpless damsel? You refused to entertain the idea that somewhere in his mind lurked a worry that you would purposefully meet with Chet, or purposefully put hopes into that man’s mind.

The silence had nearly been going on for too long. You could see, if you looked very carefully, you could see a fast approaching line between when this would be a silly little memory you could look back on with him and laugh, and when this could potentially snowball into some sort of misunderstanding that could derail his faith in you, or your faith in him.

“Baekhyun—” you started speaking to him, not entirely sure where you were going, but needing some words to come out anyway.

“I’m sorry—”

“I’m sorry,” you heard his voice sound out over your own at the same time. His sudden apology halted your own words but he heard yours because his head was shaking back and forth in tiny movements as he rolled his eyes around his head and licked his lips again.

“No, I’m sorry. I was out of line.” He said it quickly and just under his breath. You hated this. You hated the uncertainty of it all. The walking on eggshells and the careful and delicate way you both had to behave as you figured out each other's personalities and limits of what was acceptable and what was not. Laying down the boundaries of this new relationship felt like an insurmountable undertaking and left you weary and exhausted just with the thought of it.

There were things he obviously didn't like. And there were things you didn’t like. Your own autonomy being questioned or worse, silenced. You weren’t hopeless. You had never once needed someone to fight your battles for you.

There were things you could work on too. Your own self esteem and accepting him for the social, friendly, sometimes overly friendly popular guy that he was. The rumors from the bathroom were fresh in your mind and you would still feel the sting of what they said about you, but you knew they had to be baseless.

This man was so open with you though. He was standing here, apologizing to you for a very human reaction of wanting to protect the one he loved.

But what about him? Couldn't you also protect him?

“Baek, I will do my best to not meet with him unless work related and unavoidable. I don't even want to, and I think I’ve made it abundantly clear to him. I understand that you don't like it and I’ll do everything in my power to respect that.”

He was looking into your face now, watching your lips as you spoke out your promises to him and at last — at last you witnessed the moment when that darkness in his eyes cleared. He blinked slowly at you and you saw the tiny pull at the corner of his lips.

“You’re so cool,” he said quietly and his lips changed into the smallest pout as he pulled his top lip in between his teeth and pushed his bottom lip out.

“How do you do that?” He said after a few moments of silence. “You’re like the fucking boyfriend whisperer.” He’d taken a step closer to you and another. This was behind the desk; this was not allowed. His body language felt too casual; almost as if he’d forgotten himself and it set off alarm bells in your head. His hand dropped and you felt his fingers land just over your shoulder, touching you lightly and there was a definite incoming motion of his face as it closed in on yours. This was bad.

You saw him leaning and you knew what this was.

Some more gullible members of your team might think he was leaning to whisper something in your ear but you knew what an incoming kiss looked like.

“Oh - nope,” you said out loud. You took immediate evasive actions; spinning around in your seat to face the opposite direction, you stood, and took two large steps away from him. You found yourself out from behind your desk, having abandoned the man back there by himself.

Another step took you to the far corner of your office and you looked up at the rows of books you kept on the shelves along that wall. Of course you were not looking for anything, you didn’t even have a plan for why you were over here but you knew that he almost just kissed you with the blinds open and an office full of people just outside of that window as potential witnesses.

“I forgot where I was,” he said softly, hanging his head down for a moment still very much behind your desk with his hands crossed behind his back.

The close call had your heart racing and you grasped through your memories for anything that could get you out of this office.

“Don’t I have a meeting somewhere?”

You knew he mentioned several things that were happening after lunch. Your attempt at a distraction was weak. Baekhyun watched you for a few moments in silence before inhaling to speak.

“It’s not for thirty minutes but we could head out right now and just…walk very slowly up the stairs if you need to get out of this fishbowl.”

“I hate the stairs.” The words were out quickly; your genuine opinion of the thought of walking up 5 flights of stairs.

“Yeah. I know. So does everybody else.” His follow-up comment was tossed carelessly and oh so casually in your direction and he was packing a bag with meeting essentials; your laptop; a few documents and final print-outs for attendees.

His cheeks had darkened a shade and you watched his face the entire time he busied himself with the bag.

You’d been seduced by this man enough times to know when you were in danger. This was at work.

This was entirely and unequivocally against the carefully explained, survivalist rules you’d set forth with him as one of the conditions of beginning this secret relationship.

“Baekhyun.” You spoke his name clearly, “That’s a bad idea.” But his shifty eyes refused to meet yours and he was making his way toward the door. Really? Nothing?

You felt it then; that thick syrupy feeling inside your chest. You had to put a hand over your chest to steady your breathing as your fought through it.

This was not allowed.

You should not, absolutely should not be in any secluded part of this building alone with this man. What was he even thinking?

“Baekhyun,” his name left your lips this time in a scandalized whisper but he had already opened your office door and he was moving quickly on his feet, through rows of cubicles, passing a few of your team members who didn’t spare him much of their attention.

You had little choice but to follow. He had all of your meeting materials and you hadn’t even paid enough attention to your schedule this morning to know what meeting it was you were headed to.

You quickened your pace to catch up with him and he was headed to the far north end of the building’s stairwell. It was the most secluded and least used one in the building. Your mind was racing as you followed his quick steps. Your heart was beating even faster at the idea of that unimaginable temptation that laid behind that door throwing you into a tizzy.

He was still faster than you were and before you could stop him he pulled the door open and disappeared behind it.

You stopped in your tracks when you saw that door close behind him.

You had already evaded one kiss today, but to purposefully put yourself into a situation? Inside your head a timer was counting. He would have stepped inside on the landing of the stairs by now. He would have his hand on the railing and his steps would be paused as he waited for the first sign of you. Would he be waiting right behind the door perhaps? Ready to pull you in for a needy and passionate kiss?

You touched the smooth metal of the handle of the door. You knew better than this.

You had also known better than beginning a romantic relationship with your own personal assistant; something that was so much against company policy that there were entire paragraphs written about the ramifications and legal consequences of an inappropriate relationship between direct supervisor and their subordinate in the employee handbook that you had signed years ago. You’d known better than to allow your heart to grow so soft and weak to him that you’d thrown out every bit of common sense you had in your head for the chance to love him and to be loved by him.

You pulled on the door and you stepped inside, all the while knowing better than this.

Inside the stairwell was quiet, save for the sound of footsteps up ahead. You heard his breathing but you did not immediately see Baekhyun anywhere in this level.

What?

Where was the man who had lured you in here with the promise of a clandestine meeting and the chance to finally be alone with him; something the entire day had not afforded you.

You caught motion in the flight above you and a blonde head of hair leaned over the railing, popping into your sight when you looked up.

“Come on, slow poke. I haven’t gotten a chance to go to the gym in days — my body feels too stiff.”

You looked straight up into his face and he wore a mischievous look there. It took you a few moments honestly. This wasn’t what you expected when you caved to temptation and opened that door. There was a slight sting to this. It made you shake your head and it made you exhale a breath through your nose, biting down hard on your lip to keep from making any snide remarks in his general direction.

He had a grin and he watched as you put your first foot on the first step of this set of stairs.

You could not help the small frown that appeared on your lips. Had you just been tricked into after lunch exercise? You hated the stairs. He didn’t have to take them in heels, he would never understand the feeling of a tight pencil skirt pulling at his thighs as he tried and failed to take more than one stair a time.

You felt downright bamboozled. Each step made you more and more irritated that he would do this to you.

Baekhyun was full of energy though. He’d noisily rushed to the top of his staircase and you could hear the sound of his stomping footsteps making their way back down now. It felt like he was showing off. In your mind, you could visualize the smug smile he would have on his face. Each new step only served to fuel your annoyance. You pushed your legs up each step one by one and you even had to pull your skirt up two or three inches so you could comfortably manage the stairs without the restriction of the tight clothing.

Just as quickly as you heard the footsteps retreating you heard the sounds of them changing direction. Was he doing laps? Why couldn't he just abandon you back here in your heels and your skirt and your grump? You saw him coming back down now. He had a smile on his face and he dipped his head to catch your eyes as he made his way down, closing the huge lead he had on you on this stupid journey up the stairs.

“Noona,” he said when he’d reached your side. You felt his shoulder bump against your own and you pulled away from him. You could do the stairs on your own, thank you very much. You didn’t even want to be doing the stairs, but now that you were nearly halfway through you could feel your limbs and muscles loosening up. You did not respond to him.

“You had a face on when you came in here.” Baekhyun had stomped his way back down the stairs and was smiling now right beside you in your section of stairs. “Why?” He should have just gone back up to his own stairs.

“I had no face on,” you defended, but you knew he was probably right. You’d come in here fully expecting a romantic escapade, not a step aerobics class. He had tricked you, the cheater.

He nodded his head up and down in big dramatic movements. He was teasing you. You had fallen for his trick so easily and he knew it. Your annoyance was quietly turning into something else.

“You had a face like you were expecting something to happen in here.”

You’d made it up three flights when you had enough with the heels. You slipped them both off at the bottom of the next flight of stairs and carried one in each hand.

“I was not,” you argued. It was a feeble attempt at a lie. He was right and he knew it.

“You were,” he countered, doing an impression of your whining rebuttal. “Did you think I was going to pounce on you?” He had stopped his upward progression when you did and you turned to look into his face, no doubt making a new face now. One full of adamant denial, and perhaps you had a little bit of a pout on your lips as he openly teased you.

You did not respond with words. You did not immediately respond with a denial either and instead you turned your head to look away from the teasing look in his eyes. He must have had a gift for seeing right through you.

You lifted a foot for another step. You would be the adult today and walk away from him. Your upward step was halted though when you felt his hand wrap around your wrist and you were physically moved and you gasped out in quiet surprise to find yourself with you back against the cold cement wall of this stairwell and the warmth and length of Baekhyun’s body was suddenly and unexpectedly pressed firmly against your own. His hand that had gripped your wrist held on tight, pinning your arm down at your side.

Perhaps it was because annoyance had taken over you. You had already given up on anything like this happening in here so the feeling of him pushing against you came at such an unexpected shock that you gasped out loud, leaving your lips to hang open. His grip around your wrist was so tight you couldn't even rotate your hand from the uncomfortable way it was pinned beside you. There was a flash of warmth that surged inside of you with the gasp.

“Did you expect something like this?” His voice was a closed-in whisper. Hot and forbidden breaths fanned over your parted lips and his eyes looked into your own with just as much of that same teasing mischief deep inside the black centers of his pupils as you had seen earlier on the stairs.

“Did you follow me in here because you want me to do this to you?”

You closed your eyes. The sight of his face up close like this was too much and having his warmth and the smell of him here like this was making your already weak heart leap around inside of your chest. You wiggled your hand, trying to get him to loosen the grip he held you with. But he was everywhere already. It was useless to resist with there being so very much of him and was so little air left in your lungs to form words against him.

He was too much today. He had been misbehaving all day long and you felt so weak to every little thing he did. Never before in your entire life had you met such an opponent. You should have known you had lost long before you had even started the battle.

He wasn’t saying anything else and he hadn’t moved from the close proximity but you could feel the steady breathing from his chest against yours and the warmth of his body felt incredible given the stark contrast of the cool wall at your back.

You had to look at him. As dangerous as a game this was, you opened your eyes like he was a compulsion that you were helpless against.

He was watching your face up close and when you opened your eyes he looked at you with half lidded blinks. Something about the look in his eyes had shifted.

“Tell me we are at work.” He whispered after a swift tongue darted out to moisten his lips. “Tell me I shouldn’t kiss you. Tell me to stop.”

Gone was the teasing, this was a different look now. You could see it in his eyes; this was desire. He was quickly being overcome by it. When before had clearly just been a game, now you could feel the trouble he was in. It pressed up against your abdomen; stiff and needy. He pushed his hips up into you.

He’d fallen into his own trap. You’d been gnashing your teeth and gnawing at your own leg for hours trying to break free from it and the man had willingly put his own foot inside and now he had the audacity to be shocked when the metal teeth clamped down on him.

“You know exactly where we are, Baekhyun and you don't seem to be listening to me today anyway.” You still tasted hints of that earlier annoyance with his behavior on the back of your tongue and still you felt so weak to him.

You felt his hand move. He’d let go of your wrist now and you felt the warmth of his fingertips followed by a hot palm that moved upward along your hip, reaching the space below your breast with the smallest of pauses before his hand traveled over your bra, squeezing over the softness of your breast.

He leaned into you and his lips parted over the skin of your neck. You felt soft kisses against your skin and heard a moan of complaint from inside of him.

“It is fucking unfair how good you smell,” he groaned into you.

He moved up higher and you heard the inhale of breath beside your ear and his lips opened up as he pulled your earlobe inside his mouth and sucked, touching lightly with the tip of his tongue on the small earring you wore there.

He was a menace. An explosion of goosebumps traveled up over the crown of your scalp down the center of your spine and a small whimper left your own mouth.

“I’m sorry — I’m sorry,” he was whispering against your skin between the tiny kisses as he followed down the length of your neck. “I know I’m being bad.”

His wandering fingertips had already popped two buttons on your blouse, a peek of his thirsty eyes feasted over the exposed view of the red bra and the contrasting skin of your breasts. You felt his mouth lower, kissing the softness of your flesh, squeezing with his hands and feasting at the red marks his rough mouth left behind with desperately wild eyes. He took the breath you hadn’t yet had a chance to catch.

You felt consumed by it. You should have spoken up sooner, before you had let him change your mind, while you still had the will to fight it, that’s when you should have stopped this. Before you let it get this far.

But now — but now — Byun Baekhyun so casually set out the kindling; he had so callously pulled open that box of matches; he had so carelessly ran the red tip of that matchstick against the side of the box seeking out the friction to ignite you entirely.

How much of his childish teasing before this transpired had been to blame for your guard being down?

You felt as if you were rapidly approaching an impasse. There was an incredibly fast approaching point of no return. This was not something that could happen here. This fact was so deeply ingrained inside of your mind that no amount of lust or desire coursing through your body right now could stop the nagging you still heard ringing its alarm bells out, begging you to come to your senses and see reason.

What if someone walked into this stairwell. This was a building that was full of several hundreds of employees from all departments; how secluded really was this place? There wasn’t even a lock on any of the doors. You have been working here for years without any incidents that even shed a shadow on your character but this man; this tempting, terribly beautiful, stubbornly sexy man; surely this man and your weakness to everything about him would be your undoing.

You hadn’t given them any hints of the reality of your relationship with your assistant. And already the rumors that you heard had painted you in such a bad light. The mere idea of you and him had them calling you things like pathetic to even dream of pursuing someone clearly so far out of your league. Someone younger and someone richer and someone who was so very obviously too good for you. You knew the truth and still you had your moments when you had a hard time wrapping your head around the intense affection and attraction you felt for each other.

What would they say if someone caught wind of the events taking place right now in here, in the middle of a workday while both of you were on the clock and there was absolutely nothing to stop someone from walking into this stairwell and catching you. This was not a far fetched worry of yours, this was a very real possibility right now.

This should not be happening.

You’d be tarred and feathered. You’d be terminated and you’d never work again in this industry. Your name would be blacklisted. You would never recover any of the years wasted.

You’d be a pariah.

He would — he would be transferred to another department. And as he wandered through their hallways they would shake their heads in disbelief. Clicking their tongues while saying oh it was such a shame that someone with such power and such influence over him clearly took such advantage of him — the poor thing.

It felt like a bucket of ice water splashed over your head. Your heavy breathing, which had been solely attributed to the warmth of his body pressed against yours and his wandering hands which had moved down the curves of your hips; you felt the slow tug of his fingertips as he moved the fabric of your skirt up higher on your thighs; your breaths quickened and you gasped to catch your breath feeling the upward motion of your skirt; only instead of arousal your quick gasps for air felt more like a quiet panic was rising up inside of your chest.

The panic moved your hands. You placed a careful palm over his chest. His heartbeat raced inside of him.

“Baekhyun,” you called his name. From his lungs came a warm puff of air that warmed your skin. “Baekhyun.” You said it again, this time with a clearer and more firm voice. Your hand on his chest gave the smallest push against him.

“Baekhyun, we can’t. Not here.” His lungs pulled in hard and you felt the release of his hands on your skirt.

He had heard you. He was still pressed against you but he’d removed his face from your neck and he had removed his hands from your hips. His eyes were closed up tightly as every bit of that unbridled desperation rolled from over his body from the top of his head down to the tip of his toes and you watched the change happen on his face from up close. He licked his lips and his throat moved as he swallowed. His eyebrows furrowed together, bunching up to form a severe wrinkle on his forehead and he inhaled a very shaky breath that went down deep.

He took the smallest step back from you and then another bigger step took his heat away from you.

Your hands moved quickly to button up your blouse and you pulled your skirt back down to cover your thighs where it belonged at all times while you were in this office building.

Baekhyun had placed his hands over his face and he was working through it. The still very strong arousal; the disappointment of the denial. The sudden realization that surged through him that you had put a stop to this.

He bent at the waist with his hands on his hips and his face screwed up into a wince and his head was shaking back and forth.

“I wish you would have said something sooner,” he said under his heavy breaths; the discomfort and disappointment he was feeling was quite evident in his words and his body language. “Shit. Sorry.” His wince deepened to hear those words and whatever the accusatory meaning attached to them come out of his own mouth. With his hands off of you now, with the temptation of his body no longer pressed up against you, you could feel your mind beginning to clear.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean it like that,” he said again, even quieter. “That’s not your fault. I’m just….I am going to need a minute.”

He had turned around to face the other way. You had slipped your feet back into your shoes and you could feel the moment of temptation passing with each minute.

After a moment he turned back to face you, his cheeks pink and his eyes cast downward toward your feet. His breathing was still quite hard and you knew this had simply gone too far. He was right. You should have stopped it long before you did. You should have not let this happen the way it had. Baekhyun moved then and he sat down on the stairs and pulled the bag he had dropped at his feet onto his lap and he groaned quietly with his head leaning into his hands.

“You can head up to the 11th floor. I need to sit here and try not to think about you for a while. I’m sorry, I think I need to keep the bag.”

With your mind clear your senses picked up on a sound, something that came from below where you stood leaning against this wall on the landing of those stairs and where he sat with his head in his hands and that bag set oh so carefully over his lap.

There was a squeak. It was barely audible but it was there. The sound of a door being opened from somewhere below you. Your heart beat frantically in your throat and echoed noisily in your ears.

“Assistant Byun, did you bring the meeting printouts? Can I take a look at them real quick before we head up?”

The man wasn’t moving fast enough. You reached down and unzipped the bag, sticking a blind hand inside and feeling for a stack of papers. Baekhyun lifted his head from his hands with a small sound of confusion in his voice. You gripped the stack of papers and pulled them out; holding them up to your face and you ran your eyes frantically over the page as if you were searching the documents for the meaning of life in the universe and the very quiet footsteps that sounded out below you eventually echoed out loud enough for his face to lose its color and his eyes flew open wide in some mixture of shock and instant understanding.

He stood up suddenly, that bag still secured very much in front of him at the waist and his eyes were cast carefully down at your feet with his pupils moving quickly back and forth.

“And you included all of the talking points we discussed?”

“Yes ma’am, in the last section.” He said with his face facing down on the ground. You noticed he looked so much paler than he had looked before. No doubt a wave of deep panic had surged through him at the realization.

After a few more footsteps the view of someone, a man, wearing a crisp suit came into your peripheral view and you turned a curious face in his direction with a pleasant smile on your lips. You recognized him as one of the other managers who would be present at today’s Idea Sesh with the rest of upper management. This was one of the extremely important people in this company involved with advertising and he had so much pull you were certain that had you not stopped what you stopped from happening earlier, you would have soon found your own head on the chopping block just as you had feared.

“And here I thought I was the only one that used this stairwell,” the older man said with a wide smile. “but you are working harder than anyone else, as always.”

You smiled wider and gave a politely dismissive response.

“Can't wait to hear your ideas today,” He said as he stepped in between you and your assistant and made his way up the stairwell, his pace not faltering once. You held your breath the entire time you watched his retreating back.

When all traces of his footsteps were gone you slowly exhaled the breath you had been holding. You slowly relaxed and unclenched every single muscle in your body that had been seized up tight. When you relaxed your hold on the stack of papers the sheets rattled noisily in your hands as they trembled.

The man beside you had his face still angled downward and you saw the slow exhale of air from his lungs that he let out through pursed lips. On his face you saw an anguished look manifesting on his pretty features.

Inside of you, your emotions surged up hot. You felt vindicated and validated for every single anxious worry you’d ever considered; ever been plagued by; ever been kept up at night dreading.

“Noona,” he whispered through his parted lips. He was still looking down at the floor. “Noona, I was wrong. I am so sorry.” He was whispering and he lifted a hand to lay over his chest. You’d noticed he had dropped the bag lower now as he held it by the handles only.

He was speaking to you but his eyes refused to lift higher than waist level. This view of him grabbed your stomach and twisted it into knots. The man was worth so much. Not just in money but to you; he was so amazingly beautiful and precious in every single way and he was standing here with his head hung down in shame because of what? Because you didn’t know your place? You didn’t take the very important job you had seriously to nurture him professionally and to care for him in the way you were meant to?

“It wasn’t just you. I came in here willingly.” You were speaking quietly and calmly but even you could hear something off in your voice. This close call had been too much. Not even a whole week into the relationship and already — already.

“I played just as much a part in this.” Your own voice sounded too steady and too even. At last, at last his eyes looked up into yours. They were big and brown and they looked into your face with an expression that was full of worry.

You felt sick. Saliva pooled in your mouth and you inhaled deeply and slowly in an attempt to steady yourself, to force your mind to relax, to try and will your insides to settle down from the very real and very scary upset. You had known better than this. You had always known better.

“Actually, more than anything you have done, I’m the one going against the rules. I’m your superior. I’m the one who did wrong. I am the one who is still doing wrong, Baekhyun. I am doing something wrong — to you.”

“Noona, stop talking.” He squeezed his eyes closed momentarily and when he opened them you could see that his lids were fluttering as he tried to rein in the emotions you saw all over his face. “Stop talking like that. Please. Stop.” He was breathing harder but you knew — you knew that you were only speaking the truth.

“These rules exist for a reason, Baekhyun, and I have broken them. I’m at fault, not you and I think — I think—”

“All of that is wrong. I don't believe any of that — at all.” He shook his head back and forth and his eyes looked into yours with a desperate plea somewhere in their depths. “Don't say any more, hmm?” he begged. His eyebrows lifting up over his eyes with the tiny questioning hum.

A soft beep sounded out from somewhere inside his pocket. You both knew what it meant. It was time to leave.

It was time for the meeting, you still had three more flights of stairs to climb. You did not have time to be standing around here wiping the one stray tear you felt fall down your cheek and coming to terms with what a terrible, selfish, disgusting person you might be deep down inside.

“We have to go. I have to go,” you said and you turned away from him, taking the stairs two at a time despite the strain on your skirt and the ache in your feet from the heels. You moved quickly and behind you, you could hear his footsteps closing in behind you.

“Noona,” he was calling but you were moving. “Goddammit — please, just stop.” You heard him say. The desperation in his voice pulled hard at your heart, making its rapid beating rhythm pause — making you pause your steady progress away from him and out of this fucking stairwell and it was just enough. It was just enough for the reach of his hand to grab ahold of yours. You were on the 11th floor. Your hand wrapped around the smooth slick handle of the doorway that would put you out there in that hallway where several dozens of extremely important people would be waiting, mingling, laughing, and schmoozing.

“Baby, please.” He was calling out behind you. His grip on your hand was so tight; it rivaled the grip he had on your heart. “Tell me what you are thinking. You’re scaring me. I can't do this. I can’t — ”

You couldn't look into his face anymore. You no longer knew what was wrong or what was right and you had no idea what you could do about it either. But you knew that you needed some time just to think. You needed to sit in the silence and the peace of your own mind for hours until you came up with some sort of a solution to this. But what you knew was that you did not have that right now. You did not have that inside this stairwell with his desperate pleas holding you back.

You inhaled a steadying breath for it. You turned to him and you pulled a small smile upon your face that never even came close to reaching your eyes and wouldn't have fooled him for even a second even in pitch blackness.

You pushed through the impossible ache inside of your chest to get the words out.

“We can talk later,” you said in a whisper. “I promise, we can talk later.”

[To Be Continued]

Links: Part 1, …… Part 9, Part 10, Part 11

#exo #exo fanfiction #exo smut #baekhyun #exo fic #exo scenario #baekhyun smut #baekhyun fanfic #byun baekhyun #baekhyun angst #baekhyun series

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cyberexo · 2 years ago

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FANTASTIC BYUN | A Byun Baekhyun Series

“You were supposed to die!”

warning: this series contains cursing, mentions & includes violence, detailed injury, and death.

an; this came to me in a vivid dream i had whilst i was unwell, quite confusing but i was able to untangle it and make it into something more. There’s some stuff such as enemies -> friends etc if you squint hard enough (you don’t need to squint, it’ll be obvious) enjoy!

FANTASTIC BYUN GUIDE POST

Four Baekhyun lookalikes, two fem & two masc; Reader, Bonnie, Ben, & Bennett (Fantastic Four) They don’t exactly look like Baekhyun however, they do have some of his artificial characteristics and powers (created by author)

Baekhyun is portrayed as this series villain, the imagery created here does not portray who he is in real life in any shape or form, it is all strictly fiction. He’s sort of like spider-man, minus the suit and mask, he has spider like abilities- shooting webs, instincts, & abnormal strength. The same goes for the characters mentioned above.

Baekhyun doesn’t know of the Fantastic Four, thinks he’s the only one around with such abilities, however when he does find out- (by a group of scientists who found the Fantastic Four first) he makes it his lifes’ mission to destroy you all, not wanting there to be anyone else on earth who could replicate his abilities, copycats aren’t his favourite.

Like any other normal person would, you wanted to live, first hiding away from him in sketchy corners of different cities, any place you’d think he wouldn’t look, eventually growing tired and deciding to fight back instead.. or maybe even convincing him to join you instead of killing you, what will he choose from this ultimatum? i don’t know (i do)

I hope whoever finds this interesting enough to give it a read enjoys it, thank you in advance! <3

FANTASTIC BYUN | ONE

#fantastic byun #fantastic four #baekhyun x reader #baekhyun series #exo baekhyun #byun baekhyun #bbh #baekhyun fanfic #superhuman

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baekslight · 6 months ago

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baekhyun + that cute move during r u ridin'? combined ver.

+ lonsdaleite [dot]

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marshmallow-phd · 1 year ago

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A Manor of Shadow and Blood

Genre: Regency Gothic AU

Pairing: EXO x Reader

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5

The wind whistled against the windows like a hallowing scream. You tossed and turned, desperate to fall asleep. The first few nights had been somewhat peaceful, due to the fever having a complete hold over you. To fight it off, your body had kept you in a deep sleep, only broken by bouts of blurry consciousness.

But now… every noise made your eyelids snap open and your heart jump in pace. This unfamiliar place was full of shadows and secrets. Secrets that revolved around the men keeping you here.

Releasing a long sigh, you stared up at the canopy, the newly formed indentions in the knife floating in your mind. They weren’t there before, you were sure of that. You had used that knife to cut the chicken and it was in perfect condition. No human could bend the metal like that.

And then there was the speed at which Yixing caught your wrist.

You sat up with haste. Sleep was not going to come to you tonight. You groaned and rubbed your face with your fingers. The room slowly came into view as your eyes adjusted to the dim moonlight. You had opened the curtain before slipping into bed so you could watch the moon rise into the sky. Looking around the room, you searched for an answer on how to get yourself to sleep. There wasn’t much in this grand room. Simply a bed, a wardrobe, a dresser, the chair–

Wait.

Pushing the blanket off of your legs, you crawled across the mattress towards the chair. The shape didn’t seem right. Six legs instead of four. An extra shape in the outline.

“You should go to sleep.”

A high pitched scream ripped at your throat until a cold hand covered your mouth, cutting off the sound. Now fully bathed in the blue moonlight, you could make out the sharp features of Yixing’s face.

You shoved his arm away to free your lips. “What do you think you are doing in my room?” No gentleman would dare enter a lady’s room like this. Unless– gumption gone, you swallowed thickly. Was the reason you were trapped here finally coming to fruition?

The corner of Yixing’s mouth twitched upwards. He slinked forward like a cat cornering a mouse until his arms trapped you against the mattress, a hand on either side of your hip. Only your elbows kept you from being flat on your back, even more vulnerable.

“You’re a noisy sleeper,” he purred, his eyes flashing. “It's… distracting.”

You scoffed. None of their rooms were near yours. You were sure that all the ones around you were empty. He shouldn’t have been able to hear your tossing and turning. “Distracting?”

He hummed. His right hand lifted from the bed and reached out towards your face. You flinched at the motion, making him freeze.

But only for a moment.

The hovering fingers soon resumed their path. He didn’t make contact with your cheek, however. Instead, his fingers traced the outline of your collarbone. Down one slope and up the other. You trembled at the contact. His smirked only deepend. His fingers moved on to your shoulder, the too loose neckline of the nightgown nearly falling off.

You should slap him away, scream at him to leave, but you were too petrified to do so.

At least, you thought that was what stopped you. The coldness of his fingers moved up the curve of your neck, the tips pausing on the pulsing vein. His thumb caressed the edge of your jaw.

“Go to sleep.”

And like that, he disappeared into the night like smoke from a dying ember.

You didn’t hear or see the door open or close, but you knew you were alone now.

And you were furious.

How dare he come here! How dare he–

Your feet hit the floor, heavy and without a care of being heard. Sleep, in protest of that madman’s orders, would now be impossible. Anger and frustration at your situation fueled something new within you.

You weren’t sure what it was or what it would lead to, but you followed it without question. Donning soft slippers and a thicker slip dress, you found a candle in the top drawer, along with a few matches and a holder. You lit the candle and left your room.

Out. You needed to find a way out. Perhaps if you could get ahold of a piece of paper and a pen then you could write–

But how would you get it to someone who could take it to your family?

This place–somewhere in its halls or dusty room–had to hold the key. Something here had to be your savior, something to make this hope not without merit.

You pinched the candleholder tightly in your hand. The tiny flame danced before your eyes, occasionally catching your attention away from where you were going. All of your senses were heightened, on the lookout for the next corner’s surprise. If one of them was awake at this hour, then more could be as well. Running into one of them could be detrimental–or a possibility for answers. Perhaps if you could get one of the others, one of the less… frightful ones, you might be able to plead for help. One surely would take pity on you.

Or they would simply take advantage of the isolation.

Though that fear lingered in the back of your mind, you kept on your quiet steps.

There wasn’t much you could see with the light of the candle. The floors, like your room, were of wood boards somewhat taken care of. Portraits and landscapes hung on the walls, but their colors had faded, no longer holding the joy of life they once had captured.

Taking a left at a fork in the hall, you came to a large door that didn’t open like the others. It slid sideways on wheels like a ladder against tall bookshelves. As carefully as you could, you pushed the door open and glanced inside.

The room was just a simple parlor, with an unlit fireplace and several stuffed chairs accompanied by small side tables. Most likely an unused smoke room for the gentlemen to disappear to after dinner.

Across the room was another door, though this one seemed to be the normal kind that swung on hinges. On the other side was probably another hallway. A connecting room like this could be useful as a quick getaway, should the need arise. You mentally noted its existence and stepped inside, slowly sliding the door closed behind you. With a deep breath, you started for the other door.

“I don’t recall you being given free reign of the manor.”

You nearly dropped the candle from the unexpected voice. Careless! You should have inspected the room closer and then you would have seen Sehun clearly leaning back in one of the chairs, fully facing you. His expression was a friendly one, but rather one of deep irritation. It would seem you interrupted… something. Or maybe your mere existence was enough to annoy him.

“I wasn’t explicitly told to stay in my room,” you argued, though not in a particularly strong voice. “Is there something wrong with me walking about?”

Sehun stood from the chair with inhuman grace. You had never seen someone move so smoothly, without fault or twitch. He had complete control of his lithe limbs and tall stature. Gangly would never apply to him. His steps were noiseless as he sauntered closer, stopping a foot or two away.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he snarled. “It’s stupid to roam where you shouldn’t be.”

“Stupid?” It was one thing for you to scold yourself in your private thoughts, but you would not be insulted this way. “If I am so unwelcomed in this room then you can simply ask for me to leave.” You raised an eyebrow in challenge, hoping that would cover the pounding of your fearful heart.

He didn’t appear to notice. His jaw shifted left to right, but no words left his lips.

“Well, then.” You took your eyes away from him and started for the other door, holding on to that tiny bit of triumph.

An arm as strong as an iron bar flashed before you, blocking your way and refusing to move. Sehun’s palm was spread along the faded green pain of the wall. You shoved and pushed at the barrier, but nothing even made him flinch. He encroached, leaving behind any sense of personal space, much like Yixing just an hour before. He loomed over you, his upper lip curling into a mixture of a snarl and smirk.

“That bravery is a mistake,” he hissed. You pressed your back against the wall and brought the candle close to you as if that tiny flame was enough to keep him at bay.

Which was exactly the reaction he wanted. A sly, wicked smirk fully took over.

Pursing his lips, he blew once, snuffing out the flame. For a few seconds, you were absolutely blind in the sudden darkness. Sehun was invisible to you, despite his closeness. However, you could feel his breath against your chin. It was cold, like a winter’s breeze. It should have been warm. Human breathes were warm.

That chilling breath grew closer. It traveled from your nose to your cheek and then to your hair, ruffling the strands against your ear. Something nudged against your temple. He took a long, deep breath. His nose. Was he… smelling you?

Your eyes began to adjust to the darkness, absorbing any bits of moonlight that broke through the heavy curtains hanging from the short windows above your head. All you could see of Sehun was the slope of his shoulder and the outline of his hair.

His head snapped up, making you squeak. But he didn’t acknowledge the jump, his eyes turned towards the hallway you had entered from. A low hiss vibrated in his chest. You could nearly feel it in your own. He glanced at you once, his eyes shining unnaturally in the dark. Then, he ran from the room at a speed no man should possess.

You ran back to your room, the candle still gripped tightly by your side. Panic gripped you so completely that you passed the door to your sanctuary the first time. Once inside, you desperately searched for a way to lock the door. There was none. Alright. Fine. You would barricade the door then.

Huffing shallow breaths, you pulled and pushed the armchair so it acted like a weight against the door. It might not be heavy enough to keep it shut forever, but at least entering would be a struggle. You had tried the more fortifying dresser first, but it had refused to shift even a centimeter. The chair was the best you could do.

Ripping the blanket off of the bed, you draped the heavy fabric over your shoulders and sat down on the floor under the window. Your gaze stayed trained on the door, ears straining for the slightest sound to alert you for whoever came for you next. Sehun's cold breath still lingered against your skin. You rubbed at your cheek to try and make it go away. So close. He'd been so close.

And Yixing. That was why you couldn't be on the bed. Not tonight. Maybe not tomorrow. Or even the night after that. It was tainted. You shivered at the memory of his closeness and pulled the blanket in closer. That one long cloth was now your shield, your protection. The object that kept you safe. In your mind, at least. In truth, it would be ripped away from you as easily as water slipping through your fingers. But the thought was enough.

You tucked your chin in between the folds and kept watching the door. Soon, the night would get lighter. Already, the darkness didn't seem as strong.

How long until one of them came? Until someone tried to push their way inside? You hoped it would be a long time. Even hoped that they would forget about you and you could find a way to make it out, survive the forest, and see your family again. The odds weren't in your favor, but that hope was a life line.

As the moonlight shifted, your eyes grew heavy. It was a battle to keep them open. Each time they fluttered closed, you lost ground. Sleep that had eluded you so easily before now came back to reclaim its time. The door blurred before you and then sleep claimed its victory.

Tap, tap, tap.

Your eyes blinked open. It was still night. Or, perhaps, it was night again. This darkness felt new. The beginning of a fresh night.

Tap, tap.

You looked up at the window above your head.

Tap, tap, tap.

Little black dots hit the window before disappearing out of view. You frowned and pushed up off the floor, the protective blanket falling to the floor. Still emerging from sleep, your eyes took a moment to bring the scene into focus. At first, you merely saw a blur amongst the grass.

Then, it took shape.

You groaned. Jongdae was waving at you to come down.

You shook your head furiously. Safety was in here. And... though he didn’t feel quite as dangerous as the others, he still made you weary. The memories of Sehun and Yixing were still burnt freshly into your mind.

At your refusal, he visibly sighed. In his other hand hung a small cloth bag. He pulled a small bun from the bag and held it up to you. Your stomach grumbled and gurgled in response. It looked… nice. You could almost smell the bread's delectable scent. Were you really going to give in to food?

You needed an ally, you told yourself. He was different from the others. How much you weren't sure, but perhaps you could use that. If you could make him sympathetic to you–

Mind made up, you turned from the wind and changed into more appropriate clothing. This time, you heeded Jongdae's advice and kept your hair down to cover your neck. It felt highly improper, like a hundred governesses would appear from nowhere to scold you for being so scandalous. But you shoved the invisible tsking women away and moved the chair just enough to exit into the hallway.

It took some time to find your way outside. Jongdae now waited for you with his back against a lone tree that looked to be one more winter away from death.

"I'll note that food is a way to entice you out."

You glared at him. "Did you have a reason for standing under my window instead of knocking on the door like a normal person?"

"Junmyeon had tried to bring you breakfast around sunrise," he said as he inspected the perfectly browned bun still in his hand. "He couldn't get in, though."

"I blocked the door," you explained casually.

Jongdae raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed by some measure. “Quick learner."

"After some… events last night, precaution was necessary."

"Yixing has restraint." He pushed off the tree and held the bun out to you. "You were lucky that Sehun was called off of you, though. His self-control is... lacking."

You gaped at him, heat rising fiercely in your cheeks. "How did you–”

“Know?" he smirked. "Secrets don't exist here. Best you learn that quickly."

You narrowed your gaze at him. "No secrets?"

Seeing right through you, he laughed, leaning forward and close to your face. "From us. Not for you."

The pure arrogance in that reply. "That hardly seems fair."

"That's life,” He shrugged. Looking around for nothing in particular, he said, “Let's take a walk."

The roll broke easily against your teeth. You chewed on the bite, resisting the urge to moan at its delicious flavor. The inside was still soft and fresh. Finally swallowing, you refused him a single step. "Why?"

"You've been sleeping on a hard floor all day,” he said pointedly. You didn’t want to think about how he possibly knew that. "You need to move." For an extra enticement, he held up the linen bag. More where that came from, he said without speaking.

The bun in your hand, though all of its warmth was gone, was like heaven in your stomach. But it certainly wouldn't be enough. "Fine."

You followed him alongside the house, not bothering to speak so you could continue eating. The last of the orange glow of day disappeared into the horizon far ahead of you. Yes, you had really slept for all those sunlit hours. Once again, night, it would seem, was to be your day. Chewing on the last bit of bun, you held your hand for the next morsel.

"We’re greedy this evening," Jongdae chuckled.

"Did you think I came for your company?" You couldn’t help but give a spiteful response.

Not offended in the slightest, he threw you a rather despicable smile. "Better my company then one of the others."

Though you agreed, you refused to do so aloud. "Are you that different from them?"

He didn't answer. Staring ahead, he reached into the bag and pulled out another bun, holding it out for you.

"Is this to keep me from asking more questions?"

You managed to make him chuckle. "No. Just to keep you occupied while I answer the last one."

Too curious, you accepted the bun and took a bite. Jongdae sighed and clasped his hands behind his back, the now nearly empty bag dangling from his fingertips. "We're all different from each other. I'm not more different from them. Though I am better than the others at controlling myself."

Your steps faltered. "Controlling yourself?"

He nodded. As you passed under another tree, he reached out and swing up into the branches without exerting effort, sitting on a branch well out of your own reach.

"What are you? All of you,” you asked in a breathy gasp. All they were capable of doing was adding up, but logic told you repeatedly it was impossible. You wanted to try and rationalize it, even try to convince yourself that you were still sick with fever. But this was all too real to be a mere hallucination. What it all meant, however, you couldn’t understand.

Hands grasped around two of the branches, he leaned forward and closed the gap between you. "You seem moderately intelligent. I'm sure you can discover the answer on your own."

"As flattering as that is," you huffed through clenched teeth, "if the answer means danger then you should be the man to tell me."

"If?" Jongdae laughed, as if he had read your mind. He jumped from the tree, flattening the bits of hair that had fallen out of place with his fingers. Despite playing in the tree like a child, he looked ever so the gentleman.

"’If' is a fantasy.” He glanced behind you. Scared, you followed his gaze, but there was no one there. When you turned back around, you gasped. His nose was mere centimeters from yours. "It does mean danger. You need to keep your eyes and ears open. Happy or not, you are here for a long while and no one is coming for you.''

You swallowed back tears as his words planted firmly in your heart. Now, you truly accepted it. No running, no escape. You were at their mercy. Whatever they were. And though Jongdae gave the impression that he was on your side, his help was firmly limited. Food and company, that was all he was good for.

Walking once again, you solemnly finished the last bit of bun as Jongdae kept pace. When the second helping of bread ran out, you chewed on your next few words. If you were here for the foreseeable future, you might as well know this land’s history.

"Who’s house is this?"

"Hm?" Jongdae had been lost in thoughts of his own, it appeared. He blinked himself back to the present conversation. "Oh. The manor is Kyungsoo's."

"Kyungsoo's?" you repeated. Odd. The answer you had been expecting was the obvious: Junmyeon. He seemed to be the one everyone looked to for answers or leadership. His word was law, yet this land did not fall to him. Kyungsoo, on the other hand, felt too... isolated, cut away to be the rightful owner of this grand place. The few lords you had met before all possessed the same self-awareness and high opinion of themselves. Kyungsoo didn’t give the appearance that he cared about either.

"Yes,” Jongdae nodded, his previous teasing gone now. “He inherited it from his father. The family used to own as much land as the eye could see. But his father was a gambler. Terrible at cards, wonderful at losing. They had to sell the land to keep the debtors at bay. Now, all that is left is this manor and a bit of the surrounding land, but no tenants. The glory of the family is now reduced to this.”

You listened to the story with careful respect. It was one sadly more common among the nobility then they wished to admit. Land was constantly switching family names, sometimes it was difficult to keep track. A small fear you had was accidentally reminding a high nobility of their careless ancestor. "What's his family name?"

"Jongdae! Here's where you disappeared off to."

Your stroll in the moonlight stuttered to a halt.

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