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yuzukult · 4 years ago

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drive safe (m) || bbh x reader

title: drive safe pairing: baekhyun x reader genre: brothersbestfriend!au, chanyeol!olderbrother, romance warnings: slight rated 18+ scene, but it’s short and poorly written words: 12.4k prompt: simply put, you’ve been crushing on your brother’s best friend for the longest time but he hasn’t seen you in a while... and you’ve grown. notes: needed something different to write :) please enjoy... i did another brother’s best friend au bc i just love baekhyun in that kind of au lmao... I FINALLY UPLOADED!!!

He was heavily intoxicating. From the whiff of the cologne he wears to the way his lips look, so tempting and plump, all the way to the sweet melodic laugh that escapes from his throat, hand on his toned chest to contain himself.

This man was beautiful—correction— is beautiful, and has always been since you’ve laid your eyes on him.

You recall those days staying in the living room until the late hours of the night; coffee table filled with loose papers and opened textbooks to cram in for your exams, room lacking a desk for you to work on. Your brother would trail into your home once the street lights turn on, friends joining him occasionally, none capturing your attention until you met him one night.

Mocha eyes that sparkled under the dim lights at the front steps, caramel hair that looked so unbelievably soft, that you had to restrain yourself down from asking him to just let you run your fingers through those locks. Jawline chiseled, cheekbones high, and ears flushing coral when he gets embarrassed—he was just breathtakingly beautiful. And when he leans over to see what you’re currently engrossed in, supple cheeks raising as high as the sky from his smile, teeth pearly white and exposed, his gentle voice hypnotizes you to the point that you almost miss when he says his name.

“I’m Byun Baekhyun.” How the hell is he so pretty? “You must be Chanyeol’s little sister.”

Your Cloud 9 experience disappears at the sound of your brother’s name. It’s like he loves to burst the bubble of any type of happiness your way. He never fails to ruin things for you.

Then again, that was back when you were 16 and he was 22. He was in college, finishing up the remaining time he had left while you were just a mere high school student—not to mention that you were also his best friend’s little sister. This time, you’re 22 and he’s the 28 year old, finished college with a career outlined for him and you’re the one trying to finish up the last year.

So when Baekhyun stands at the threshold of your parent’s house behind Chanyeol, mouth agape at the mere sight of you, he’s in complete shock at how much you’ve grown and changed in the past years. To say the least, he hasn’t seen much of you around since you turned 18... and well, he was regretting missing the glow up.

“Why are you looking at my sister like that?” Chanyeol hisses, pushing his friend’s chest back with a finger. “You act like you’ve never seen her before.” Baekhyun can only shake his head from his thoughts, clearing his throat. “I haven’t seen her since she left for college.”

A hum from you fills the air, grasping the attention of the two males. “I’ve been back every holiday, not my fault you haven’t been around.”

Turning on your heel, you make your way past them, slipping into a pair of random sandals at the front door before greeting the rest of your family members that begin to trickle in for the annual family dinner. Every year is dreadful, but this year got interesting just from Baekhyun’s attendance.

He was every high school girl’s wet dream.

And at the same time, dream boyfriend.

He’s cute yet he’s got this aura around him that just makes him so... sexy. You recall having high school friends over during those younger years and when Baekhyun and Chanyeol would walk through the front doors, your friends would drool at the sight of the boys. You couldn’t really agree on the Chanyeol portion of that (obviously), but your saliva would run rivers length long at the appearance of Baekhyun.

What was even worse was that both your brother and dad were horrible at teaching you how to drive. This was after you’ve concluded that you had a crush on Baekhyun, and Chanyeol suggests to your parents to hire Baekhyun to teach you how to drive a car.

“Dad, you and I both know that we’re way too short-tempered to teach her. Why not hire Baek?”

“I don’t see why not.” He nods in agreement, glancing over at your mom for approval, but she’s already so giddy over the moon from the sound of his name. “Of course! My second son teaching my daughter? Why would I have any issues with that? I’ll pay him, don’t worry.”

You want to die. “Why can’t you teach me, mom? We don’t really want to bother Baek and pressure him to teach me, right?”

“Actually,” Chanyeol grins; you swear every time he does it’s mischievous with a sinful plan hidden underneath. “Baekhyun is rather quite the angel and offered himself when I brought this situation to him. He doesn’t even want to get paid for it, I just offered.” Are you kidding me? Of course. Chanyeol wants you dead.

You think you actually die when you’re sitting in Baekhyun’s car in the middle of an abandoned supermarket’s parking lot. The two of you. No sign of Chanyeol anywhere, and it’s the first time you wished that your brother were there.

“Yeol isn’t coming?”

“No,” Baekhyun frowns, pulling the seatbelt over his body and locking it in; you mimic his actions to save yourself from getting lectured by the boy of your dreams. “He said he was either going to die from your driving or high blood pressure.” You exhale a heavy breath. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Afraid of being alone with me or something, little Park?”

“Uh, no.” You lie. “Can I start?”

“Sure, show me what you know.” Pressing a foot on the brakes, you push the key into the ignition and the car roars at the start. “Are you sure you trust me driving in your car? Isn’t this girl your baby?” There’s an afterthought of Baekhyun getting this car; almost begging Chanyeol everyday to go by the second-hand car dealership to admire this beauty—well that is if you consider a 2002 Lexus SC430 with the once jet black paint chipping off a beauty, then you’d be able to relate.

He nods, licking his chapped lips from the breeze that enters in before letting out a soft sigh. “She is, so... be careful, little Park, and drive safe. I trust you to drive her. I don’t even allow Yeol to let alone touch her, so consider yourself special.” Special. Can he not say such things while you’re already anxious about being in his presence, let alone his car!

Baekhyun teaches you to drive. Another great quality he has to add to the list from that occurrence: patience. He’s the one who opened the doors exiting out of your childhood in two ways: learning how to drive and learning what it feels like to like someone. It’s the first time you’re alone with him and you’ll never forget it. It only solidified your feelings for him.

And so when you’re ready to pick up your friends for the night that you first get your license, borrowing your brother’s car, your heart swells and bursts out of your chest when he approaches your window before you pull out of the driveway. Resting his arm on the door, joy tugs on the edges of his lips. “Drive safe, will you, little Park? I know I taught you well, but I still want you home safe and sound.”

Baekhyun might be the actual cause of your death.

“So, I heard you’re in for engineering? You’re finishing up your last year, aren’t you?”

You hum against the glass that’s pressed onto your lips, drinking in the cold water to cool yourself from the sweltering heat. Summer was supposed to be over now, but since you’re in the off-season, the weather was currently in its moods, switching on and off like a middle aged woman dealing with menopause.

Popping your lips after releasing the cup, you nod. “Finally going to grab my degree and get to do what I actually want to be doing.” You want to be out of this conversation with this... woman; you’re not even sure who she was and what relation she had to your family. A cousin, maybe? An aunt? What do you even refer to her as?

“Wow, amazing!” She exclaims as she clasps her hands together abruptly that it startles you. “My son would be a perfect match for you, he’s handsome, young...” Her voice starts to drift off at the same time that your eyes do, skimming to find your brother’s right hand man, and with your luck, his gaze is locked on yours.

He’s been watching you the entire time.

Baekhyun’s got a red solo cup in a hand, body leaning against the white plastic fence that perimeters your deck, hair pushed back to reveal his effortlessly beautiful forehead, and just the view of the first couple buttons of his shirt let loose, you felt your knees buckle. He bites his bottom lip in light of gaining your attention— one he’s been trying to snatch the entire afternoon. He’s standing besides Chanyeol, as expected since he is his guest, but they hang almost joined at the hip and just the thought of it makes you want to roll your eyes. But when his stare locks into yours and he mouths, “come over,” you’re immediately complying with his demands.

“I’m sorry,” You interrupt the strange woman, turning to face her. “Aren’t we related? Are you trying to set me up with your son... who potentially is my cousin?”

“Oh no! I’m just a family friend; your aunt invited me over!” With that, it only results in you clicking your tongue in disappointment, bowing to the woman apologetically. This was a waste of time. “I’m sorry, I’m not interested in being set up. Now, if you would excuse me...”

She’s probably shocked, from what you can tell on the little smirk and chuckle coming from Baekhyun as you make your way toward him, arm reaching out for a side hug. “My little Park, all grown up, aren’t you?”

“Well, I’m not sixteen anymore, so possibly.” You joke.

Talking to Baekhyun felt effortless. Almost as though he wasn’t that same guy you knew when you were growing up. The crush that had looked so out of reach, too cool and attractive for you indeed seemed like he was on the same level. Bantering came easy and there were more things in common between the two of you than you previously assumed. As if this entire time… you were surrounding him with an image of what you thought he was but it wasn’t solely who he had been.

“Ah, so you agree. You think you’re handsome.”

“Are you trying to quote a ‘Mean Girls’ line on me?” He asks, eyes squinting in your direction coltishly. Raising both your hands up in feigned defeat, you tug your lips into a straight line. “Oh, you caught me, copyright police. But I believe I merely paraphrased the movie.” He lifts his brows at you skeptically, arms crossed against his chest. “Paraphrased?”

“I’m sure that the line goes like ‘so you agree, you think you’re really pretty.’“

“Maybe not me, but I think you’re pretty.” Baekhyun grins cheekily. It’s not exactly a smooth line, you admit, but anything coming from Baekhyun inflates your heart, reminiscing the old high school feelings that stirred. “Mm, cute. But not exactly slick, Baek. Slimy, possibly.”

He seethes in disagreement. “Oh, little Park, I’ll have you know that I am not slimy; I am very much a gentleman.”

“Some gentlemen have a slimy side of them.” You clarify with a tilt of your head.

“I can assure you that I am not slimy but rather smooth and creamy.”

You grimace. “I’m not sure this conversation is going into the right direction.” Pausing for a moment, you cluster the fortitude to belatedly ask: “So, why haven’t you been around for the holidays like you used to? My mom missed having you around during the holidays.”

Baekhyun purses his lips, taking in a deep breath before speaking up. “Honestly, I’ve always had a girlfriend during the holidays. Otherwise I would’ve been over. Unfortunately, those four years that I haven’t been at your house meant four different girlfriend’s family homes that I’ve been to instead of yours.” Of course, Baekhyun couldn’t be without a girl on his arm. Just look at him!

“Mmm,” You buzz in a judging tone that sharpens his focus on you. “Disappointing. Anyways,” Jumping on the tips of your toes, you lean over to peek into his cup. “Whatcha got in there, Baek?”

“Wanna smell?” He brings the cup closer to your face, underneath your nose as your face twists at the strong scent of alcohol. “What the hell is that?”

He lets out a laugh at your expression. “Its just beer—“

“—that is definitely not just beer. What did you put in that?” Baekhyun brings the drink neighboring your nostrils again. “It’s IPA, sometimes they have weird smells to it. Sometimes it even smells like weed.”

You take a second glance at him, hesitant about trying this peculiar drink. You’ve had beer before— hell, you’d had tons of types of alcohol before, but you can safely say that IPA beer isn’t one of them. The liquid hits your tongue, barely any if you’re being completely honest, and you pull away. “Eugh,”

“Eugh?” Baekhyun imitates your reaction. “You don’t like?”

“Not exactly.” You frown, stepping back from the drink in his hand. “How do you even drink that? It’s such an acquired taste to enjoy it.”

“I guess I had a lot of different kinds of alcohol while I was in University, but IPA wasn’t one of them so I gave it a shot. Kinda like them now, not what we’re usually used to.”

“You make yourself sound like you’re old.” And with that, he taps your nose with the tip of his index finger. “And I am old. In comparison to you, little Park.”

That’s when it hits. Baekhyun can be sweet, kind, flirtatious, but one thing he can’t be is someone who could ever reciprocate feelings for you. Even if you’ve grown out of those braces, awkward puberty stages, and now an adult woman who is somewhat confident in your body— Byun Baekhyun will always see you as one thing only— Little Park, Park Chanyeol’s kid sister.

“Right,” You respond quickly, distancing yourself from him a bit and Baekhyun feels the atmosphere shift. “I think my dad needs me to help him handle the grill.”

“Chanyeol’s over there.” Baekhyun retorts back as abruptly. “Are you okay? Is it something I said?”

“No.” You reply, prepared to turn away and say your goodbyes to the older male, but his hand grasps onto your wrist, causing you to wrinkle your brows in confusion. “Baek?”

“Talk to me. What did I say? I like talking to you and it’d be nice to keep this conversation going.” You tilt your head in perplexity. “Okay. That’s great and all but I’ve had a raging crush on you since I was like sixteen. I’m kind of over this whole thing and I’m ready to keep you as my brother’s best friend that I had a crush on when I was entering the early stages of puberty—”

“Wait, you liked me?”

A look of incredulity spreads on your face. “You didn’t know?” He shakes his head slowly, gaze trailing to the concrete ground as if he’s trying to replay the history of your relationship, attempting to find the hints smeared throughout the years. “Well, I did, and if I’m being honest, you’re great and everything, but I don’t think I can muster enough courage to build a friendship with you if I still have these somewhat lingering feelings.”

Seconds before you’re escaping his hold, his grip tightens. “I didn’t know.” He reiterates your words, eyes finally meeting yours. “Why didn’t you tell me? And why are you telling me this now? And at your family reunion at that?”

“I... don’t know.” You shrug, body language signaling that you’d stay and his hand on your loosens. “I guess I’m tired of being called little Park and seen as Yeol’s baby sister when I’ve been pining over this unrequited love.”

“You can’t even say that when I didn’t even know you liked me.”

“Oh, come on, Baek,” Groaning, your shoulders dropping in exhaustion from this entire conversation. “You’re the epitome of every girl’s first crush. Not to mention that you get along with my family. Pretty much the easiest formation of a perfect guy for a girl who was just finally realizing how cute guys were.”

Baekhyun scrunches up his nose, placing his drink down on the table beside him. “You never made it obvious.”

“Oh please, I was very obvious. Even Chanyeol probably knew about it.”

“Don’t say that, I really didn’t know! I’m sure your brother doesn’t either.” Eventually, you’re able to step far back enough that he can’t hold you back anymore. “It’s fine, Baek, I totally get it. Enjoy your night here? I’m going to socialize a bit more—I mean help my dad with the grill. Whichever one first, uh, you get the gist.”

“Oh, wow, your son is... actually pretty good looking.” You’re back in this discussion with the same strange woman before, but this time with your blood-related aunt who was the one to convince the lady to talk to you in the first place. She’s skimming through pictures she has saved of him, yet again trying to persuade into talking to her lovely son. He’s cute, you admit. He’s a year younger but that wasn’t going to turn you away. His mom, however, is coming off a bit too strong and your aunt was trying her best to pull her back.

“See? I told you! I invited him to come join us tonight, maybe you’d catch him here!” The woman claps her hands together excitedly, over the moon that you’d agreed to her perspective. “Speaking of my lovely boy, there he is!”

And right when you face the direction she points, you see him—sun-kissed skin with his hair gelled back, tall as a skyscraper with the longest legs ever—this guy was built like a God. His eyes skim the room, but before they can meet with his mother’s, he spots someone approaching him and a smile tugs on the edges of his lips.

“Baekhyun, I didn’t know you knew this family?”

Of course he knows Baek.

They’re exchanging a handshake, and you’re flaring your nostrils because how small is this world? Regardless, you’re not going to let Baekhyun ruin your day. No way.

“Park Chanyeol’s my friend,” He responds, placing a hand in his pocket. “And you’re here for?”

“My mom is here, she asked me to come. Son duties, you know the drill.” The younger male shakes at his own statement before giving Baekhyun a pat on the shoulder. “I’ll catch up with you later. She wants me to meet some girl she thought was cute, so we’ll see how that goes. See you in a bit?”

Baekhyun nods in confirmation, letting him go and as he watches his figure make his way through the crowd, that’s when he notices something. You’re standing next to a middle-aged woman—and is... is Lucas walking toward you?

“Hey mom,” The towering man smiles, giving his mom a hug. “I’m here as you asked. I’m assuming this lovely lady...” The lady introduces you to her son, and he extends his hand. “I’m Lucas.”

Baekhyun is pissed. If you saw his expression right now, the smoke coming out his ears would’ve been conspicuous.

Lucas isn’t... the smartest guy you’ve ever met but at least he’s sweet and kind?

Momma’s boy, a big one at that and you find it charming that he’s so loving and caring towards his mother. A great son... however, as a boyfriend, you can already guess what the bigger fights were going to be about.

“So my mom tells me that you’re almost done school, how’s that going for you?” The two of you have migrated over to one of the picnic tables in the backyard, old and wooden yet still surprisingly structurally strong enough to hold the weight of multiple people... and thankfully without his mom. Least she knows when to leave you alone.

“Going good, I can’t wait to get it over with and start working. School is dreadful.”

“Oh, yeah, I know that much. That’s why I didn’t go to college.” No college, not a bad thing, you think to yourself. After all, it’s what you make out of it, right? “Instead, I chose the modeling path.” What. Well, it made sense. Lucas is the equivalent to a God in looks, and you were starting to wish you were exaggerating. Probably another red flag if you guys started dating—he’s too pretty for his own good and girls would probably be crawling at his feet and your level of jealousy can’t handle that.

“Modeling? That’s impressive! How’s it going for you?”

“Slow this season. But it’ll pick up eventually. I’m only twenty-one anyways. College was never for me so I figured anything else would be better. My mom always told me that I was handsome, so why not put what I already have to use, you know?” Other than the fact you wanted to correct him and tell him that twenty-one is actually peak age for modeling, you wanted to laugh a bit because he was convinced to chase after this specific goal solely from the compliments of his mother, his biggest fan who happens to be blinded by love. Either way, Lucas was lucky he was cute enough to be a model or this conversation would’ve been embarrassing.

“If you like it, go for it. I don’t see a problem with it.” A gust of wind blows in your direction and it makes you shiver.

He smiles. “I like that. Not a lot of people agree with the whole modeling thing. Even my ‘mentor’ kind of blows off the idea and pressures me to go to college to find a ‘real’ career.”

“Mentor, huh? Has he considered giving you trade school as an option?”

“And get my hands dirty? No way. These hands were made for modeling, not being someone’s plumber and playing with pipes.” An image forms in your head— Lucas... as a plumber? Oh... that’s... kind of hot. His voice interrupts your thoughts in the end, and you want to frown until you see someone approaching. “Speaking of my mentor... have you met Baekhyun?”

Baekhyun is standing at the end of the table; although he seems nice toward Lucas, you can feel the cold air coming from him. “We’ve met.” He says, words short and sharp. “Known her since she was a high school student.”

“Oh, nice, were you also her mentor, hyung?”

“What?” Baekhyun responds, the space on his forehead crinkles. “No I wasn’t her mentor, I’m a friend of her brother’s,” slightly annoyed by Lucas’ question. You can’t seem to place a finger on why he would be so... discomposed. “Have you applied to those colleges I sent to you, by the way?”

“Hyung, I told you that college wasn’t for me. I don’t get why you’re pushing me so hard.”

“Lucas, you’re not going to be young forever. What are you going to do when you’re 40? Be in those Viagra commercials? Advertisements where the elderly have ‘fallen and can’t get up’? Be realistic here.”

It’s Lucas’ turn to be upset, and rightfully so. “Hyung, you’re embarrassing me in front of my new friend. Who— by the way, is very supportive of my endeavors.” Baekhyun scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief and disapproval. “Supportive? Actually, give us a moment, Luc, I have to speak with her privately.” Grabbing onto your wrist, he tugs you from your seat, and you whimper at the aggressiveness.

“What the hell! Baek, let go, your grip is tight.”

Taking you inside the house, he walks through the hallways while dragging you when he sees the familiar door that leads to your bedroom, shoving it open before shutting it after the two of you are inside. He lets go of his grip. “Explain.”

You sneer at his demand. “Explain what? I didn’t do anything. You should be explaining because you dragged me here.”

“Just thirty minutes before, you profess your feelings for me and then you’re talking to some guy? What the hell is that?” You jaw tightens but you want to retain your emotions since his were spilling. There was never a good outcome if two people that were butting heads are acting upon only feelings.

So you walk over to your closet, sliding the doors open in search of a sweater but this only makes him infuriated. “Answer me— why are you looking through your closet while we’re having a conversation?” Snatching a hoodie off the hanger, you pull it over your head. “I’m cold. And you’re the one who is having a conversation. Well, not really a conversation, more like you’re lecturing me.”

“I am not lecturing you. I’m trying to read you and you’re not making it any easier for me.”

“What are you reading me for?” With the hood over your head with the end of your dress peeking out of the oversized fabric, he thinks you’re cute like this and he can’t help himself. Lunging toward you, his hands cup your cheeks and before you know it, his lips are pressed yours.

Baekhyun is kissing you.

Byun Baekhyun, your brother’s right hand man, your parents favorite non-blood related child, is kissing you. He has to force himself to pull away; he never thought that your lips would be so soft, and how right it felt in that moment.

Your fingers reach up to touch your lips and you’re left speechless for a moment before the words erupts from your mouth. “Did you just kiss me?” He’s just as dumbfounded as you are because all he does is nod in return. “Why’d you do that?”

“Look, I don’t know if I have the same exact feelings for you like you do for me but seeing you with Lucas in that way... pissed me off. I didn’t like it.” Baekhyun looks troubled because he’s letting his hands run through his chocolate locks that were styled previously. “But I think I like you. I never really thought anything of it until you said something... but maybe we can give this a try?”

You squint your eyes at him. “Baekhyun, this isn’t something you just ‘try.’ I don’t want to be lead on. You can’t just say that you ‘think’ you like me and walk in like you own me or something.”

“At least give me a chance to make this work. Obviously something happened back there because I was ticked off enough to embarrass my mentee in front of you.” He sighs, dropping his body onto your made childhood bed. “Poor kid.”

“Eh, he’ll be fine. He needs something anyway. I heard he lives in his mother’s basement, which is fine I guess, but despite not going to college, he has debt?” Baekhyun glares at you from underneath his long luscious lashes, but it’s light and he’s not upset anymore. “Don’t make fun of my mentee, I’m supposed to guide him!”

“Do better.” You retort before plopping your body beside him on your bed, laying down flat on the covers. “I’ll give you a chance. But we can’t tell Chanyeol. If it doesn’t work out, then it’s a secret and he doesn’t have to worry. If it leads to more... let’s just wait ‘til that time comes and we can figure something out.”

You can’t see him from where you are, but the sound of his voice is a dead giveaway that he’s smiling at your words. “I like the sound of that.”

“Aw, look at that, my best friend and my kid sister. Where were you guys?” Chanyeol looks a bit tipsy with his hooded eyes and crooked smile, but he’s only spilling elation when he slips in his socks and into the arms of Baekhyun when the two of you exit your room.

“Uh, I wanted to move my desk and Baek offered to help.” Yeah. That’s a good excuse.

“Mm, could’ve always asked me. But of course, Baekhyun here is an angel and loves to help out my family. Wouldn’t it be amazing if he was our brother?” The expression on your face cringes in disgust, the thought of Baekhyun being your brother and it’s like he reads your mind when he catches Chanyeol stumbling in his arms, pulling the taller male up. “You don’t want me as your brother, Yeol, that’s weird. Maybe I’ll date my way into your family,” He jokes, and you mouth ‘too soon!’ in his direction as he gives an unapologetic shrug shared with a smile.

“Who... her?” Chanyeol points to you with his chin, brows crinkles but releases with a laugh. “No way, man. She’s not even your type.”

“She can be my type.” The expression on Baekhyun’s face was pained, attempting to hold him up. “Little Park is pretty.”

“Mm, but she’s the serious type and you’ve had probably ten ‘serious’ girlfriends in the past four years!” He exclaims as you’re guiding the two of them toward Chanyeol’s bedroom, swinging open the door. “Little Park hasn’t even brought a boyfriend home.... heh, mom thinks she can’t get a boyfriend.”

You hiss. “That’s not true.” Chanyeol sticks his tongue out at you and you get a hit of vodka coming from his breath. “I think it’s true.” He sings, dropping his large frame onto the bed, eyes heavy. “Little Park needs a real boyfriend, Baek, not a fling!” Minutes later of Baekhyun trading Chanyeol’s jeans out with sweatpants, the two of you slowly close his door and heave out a weight breath.

“That was exhausting. He does this every year; it’s like my family is purposefully trying to get him to drunk to make me suffer.”

“Sorry,” Baekhyun mutters, hands slipping into the pockets of his jeans. “I should’ve been there to help you.” You wave him off, shaking your head in disagreement. “He’s my brother, it’s my responsibility.” Just when you’re about to walk away, he tugs on the hem of your shirt before you turn with a raised brow.

“You’re not... upset about what he said, are you?”

“About what?”

“About me. Having flings, never really having a serious girlfriend. About you, never bringing anyone home.”

You shrug. “I never wanted to bring anyone home in the first place. Doesn’t really matter to me.” Baekhyun chews on his bottom lip anxiously, fiddling with the fabric between his fingers. “I hope I can be that for you eventually.”

“Be what?”

“The one you want to bring home.”

Naeun is your best friend, biggest supporter, and also the most brutally honest person you’ve ever met. It’s in her DNA to be this way and although sometimes her candidness can hurt, you know she means well. So when you tell her about your Baekhyun escapades, her jaw is dropped down to the floor in awe.

“You’re kidding.”

“I am nothing but forthright.”

She smiles, tilting her head back in skepticism. “... No, you’re definitely playing me. There is no way he said that he likes you. There’s no way.” You pout. “Is it that hard to believe that a guy like him finds me attractive? Jesus, Naeun, hurt my feelings why don’t ya.”

“Girl, I’m just saying. He’s too hot and too much of a fuck boy... so him wanting to risk his relationship with his best friend to go after her sister... unless...” Her thoughts trail off for a moment before she comes back. “... Nah, never mind. There’s just no way. There’s a catch to this, I’m going to find it.”

“There’s absolutely no catch.”

“I’m just saying baby girl, watch out.” She’s leaning back on a wooden chair in your room that you had borrowed from the dining room set, swaying on the two legs dangerously. “Girls get their hearts broken because of him. And it’s because he’s such a nice boy about it that it makes them feel bad. Isn’t that crazy? What power he holds.”

“You’re giving him way too much power just from this conversation we’re having. Naeun, if you believe that he has that much hanging over all of us, then you’re enabling him to do so!”

“So you agree... you think he’s a playboy with a lot of power.”

“Naeun!” You holler, rolling your eyes at your friend. “He’s nothing but a guy that I like. We keep talking about him as if he’s this being that’s better than all of us when in actuality, he’s just a really nice guy.”

Naeun scoffs. “Who is really fucking hot, by the way. Don’t forget that.” She stands up and makes her way toward your closet, slinging the doors wide open. “Which means you should probably update your wardrobe too. You think a guy like Baek wants to date someone in hoodies and sweatpants all the time?” You purse your lips at your friend. “Don’t make me feel insecure about this, he already told me he likes me.”

“Okay, but what about the competition? Aren’t there girls lining up for him?” There’s silence for a moment, indicating that you’re almost lured into her trap before she sings your name. “Come on, wouldn’t you want to try looking cute for him?”

“I try!”

“Did you meet him today?” She asks. “Yes?” You respond questioningly. Why?”

“And you were wearing that?” Naeun gestures your attire. As mentioned before, just like your entire closet, you’re dressed in black hoodie and sweatpants. At least they matched, right? She grabs your hand and pulls you up. “You said you guys were going to meet tonight again, so let’s get you ready for that!”

If meeting Baekhyun required getting ready 3 hours in advance, you don’t know if you can date him anymore.

As planned, Baekhyun is parked at the end of the block waiting for you, shooting a text in your direction to let you know that he’s here. Slipping your phone into your bag, you heave out a heavy sigh of how tight this skirt that Naeun forced you into. “I thought I looked fine earlier,” you grumble to yourself before adjusting your blouse and snatching a jacket from the coat rack.

Attempting to sneak out of your house without gaining Chanyeol’s attention was hard. He couldn’t help being nosey. It was in his nature.

“Whoa, looking smokin’ hot for who?” Chanyeol exclaims with his arms crossed in front of your bedroom door. You groan loudly. “Can you please just leave and get out of my way? I’m trying to go out.”

Chanyeol looks astonished. “And with who? I’ve never seen you dressed like this before.” You push a strand of hair that gets caught in your makeup. “Honestly, I don’t know either. Naeun made me look like this.”

“You’re probably going to scare the guy away before you even get him.” You frown. “Let me figure that out tonight. So if you would excuse me—“ Aggressively shoving your brother aside with your hidden Hulk strength, he slams into the wall and winces as you made a run for it.

You want to cry. You felt ridiculous, and Chanyeol’s comment only made it worse. Walking up to Baekhyun’s car, you see him leaned against the hood of his car, skimming through something on his phone. He looks amazing in dark slacks and jet-black sweater tucked in them. He lifts his head to see you, jaw dropping in shock. Your legs were out for the world to see, shirt low enough for a glimpse of your cleavage and he can only gulp and clear his throat before stuttering on his words. “Whoa—I—“

You respond with a moan. “Do I look ridiculous? Naeun came over earlier and forced me to dress prettier, and Chanyeol stopped me before leaving the house and said I looked crazy. Please tell me which one it is so I can go back and do something about it.”

Baekhyun laughs. He laughs as if the situation you’re in is funny. “I think you’re always pretty. You just look even prettier today.” You chew on your bottom lip anxiously, shoulders dropping in doubt. “Are you sure? We haven’t even started the date yet and I feel like I ruined it.” He only shakes his head with a soft smile, walking over to the passenger door to open it for you.

When he’s sitting in the car beside you, he swears his throat closes up when your skirt hikes up in your seat. Warding off the sinful thoughts of you, he starts the ignition of the car, letting the engine warm up for a bit before driving off. The last time you’d been in this car was when he was teaching you how to drive; weekend after weekend, while just you and Baekhyun in this worn down Lexus, he stole your heart bit by bit. You never thought you’d find yourself in this situation again; somehow you were the one stealing his.

“Where are we going?”

“Dinner. I heard there was this really great Italian place they opened downtown. Maybe we can get dessert after?” He glances over at you to see your reaction, only regretting because you so pretty with the sunset behind you.

“That sounds good.” You grin.

That night, the dinner itself wasn’t the most amazing thing you’ve ever had, but the talks you had with Baekhyun were. There wasn’t a dull moment with him, he had stories to share that made you laugh until you’re almost choking on the pasta and by the time dinner was over, you were just glad that there was still dessert to look forward to.

“This place looks new.” You say, eyes sparkling with the countless of options listed on the menu mounted above. “There’s so many to choose from.” Baekhyun notes that although your eyes seem youthful and the smile plastered on your face supported that, everything about you wasn’t the same anymore. How’d he miss out on this for so many years?

You wave your hand in front of his face. “Baek, you good? Have you decided what you like?” He lets out a nervous chuckle, nodding his head. “Uh, yeah. Grab me the strawberry on a cone, will you?”

He slides his card to pay before you could even stop him, frowning when you hand him his cone as the two of you exit the shop. “I could’ve paid, you know.”

“I don’t really trust anyone who gets mint chocolate chip… so…”

“Oh, so you don’t. What’s wrong with mint?”

“Do you like eating toothpaste or something?” You slap his arm, and he winces, remembering that although you were small in comparison to him, your strength was impeccable. “Oh—shit, I’m sorry, Baek.”

“I forgot how strong you were. Do you lift or something?” His face contorts in pain, but he’s not in that much pain. “No, although, now that you mention it, I should probably get into it since I know I’d be so good.” Baekhyun winces. “How am I ever going to stand next to you? I’ll be living in fear all the time.”

“Speaking of, I heard you finally moved out of your parents place.” Licking your ice cream, Baekhyun has to look away or else these thoughts would creep up again. “I have. Want to come over after this? We can squeeze in a movie, and I borrowed something from Chanyeol the other day, so I can drop it off when I take you home.”

Bent over, reaching for the controller underneath the coffee table, Baekhyun swallows. His gaze drifts off to the ceiling, praying that you wouldn’t notice the boner he’s supporting right now. When did you grow up? He has to shake off the dirty things he’s imagining you doing right now.

“Here.” You slap the controller in the palm of his hand before adjusting your top. “Are you comfortable? Do you wanna borrow some of my clothes?” Lips jutting into a pout, you want to tell Baekhyung, yes, hell the fuck yes I want to wear your clothes and get out of this brutally uncomfortable skirt, but the words don’t leave you mouth and he can only smile. It’s like he reads your mind because he stands from the couch and enters into his room. Seconds later, he has a pair of sweats and a hoodie for you. Your favorite dynamic duo.

You’re barely 1/4th through the movie, Baekhyun’s arm around you with your head cuddled against his chest while wearing his clothes that smelled so good, smelled like him. This amount of comfort was never evident with any of your previous relationships, but something about Baekhyun made everything feel okay. Turning your head to look over at him, he’s breathing soundlessly as if he’s asleep, but his attention is all diverted to the television. His jawline looked tempting, skin smooth and soft, you bring your lips to kiss the bone.

He chuckles at the action, eyes down to meet with yours. “Yes?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“I should be the one asking you that.” He presses a chaste kiss on your lips before giving you one last look of confirmation. Crashing his lips onto yours, you welcomed him inside with your tongues knotting and sliding past one another, you hum against him. It sent a warmth feeling down your center and you wanted know if he felt it too. Pushing the blanket off your frame, you climb over his lap, swinging a leg over before pressing yourself down on him, his hands slowly making his way to your waist, hesitating as if he’s asking for permission. Hands forcing on his in invitation, he complies, pulling you close to his body.

He lets go of your lips, a lewd smack from your kiss separating. He’s panting like he’s just run a marathon, heart racing to the point that he’s afraid you can hear it. There’s a rush in him, excitement pumping through his veins and he’s never felt this before. You felt too much like home to him, and this was just the first date, how was he supposed to survive any more if you had him wrapped around his finger like this?

“I don’t want to go any further if you don’t want to. It’s our first date—Is it too soon?” He says, his voice meek and faint, the total opposite of how he usually is around you. Afraid he’d mess it up, afraid that everything that happened today wouldn’t happen again if he didn’t do it right.

“Please take me. I want you, Baek, I really do. I’ve been waiting for this since I met you when I was sixteen.” You sounded desperate, cheeks flushed in embarrassment of how intoxicated you were from his kisses. “Don’t make it sound like that, I’m sorry I made you wait this long.” He whispers before leaning back into the kiss, palm rubbing your hip soothingly before you begin to grind on him. The sight of you in his clothes brought the blood rushing straight into his pants that were starting to be uncomfortably tight.

Baekhyun made you feel like a princess that night—sprawled on his bed, arms wrapped around his neck while he peppered kisses constantly on your damp forehead, skins slapping as the headboard of the bed bangs against the wall. Soughing sweet nothings into your ears, nibbling on your lobes to help you reach your high, a hand reaching down to toy with your clit before your toes are curling, fingers digging into his shoulders while your climax was approaching. He had you in a trance, fully blissed out, and before you know it, you’re cumming, letting out your final moans and cries. It drag must’ve felt nice, because his hips are stuttering, losing it’s rhythm until he stills, long spurts of his cum splattering you walls.

He falls over, pulling you close and nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck, gifting you a quick kiss on your sweaty skin. “Stay for the night?” You nod.

You end up staying more nights with him.

Your presence meant more to Baekhyun than you ever knew. Those rough days where he’s at the office, he loves coming back to his apartment, seeing you in his dark home with only the kitchen light illuminating on the granite island with your books spread out with your notes and music blasting from your computer. There were some nights where he’d be home late hours and you’re snuggled in blankets on the couch, the only brightness in the room is from the television, shining on your face in multiple colors with you completely engrossed with what’s playing. It was his favorite part of the day, the thing he looked forward to the most.

The night he knew that he couldn’t ever let you go was when he came home just in time because you were taking out a tray of something from the oven, apron wrapped around your frame with a surprised expression on your face. “Oh, you’re back?” You sound shocked, mostly because you told him you wouldn’t be here tonight but yet… there you were.

“Not that I don’t love having you around, but I thought you said you weren’t coming over today?” Baekhyun asks, dropping his jacket on one of the dining room chairs. “And what are you making?”

You scrunch up your nose. “Honestly, sorry baby, I wanted to use your oven. Then I felt bad for using your oven without telling you, so I baked you banana bread as well. Then I lost track of time and I’m supposed to deliver these cupcakes to Naeun for her lacrosse team bake sale tomorrow.” Baekhyun chortles in amusement, wrapping his arms around you from behind before pecking your lips. “All good, baby.”

He doesn’t even care that you came to his house without a warning. He’s glad you’re there—Baekhyun had the expectation that you weren’t going to be there that night, so the drive home was dreadful, but just catching you in the act of using his oven… nothing made him happier. He’s not letting you go.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You hiss, eyes darting at him. Pausing from stuffing your personal belongings into your duffle bag, regret washes over how much stuff you’ve accumulated here. His place had too much of your things and having this fight alone was bringing in a lot of realizations. How could you get comfortable so easily?

Baekhyun sighs, fingers running through those locks that you had always dreamed of having your own in, but at this state, you’re fuming with anger. “You’re only twenty-two and my best friend’s little sister. There’s so much to life you haven’t seen yet... I don’t think you’re mature enough for me.”

“I’m not mature enough for you?” Shaking your head, you continue to fill your bag. “Ridiculous. I’m twenty-two, Baekhyun, not sixteen. Need I remind you that you also wanted this? I’m also not the one talking to other women while you’re with me— with me! You said you liked me. But the entire time, you had someone in the back burner, ready to replace me when it’s time.”

He says your name with another exasperated breath, feeling speechless. He doesn’t get to feel frustrated, you think to yourself, not today, not in this situation. “I do like you. More than you think, actually. But do you ever think of what Chanyeol is going to say or how he’d react if he knew? I’m feeling guilty, extremely guilty. You’re not just his sister, but you’re his little sister, which means a lot more. He’s getting suspicious of me sneaking around with some girl he hasn’t heard about yet.”

You’re fuming. Little sister this, little sister that. Every conversation with Baekhyun always seemed to lead to that topic—how young you were, and how experienced he’d been in comparison. “Who fucking cares? He’s my brother, he doesn’t get a say in my relationships. And who is he to you that he can decide yours?”

“He’s my best friend, one that’s been around for me almost forever. I can’t just go behind his back and date his sister, let alone sleep with her.”

“Then let’s not make it complicated any more. I’m leaving.”

He freezes. Why’s he suddenly so shocked? He was watching you pack your bags seconds ago, yet it’s like reality only struck him in that moment. Baekhyun reaches to grasp onto your wrist and you push back. “Wait, you’re not actually leaving, are you?”

“What do you expect me to do? Stay? After the way you spoke to me? What about when you called me ignorant and inexperienced? Too young for you? Should I list more things why you can’t be with me and for some reason you want me to still stay?”

“I-I didn’t mean it like that,” He says, stuttering in his words. “I still have feelings for you, nonetheless.”

“That doesn’t mean shit, Baekhyun.” You pull from his hold, slinging the bag over your shoulder before storming out his apartment. “I have some pride and dignity. I can’t just stay with someone who looks and speaks of me so condescendingly.” He doesn’t stop following you though, door left open as he chases you down the flight of stairs.

“Drive safe,” He says softly, watching your figure make way to your car that parks outside of the apartment complex, heart clenching at the sight of you walk away. “Please text me when you get home.”

“As if,” You scoff, aggressively opening the door. “Don’t expect to hear from me anymore, Baekhyun.”

He’s like every other guy you’ve ever dated, have ever been with. This guy—the one who you’ve always put on a pedestal and admired— wasn’t just a guy anymore, but rather any other one you’ve ever dated. He’d stolen your heart in your early years but in actuality, Byun Baekhyun was like any other boy. Disappointing and sleazy.

Respect and admiration, the two main characteristics you looked for in a man, and the one that you thought had them, didn’t end up having them. Tears were welling up into your eyes as you’re driving; sleeves too long that they cover your hands on the wheel, and you want nothing more than just to speed past these cars on the highway.

But you knew better than to let your emotions run wild. Yet the tears just don’t stop falling.

Age. Age was just a number. There were so many people that were the same age as you without the equivalent amount of experience as you held. Whether if it were more or less, the main point was evident: age didn’t matter. It’s what Baekhyun felt was a constant need to remind you when things weren’t working out or when it got tough. It had been frustrating. Maybe it was a good thing to have left. After all, what would it have been like if you had to tell your brother?

There’s constant dinging coming from your bag, and once the traffic begins to build up, you take your attention away for a brief moment to check it.

10 Missed Calls. 30 New Messages.

All from Baekhyun.

There’s an urge within you to want to call him back but you know better. If you heard his sweet, soothing voice over the phone, you’d unconsciously turn your car around and drive directly back to his apartment. It’s how it always was.

But from now on, it was different. You can’t put Baekhyun on a pedestal anymore, you can’t put him as this picture perfect guy for you. He wasn’t— he was human, and that was okay for you, more than just okay, but he proved at that very moment that maybe you weren’t right for him.

Another blind date.

You’ve been on countless of blind dates since you officially announced to your family that the guy you’ve been seeing wasn’t... well, you weren’t seeing him anymore. Because of this, your mom thinks that you’re bitter and lonely, fearing that you’ll never find someone. “You’re only twenty-two and can’t even keep a man? We have to start early while we still have time!”

Luckily, Chanyeol tried backing you out of this one but there’s no argument against your mother. So he suggests doing the matching. You pray he’s not trying to get back at you for stealing the last yogurt cup in the fridge back in 2011.

Getting into your ‘lucky’ signature black mini dress was a bit harder than usual— you want to blame it on the relationship weight gain but you admit that your healthy habits have been lacking. After sucking in a deeper breath, the dress finally zips. Smoothing out the crevasses on the skirt of your attire, you give yourself a last check in the mirror before giving yourself a grin and a thumbs up. “OK, I got this.”

The door bell rings; assuming it’s your date, you quickly slide open your closet doors to find your heels until a familiar laugh perks up your ears. It’s none other than Baekhyun.

“You... look like you were standing by the door waiting for someone and I’m pretty sure I made this a surprise visit.” Peering out into the hallway, you can see his figure standing at the door frame, dressed in a hoodie, ripped jeans, and a trench coat... why does he make it so hard to hate him?

Chanyeol shakes his head, standing aside for his friend to enter. “Jongin is supposed to be here sometime soon.”

“Oh, you made plans with him?”

“Nah, setting him up with my sister. I’m free for the rest of the night. You tryna hang?” Baekhyun gives Chanyeol a dazed look of bewilderment. “You’re... setting up your sister with Kim Jongin?” He nods with his lips pursed, confident with his response that his friend seems to question uncertainly. “Yeah. My mom has been on her case lately about having a boyfriend since apparently the guy she was seeing dumped her. She thinks that little Park has some personality issues and it’s going to take some time before she meets someone. I figured I’d give her an easy date, at least Jongin isn’t a dick like the past few guys.”

Baekhyun feels queasy. Were you really moving on that quickly? It was barely a week since he’d last seen you and the visual of you walking away that night haunted his days. “How long ago since it’s been since she and the guy broke up? Couldn’t have been that long, right? Why are you guys already setting her up on dates so soon?”

Chanyeol shrugs his shoulders. “Not sure. Why’s it matter anyway? Jongin is a nice guy anyway and could use some stability in his life.”

“That guy rides a motorcycle and races almost every weekend. You think he’s good for your sister?” His tone spilled in flabbergast. “You don’t think he’s going to influence her?”

“She’s an adult, she can handle herself. I highly doubt he would be influencing her though, pretty sure she would more than likely be influencing him.” Baekhyun can agree to that— after all, he’d fallen victim to that. But he didn’t like the idea of you being with someone else and he definitely wasn’t a fan of seeing you look pretty for a guy like Jongin. “Well, what if I took her out on a date?” He suggests.

Chanyeol can only let out a laugh, leading Baekhyun into the living room. “Yeah right, don’t kid around, Baek. My mom is strict about her looking for suitors; we’re looking for serious inquiries only.”

The doorbell finally rings. “Oh! I think it’s for me— I’ll get it!” Baekhyun’s head pivots to see you rushing out of your room, slipping into your heels the last second with a black leather jacket folded over your arm. He feels the breath stolen from his lungs.

“Oh. Hey Baekhyun,” You say, a weak smile upon your lips. “I got the door.”

Standing at the door with a loose dress shirt tucked in his slacks, with a couple buttons undone; Jongin’s sun-kissed tan skin is exposed from underneath, hair slicked back in gel with a bright grin on his face. “Hey, pretty.” Voice deep and smooth, goosebumps appearing on your arms. “Hi.”

“Jongin.” He startles you from behind, bumping you aside before giving his friend a handshake. “Taking little Park out? Per Chanyeol’s request?” Jongin only nods, and he doesn’t take his eyes off of you. “Yes, but... I did it willingly. After all, look how beautiful she looks.” Baekhyun snaps his fingers to regain his attention. “Where are you taking her?”

“Surprise.” He says nonchalantly, noting Baekhyun’s sudden possessiveness. “Where’s Yeol? Told him I’d say my goodbyes before I take her out tonight.” Saved by the presence of Chanyeol, you finally let go of the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Despite the height difference, Baekhyun was attempting to size up Jongin, although lacking a bit from the towering younger male. “Whoa, what’s going on here?”

“Nothing,” They both say in unison, but Chanyeol only chuckles at the sight of his two friends. “Well, thanks for doing this for me Jongin, I’m sure you made both mine and my sister’s night a little easier.”

“Well, drive safe when you go.” Baekhyun says through his gritted teeth. Words that were once so affectionate and caring now had a different meaning behind them.

Standing by the door with his arms crossed on his chest, Baekhyun scowls while Chanyeol leans against the frame. Jongin hands over to you the spare helmet on the backseat of his motorcycle (which by the way... hot) before hopping on. Settling comfortably behind him, he lifts up his arms and although Baekhyun can’t hear what Jongin’s saying, he already knows the words. Wrap your arms around me so you don’t fall off. Right on cue because your arms snake around his frame, gripping on as tight as Baekhyun’s jaw clenches.

The restaurant he takes you to is way out of your comfort zone.

There was a comment here and there from Chanyeol that Jongin was from old money, however there wasn’t much brought up after that. Where he brings you on your first date is evident of this; it’s lavishly decorated, dark lighting with a candle that illuminates just the table, freshly picked flowers from their own garden, linen tablecloths and napkins, and to top it off, a classical band plays in the corner.

“Wow... after telling me to hop onto the back of your motorcycle, I really didn’t expect you to take me here.” He lets out a low snicker, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “A beautiful woman like you deserves a luxurious date as this.”

Jongin is a gentleman. He pulls out your chair for you, opens the car door for you, and when there’s goosebumps on your arm and you shiver at the cool air blowing down at you, he’s observant enough without you saying and asks the waiter to turn off the air.

“Baekhyun Hyung seems like have a thing for you, doesn’t he?”Jongin asks, picking up his knife to saw his steak. “I saw how... protective he was of you.”

“Eh, just an instinct. He and my brother are close, so I’m sure it rubbed off.” You lie. It’s easier to lie.

Jongin isn’t convinced. “No, I’m pretty sure he was giving me daggers with his eyes. Like... boyfriend daggers. As if I was stealing his girl or something.”

“I’m not really anyone’s to claim,” You say, fork pushing your pasta around. This conversation wasn’t fun and you weren’t in the mood to be in it. After all, you were at this date because Baekhyun didn’t want to be yours in the first place. “Hence why we’re on this date, right? There’s no Baekhyun.”

But for the rest of the night, Jongin doesn’t let it go. He keeps bringing it up, as if Baekhyun is now his competitor and they’re both fighting for a mate.

You call it a night. Saying that you might’ve eaten something bad during lunch and it wasn’t sitting well in your stomach. So much for an easy date.

“You look... really stressed out dude. Maybe we should go out for drinks tonight or something.” Chanyeol suggests, stirring the sugar in his iced coffee with the plastic straw. “What’s up with you?”

He can’t get you out of his mind. He can’t go to bars, clubs, restaurants... pretty much anywhere; he can’t go anywhere because everything reminds him of you. Baekhyun only agrees to meet up with Chanyeol because he doesn’t want to seem any more suspicious, but it seems that showing up didn’t do much of a difference either.

“Can I ask you something? And you not be mad about it?” Baekhyun blurts, leaning forward in his seat with his arms against the table.

“Uh, sure.” Chanyeol responds, brows furrowed in confusion. “I guess I can’t really control my anger if you’re asking something ridiculous, but shoot.”

“No, I really need you to not be upset about it.”

“... Uh, okay, then I guess continue.”

Baekhyun takes in a deep breath and exhales, so deep that it takes him a while to recover in order to continue the conversation. “I... Would be upset if I told you that I might have feelings for your sister?”

Chanyeol raises a brow. “... Do you really? You’re not joking, right? Because that’s some sick joke—”

“No? At least, I don’t think I am.” Baekhyun says quickly, shaking his head. “Just... can you stop setting her up with these other guys?” His best friend takes a sip of his drink, cringing at the taste before opening the lid to pour more sugar into it. “Okay, I won’t anymore. So what are you going to do now?”

“You— you’re not mad about it?”

Taking a sip of the coffee, he nods in content before closing the lid. “Well, yeah, why would I be mad?” He pauses for a moment, eyes gazing up at Baekhyun’s tired ones. “Wait... you’re not telling me that she’s the reason you’ve been so stressed out, are you? Dude, I sent her out with Jongin! What’d you do?”

“I... I don’t know.” He responds, still appalled by Chanyeol’s calmness surrounding the situation. “But we dated for a bit and I ruined it by telling her that you might not be as supportive about this.”

“Dude...” He clicks his tongue in disbelief. “Why didn’t you just tell me before? Did you already fuck up before it even really started?”

“What else am I supposed to do? What if you said no? Was I to pick between the girl I’m in love with and my best friend?”

“Baek, stop being difficult. She’s old enough to decide things herself. What do you think this is, the Medieval times? Women are capable of making their own decisions— even if she’s my baby sister and something in my stomach really wants to punch you for even laying your eyes on her, but I can’t do that.” Then, there’s a pause. “Did you say you love her?”

“Uh...” He sighs, standing up in his seat and gestures Baekhyun up as well. “Come on, let’s go fix this mess.”

Baekhyun declines, slouching. “I’ve already fucked it up to the point of no return. She blocked my number, doesn’t respond to texts— I couldn’t even come to your house this past week because I knew she would ignore me. I look like a crazed boyfriend with how much I’m trying here.”

“You are a crazed boyfriend, you literally fucked up your chances with her.”

“Which is why I think I should completely give up.”

Rubbing his face in his hands, Chanyeol frustratedly groans. “Honestly, if you’re going to give up so easily, maybe you don’t deserve her.” Baekhyun swallows, anxiously shaking his leg under the table. “What am I supposed to do? Stand outside her house until she has to come out?”

“Well, for one thing, you got her brother’s permission and acceptance of the two of you being together. Isn’t that something? Wasn’t that one of the reasons that stemmed from the conversation?”

Baekhyun grunts, hands furiously ruffling his hair. “It wasn’t only that. I called her immature, Yeol. I told her that she wasn’t mature enough for me.” His best friend stays silent for a moment, so quiet that you could almost hear him blink. “Do you really believe that?”

“Of course not. She’s the most mature twenty two year old I’ve ever met. She has most of her life together than I do, not including the fact that she has more self-assurance than I ever did at that age. But she doesn’t make me feel bad about it either; she wants me to bask in my childish behavior and be myself—“

“—stop talking and save it for her, will you?”

His palms are incredibly sweaty. Wiping the excess moisture on the fabric of his jeans, he tightens his jaw but follows with a deep inhale and exhale afterwards. “Why are you so nervous? I thought you said you liked her and were comfortable with her?” Chanyeol is shuffling through his pockets and filing through the many keys he has for the front door of your parents’ place before a familiar voice is heard behind the wooden material.

“I think it’s Yeol, Dad! I got it—“ The door swings open and the sight of you clenches Baekhyun’s chest.

You’re so pretty; so fucking goddamn pretty. Hair tied back in a loose bun, oversized grey hoodie and black shorts yet the simplest outfit has Baekhyun almost gasping for air. It makes the acidity in his stomach grumble— or his intestines in a knot; he’s not quite sure. One thing he was certain of was that knowing that he was the cause of your tired and sad eyes made his heart drop.

“Oh, hey Baekhyun.” That stung. He missed hearing you call him your baby. “You guys coming in?”

“I’m coming in. But you? Stay out here and talk to Baekhyun.” A blank expression on your face, you blink profusely. “Is everything okay?”

“Apparently not. Seemed like my friend is rather smitten with you. What’d you do? Drug his drink?”

“With what? You think I have to drug your friends to think I’m somewhat pretty?”

“No, I think you have to drug their drinks to get them to fall in love with you. He’s crazy now; I don’t think I want to be around him anymore. You keep him.” His words don’t have an underlying tone that you can pick out but he ends it off with a soft smile before patting your shoulder and walking into the house.

It’s just you and Baekhyun.

“Why’s he talking like that?” You say, ultimately shattering the glass of silence. “He’s acting like I have all his friends by a leash.”

“You have me by a leash.” It’s a quiet again. A heavy empty space of stillness settled over the two of you, thicker than the awkwardness and tension that had never been there before.

“Why are you—“

“You’re home early.” Baekhyun states the obvious, gathering enough courage to speak up. “Bad date?” Sucking in your cheeks, you’re tempted to tell him that it’s none of his business, yet you play along to his game anyway. “No... he was great. He just had a lot to offer when it came to money and I knew I couldn’t reciprocate nor live that life.” He nods as if this information was helpful, knowing that regardless of the turnout of the date, he would still be having this conversation.

“I told Yeol.” Your eyes widen; this is the most of a reaction he has gotten from you in a while and he admits that he misses it. “You what? Are you crazy? It was supposed to be meticulously planned—”

“He said he was okay with it.” Blinking blankly, you’re still hesitant about what to say next. “That... that doesn’t change where we left off.” Distressingly raking his hair with his fingers, he nods. “I know it doesn’t make up for any of the things I said but I still want another shot. I said it in the moment of panic— I had to pick between you and Chanyeol, and I didn’t know what to do.”

“So... what are you trying to say?”

“That what I said the other day, I didn’t mean it. I guess, calling you little Park like I’ve always done made it easy, knowing that I didn’t have to choose between my best friend and the girl I’ve been head over heels for. It gave me enough time to figure out what I wanted to do and... I just ended up ruining it for myself.”

You’re quiet the entire time, hands twiddling with the fabric of your hoodie. Unsure how to feel and uncertain of what to say, you just swallow any words that want to leave your mouth, not wanting to be too easy and let him back into your arms so easily. “Please, say something, say anything. I’m in love with you and honestly, I never thought I’d be in this position. All those girls I’ve dated—none of them made me feel in comparison to you.” His voice is wavering; you assume it’s from him being nervous.

“Baek, I don’t want to get hurt again.” You say softly, almost in a whisper. “You made me feel so stupid that day. I put you on this pedestal, I thought so highly of you—“

“Don’t do that,” He interrupts, stepping closer to you. “Don’t think so highly of me because I already broke your heart once. I made you wait so long and never realized your feelings for me. You’re the one that I should be putting on a pedestal.” Tears begin to well in your eyes again—Baekhyun’s the reason again, but it’s the opposite from before.

“I picked my nose before opening the door and wiped it on the doorknob before coming out because I knew Chanyeol was going to touch it. Are you sure about that?” He laughs, arms wrapping around your frame before pulling you against his chest. “Exactly what I looked for in a girlfriend. Someone who would torture my best friend.”

“I think I’m ready to move out.”

“Oh wow,” You say, slightly impressed. “You’re like what, 29? You probably should have your own place by now. Instead, you’ve been living at your parents’ house, trying to steal your sister’s last can of coke from the fridge. And you didn’t even bother to replace it!” Baekhyun chuckles at the siblings arguing, rubbing your back soothingly.

“Nobody asked you to drink so much of it. It’s bad for your heath.”

“You’re just saying that because you can’t handle my hits. You want me to be weaker.”

“Rightfully so.” He attacks back, sticking his tongue at you. “Man, ever since Baek started dating you, he won’t even stand by me anymore. I felt like I had more confidence knowing that he might back me up.” His friend shakes his head. “I never did though, I let you guys just fight.” Chanyeol groans. “Whatever. Anyway, I think I should look for a roommate temporarily before completely moving out on my own.”

Baekhyun sits up on the couch. “You could always come live with me, you know.” Your older brother scoffs, shaking his head. “Nah, not after you started dating my sister. I’m only half okay with this, I’m not sure how I’d feel hearing your bedpost banging on the wall.”

“What— why would you even bring that up!”

Chanyeol sighs disappointingly, leaning back. “Man, I miss when Baek used to date other girls. He’d talk about how wild some of them were, how his flings were… he lived the life I wanted to live—ouch! Did you just throw the controller at me?” He winces, rubbing his head. “What was that for?”

“Are you seriously talking about his past sexual encounters in front of me, you asshole?”

“Okay but Baek—“ Baekhyun raises his hands in defeat. “I don’t know if I’m cool with you bringing this up with my current girlfriend, dude.”

“This is a losing battle, isn’t it?”

#baekhyun #baekhyun fanfic #reader x baekhyun #baekhyun x reader #exo #exo fanfic #exo fics #baekhyun & reader #baekhyun&reader #exo smut #baekhyun smut #gyukultfics

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the-record · 4 years ago

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I’m here

Prompts 11 and 17: Tucking their hands beneath the other person’s shirt, just to watch them break the kiss and gasp in surprise at the sensation of cold/warm hands on their skin/ Morning kisses that are exchanged before either person opens their eyes, kissing blindly until their lips meet in a blissful encounter.

!!!SEASON 6 AND 7 SPOILERS!!!

A/N: Someone asked for 11 or 17 and yk what the hell, why not both. Anyways, kinda cried writing this. Emily makes me soft.

TW: Mentions of death, funeral

A little angsty, but fluff too bc yes.

“She never made it off the table.” Your ears rang at the words. You felt someone come to your side as you fell to your knees. You faintly heard someone call your name. You felt like someone had ripped your heart out of your chest. A deafening scream filled the waiting room you had been in.

“Y/N.” You looked up at Aaron through your tears. Your vision blurry.

“She’s gone, Aaron. She’s gone and we didn’t get to get married. We didn’t get to have kids. We were house shopping. We-we bought my dress.” You broke into sobs as you fell onto him. He caught you as your crying filled the room.

He didn’t know what to say. I mean, what could you say to someone whose fiance was murdered. So he didn’t say anything. He just held you as you cried. He lost the love of his life, he knew how you felt. He knows the hopelessness and despair. He guided you to a seat so he could talk with JJ. Rossi’s arms came around you as you cried. You cried and cried until no more tears came.

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You sat on the couch waiting for her to come home from the case. She had been gone a week and you desperately missed her. Emily had texted you the moment they had gotten on the jet. There was a click of the door and you jumped off the couch to greet her. Almost tripping over Sergio, you ran to greet your girlfriend. She dropped her bag as you jumped into her arms.

“Hey, sweet girl.” You let out a sigh.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too. But I’m home now.” You nodded but didn’t let go. Emily wrapped her arms around you even tighter. “I’m here.” A tear rolled down your cheek. “I’m here.” You pulled back and she swiped the tear off your face. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. I’m here now love.” You nodded.

“Garcia snitched on you.” She rolled her eyes and smiled. “Don’t you dare go anywhere without back up again. Got it?” She nodded and kissed you deeply. Your arms wrapped around her neck while hers trailed down your back and onto your hips. She moved her hand up your shirt and on your back making you gasp and pull away. “Jesus Emily!” She chuckled and laughed.

“What?”

“Your hands are like an ice block!” She smiled and kissed you again.

“I love you.” You were taken back. “I know we’ve only been together a couple months but I love you Y/N. I love you so much and I don’t wanna lose you. I’m sorry if I spru-” You cut her off with a kiss, not caring about her cold hands this time.

“I love you too Emily. So much.”

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For such a sad day, the weather was perfect. You put on the black dress JJ had purchased you and let her do your hair and makeup. Since your fiancee’s death, you had been in a slump. You had taken time off to grieve and spend your days lounging and crying. JJ had been your rock and listened to you whenever you needed it.

“All done.” She finished and pulled away, placing a kiss on top of your head. The concealer she had applied had done very poorly to cover up the bags under your eyes. You imagined Emily smiling at you in the mirror from behind.

The car ride was silent. Neither of you could speak.

You helped the team carry her coffin and set it down in front of her grave. When you saw it, tears pooled in your eyes.

Emily Prentiss Oct. 12, 1970 - March 7, 2011

Fidelity Bravery Integrity

A single tear fell down your face leaving a shiny trail. The team had asked if you wanted to speak at her funeral, but you hadn’t said a word since the hospital. You took a white rose and placed it on her coffin speaking 3 words.

“I love you.”

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You woke up with your head on Emily’s chest. She had proposed last night and you were both ecstatic. You closed your barely open eyes as she stirred. You smiled and turned your face up to her, pulling her into a blind kiss.

“Good morning love.” She murmured against your lips. You whispered a ‘morning’ before tackling her lips again. When you both pulled back, you opened your eyes for the first time and stared at her in awe.

“Good morning fiancee.”

“Good morning. Breakfast?” You shook your head.

“Not yet.” She nodded and kissed your temple.

“I love you.” You smiled and blinked slowly trying to figure out if she was real.

“I love you too Em.”

“God, I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

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“7 months ago I made a decision that affected this team.” You stared at your girlfriend's former boss as he spoke. “As you all know, Emily had lost a lot of blood after her fight with Doyle. The doctors were able to stabilize her. She was airlifted from Boston to Bethesda under a covert exfiltration.” Your eyes widened as you realized what Aaron what saying. “Her identity was strictly need-to-know. She stayed there until she was well enough to travel. She was reassigned to Paris where she was given several identities, none of which we had access to for her security.”

Penelope was the first to speak. “She’s alive?”

“But we buried her,” Spencer added.

“As I said, I take full responsibility for the decision. If anyone has any issues they should be directed toward me.”

“Any issues?” Derek spoke, his voice laced with annoyance and anger. “Yeah, I got issues.” The team looked to behind you at the door. You turned and saw her standing with a brown bag on her shoulder and a solemn look on her face.

“Oh my god.”

“Emily?” Your voice was hoarse and broken from barely speaking for over 7 months. A smile graced your face for the first time since she died. “Oh my god.” You pulled her into a tight hug as you buried your face in her neck. “Oh god. I missed you.” She kissed your head.

“I missed you too love. I missed you too.” You let go to make sure you weren’t imagining this.

“God. I hate you so much.” You kissed her passionately before hugging her again.

“I’m here. I’m here. And I’m never leaving again.”

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x y/n #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds fluff

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songofsaraneth · 4 years ago

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Ok now that I have time/space to breathe again, I wanted to do a writeup on the unusual reaction I had to the second Covid vaccine dose. I debated posting this, because I don't want to go against the "I was vaccinated and it's fine!" encouragement train. And I 1000% encourage EVERYONE to get vaccinated if possible. But I have not seen much documentation of the averse symptom I got, except in some case studies I specifically looked up so details below. Big TMI/gross warning however.

Mostly I'm posting this because I had to do SO much self-advocating/arguing with the Dr at my urgent care clinic, and if you're not as read up on weird medical issues as I am, you might not be comfortable doing that. But IANAD, just describing my experience and what I read, which ended up being very long because it was awful and I have a lot to complain about I guess, sorry.

Basically: for me the vaccine triggered an inflammation response, which in itself is normal. The usual muscle aches/joint pain/slight fever. It also triggered an outbreak of ulcers in my soft tissues. Basically, a bunch of canker sores in my mouth/throat. I am already prone to getting these when I get sick or stressed out, so no biggie, annoying and painful but I could handle them. Canker sores are distinct from cold sores in that they form inside the mouth as crater spots, usually around the size of a pencil eraser (though can be bigger or smaller), and will develop a white film across the crater as they develop and start to heal.

An unfortunate fact I have learned: the mouth is not the only exposed “soft tissue” of the body. this group also includes genitals.

So 2 days after the vaccine I noticed a "burning sensation"/rawness downstairs, which turned into a sharp pain, especially when going to the bathroom. I obviously knew this was abnormal and because of what was happening in my mouth, had a pretty firm idea of what was happening, but was ready to brace myself through the healing process. However by day 5 I had 8 red, crater-like sores on the tissue of my vulva. Essentially they are open wounds, and urine is an acid, so you can imagine the hell that using the bathroom had become. Even just sitting hurt.

As someone healthcare-averse, even I knew this was untenable, and went to Urgent Care for the first time in my adult life. I told the NP what was going on, how they matched the canker sores (NOT cold sores) in my mouth in onset/form--and she immediately, without even looking, diagnosed me with herpes.

Lots of people have herpes or other STIs, and that's fine. I know I do not have any, and wanted to pursue treatment for what I was sure they were--Non-sexually acquired genital ulceration (NSGU). I had even found three case studies of COVID patients who had developed them. I had spent several harrowing hours on google images making sure that the sores I had did not match any STI I may have magically acquired during a year of social distancing. I even brought up multiple case studies, including a woman who had them as a Covid reaction in a neighboring state. Didn’t matter. She looked at them and went “Yikes! Herpes!” and prescribed me:

1) an antiviral, which I said I did not think would do anything because the trigger for this was a vaccine not an illness. She said it was probably a herpes flare up already in my system. I reiterated that I have had similar sores in my mouth since childhood and that all my past doctors and dentists agreed it was not viral but something related to an immune response. She said the antivirals should clear them up in a few days.

2) a topical 5% lidocaine ointment, aka an oral grade numbing gel, which was essentially what I was after anyway.

I would have preferred a steroid course to the antiviral, but agreed to start taking them until she got the results of the bloodwork I needed to come in the next day for. I asked how many days after taking them I would expect to see a difference/if she would reevaluate treatment if they didn’t have an effect in a certain amount of time, and she said if they hadn’t cleared up by Monday then she’d look into other causes (spoiler, they did nothing in that 4 day span). to her credit, when she saw me pick up my bike helmet (because my car had been at the mechanic for a month by then), she was properly horrified that i was having to bike everywhere with this situation and printed off some coupons/called all the prescriptions into the grocery store pharmacy next door instead of the CVS my insurance likes a mile away.

So eventually I got home and took my pill & went to put on the ointment so I could use the bathroom for the first time in 8 hours. I’ll spare you the details but suffice to say I had an extremely, overwhelmingly painful 10 minutes of application. Like absolutely awful burning feeling. However once that faded, I was indeed actually numb, and so I figured it was worth it. Got my bloodwork done on Friday (biking there & home again). On Saturday, I thought that you know, maybe a prescription anesthetic shouldn’t be doing that or at least have some sort of warning? And read the details on the jar.

Good things about lidocaine: it is a powerful numbing agent and lasts pretty well for an hour or two.

Bad things about lidocaine: you cannot get oral grade lidocaine without added mint flavoring.

I happen to be EXTREMELY sensitive to mint. Like I still can’t handle breath mints or mouthwash, and used bubblegum flavored toothpaste until I was 14 and found a brand with half as much mint flavoring as is typical. Even if you’re not, mint has no business being anywhere near genital tissue. Even on an average person that could cause awful burning. to make a long saga shorter I had a very frustrating back-and-forth with urgent care involving many rerouted phone trees, visit in person, unhelpful receptionists, and attempts to find over-the-counter alternatives. All were fruitless so I just suffered all weekend until the urgent care Nurse Practitioner called me back on Monday and was suitably apologetic/outraged about the mint thing, and looked up every OTC product that might work as a substitute, since she couldn’t find any prescription level without mint. On Tuesday she called back again having found this:

It’s 4%, so just below prescription strength, while not oral grade, it’s actually fine for soft tissues as long as not fully ingested/internally applied. And most importantly, ABSOLUTELY NO ADDED FLAVORINGS. there is also a spray version that comes in a bottle, which under no circumstances should you try because it uses alcohol as a propellant and I had a very bad 5 minutes after testing that one. But the cream one is fine and brings blessed numbness in around 5 minutes with only minimal contact pain--they are still open wounds after all.

I use this for the next 7 days. By this point the sores have gotten worse and larger, and then started to heal and shrink again. Mouth canker sores go through a similar ~2 week process, so this is about what I expected.

Finally the results of my bloodwork came back, and I was negative for all STIs. The NP was dumbfounded and apologized, and agreed to look up more information/treatment options for cases like this in the future. I’m not surprised her reaction was to assume herpes as it IS very common, but I’m sure other women experience NSGU’s and receive improper treatment. If you look them up, they’re even mentioned as being predominantly a problem for “young or prepubescent women” which, reading between the lines--it’s not that these become less likely if you’re older or sexually active. Doctors just make assumptions and don’t always look past the easy answers.

So if you or someone you know ends up with these--from the Covid vaccine or as a complication of upper respiratory infections in general (as they ARE an immune response and can just Happen to you)--here is what works as treatment. If you can see a doctor you trust, still do that. But if they don’t listen or if for some reason you can’t seek treatment, here is the course of action I recommend:

Pick up that over-the-counter Pain Relief+Lidocaine NON MINTY numbing cream ASAP. Sores go from “annoying” to “excruciating” in only 3 days, so it’s best to get in person or with rush shipping. Sit in front of a mirror and gently apply with a q-tip, and wait 5 minutes for the medicine to take effect.

Pat gently dry with toilet paper, don’t make wiping motions. If you don’t feel clean enough, pat more with a wet washcloth and rinse it out, or hope in the shoer for 5 min just to rinse.

There may be pus or reside from the ointment that doesn’t go away with just rinsing. Every 2 days I made a half-strength bath of epsom salts, NUMBED FULLY, and then took a 10 minute bath to fully cleanse the area. the salt will sting terribly if you wait any longer, so I recommend standing and rinsing after this time.

The vulva is more exposed to air than the mouth. this may cause the sores to crack/bleed as they dry out. to avoid this, after using the restroom and cleaning yourself, you can apply a thick coating of Aquaphor on top of the sores. It will need to be rinsed off before you apply more numbing cream however, so if that is too many steps I recommend just using the Aquaphor overnight.

You may think its ok to get up in the middle of the night to pee without the numbing cream bc you have to go really bad and just once will be fine but it is NOT you will REGRET IT.

Unfortunately if you have sores on both sides you may develop what is known as “kissing sores”, aka sores directly opposite each other that touch when the area is not spread open. this means that after an extended period of time (overnight), the sores will try to heal into each other and opening the area back up painfully rips the tissue apart. INStEAD of ripping them apart, take a washclosh, run it under warm water, and do a hot/warm compress on the area. this will loosen the sores back up and separate them painlessly.

This is not exclusive to people with a vulva, they can also happen on scrotal/anal tissue. However it does seem to much more frequently affect people with typical XX sex organs.

If you develop these, PLEASE fill out an averse reaction form or your country’s equivalent. Also, I’m so sorry and if you need emotional support or have questions please feel free to get in touch.

Most likely, these will not happen to you--the vast majority of vaccinated people have not had this as a side effect. But it IS popping up more and more, and it is good to know about it in advance so you can be prepared to deal with and treat it without as much anxiety and all the hoops I had to jump through to get good care. Overall I’m still glad to be vaccinated, but if I had known this was a side effect, as someone already prone to canker sores I would have waited to vaccinate until my car was fixed a week later a the very least :|

#covid #covid vaccine #averse vaccine reaction #nsgu #ive got my finger on the block button for whatever pornbots this post activates do not try me #anyway #gross warning sorry :( if u dont want to know about my tmi personal health dont read this one #ramblings #wharglbargle #i dont wish these on anyone i cant describe what an awful experience this all was #tried to be more humerous bout it in the post but i cried p much nonstop at urgent care and many of the days after #long post #plagueblogging #still better than getting covid and dying tho so

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alias-b · 4 years ago

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Eros & Psyche: SOMY drabble

Billy Hargrove x Evie Fenny: Whump with a Happy Ending Drabble

~Evie contemplates her past relationship after getting together with Billy. ((No real fic spoilers, it’s no secret that Billy & Evie are soulmates & Endgame. Just some extra words for them to touch.)) TW: Talk of past grooming/Abusive student& teach relationship.

Whew, I wrote something, guys. Lol named is sorta after an existing chp bc I'm shameless. xoxo askbox open. Goodnight! :)))

He’s perfect.

Heaven carved her a prince from all her favorite fairy tales. Dash of charming. Sprinkle of classical good looks. A darling smile. Enough to melt any girl. Evangeline had no chance.

Fredrick always included Evie in his life. Well, the part of it no one else was involved in. That counted. She told herself it did.

Hawkins couldn’t know how much he loved her. She was sure that truly ached him.

She was pretty sure.

Fredrick included Evie in what was under his mask. She told herself that was what mattered most of all. His true self and it was bared. All hers and hers alone.

She told herself.

Evie was telling herself lots of things these days. Fredrick called her a classic over-thinker. She didn’t need to think, she had him. He’d guide her along. Being wise and experienced of course. All she needed to do was let go and trust him.

But, he was perfect.

Fredrick took her to parties with other thirty year olds. Always held her hand. Said the right thing. Brought her under one arm. Introduced her as if he was thrilled and proud she was with him. Showed her off like a new designer watch. Fredrick liked to buy Evie designer things too in lace.

Things that made for a better pose in cotton sheets. Pictures she claimed she was too shy to let him take.

He’d press a tight smile. Telling her it was enough to have her trapped in his thoughts.

The, he’d unzip his pants. The sound prickled under her skin.

“This is Evangeline,” he boasted at parties, “my girl.”

Men and women extended their hands. Fussed over her. She just looked so youthful. She must have secrets.

“For now,” Fredrick said in the car once, “just tell anyone who asks that you’re nineteen.” He smiled and caressed her cheek. Fredrick always said the right thing. “You’re too beautiful. I love you so much.”

Slowly, he unzipped his pants.

All Evie wanted to do was please him. See that smile. See the lights behind it because he was hers and she was a moth drawn to them. Fredrick liked most that she was his too. He came to her upon a deathly white horse with a silken, red cape upon his back. Bought her lace and flowers.

Fed her only a certain amount and took plates away before she was finished.

“There’s this silk nightie I want to buy you, but it’s just a smidge too small. Couple pounds should do it. Not that I think you need to lose it.” He cared so much. Evie welled and drank her cool water down. Swallowed the ice cubes when he went to the kitchen.

They drank quite a bit. He liked her swaying and loose. Not alert. Not overthinking too much. Cause he cared. More than anything.

Evie always said no to coke lines. Yes to shots. Yes to the occasional pill that lit shit up inside her. Let her see the night sky in living color.

Fredrick kept close. He always did. Especially if other men approached her. His arm pulled her back into his orbit. One sharp snap. Another prickle that made her skin pulse.

Europa trapped circling Jupiter and its great red storms. Clinging desperately maybe cause she’s scared and she doesn’t know it. She doesn’t have anywhere to go and no planet will love her or hold her like her Jupiter.

Fredrick could storm too. Could get snappy. Grip her too hard. Leave marks she had to hide from her mother and classmates. It’s all passion. That’s what he said. He loved fierce and unyielding. Just like a prince would, they’re supposed to love hard.

Evie’s terrified to disappoint him. Terrified to leave the narrative because who would she be without it? She figured that was normal, growing up with the same dynamic in her household. Children wetting the bed cause their parents build these anxieties into them. Phantoms that never leave.

“Letting everyone down would be my greatest unhappiness.” She often repeated that to the mirror. Repeated it when Fredrick was slamming things around. Pretending he’s fine until she’s crawling to unzip his pants and then all is forgiven.

Evie loved being forgiven. Gentle pats and warm embraces into the night. Fingers to swipe her loose tears. Fredrick gave her everything she needed.

Even if he was the one telling her she needed it.

Prince Charming knew to force his kisses and wake the princess. Now she owed a debt. He knew she needed saving from her tower or dragon. She was too helpless to decide her own path. He knew that she had to love him in return to break the curse. She doesn’t get a choice, it’s destiny.

Evie believed in destiny when she met Fredrick. He certainly murmured it into her ear enough. Hushed tones that made her feel cradled. Made her feel found. Made her float.

But, she can’t tell people, “This is Fredrick, my prince.”

Once he screamed at her for even signing a little heart above the “i” in her name during class. All because he cares. Because he’s the prince who knew better. Because no one would ever understand them.

Maybe that was why she loathed Billy upon meeting him that windy autumn day.

Billy Hargrove was the exact opposite. He never pretended to know better. Not as far as Evie’s soul was concerned. Evie didn’t grovel. Didn’t beg his forgiveness for the slightest misstep or incorrect thought. They nipped at each other, but it was an equal exchange.

Billy’s not a prince. He didn’t try to be either.

He didn’t shake her hand when they met. Not until Neil made him. He doesn’t always hold doors. Doesn’t constantly have to have Evie under his arm. Under his eye.

Especially doesn’t start slamming things when she laughs at Tommy’s stupid jokes or shares her drinks with Steve. He didn’t tell her she couldn’t hang out with Heather or Carol without him. Didn’t steer her from her mother or friends. He also didn’t pry for secrets out of mistrust.

He doesn’t care what she does as long as she isn’t getting herself into deep shit. Without him. His words. He’s not perfect and he doesn’t try to be.

Billy drove like shit. He smoked too much. He got into fights. He could be a total sourpuss grump, but he doesn’t grab Evie to leave bruises over it.

He fucked hard though, he always made sure Evie got off. Never unzips unprompted. Girls hit on him and he says that he’s seeing someone. Easy enough. Sometimes gesturing to Evie if she’s in the room. No need to bother her with pointless shit.

They were always aware of each other even if they didn’t interact. Something magical there neither could place.

Billy knew things Fredrick didn’t care to remember about Evie as well. How she’s a talented roller skater. What she liked on her cheeseburger. Her favorite movie snacks. Her order when they grab Chinese. The articles of clothing that always comforted her on bad days. How to gauge her mood by the song she’d hum or the book in her hand.

How she tapped the rhythm of songs she wrote into flesh and hard surfaces. How she wanted to turn the radio up when her favorite song was on, but politely doesn’t always. Billy does it for her.

He doesn’t comment when she eats and doesn’t care what she wears out or to bed.

He’s often trying to piece together the bits of songs he hears her humming and creating. She’ll share them with him one day, he won’t make her.

Billy’s not a prince. He’s probably beaten up a few in his day. But, he remembers. He pays attention. He lets Evie exist as her own soul and take up her own needed space.

They’re two equal stars twinkling pleasantly in the same shared constellation.

There’s plenty he didn’t tell her. About himself. About his life. Things he wanted to share, but he couldn’t. Not yet. Maybe one day. She needed to trust him enough in that light. And she did.

Before getting together, Evie thought of Billy too often when she was with Fredrick. Especially when she was under him. Counting the seconds before he finished with her. She hadn’t been warmed up enough and her prince was hurting her with his passion.

She wondered about asking him to stop. If he would. If he’d ignore her and chase his end. If he’d bruise her wrists again. A lot could be said about Billy, but he’d stop.

He wouldn’t ignore this beautiful star he’s so well attuned to. Billy wouldn’t hurt Evie and call it passion. He’d own his shit.

But, they tell her Billy isn’t the prince and the princess always was supposed to end up with her prince. Billy was a lone, glittering god with his own marble pedestal. Unobtainable. Eyes that watch the mortals below.

Maybe he’ll grace them with his presence and a fresh set of shiny arrows. Messy, little Eros with a laundry list of issues and vices he’ll never outrun. Evie didn’t mind to carry a few vices if he’d watch hers too. She was just a mortal girl with dreams higher than stars could go. Piled with dead weight as Fredrick collapsed into her. Smothering her.

And Evie’s first thought was always the shine of Billy’s eyes blaring into her after Fredrick dropped her at the end of Cherry Land so she could walk home. Defeated and wanting for more. They broke her heart.

Fredrick pushed down. Crushed her until Evie was gasping herself awake in her own bed. Eons later after she left him. After he shattered her already.

“Squirming more than usual.” A voice in the pillows next to her muttered. Billy groaned, turning over like he was annoyed.

Evie knew he wasn’t. She didn’t feel her heart give an unpleasant clench like she’d upset him. One arm slung over her stomach as Billy stretched back out on his front, facing her. A barely there glow from the moon trickled between the curtains showing his lashes fluttering.

“Just a dream.” Evie reached out and traced a line into his shoulder. Let her finger trail up to tap his nose. Made him scrunch and look sorta adorable.

“Well, it’s over.” Billy closed his eyes. Nestled into her heat. “Try rolling for another.”

“I like this better.” She caught his lip twitching up. Billy remained silent for a while there. Almost lulling back to sleep. He shifted up. Revived Evie with a simple, cathartic kiss. Mapping more across her cheek as lazy as can be.

They still felt carefully packaged. Billy had a way with careless affection that was still so striking and beautiful. Flaming arrows through her heart.

They don’t hurt. So few things hurt with Billy. Evie liked to think she returned that.

His arm tightened.

“I’ll roll this time.”

And Evie could let him without sacrificing her own agency. Her own narrative.

Fingers reached up to draw select gold curls aside. She decided princes were small and overrated. Billy had wings and he had light and he had a swelter of carefully exposed nerves that he trusted Evie to pluck. A heart he let her guard. He wouldn’t ask but she’d give that back.

Love cannot exist without soul. Without trust.

Evie pushed up to meet his oncoming kiss. Brought him back down to touch the soft earth with her. Where they felt safe together.

She realized it then as Billy shifted up to see her there. Fredrick never made her feel safe, he just used her to save himself. Sunk his teeth in to suck her dry of vitality so he could have it.

She didn’t ask Billy if he trusted her. Didn’t tell him in this moment that she trusted him. That was destiny. Not the draining of your soul until you’re forced to give it over.

Sometimes it was just knowing the obvious placement of stars. Glittery dust might sprinkle delicately over them.

“Let’s roll later,” Evie nudged her head into his, “always time for dreaming. But, I think I want to be wide awake right now. Hope that’s not too disappointing.” Hands shifted around his shoulders. A fuller smile crossed and Billy matched it. Blue eyes glinting almost iridescent. He hummed in thought. Seemed to agree.

“Evangeline,” he sounded out with some lazy amusement, “you couldn’t disappoint me if you tried, you know that?” Billy settled himself against her. Continued to map his euphoric paths. Stroking her cheek and hair. Sparking. Hushing. “Hope you know that much, Angel.”

“I know, Billy,” she sighed out to the forgiving cloak of night, “I do.”

#whump #Billy x Angel #billy hargrove #Billy hargrove x oc #writing #mine #Angel Fenny

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phoebehalliwell · 4 years ago

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s3: they cast Phoebe's lost and found spell, deal with the demons and Rasputin the dog, and all the socks, and everything goes back to normal - except that suddenly there's always this little green VW driving past their house at all hours, and this dark-haired woman is jogging through their neighborhood every morning, and really, she has to be a demon sent by the Source, who else could she be? (cont. part 2)

Paige, meanwhile, would like to figure out why she's always ending up in front of that old Victorian that's nowhere near her apartment, or work, or really anywhere. She'll start jogging from her apartment, and suddenly be miles away like she magically teleported. Or the car will seemingly drive itself down the street in front of that house. She thinks she might be losing her mind just a little, as the magic from the Lost and Found spell works overtime to bring her to her sisters

ooh i like this. and then you know like the sisters have to reverse that spell because shit starts getting weird if it’s active for too long so like all of this stuff Stops happening to paige and she feels like she should be grateful bc that was obviously all very crazy and unexplainable but at the same time like,,, she’s a little well. she doesn’t wan’t to use the word disappointed but like. she doesn’t know, there was something right about being there. the only issue is now that she’s not being brought there by the force she’s not entirely sure how to get there. her only clue is p3, because she knows where that is, she’s been there before. and she remembers the house and everything, but she’s not just gonna drive around san francisco looking for one particular house, that’s too desperate (but she definitely ends up doing this). and then one day, she actually finds the house she would always end up at, and she just. doesn’t know what to do. she has an address, but what is she supposed to do with this information? until she sees piper coming out, and recognizes her as the owner of p3. so now paige is trying to put the pieces together, and she can’t help but wonder,, is she related to the halliwells? is this some weird cosmic push by the universe to help her find her family? but what’s she supposed to do? hi. i think your mom might've abandoned me at birth. what's for dinner? no. i don't think so. so she lets it be. but then a newspaper falls in front of her, open to the obits. and it’s weird. and she shouldn’t go, because she doesn’t actually know them. she has to remind herself that she’s not actually their family. that’s just some dream she’s concocted in her head. still, she could just go to pay her condolences, honor the woman she once thought to be her sister. and the universe did seem to be pushing her towards it. and then she nearly gives phoebe a panic attack and oh god this was a mistake and obviously she’s so self centered to really believe the universe is sending signs to her because that not how it works and just trying to insert herself into the halliwell’s lives is just weird and uncomfortable and she should really stop. until that night, on the helipad. at this point, paige had thought she had gotten used to unexplainable things happening to her, but uhh a wind monster knocking out her date and trying to kill her was um how to put it Unexplainable. and then phoebe, the same halliwell she had traumatized at the service, is right there. and like. yes, paige knows its stupid, and ridiculous, but it’s undeniable at this point. she travels back to the manor, unsure of how she’s going to explain what she’s doing there or how she even knew how to get there. but as it turns out, she doesn’t need to; they were already heading down the stairs on their way to find her.

#charmed #au #paige matthews #💌#margaretanswers

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namjoonchronicles · 6 years ago

Text

robes | nj

↳ genre fluff, domestic au, namjoon husband au, marriage au ain’t no smut inside i think? is that scene considered smut hmm no idea

↳ words 4k

↳ summary the ordeals that females face everyday isn’t something new to talk about, but it’s an issue that needs constant reminder. everything is fine and dandy until namjoon heard first-hand, how it actually sounds like. and the event that followed suit is a bonus intended soothe the heaviness of the first half, you’re welcome. prepare to be a ball of mush

↳ warning slight suggestive content, catcalling, feminism, public indecency, sexual harassment (so you know what it looks like), disturbing descriptions regarding masturbation; public transport, corn dogs is a food, mentions of pornography, heart goes boom-boom material--what even is these warnings, but it’s all true so, you’ve been warned don’t come whining at me kim gyeongmin is also namjoon’s baby sister’s actual name, i know bc i asked him.

↳ namjoonchronicles’ honorary tag list @kai-tashi @joon94net @yoongiseesaws @yourlocalalien @mentallycryinghanriver @majestikblue @septemberalien

↳ special thanks to @fangirlaholicxx for she’s having an exam week and still deliver, a dependable wife indeed; she liked this, that’s why i’m posting it... also I’m in need of my readers’ blood

↳ song maisie peters ‘feels like this’

How does Namjoon react to you being catcalled? Not great. Not great at all, really.

He is sitting anxiously in his own office, after sending you off alone to get some things Gyeongmin needed for her big day. Because he was so stricken with the need to protect you constantly, he had to give you a call and hear your voice to make sure you’re alright.

“Hello…” chic voice, business-only tone. “Hi, it’s me, are you anywhere nearby the office?” he asked, finding random excuses to get you home earlier than you plan. The closest building he could think of, being his own office. “I’m just walking out the store, why? Is there something you want me to get you?” you asked, genuinely concerned that he might be needing something and because you’re not far away from the store yet, you turned around to head back where you came out of.

“No, I just…” and then he heard it. A raunchy voice, whistling and moaning out loud.

“Hot stuff, where you going looking nice like that!” “You look like my future baby mama…” They howled. They clink bottles. They stuck their tongue out. And attempt to get near. “Who you callin’? You have to get off the phone, and get off of me, pretty princess!” “I hope it’s not your boyfriend… I’ll be so sad.”

Namjoon held on his phone, tight. His lips felt dry, he clenches his jaw and balled his fist. He was only hearing this, and it felt disgusting. You, on the other hand, were experiencing it, as the phone call progresses.

“That looks heavy, can you carry it? Do you want my help, lady?” the grouchy voice is mocking. Namjoon straightens up in his seat.

“Just what? I can’t hear you, these dumbasses are speaking so loud,” you covered one ear and spoke louder through the phone. “She just calls us dumbasses!” a roar of laughter followed suit and Namjoon let out a sentence in harsh rasps, “Just get to my office as fast as you can.”

You stared at your phone while the catcallers showed a derogatory moves, by moving their hips and rubbing their manhood over their jeans. You shake your head and continued your pace. It sucks. Walking along as a young woman, sucks. And it’s sad. Sad because, it had become the norm. It’s upsetting to say, “They’re like that, because I’m a woman.” It’s unsettling, terrorising and degrading. To feel like you’re at fault, because you’re a women and was treated like that.

But you had a fair share of it. You know, the moment you stepped into the office, Namjoon will want to talk about it. He didn’t have to sputter a word, because his face says it all. His aura, his body-language, everything is so clear. Namjoon, when it comes to you, bares it all. You set the bags down, next to your purse, then placed the take-outs on the wooden coffee table Namjoon has in his studio. Ridding your cardigan, you sat with a huff and Namjoon replaced a book in his shelf. Today, he decided to reread his favorite page in ‘Boys Don’t Cry’ by Malorie Blackman. He glanced over his shoulder at you and saw how you were biting on corn dogs on a stick, playing with your phone on his couch.

Impatient, he dashes, “It doesn’t bother you?” “What?” you mumbled, chewing mindlessly. Lying, feigning, fabricating the fact that it did. You were doing what every other girl did. Well, what every other powerless and unnerving girls who go through this every day, would do. Ignoring it. Moving on.

“They said some pretty obnoxious things, babe,” he turns to face you, standing up.

“It’s normal, why are you so worked up by it… it’s what they do when they see women walking alone,” you swallowed in a hurry and smacked your tongue, only to gnaw another bite. The way you replied shows how you neglect the weight of the conversation. He was afraid for your safety. Your well-being. Your condition when he’s not around.

“Corn dogs?” You took one for him and held it out. “How are you so… relaxed?” Namjoon joined you on the couch and took half of the corn dog into his mouth. He is angry, and hungry. It’s a bad combination.

“Listen,” you mashed your lips together before continuing, “It’s what I dealt with, every single day when I was single. I stayed in apartments alone, walked home from work alone, I get catcalled. It happens to me, it happens to everybody. And you know I stayed single longer than you. Before you, I was not in a relationship. I had to commute by train. I could be in my own car and still get catcalled. The things you hear, aren’t even half of the things I’ve heard before…”

“You’re telling me, it’s actually a lot worse?!” he exclaims. The sauce get smeared on the corner of his lips and you thumbed them away before licking them off your own thumb, grinning and resuming your horrifying ordeal with catcalling assholes. Namjoon looks like he’s in an on-going horror movie, except it’s real life.

“One time, I was commuting the train and didn’t sit because I wanted to stare out the windows, this random dude came from behind and starts nuzzling his ding-dongs on my bum… and another time, I did find a seat but this old pensioner starts tapping his manhood, smirking at me with his knees spread wide… I just look away, that’s why I carry backpacks all the time. So they can’t touch my bum.”

Namjoon stopped chewing, and placed his half-eaten corn dog down. He was visibly upset. “Let me finish that for you…” you took his corndog without hearing his reply.

It shouldn’t have been like that. It doesn’t matter what you wore, what girls wore, they should be able to roam the streets freely, without feeling like they’re being watched all the time. The world should have been safe for them as well. But here we are…

“If you ask me why it is so, man are used to jerking off on images of women, they’re looking for more thrill by jerking off on a real person, in a more public setting. It’s in the nature of man. A symbol of power, domination, jilted bravery. Playboys, Maxims, Victoria Secrets, they’re all tools to that. And for people who couldn’t find satisfaction out of it, they engorge into a more fronting situation, and then that leads to rape. All kinds of rapes, date rapes, club rapes, rapes. When things aren’t readily for them. And if that doesn’t fulfill their fantasy, they kill. Like Ted Bundy. Obsession turns to murder. And it all began with a somewhat ‘harmless’ pornography. That’s why I’m against it. Objectifying women. We are more than our curves, more than our boobs and womanhood.”

More. Namjoon listened to you attentively. He doesn’t intrude, doesn’t speak over your voice, he welcomes all your opinions. It’s why he married you after all. You and him are equals. Although he wasn’t the one having to fight daily over catcallers, he has a number of women in his life who went through this and wants to protect them. Feminism was not about freeing the nipples, it’s about being respected as a human being. What good does freeing the nipples bring to feminism? We are more ridiculed than ever because we’re feeding into their desires. To see us bare without a thread of clothing, freely, without doing anything, like the girls in Playboy magazine! It doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t make sense at all.

Namjoon is reminded about the article you wrote in your blog a few years back, “All that feminism should be is to celebrate women’s freedom to creativity, to earn and to be a part of the mechanism that brings forth a better city, country, world. That’s what image of feminism is. It’s not about having equal physical strength, wearing a cloth that resembles a man, because we do not need to be reminded about the very creature that denounces us. We wanted to be us, not them.” He felt empowered by it. Because he too is a public figure, he can’t say certain things out loud, but if he’s looking for a feminism icon, he’s looking at one, and lucky enough to marry her. That itself is enough to make him blush.

What irks him the most is that he couldn’t be with you 24/7; but he forgot that there are others in the world who couldn’t be there for their loved ones too. Protectiveness is the ability to provide a safe environment for everyone. It is not just about shielding a person from physical harm. Because harm exist in many forms: verbal, mental, spiritual. He decided that the first thing about being a feminist is to have courage. Courage. Courage is not slaying a dragon with a sword the size of a child. It’s the ability to do what you can, with what you have, where you are at the time. That is one of the many thing he finds attractive on you. The ability to speak out, to remain so calm at the time of panic, the dire need to change the world, armed with your resilience.

“God, I love you,” staring at you, in tunneling gaze. He shrinks himself, sitting sideways to watch you eat your third corn dog, his hands sandwiched between his knees, “And I’m going to get you another can of pepper spray.”

Your eyes travel up, behind his head, on the wall where both of his robes are hung, never really realizing that they’ve come home from travelling.

“Are you free this Saturday?” he whips out his phone and began scrolling down his contacts, and stopping at Jungkook’s number. “Why?” you smacked your lips together, running your tongue along the length, focusing on your food instead of your husband. “We’re taking boxing classes...”

But I already know how to box, Namjoon… He learned that fact, the hard way. Good thing is that, you went easy.

All he had to do was touch your thigh. And you’re a whirlwind of a mess within. The traffic looks awfully busy from the view of your balcony this morning but once you embarked on your journey, it wasn’t as bad. Namjoon, as per usual, begins fiddling on the car radio to plug his aux-in with some good music of your taste. And that means, a whip of good ol’ Hozier.

“Work song?” he asked as you shut the back door and you spat, “Yeah...” Fixing your glasses, you tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, pressing your lips together, smoothing your one piece pinching pink dress that enunciates your figure to a whole new level. To Namjoon’s dismay. But he lets it pass because it’s a special day. And it’s in a private setting, no catcallers there. Even if they were, he’s ready to knock them unconscious, if he needs to.

As soon as the chorus hits, your phone rings. Namjoon pressed them on his ear, knowing that you can’t answer the call, he breathed in a sing-song voice, “Hello~”

The car reverses and cornered right, before motioning straight to leave the parking lot.

“We are just leaving...” Namjoon spoke through the phone, flinching at you once in awhile. Hands on the steering wheel, clawing on a perfect 10-2 position on the clock, he could sense that you were anxious and trying to keep the situation as chill as possible.

He covers the phone with his hand and leaned over to the driver side, murmuring softly, “They’re asking if you took the pins.”

“Yup, it’s in the bag on the backseat,” you blurted in one breathe. Passing a smile to hide your nervousness. It’s a very big day. On the contrary of yesterday’s topic, where you stood brave and resounding, today, you’re gentle and exquisitely charming. As the event fits.

The call ended with, “We’re on the way...” and you suddenly reminded that you were wearing shoes instead of heel so you kept your eyes forward and ask your handy husband to check if you brought your heels under the seat with his long arms. He reaches under your seat easily, and takes them out. He confirmed that it most definitely there.

“Gosh, it’s a long way to the halls though...” you whined against the steering wheel, hitting your forehead on them at the red light. You know the place quite well and you know that there’s no parking close enough to the hall, you try to prepare yourself mentally. There’s nothing more you hate than to walk in heels. Namjoon was all smiles since morning. He was humming a melody and was tranquil ever since he woke up. It didn’t take a lot to wake him today and his excitement is highly contagious. Which was news, considering that it was pretty strenuous late night workout he had with you. No hickeys this morning, unlike usual. He was always pretty gentle. Floating touches, airy kisses, like he’s handling a glass sculpture. Making love is art. It’s hard to register the image of this suited handsome man and his expensive Rolex, staring forlornly out the window of the moving car,, the same way he was last night; all hot, sweaty and heavy. But here we are… The contrast was baffling and pleasing.

“Check the dashboard and see if there’s tissue mini packs,” patting on his knee repeatedly, urgently. He reaches for it while mumbling, “Why do you need tissue packs.”

“Oh you’ll see.”

When you arrived with Namjoon, you kicked away the shoes and traded for heels, balancing yourself by putting your hand on his pecs. Getting a good grab at those defined muscles and perky clothed nipples. He holds your wrist and handbag, his stance barely staggering at your weight. His eyes drops to the view of your hand on his chest and he bit the insides his cheek. His lips protruding like a baby chick's.

“You’re enjoying this,” Namjoon grins. He’s not necessarily hating the attention. It was his wife and as dirty minded he was, his wife was double that number. The universe ain’t lying that it created two pieces of the same soul when Namjoon met you. “I most certainly am,” you switch to the other feet and, “what good is your husband thick pecs if its not for grabbing?” You tilt your head to one side and claw his tiddies through his cloth. He winced away, giggling. “I’m suing you.”

You walked away from him and, “Okay, do me a full view and tell me is everything in place...” He crossed one arm on his chest and rest his elbow on them, to purse his lips, “The ass is definitely there.” You marched at him and grabbed your handbag with a playful slap on his stomach. “I fucking hate heels,” you growled, and he shot, “Did I ever tell you, you look fucking hot when you curse? But today, extra hot. I think it’s the dress...” “No honey,” you shake your head with an angelic smile, locking hands with him, “I look hot because it’s me.” He was stunned, like a light bulb lights up in his head and he goes, almost trance-like, “You’re right. You’re so smart I love you...”

Once you got there, Namjoon is holding onto your bag, standing against the handrail, next to his dad and Gyeongmin’s boyfriend, watching you take over. Gyeongmin looks dazzling in her long dress, teal green, and her hair in a regal bun— absolutely exquisite. She had to continuously bow down because you were too short and you needed to pin her graduation robes in the right place. “Are you getting a calf workout, Gyeongmin?” Namjoon joked.

And Gyeongmin pressed her lips together so that her smile doesn’t get bigger than it is. Couples that tease each other, stay together. You bit your smile and threw him the car keys that you couldn’t give him before because you began to fix her robes the moment you found her.. He caught them with one hand with a smug smile.

“Alright, the colored band goes underneath the hook, and if it rode up as you walk, all you have to do is tug it down hard,” you instructed her. You’re the busiest person there. Her mother helps carry her things, her phone and watching you groom her daughter to perfection. There’s several graduands around but only Gyeongmin earns your attention. She was 75% per cent ready.

“It’s going to be heavy, and it’s going to be warm but later in the halls it will be very cold,” you reminded her and in a glance, you caught her shimmering eyes, impending tears about to fall. You noticed them but you look away.

“Why...” you sang. And Gyeongmin sniffed. “I’ve nev—“ “A-a-ah, no crying allowed,” you gently scolded her and changed the subject, “Did you eat anything today? Did you pee? It’s very important, it’s very difficult to pee with robes on.” “I had bread...” she sniffed and seemingly recover from the tiny breakdown. Namjoon caught your flapping hand, “There’s mint in the bag, can you take that out?”

When he came, he was already chewing one mint. “Those are not for you...” you slapped his thick bum and made Gyeongmin giggle. Of course, laugh, smile—it’s your happy day. Unwrapping one mint for her, you popped them in her mouth but your loving husband, unwraps one for you and pops them in your mouth while you pin Gyeongmin’s robe in place

“The mortar board please?” you asked and you know that she was too tall for you to put them neatly so you dragged Namjoon by the sleeves again to have him placed the mortar board on her. He does so very carefully, as if she’s made of glass. Her boyfriend smiled proudly at her. Her doe eyes looking up from the view of Namjoon’s nostril and a smile is stuck on her face. They weren’t very close growing up. Namjoon chose a demanding job at 15, producing and writing lyrics, and the only memory they shared was when they’re teenagers. Young adulthood was also not very promising. The relationship grew even more estranged because they’ve become completely different from each other. While Namjoon travels the world, Gyeongmin is a full-time student, studying in the US. You decided that on Gyeongmin’s graduation day, everyone should play a role. You helped Namjoon reconnect with his family, especially Gyeongmin.

No longer is he the boy who picks on his sister, no longer is he the one to take away all the umbrella in the house because he was fighting with her.

“Namjoon hyung is very lucky,” her boyfriend sighed, reclining next to you, “Hot sister, hot wife... hot mom.”

“You’ll fit in the family right away, but Namjoon is very scary, especially to male subordinate,” you wiggled your brows at him, fetching the bags. Gyeongmin wanted to take photos before the scroll receiving ceremony because she’s all prepared now. You suggested it. Namjoon’s all smart with his black suits, and brown vest, Prada cufflinks.

“Hello handsome,” you tiptoed and fixed his tie, smoothing down the vest. He tucks your hair behind your ears, “You wore the earrings I bought you.”

“Ms. Kim Gyeongmin’s family?” the photographer called. You unknowingly pushed yourself aside, next to the pillar, holding your bag, standing behind the camera until Gyeongmin calls out your name but you were too occupied with the crowd going behind you to listen. When you turned your head in her direction, she was waving her hand for you to stand beside her but your husband was not in view.

“What are you doing... you have to be in the family photo, you dumb-dumb,” he was actually next to you now, sliding his grasp down your arm and stopping at your wrist, he practically led the way. “But I-I’m not,” you stammered needlessly.

“Like it or not, you’re a Kim now,” your father in law beamed at you. You let out a breathe you didn’t know you were holding in. The photographer aims for the shoot but he stopped momentarily. He pushed a step for you to stand on. And Namjoon covers his mouth, snickering, earning disapproval from the rest of the family. You pouted and looked down your feet.

“Why are you so mean…” “Don’t tease her like that!” “Namjoon, be nice.”

“Can I have everyone looking at the camera please?” The photographer commands and that’s when Namjoon whispered to your ear while his eyes was glued to the camera, “Thank you for marrying me...” his forefinger hook themselves around your pinky, “Mrs. Kim.”

Sweet. A moment there. Where everyone else disappears.

“Cheesy...” you rolled your eyes. “Fun sized” he teased you.

“3...! 2...! 1...!” The camera flashes.

As guests are allowed inside the hall, you waddled to the entrance. On your way, you noticed something strange. All eyes were following Namjoon, you had to swivel to the side shyly, or so you thought, until you realise that he wasn’t there. You spun around in dire panic. Suddenly a pair of large hand settled themselves on the curve of your bum, startling you until you see the face of those brazen hands. The equally brazen smile decorated his face.

“You notice they’re staring at you?” He gushes with a wide grin, standing tall and proud next to you. A hand resting above your hip line, as it should, he controls his pace to match yours. He glances at you, warm and affectionately.

“And Gyeongmin?” You asked. “Taking pictures with her friends,” he passed. “She should. She really should. There won’t be time to meet up again,” you tattered, reminded of your own graduation in the past.

Namjoon was deeply in debt to you. He never enrolled college and because of that, had never worn a graduation robe like you did. He wouldn’t know how to put the robes on for others so he was grateful that you were there. You’ve worn them before and knew what was iffy about wearing them. Gyeongmin isn’t missing out on anything. Despite having a brother who never went to university.

Namjoon holds the phone up for a selfie with you looking at him. He gives his legendary ‘v-sign’ pose, looking absolutely dashing in his suit. Smelling expensive too.

There’s a poke on your hip and it made you turn around, but before you could make sense of who it was, Gyeongmin wraps you in her arms, resting her chin on your shoulder.

“Thank you so-so-so much for being here... for fixing my robe, for making sure everything goes well, for marrying my idiot brother,” she hums, closing her eyes and gave you a tiny squeeze. Namjoon looked very offended, squinting his eyes at her. His mother came to rub your back as well, patting Namjoon’s arm right after.

“You lucky punk,” his father delivered a hearty slap on the back on his shoulder. “Dad, my shoulder will get dislocated...” Namjoon whimpers. “Okay, it’s Gyeongmin’s day, let’s not overshadow her, yes?” You warned Namjoon with the eyes.

“Why am I getting bullied today?” Namjoon whined. “Because you look too handsome and is making people staring at us...” you pushed your sides at him. “I didn’t know being handsome was a crime... Seokjin hyung lived just fine...” Namjoon had to be taken away because he doesn’t stop talking. With another selfie with the family, it signifies how the day of celebration comes to an end.

All that’s left to do is to wait for Gyeongmin to take the scroll. She received a distinction award and delivered a speech because she held the Chancellor's Award for Best Student of The Year. In the speech, she thanked her family members, her professors, and friends for being a fuel that drives her forward. And towards the end, she mentioned her famous older brother, Kim Namjoon as a role model and a figure to stand behind—his morality, determination and poise.

“Despite the difficult path that you created on your own, you remain strong and agile,” Gyeongmin adds, “Relentlessly, and in the peak of your youth, you’ve disregarded your teenage years, for the greater good, your ideas and thrived... you are not just my inspiration, but to everyone else who knew what you fought for.”

Namjoon’s eyes glimmer in pride. He held your hand tightly although his face on the screen doesn’t show how nervous he was. He filled the gaps of your fingers with his own, squeezing them tight before the camera pans away and he brought your knuckle to his lips.

“You want tissue?” You teased him, pressing your forehead on his shoulder. “I will need no such thing,” he sniffed, “But maybe just one.”

Pause. “You helped her write that, didn’t you?” “I most certainly did not,” you chuckled. “You so did,” he shot, “Who in their right mind writes ‘but to everyone who knew what you fought for’ if it wasn’t you?” “I suggested,” you reclined, protesting, “But I didn’t think she was gonna put it in!” You shrug your shoulder, giggling with a smile all the way to your ear.

Namjoon was seated on your left, and he stretched his arm all the way for his hand to cap on your right knee and slid up your thigh. “Don’t put it there,” you gritted your teeth, and removed his hand at once.

“Why not.” “Just don’t.” “What happens if I do?” “Namjoon, I swear...”

All he had to do was touch your thigh. And you’re a whirlwind of a mess within.

“You want to go home, straight?” He quirked an eyebrow at you. One look at you, and he squawks, “Let’s go home, I know you want to go home... I got you.”

“Shut up, oh my god,” you bewildered.

You pushed him till he stumbles to the side, waddling out the hallway outside the hall with your sleazy husband.

“What the fuck is wrong with you...” you contorted your face in feigned disgust. You kick your heels away, muttering, “I can’t deal with heels anymore. That’s the limit.”

Namjoon picks those heels up as you walk away barefooted as if you didn’t leave anything behind.

“Good thing is that we don’t need heels for what we’re about to do…” “And what is that…” “You know what it is.”

493 notes · View notes

gwoongi · 6 years ago

Text

𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗎𝗌 ✰ taehyung (3)

𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗎𝗌 kim taehyung / reader genre: zombie apocalypse au words: 5114

“This won’t be forever, Y/N,” he said, with such a sincere and genuine voice that you felt your stomach knot and churn, a lump forming in your throat. Suddenly you need another drink of water. “You won’t be sad forever.”

warnings: graphic content, death references, gore, swearing, dark themes

a/n: some people really might dislike the flashback additions i add, but they’re pretty much there to add context to the situation + to also develop the characters more, without me adding unnecessary dialogue or details which will slow each scene. omg also a note, (potential writer bias here), but y/n is a very . troubled character, and so she really isn’t this “strong unaffected leader”, she has some issues + i hope the story reflects these issues respectfully ((bc i worked rlly hard))

01. denver ↝ 02. holiday with me ↝ 03. sad forever ↝ 04. surely ↝ 05. scorpion ↝ 06. shakespeare

5 WEEKS LATER.

At nobody’s surprise, the car ran out of gas around three days after Oklahoma. Since leaving the car on the side of the road in the middle of Oklahoma, it had been just Taehyung and yourself, walking the open road, deprived of water and a place to sleep. It was impossible to tell where you were now, walking like biters yourselves, staggering across the dusty roads.

Waking to the sound of refreshing birdsong, you squinted in the tawny sunlight. Rolling your head to your shoulder, your gaze landed on Taehyung crouched before you, the back of his hand pressed against your forehead worriedly, a frown etched to his lips.

You yawned, and he moved away his hand. “You’ve got a fever.”

A shaky laugh left your lips. “Ain’t that funny.”

His boots shifted on the gravel of the floor inside the multi storey car-park, your back leaned against the graffiti covered wall. A halo above your head in yellow spray-paint, Taehyung figured you looked pretty despite looking as you’d expect in an apocalypse. Though, he didn’t bet that he looked any better.

“Tired?” he asked, cocking his head to look at you as he zipped up his backpack.

“My legs hurt,” you admitted quietly, voice hoarse. “Thirsty.”

“Me too,” Taehyung muttered, stroking hairs away from your damp forehead. “We’ll find somewhere to stay, I promise, and I’ll find us something to drink. Just...don’t close your eyes, okay? Try and stay awake for me, okay?”

Keeping your eyes open as he helped lift you off the floor felt like the most impossible thing in an impossible world. “I’m gonna die from dehydration. Isn’t that hilarious?”

He grunted, supporting your weight. “We can’t afford to think like that.”

“‘m gonna die on you,” you continued, attempting to walk without his help. “I’m the leader and I’ve led you to death.”

“Don’t think like that,” Taehyung replied, out of breath slightly as he carried himself and your weight down a short flight of stairs. Despite being your companion crossing the country, he wasn’t sure if he was comfortable enough calling you a friend, yet. There was a tension, an unspoken thing between the two of you - a refusal to get to know each other, but an urge to know everything at once. Taehyung never asked questions, feeling he wasn’t close enough to get the answers. Still, same as before, he needed you to survive, and you needed him, now more than ever. “You can’t let it guilt you. Stop talking, it’s gonna wear you out. Just stay quiet and keep walking, okay? I’m right here.”

“I’m the worst leader.”

“Nu-huh. You’re the best leader, okay? You’ve got us so far. Don’t give up now, come on.”

Heaving himself forwards through the closed iron door, a flood of light made you grimace with a loud hiss, bringing your sleeve to cover your eyes as Taehyung carried you across the length of the car-park. Occasionally he would stumble, jumping you back up straight with an arm around his shoulders, your legs giving away and dragging like a doll across the concrete.

“Hey, hey, stay awake, okay?” Taehyung said, his voice more frantic now, as he crouched his head to look at your face closer. The sweat had opened up your pores, and your dark circles were even more prominent as a feature of your face. He didn’t mind. “Eyes on me, Y/N. Can you hear me?”

An incoherent grumble was good enough and he cursed softly, walking quicker across the park, his breaths laboured and a line of sweat building up at his hairline, his fringe sticking like mixture to a bowl to his forehead. Each step was followed with a breathless, “please,”, his fingers tightening on your skin, his heart physically hurting at the thought of letting you down...just a bit further, now. Just a little bit further-

Losing his steps, stumbling over his own feet as you hung limp by his side, Taehyung let you fall to the ground with a soft exhale of breath, your hair spilling out like a halo around your head. The sun was hot on his skin as he bent over you, checking for a pulse, relieved when he found it. By now, you were unresponsive.

He was panicked- his hands trembled as he cradled your face in his hands, calling you back to him, searching for a response in your face. Never before had he felt so afraid at the thought of being alone in this world, alone without a companion- without a possible friend. Without you.

“Stop right there!”

Hands still cradling your face, Taehyung looked up immediately, his eyes squinting in the midday sunlight. In a few seconds, they focused on a dark silhouette standing on top of a barricaded storage container, painted a navy blue with the words, “WILL SHOOT ON SIGHT!” sprayed on. Clearly he hadn’t noticed that. He was mostly thankful they hadn’t shot on sight. The figure did not move, standing still with their gun pointed in his direction. Without looking, too, Taehyung could sense about three other bandits pointing guns at him, masks pulled up over their faces, caps covering eyes.

“Please-”

“Are you infected?” the same voice called, gruff and loud. A shooter nearby shot down an approaching biter, slow in movement but regardless, still a threat.

“What? No, we-”

“Is she bit?” the voice repeated, pointing the gun at your body laying on the floor, sweat pooling by your arms. Taehyung looked down at you worriedly and then looked back up.

“No!” he was confident.

The figure lowered their gun for a moment. “Is she dead?”

“No,” Taehyung replied without a second of breath. “No! We’ve been walking for days and we ran out of water. She’s dehydrated.”

A second shooter scurried across the top of the container. “The girl’s down. Not a threat.”

“Anybody who’s not us is a threat.”

The second shooter frowned behind the mask. “Give them the water. They ain’t a threat to us yet. You’d want them to do the same.”

Although he seemed irritated, the first figure lowered his gun and pushed past the female shooter, hopping down from the container onto the floor. The girl remained indifferent, glancing at Taehyung in the middle of the street. Wordless, she waved her hand and the containers swiftly shifted, as if on cue, revealing a gate into a cluttered road, decorated with newspapers and large crates with, “NORTHGATE” engraved on them. Taehyung let out a sigh of immense relief, shifting to collect you in his arms, and without objection, moved towards the gates.

NEW YORK CITY, DECEMBER, 3 YEARS AGO. 2 WEEKS BEFORE THE OUTBREAK.

“What a way to spend Christmas.”

Taehyung had never spent a Christmas away from his family. Of course, with his sister being a second year student at NYU, she was breezing through her second Christmas away with ease. To the corner of her dorm room, a Christmas tree shedding bristles stood at an angle, with ugly decorations and a sponge at the top acting as the star- “Christmas on a budget,” she said when he mentioned it, and he laughed. In a room further down the hall, her roommates finished wrapping their gifts to give out in three days time, and Taehyung, amongst the sound of carols, focused his attention on the thickening pile of snow on the windowpane outside, the frost glued to the glass in web decorations.

“Tell me about it,” Taehyung replied animatedly, turning his attention to his sister who sat down on the circle carpet in front of him. She wore a bright green jumper decorated in gingham and flashing bulbs sewn into the wool, and plain black leggings with fluffy red and white socks. On her hair, a set of reindeer ears finished her look, meanwhile Taehyung settled with a similar jumper and bare feet, numbed by the fire.

His sister’s dorm sufficed as home. For now, at least.

“I can’t believe we can’t make it home this year,” she continued, dunking a Custard Cream into her hot chocolate. “You think they’re okay back home?”

“We can’t afford to think any different,” Taehyung replied, trying to remain optimistic. But with upper-New York in quarantine, and evacuations running almost daily, he was finding it harder to hang onto hope. “We’ll catch a flight when the airlines are back open. Knowing Dad, he’s probably taken them all to Grandma’s place. For comfort, and safety, while the raids finish. Did you hear about the riots in Detroit the other day?”

She nodded. “Scary stuff. I did some research before the internet shut down in the dorms, and it doesn’t look as extreme in Korea. I mean, the President was assassinated and there’s currently no stable Government, but, aside from that, everything seemed to be in working order. Daegu was fine, at least. I didn’t look anywhere else.”

At that, Mandy, a second roommate, stepped out from the thin corridor. “I heard England was the same. Brits executed their prime-minister a few nights ago. There was articles about them wanting to have Tom Hiddleston as the leader of the UK, which, to be honest, sounds pretty good. I’d go visit.”

Laughing, his sister thought nothing of it. She turned to Taehyung with a gentle gaze, not enough to cause panic, but enough to send a message without words.

“Did your friends leave campus already?” Mandy asked Taehyung, switching on the kettle. The TV fizzled to a static and she frowned, “great. Looks like the power’s cutting out too. Is it this bad in the Halls?”

“We still have internet. And, a few left campus. I think Zac is still in the dorms, though. He hasn’t left in a couple of days. He said he wasn’t feeling well. Figures he got sick from walking past the quarantine zone. I didn’t wanna take chances so I haven’t been there in a couple days.”

“Maybe you should stay here for the night,” Mandy offered kindly, sipping her freshly brewed tea. “I mean, until the storm has thawed. If Zac is sick, we don’t want you to catch it. We can drop by on the way to the student store in the morning and get your things. I don’t think the airlines are gonna reopen anytime soon, and subways were closed months ago, and I don’t think we’ll catch a ride on the bus in this weather. We’ll have to hole up in here until the military says it’s safe to leave.”

Taehyung accepted, taking a blanket from Mandy after she hurried to their storage closet to fish one out, with pillows spare for the couch, a new makeshift bed in front of the roaring fire.

“We’ll be together if anything bad happens,” his sister said, in a whisper, minutes before mandatory curfew at 9pm. “Promise?”

“Yeah,” Taehyung replied, his hand gripping her own. “I promise...”

PRESENT DAY. [x]

At the sound of bed sheets rustling, Taehyung jolted awake. Unable to differentiate the past and the present, Taehyung opened his eyes expecting to see the fireplace, and the Christmas tree, and his sister on the circle rug. Instead, he noticed an unfamiliar room, drowned in a desert-beige, the light peeping in from a rectangular barred window.

He dragged the chair he had fallen asleep on closer to the army bed you were lying on, the noise as grating as the sound of chalk on a blackboard. Checking for injuries, his hands smoothed away strands of hair from your face, the trembling anxiety faded but still present if he really concentrated.

With a groan, you tried to sit up, but his hands came to your shoulders and settled you back on the canvas sheets. “Where are we?”

“How are you feeling?” he asked, avoiding the question.

You pondered the question- “stiff. But I’m okay. What is this place?”

Taehyung looked over his shoulder at the empty room. “You were passed out on the road when they found us. We were headed for their camp and they stopped me for questioning. They let us in, gave you water, let you rest.”

“Oh,” your voice said, scratchy. By the headboard of the small, iron bed, Taehyung reached for a glass of warming water, handing it to you quickly. “Thankyou.” You swallowed half the water. “Are we staying here?”

Taehyung looked hesitant, taking a sip from the almost empty cup and setting it back down on the table. “I don’t know if we can trust these people. At the very least, we’ll stay for the night. They could give us some supplies to leave. I’m already running low on ammo, and we have nothing left to eat. I don’t think we have any other choice but to stay.”

You knew that there was no other way. Despite his efforts to keep you down, you shuffled back up off the bed, your back leaning with a heavy thud against the drywall. Taehyung pushed back on his chair, his hands knitted together anxiously as he watched you grimace, and scratch your throat absentmindedly.

“How long have we been here?” you asked.

“Not long,” Taehyung said quietly, looking the window to see the falling sunlight change angles. “It’s been a couple hours.”

“Are they at least nice? Does the camp look secure?”

Taehyung opened his mouth, but paused, trying to find the right words. “It’s not a camp. It’s more like, a street. A small little community of really angry people. I didn’t get to look around much, but I overheard one of the shooters saying that there was another small group of survivors outside near the farm. But, from what I heard, I think we got lucky being let inside.”

Having nothing of value to say in reply, you simply stayed quiet. Picking the skin around your nails, Taehyung shuffled back on the chair and pulled it to the wall with the window, standing on the plastic and peeking outside. The window was on the ground, meaning you weren’t, and he gulped at the sight of jeep wheels driving past, and black boots, similar to the military. It reminded him of New York, and the night before the bombing of the quarantine near NYU. He cringed and moved away, placing the chair back near the bed and hovering nearby, debating whether to sit or stand.

“You talk in your sleep, too,” you said quietly, meeting his gaze as it fluttered up from beneath his overgrown fringe. He offered a lopsided smile, curious yet nervous all at once.

“Yeah? Must have picked it up from you.” Instead of the chair, he sat on the bed. “Did I say anything funny?”

“No. Most of it was mumbles,” you replied, smiling up at him.

Taehyung laughed through his nose, his face downcast and fingers twiddling in his lap. “Ah, pity. I wish we still had cameras, you could have filmed it for fun.”

“I wish I still had my camera, so I could look back on my life before now,” you answered, after a short delay of silence. “Remind myself of people’s faces. Manipulate myself into thinking this is all a dream.”

Without really thinking, Taehyung reached to grip your hand. These days, he hasn’t really thought at all. You looked up at him, comforted at the way his hand felt on your own, smoothing circles into the skin of your knuckles, exploring the lines on your palm, fingering each separation. Oh, how beautiful it was, to find comfort in the presence of someone you barely knew, but trusted entirely.

Before you could reply, the door swung open, and his hands moved from your own back to his lap. He rose, too, reaching for the back of his jeans, gripping the pistol tucked inside.

The same female shooter from the container entered, her rifle swung over her shoulder, skin sweaty and tanned from the camo tank-top she wore underneath her black jacket, discarded somewhere. Taehyung remembered the details.

“She’s awake, then.”

“Yeah,” you replied bluntly, polite enough to suffice as gratefulness. “Thank you. For letting us in.”

The woman sighed, her shoulders sagging in the movement. “Well, no need to thank me yet. It’s still being cleared with the boss. Rules are rules. Feeling better, at least?”

You nodded slightly, staring at Taehyung as he chose to speak for you. “Can we leave this room, yet? It’s stuffy, and I think she’d like to walk for a while, isn’t that right, Y/N?”

He stared at you, sending messages without words. You nodded again, “please.”

Rolling her shoulders, the woman stepped to the side, leaving space for you to both walk out. “Don’t make yourself too at home, but you’re free to look around. Inside this building is restricted to outsiders, but the outside near the farm is free. There’s another group of survivors nearby- they’re cranky and hostile, but, they had children. We never refuse kids.”

Already, you were learning little things about this place. To be truthful, you didn’t even know what to call where you were- were they captors? Saviours? Enemies? You hesitated to jump to conclusions, instead moving to follow Taehyung out of the confined room with a curt nod and no words. The woman didn’t seem to mind; she slammed the door shut behind her and pointed her gun in the direction of a raised shutter, leading out to the luscious-looking farmland out back. She didn’t follow. She took off in a different direction, signalling to her group with words neither you or Taehyung could understand.

“I have a really bad feeling about this place,” you admitted in a low voice, sticking to Taehyung’s side like glue. The faint smell of sweat and grime that would have repelled you now comforted you instead, and without wanting to come across as unnecessarily clingy, you gently held onto the back of his shirt, letting him lead you out into the scorching sunlight.

“Hopefully,” he began, setting off towards the red and white barn pushed towards the corner of the premises, “we won’t be here long. As soon as we’re clear to leave, we will.”

Realistically, Taehyung knew what happened to newcomers who joined groups where everything felt perfect. Nothing was ever truly perfect, he thought, especially so in a post-apocalyptic world where dead people were coming to life to eat people. Taehyung had seen the movies, bought the T-shirt, played the game- he knew what happened. However, he hoped humanity had changed. He was willing to give this place a chance. If he wanted to survive another night, he’d have to.

The barn was ordinary looking, painted a brick red with white outlines, the picture-perfect barn that every farm had on TV. Surrounding the barn, a field of dead crops created a barren landscape that everybody felt familiar with, the weather not being right to grow crops. Approaching the barn, Taehyung paused when he noticed a young child running out, chased playfully by a Saint Bernard whose pants were louder than birdsong.

It had been a long time since he had seen a child. Or a dog.

He headed towards the barn, smiling affectionately when the little boy looked over with curiosity, his eyes widening in surprise and fright and he yelped in alarm, running back inside the barn. Taehyung hesitated, making you stiffen behind him as the dog growled in your direction, only halting when a man came out of the barn with the child cowering behind his leg. He didn’t look old enough to be a father, but a lot had happened since the outbreak. The man smiled nonetheless, his smile being nothing but warm and inviting.

“Hey, look, it’s the newbies.”

“Newbies?” you mocked without thinking. Although Taehyung gave you a look of mild disappointment, the man did not deter, in-fact he laughed and placed his hands on his hips.

“It’s good to see new faces,” he said earnestly. “They don’t bring in new people often. Welcome.”

“I’m Taehyung. This is Y/N, we won’t be here long,” Taehyung promised, stretching out a hand and shaking the man’s. The man laughed shortly, constantly smiling. His energy was like a breath of fresh air, almost enough to convince you that everything was normal.

“Namjoon. This here is Daniel. Not mine, of course. There’s a couple others in the back of the barn,” the man- Namjoon- replied. “I wouldn’t place your money on getting out of this place so easily. We’ve been here for a few weeks now. We planned to stay for three nights until Jenny’s fever levelled out. They took her in for testing. Said she’s in care, but we haven’t seen her since then.”

Taehyung moved to greet Daniel, crouching to his level. Meanwhile you stared blankly at Namjoon, an expression of doubt and question on your features. He noticed, but didn’t comment.

“They won’t let you visit?” you repeated. “Why?”

Namjoon shrugged, nodding for you to follow him into the barn. “Apparently their main building is off-limits to outsiders. A lot of them in here think she’s dead already. But, it’s nice to keep holding onto hope.”

Without approaching too closely, you made note of the six people in Namjoon’s group, not including himself and Daniel, who was still outside with Taehyung, giggling innocently. What they lacked in looks they made up for in numbers- you hadn’t seen a group look so wrecked in such pristine conditions. Namjoon had turned away, taking a seat on a bale of hay, stroking the Saint Bernard behind his ears lovingly.

“What is this place?” you asked, inching towards the dog whose tag read Leo.

“They don’t really tell us anything since we’re outsiders,” Namjoon began, occasionally looking up to make sure you were listening. He did that a lot. “But, a lot of their crates say Northgate. Nate says it’s a military name, but we obviously can’t prove that from in here, can we?”

“Is it...safe?”

Namjoon hesitated. “I don’t know. The barn is secure. I don’t know much about the actual camp. We mostly stick to ourselves and do whatever they ask. We’re in their territory, after-all. It started out good; they had enough food to go around, we joined them for dinner in their halls and there used to be pigs out in the fields. And then, it changed. They reduced our food supply and gave us small jobs to help out. We’re doing it for Jenny, mostly, otherwise we would have tried to leave. One of our group members, David, left a few days ago.”

“They let him go?” you gasped, trying not to sound too unconvinced that he made it away. But, as expected, Namjoon nodded, thinking purely of the situation. You wondered if it was an act, a coping mechanism. The look of life and hope in his eyes made you feel somehow guilty.

“They asked us if we wanted to leave a few days after the food began running out. David was the only one to pick up and head out.”

Why didn’t you leave?

In reply, however, you said nothing. Nothing seemed like the right thing to say in that moment. Seeing someone so hopeful for the world to change made you feel at ease, almost comfortable in the new and unfamiliar setting. After petting Leo, you stood, turning around to head back towards the entrance to the barn. Daniel hurried past you on your way out, a smile on his face, hair now tied into a bobble above his forehead. Taehyung stood alone, now, outside, watching Daniel leave with a smile.

“Making friends?” you asked, referencing Daniel.

Taehyung nodded with a hum. “I love kids.”

Meeting by his side, you stood in silence, both looking out towards the giant building you walked out of. It looked bigger on the outside- a giant bricked building, with modern windows and a slightly falling apart roof, but intimidating in size and length. It seemed never-ending.

“Taehyung,” you started, your voice quiet so that Namjoon or anybody else wouldn’t hear, “I really don’t like this place. I don’t think we should stay.”

He looked over at you with a frown. “You heard what he said. They’ve been here weeks and still haven’t left.”

“I don’t like that,” you insisted, shaking your head. “I’ve seen thousands of movies like this one, Taehyung. I’m telling you- this is exactly what happened in Season 4 of the The Walking Dead. They get to the safe place and then suddenly find out that the people they’re staying with are cannibals-”

“You’re being paranoid.”

“No,” you reasoned, looking at his face, “I’m being realistic, as usual. Look, it’s your call. If you wanna stay...we will. I’m just putting it out there. Something doesn’t feel right about this place.”

Even though he sighed, Taehyung said nothing; instead, he nodded, patting your shoulder comfortingly. He continued to stare out towards the building, and his mouth dropped to a circle when he noticed two groupies heading in your direction, accompanied by a larger, more plump woman. He pointed it out silently, nudging your shoulder, and as you looked up, you recognised the same woman from earlier, and a shooter that Taehyung seemed to recognise as he jolted in discomfort by your side.

“I see you’ve found the barn!” a voice nobody recognised called from across the lot. The larger woman came into view, the sun bouncing off her skin, a natural highlight made from sweat and grease blinding you as she got closer. “Hi, I’m Rose. You must be the two newcomers everybody’s talking about.”

She looked at you specifically, “it’s good to hear you’re back on your feet. I heard from Snowdon here that you were passed out when you arrived. How do you feel?”

You squirmed. “I’m okay. I was just thirsty. I appreciate the water.”

“You know what,” Rose started, her voice elevated in pitch as she turned to address Snowdon, the female member you barely knew, “I think we should run some tests on this young lady. Make sure that nothing is wrong. Just for safety precautions, of course.”

“No, oh no,” you replied, perhaps a bit too quickly for everybody looked at you with alarm. Rose raised her eyebrows subtly, and Snowdon paused in movement entirely, “I’m fine. Really. I don’t think you need to take any tests. I feel great.”

“Only if you’re sure,” Rose said in reply. She looked silently at the two members behind her and they turned without further word. “I just wanted to let you know that you’re perfectly welcome to stay here for as long as you need. Unfortunately, we can’t let you leave just yet, at least not until we know it’s safe to reopen the gates. Until then, you’re welcome to stay in the barn with the others. Dinner is usually at around sundown, sometimes it’s earlier depending on the weather.”

Taehyung, now slightly uncomfortable, nodded stiffly. “We won’t be of any trouble. As soon as it’s clear, we’d like to head out. We’re with a group, but we got separated. We’re on our way to them, now. We can’t be late.”

Rose smiled, her face like plastic. She reminded you of a robot. “I do hope it’s doable.”

The sound of Rose’s voice must have alerted the others further in the barn, as the sound of footsteps made you look away from the woman and back towards the entrance, where several people you only saw from a distance came out, tanned and burnt, parched and weak. Daniel bounded forward with childlike interest, meanwhile a woman who looked like his mother, or something similar, tumbled after him.

“Excuse me,” the woman said meekly, her voice quiet in comparison to Rose’s challenging authority. “I was wondering if Jenny was alright? We haven’t heard from her in weeks. Is she okay? Is it possible to see her?”

“Where’s Mommy?” Daniel asked, innocent and oblivious to the world. Rose continued to smile.

“I can arrange you to see her,” she suggested. “Only two of you, though. The others do not take so kindly to strangers. I can allow you and the little one access to see her.” She reached for a walkie-talkie burrowed in her pockets, “Nevis, please come out to the barn. The little one and his friend request to see the patient in Room 16. Show them the way.”

At that, Namjoon came out, shielding the sun from his eyes. “She’s okay?”

“Barely,” Rose nodded. She seemed to not care for Namjoon, and turned back to Taehyung suddenly: “forgive me for seeming so...brash, but I must ask if you have any weapons. It’s against the rules.”

You fought all urge to give away Taehyung’s pistol tucked in the back of his jeans. If she knew that there was a weapon there, she didn’t show it. Taehyung shook his head and folded his arms.

“Nothing,” he lied smoothly. “We ran out of ammo before we got here, and when Y/N fell, I couldn’t carry everything. I dropped most of the stuff along the way. The guards took the bat and the rifle. I have nothing else.”

Rose hummed quietly. “Very well.” Nevis joined her side, the same man as before. He had removed his mask, revealing a gruesome scar across his cheek, a hollowness under his cheekbones. He remained emotionless as Rose showed him Daniel and the woman, and without question, he led them towards the building.

Watching as Rose followed, the group left behind at the barn remained quiet in return. The group went back inside, and Namjoon joined by your side as the shutter to the building closed with privacy, separating the barn and the rest of the camp entirely. It seemed to be quieter, then, without the whir of machinery and occasional scream, which you guessed was either from outside the camp or the cannibalistic lair you were putting money on existing.

“I know you have a gun at the back of your jeans,” Namjoon said simply, looking at neither you or Taehyung but straight ahead. “Let’s hope nobody finds it.”

Taehyung gulped. “Yeah.”

Namjoon looked over then, and it felt weird not seeing a smile on his face. For the first time since you had met him, he looked serious.

“I won’t say anything,” he said honestly. “And if it’s any consolation- I don’t trust them either. I just do and say what I have to to make it easier to stay.”

NEXT CHAPTER.

#omg new characters thats fit #ktaenet #btsguild #bts #bangtan #bts scenarios #bts imagine #taehyung #taehyung x reader #taehyung imagine #kim taehyung #kth #taehyung smut #bts au #zombie apocalypse au #bts zombie apocalypse #bts v #tlou #gwoongi

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okaybutlikeimagine · 5 years ago

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so i wanna write more headcanons on here but to do that i feel like i need to actually explain my main headcanon about Stranger Things/Billy in general??? and i’m trying to write a fic (and i S W E A R i’m gonna finish it at some point/better finish it this summer or it’s never getting done i just am a Mess TM so bear with me here bc i have 3 WIPs right now) but I’m gonna give a run down of the main points bc otherwise I end up just saying “Billy got adopted by Hop” and I feel like that’s a major step so maybe I need to explain my thought process there. so my fic plan is gonna be going through Stranger Things S2 focusing on Billy (I know, how Original, right?? I’m rolling my eyes at myself but I’m excited to think about the thought process of our Crazy boy) but i’ll just go through the major stuff (mainly with him and Hopper)

((this is so damn long good god i’m so sorry))

so Billy is the local Menace and Hopper briefly hears about him from Officer Callahan, knows a new family just moved in from Cali, but the first time he sees him is when he pulls the boy over (with a bit of difficulty because how the hell is this boy going so fast??) and he’s pissed. Bc kids still run around this town like it’s nothing and how is he ever going to be comfortable letting El run around this town with this maniac here? so he intimidates the boy and enjoys it until he sees a bruise on his cheekbone and legitimate fear in his eyes and it gives him pause. bc Billy just got back from a beyond rough night with Neil who showed even less mercy than normal and told him to find another place to sleep tonight.

Hop catches on that something’s wrong. he doesn’t feel good about kicking a boy this broken into the drunk tank (even though the only reason Billy stopped for Hop was bc he felt sitting in the drunk tank might be better than sitting in his car through the cold night). Hop sees a bit of himself in the boy, back when he was young and stupid and fighting back an angry, drunken father. So he asks Billy who he can call to get him home safely, bc no fucking way is he letting him drive his car anywhere when he’s drunk. and when Billy comes up short, Hop curses and makes a split decision to bring him home. bc it’s way too late and the boy has school tomorrow and he sees Billy in obvious pain. and it’s not like Hopper is totally unaware. word gets around fast in a small town filled with gossipy elders. he already knows enough about Neil to know that he has some anger issues and he knows exactly what anger issues mean for a kid like this. so he thinks he’s going to regret it, but he convinces Billy to come over and crash on their couch. (and you best he’s immediately thinking of getting a CT scan tomorrow bc how many kids is he planning on adopting?? this man favors solitude over just about anything and now he’s bringing ANOTHER abused child into his home?? and he’s thinking about how hard he’ll have to threaten Billy to not say anything about El)

Billy puts up a fight, but gives in bc fuck it’s been a long night and he thinks being under a drafty cabin roof might be better than sleeping in his car, maybe. he meets El, who’s super strange (and billy isn’t well versed in the actions of 13 yr old girls but El doesn’t seem super normal to him). Hopper tries to keep their interactions as short as possible. and in the morning, when Hopper drives Billy to his house, he refuses to let the boy go in there alone. He walks Billy up to the door, explains away Billy’s absence, and sizes Neil up in his own living room as Billy gets ready for school so Hop can drop him off. Billy finds the care stifling and alien and so unnecessary, but something about Neil shaking in his shoes makes Billy cackle inside.

and back in Cali, Billy used to avoid cops like the plague, but now in Hawkins he goes speeding through the streets on nights that Neil tells him to leave just so he can get picked up and taken to Hopper’s cabin. sometimes on nights where Neil doesn’t, and he feels psychotic doing it. Billy gets to know El a lot better, and he wonders why Hopper had to threaten him so aggressively about not telling a single soul about this girl that he claims to be his daughter. She’s caring to Billy in a really weird way, giving him glasses of water and extra blankets after Hopper has gone to bed and Billy is cowering on the couch trying to go to sleep. One night Billy wakes to her screaming and crying and sees Hopper rush into her room and hears him lull her back to sleep. He asks her about it in the morning while Hop is showering and she mumbles something into her Eggos about Papa and pain and bad men. he asks her to speak up a bit, trying not to take his growing anger out on her, and she explains that Papa is a bad man who hurt her too much. Billy thinks he understands. He definitely doesn’t.

So he follows Hopper outside as they head out and swings at him. immediately swings at him bc all he can see is red bc here he thought a grown man could be something other than an absolute trash bag but here’s this man proving Billy a fool bc he hurts that poor sweet girl. he misses, and Hopper gets furious, immediately yelling, asking the boy what he’s doing. the two argue loudly, and Hopper tells Billy that he put them all in danger just for bringing him here, so Billy gets pissed as fuck and doesn’t come back.

and this entire time Billy’s trying to lay low at school about being gay. it’s nowhere near as lenient as Cali was and he can’t exactly show off his boner for Steve “the King” Harrington. so when Billy gets forced on an expedition to find his precious step-sister, he figures following a crazy as fuck noise seems like the best idea, esp after being told to go to the house of basically every child in Hawkins. hey, if he’s lucky, maybe it’ll be a hungry bear or something. but instead he finds a gross junkyard and what looks like his kid sister on top of a bus with that Sinclair kid, so he drives up fast, seeing red. it’s not until he’s out of the car that he sees King Steve himself barrelling towards Billy and dragging him behind the bus and handing him a piece of sheet metal and telling him to make do.

naturally Billy flips his shit, confused as hell and asking what that loud noise is, but Steve prompts him, telling him he knows he has something to be mad about bc he’s not exactly meditating on the basketball court so maybe he can channel the source of that anger to “maybe, I dunno, help us?”

So they fight. and when the demodogs get called off, Billy demands a fucking explanation, getting pissed as all hell at Steve for letting his sister and her punk friends be here when it’s obviously infected with some crazy as fuck monsters?? “and what the shit is a demodog??” but they force a dazed Billy into the car and ask him to drive them in the direction of the noise, to which Billy says they’re nuts but it’s 4 against 1 and his mind is racing and he’s just angrily compliant at this point, speeding towards the sounds that they try to hear through the open windows. so billy gets dragged through it all, and learns about it all, and when they get to Will’s house he thinks he’s going to be sick and it’s Steve who helps him through it, awkwardly rubbing his back as he dry heaves in the bathroom bc “fuck this, seriously fuck this, you’re all nuts!”

Hopper briefly asks if he’s all right when Billy goes back into the living room obviously shaken. He accepts El’s hug when she comes in dressed up like a crazy punk and everyone is confused as hell as to how they know each other, esp Steve, who has never seen this girl in his life. Billy compliments her look, tells her she’s “looking rad”.

“Bitchin’.”

“Oh, excuse me. Bitchin’.”

He tells Hop and El to be safe, and he feels stupid about it but it earns him another hug from El and a nod and a small smile from Hop and he doesn’t like that it makes him feel so warm.

he tags along with Steve when they go into the upside down, making sure the kids are safe and bringing up the rear as Steve trudges ahead of them. He’s confused as fuck when Dustin talks to one of those things like it has a fucking heart. thinks maybe he can consider it some kind of metaphor of how even monsters can be friends sometimes.

when it’s all over, he’s damn glad and damn happy and feels damn lucky to be alive. he feels a weird gratefulness at having his sister alive and starts thinking of her as his sister. he hugs her and smacks her shoulder lightly and tells her to never go running off to fight monsters again if she knows what’s good for her, “especially not with prissy little Princess Harrington”. She just gives him an exasperated laugh and a roll of her eyes and he winks at a blushing and pouting Steve.

the abuse doesn’t stop. he’s out driving drunkenly again when Hop pulls him over. Hopper talks to him, explains himself a bit, with light irritation. Billy feels indignant, says he’ll just sleep in his damn car for the night, thanks, but Hop doesn’t allow it. He asks Billy to at least come to the cabin to see El, bc she keeps asking after him and his well being. and when things get worse, and Billy hashes out his shit with Hopper pretty hot headedly, he goes over to the cabin more and more, a brief and small and very young part of his mind wondering if Hopper would lull him to sleep too when he wakes up screaming from nightmares.

He gets closer to Max now that he almost lost her. he drives her to the arcade or Lucas’ place a lot more bc he sees that Sinclair is a good (enough) kid and he kind of wants to protect the little punk from his racist asshole of a father. now that he knows the boy isn’t making her cry anymore he feels a hell of a lot better about it. but his relationship with Neil is only getting worse and he doesn’t know it but when the Snow Ball comes around and he sees Max getting fawned over by her mother and he thinks about his own mother (bc tell me that boy’s expression isn’t sad when he sees her in that scene) it’s the last time he sees Max in a home that they share. That night Neil drunkenly shouts homophobic slurs at him and Billy’s done with it He can’t take it. Hopper has been telling him for a month now to just file a report, he’s sure he has enough evidence to catch Neil on an abuse charge, and so he finally does.

Hopper promises to fight for his custody, so that he has a safe roof to live under at least until he turns 18. Hopper cashes in on a favor with the judge bc somehow and for some fucking reason he says there isn’t enough substantial evidence to say anything + people are confused as to why it’s Hopper asking for custody of Billy. So Neil stays living with his wife and Max and gives away custody of Billy pretty angrily but not out of any love of him. (and is it realistic for this to happen?? i’m not sure about it but either way, i melt over Hopper adopting Billy and being brought into a family with Hop and El and Joyce and Jonathan and Will. and no matter what happens with Neil, i just can’t see Max leaving her mom. i think she would cling to any blood relation she has bc yeah, she has friends now, but her mother is her mother) Billy still drives Max to school every day and he makes her promise him she’ll tell him if anything bad ever happens bc “Hey, I have a pretty decent in with the Chief of Police now, alright shithead? You need anything done, I’ve got you.”

so now think of the POSSIBILITIES!! Billy and El as brother and sister, bickering and messing around with each other and Billy showing her new music much to Hop’s dismay but he likes that El has company! Joyce and Hop getting together and Joyce becoming a good mother to him bc lets face it, Joyce would mother the world if she could!! Him finally getting to be with Steve and not being called homophobic slurs and getting closer and closer to Steve as they become boyfriends and dads to the children!!!! the possibilities are endless for Billy Hargrove/Hopper!!!!!!!

(jury’s still out on how to fit S3 in here and how much of canon i want to put into this headcanon but imagine Billy having people in his corner after he’s been possessed and they notice a lot quicker when he gets possessed so they help him faster!!)(or he can just be at home playing board games with El on the night that he was supposed to get possessed and he’s able to be a supportive and sassy figure for El and the kids bc babysitter Steve was off trying to fight russians.)(!!! imagine concerned Billy wondering where the fuck Steve is and getting jealous that he’s out with a girl and Steve is like: “I was literally inches away from death and you’re STILL being a jealous bitch, are you serious????”)

ANYWAY this was so long and a bit unnecessary but this is the gist of what I think and when I write headcanons I’m talking about a universe where all of this took place (unless otherwise specified). Sorry for this mess, but it was good for me to write this out and if anyone is interested in my dumb ideas of how Billy’s story could have gone differently, here’s a preview of whatever dumpster fire of a fic i put out eventually. + you can always talk to me here, i’m open to excitedly yell with you ♥

#billy hargrove #a little bit of #harringrove #just a tad in this #it's all precursor for harringrove #stranger things fix it #billy hargrove fix it #stranger things headcanon #stranger things 3 fix it #stranger things hc #headcanon #stranger things au #????#kinda sorta???#i dunno pls dont hurt me #i'm doin my best over here #just falling over myself in love with this baby boy who deserved better than he got #we deserved to see parenting duo Joyce and Hopper take care of Billy the way he deserves #and Billy and El being siblings #we fucking deserved it #this is angsty #trust me i wrote out more for this post and cut it out bc i was being too angsty for what i said i was gonna do #i just wanted to write out the main points #but still here i am trying to flesh him out even when i was just trying to be succint #anyway #i'm trying over here #keep this in mind for my other hcs i post on here #btw you all are so lovely and i cry at your sweet support #<3 #it's so so sweet i love the harringrove section of the fandom

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angelaiswriting · 6 years ago

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The Assistant (5 of ?) | Vladimir Ranskahov x reader

[original picture: pinterest]

✏️ Pairings:

(eventual) Vladimir Ranskahov x fem!reader

Anatoly Ranskahov x OC (Paulina)

probably other pairings in the future

✏️ Requested by @kellydixon01 : Y/N–hacker, big mouth, even bigger attitude–is the new addition to Fisk’s team. Sent to help the Ranskahovs, she immediately gets on Vladimir’s nerves. But as time passes, they start to take a liking to each other, even if none of them is willing to admit their feelings. Yet.

✏️ A/N: for once I have nothing to say haha hopefully not a bad chapter, but I’m glad I managed to write after these days of hell. (Hopefully there aren’t too many mistakes)

✏️ A/N 2: jk I have stuff to say. Any ‘hacking scene’ from now on is just based on my imagination, I don’t have the strenght (psychological or physical) to search realistic things now, it’s a rough period + I used google to research one Hungarian name (Miklos) and one Hungarian surname (Dobos) so I hope they’re not wrong; in that case, I’m sorry. Why Hungarian mob? I don’t know, but I did a project on Hungary in middle school and I remember I liked it. Is there anything like Hungarian mob? I don’t know, but for the sake of this chapter I hope so haha Why not Italian? Bc I’m Italian and it’s often Italian mob in fics and movies and it’s tiring after a bit, so... HAHA #sorrynotsorry #letschangeitupalil

✏️ Warnings: mention of murder and that’s probably it

✏️ Word-count: 2,870

📚 To read the previous chapters, click on the MASTERLIST link in my bio (unfortunately I can’t put links here if I want my post to come up in search results. I apologize.)

CHAPTER FIVE: MIKLOS DOBOS

Vladimir had never been this close to Y/N. Stuffed on the back seat of the car with her between him and his brother, he was seething.

Her shoulder pressed against his and his knee bumped against hers every time Aslan drove over a hole in the asphalt, almost as though he was doing it on purpose. He didn’t know if the buzzing feeling in his brain was due to such close proximity on her part or simply because he was still pissed by the fact that Tolya had allowed her–had insisted and bugged him all day for her–to come with them. It was probably a combination of both, but Volodya didn’t exactly care. As long as he didn’t have to drive her home, he was good.

Or, at least, he was good as long as he kept his distance from his own apartment. He had known right from the start that the chances of Y/N having dipped into the privacy of his life were pretty high, but he had never considered, in the days he had spent trying to work with her–keyword: trying–that she would do something like moving in next door.

If this wasn’t the sign he had been waiting for–consciously or not–, the proof of her spying on him and his brother and his business in general, he truly didn’t know what else could be. She hadn’t stopped working for Fisk just as she had never started to work for him, he reasoned now.

Now more than ever he wished he had someone to cover his back or to stop his finger from pulling the trigger of his gun because he didn’t want to disappoint his brother by killing that woman.

Her presence in the apartment in front of his–and next to him now, for that matter–had the same shocking effect of dipping naked in ice-cold water. And he had done that–and on many an occasion–but he had never been forced to and it had never been a surprise.

This, however, was a lot more than his already feeble patience could take.

And to ask him–to force him–to take Y/N along to go ransom the last part of the payment before the shipment got–well–shipped was like asking him to suddenly turn into a saint when he wasn’t even a good person, to begin with.

“Did we really have to-”

“Don’t start now,” Tolik cut him off, slightly turning his head in his brother’s direction to warn him that his patience was running thin.

They had both used Russian–Vladimir because he didn’t give a fuck, Anatoly because he did give a fuck and the last thing he wanted was to risk insulting her and end up on the first page of a hacker’s black book.

No one spoke again after that, at least not before Aslan reached the location Y/N had chosen and turned off the engine.

“They’re not here yet,” Sergei pointed out, sticking his head out of the window to check the area. “What do we do now?”

“Now we wait.” Y/N’s back was relaxed against the leather seat of the SUV as she opened up the laptop she had on her knees and switched it on.

Her calmness was irritating: it made Vladimir’s skin itch and his brain pound like a military march in the confinements of his skull. He truly didn’t know what it was about her that had that effect on him and made that sort of primal instinct resurface, but here he was and he was definitely not happy.

Who did she think she was to know what to do better than him or his brother? To claim the right to choose what was good and what was wrong in his business? To stomp into his office and demand he follow her orders? Like some dog?

And now here they were, at the pier, the Hudson river peacefully flowing in front of them. The gentle night breeze breathed in through the open front window, caressing their cheeks with its cool tendrils, and it carried the sound of honks being pressed on in the early night traffic. And still, the Hungarians were nowhere to be seen.

Vladimir already didn’t like them–and it wasn’t because the mudaki were late, for it wasn’t that late when he checked his watch. He hated them because they always tried to trick him, because there was this one Hungarian dick at the fights that seemed to have taken it upon himself to piss the shit out of Vladimir. He wasn’t part of the mob, of course, he was just some twenty-four bitch that had fun beating the blood out of people’s noses, but it was such a minuscule detail that Vlad didn’t care.

And if this was going to turn out to be the debacle of Dobos’ irritating organization, then so be it. Vladimir Ranskahov was just waiting for the right time to lower the saber on the dick’s neck and watch his pitiful society die like a rat in a trap.

What pissed him off even more was, again, Y/N’s presence not just in the car, but at the meeting. There was no way he was going to let a newbie take part to it, and it wasn’t just because she hacked things for someone else–or, well, maybe yeah, maybe that was part of the reason behind his annoyance.

The biggest issue was Miklos Dobos’ attitude towards newbie–or people in general, for that matter. He didn’t trust them, and even when–and if–they won his trust, he still continued on with his doubts and he’d do anything in his power to protect himself as best as he could. And this usually translated into stricter controls and suspects–and greater irritation on the part of the people that had to deal with him.

Which, in this case, translated into the figure of Vladimir Ranskahov. And he was anything but happy.

Vlad had his own problems with newbies, too–he didn’t know about Tolya, but he sure as hell did have problems with newbies. And from this point of view, he wasn’t even that different from Dobos. He only worked with people he trusted, who had crimes behind their backs that he respected, and who respected him. Y/N didn’t have his trust nor his respect–yet, for he wanted to hope that one day he would be able to at least stand her.

Newbies could very well be time bombs in situations like the one they were all going to live. They could get scared at anything, or blurt out something they should have never told, or do crap in general and blow everything up. It was a fragile world, the underworld. It sure had a tough face, but the body was of fine crystal and anything could shatter it. Alliances were never forever–it didn’t matter how hard Wesley was fucking himself with that idea, even the whole Gao-Fisk-Ranskahovy affiliation was going to go to shit one day–and literally anything could undermine a thriving organization. Newbies were that threat: they could inadvertently blow a whole world up if they hadn’t been delivered the right education.

This was exactly why Vladimir and Anatoly Ranskahov refused to hire anyone who hadn’t served their time in jail–be it in Russia or America or anywhere else on the globe, it didn’t really matter, not as much as the committed crime did. And hacking into people’s lives and businesses didn’t exactly count as a crime in the brothers’ eyes. It was something anyone could do–at varying degrees, of course. They might not have been able to hack into someone’s bank account, but they still knew their ways and had their informants–or they could just use a gun and get it over with it.

Yet, this girl was probably going to prove herself to be one of his nightmares.

Vladimir was sure she hadn’t even seen a corpse before. Sure, she might have seen Granny or Gramps in their coffin, dead people on the news or on newspapers, but she had never been mere inches from someone who had just been shot in the head, nor had she ever had someone else’s blood splatter on her face or on her clothes.

She was a fucking time bomb, ticking their last seconds away, and Vlad couldn’t understand how Anatoly couldn’t see it.

It was Anatoly’s idea to let her come–maybe she had bugged him too, but Tolik had had the last word on the matter. It was Anatoly’s idea that they accept her presence just because some fat dick wanted so. And if they were going to go down in a bloodbath, it was going to be Anatoly’s idea and Vladimir was going to have the right excuse to kick his brother’s ass all the way into the afterlife.

“What are you doing?” She had stuck something into her laptop and may he be damned if he wasn’t going to find out what that was. He was no tech-genius, and at the same time, he was no stupid.

“Blocking phone signal,” she shrugged, sparing him a glance before going back to work. “I’m going to knock out their chances of calling anyone, but your phones won’t be immune, either. So I guess this is the time I understand whether I can trust you or not.”

Vladimir scoffed. “What about you?”

“Told you on day one.” She turned towards him this time and one of her hand ran to partially lower the monitor of her laptop. “I’m not here to spy. I’m here to help you. You are one stubborn dick, aren’t you?”

“And you are sneaky bitch. You still have not proved my suspicions wrong.”

But another car had parked on the other side of the open space, a grey Mercedes whose shiny surface reflected the light of the lampposts nearby. They stared as Dobos’ driver got out of the car and only then did Aslan and Sergei follow his example.

“Stay down and try not to get seen,” Anatoly ordered her, fixing the holster of his gun underneath the jacket of his suit.

“This would have been easier if you hadn’t let her come,” Vladimir commented in Russian and as he exited the car, he missed Y/N’s smirk at his words.

But she did as she was told: she crouched down behind the driver’s seat, laptop resting where Vladimir had been sat just seconds before and prayed with all her might to get out of that meeting alive and undiscovered.

Vladimir was praying, too, and he truly couldn’t fathom how his brother could be so calm and composed when they were basically violating the accords they had with the Hungarians.

Dobos got out of his car only when the Ranskahovs had reached their driver and Sergei. He was an imposing man: tall, big, with broad shoulders and a shiny bald head that shone brighter than the recently-washed roof of his own car.

He was a chicken, though, and the Ranskahovs knew that, and that was why he was flanked on either side by two other men, big but not as big as he was, with scarred faces and tattooed necks.

What irked Vladimir was the fact that those two bodyguards were new, they weren’t the ones Miklos Dobos usually used when they had to meet. He had never seen them, hadn’t been informed of that change and he did not like that. Not one bit.

“New men I see,” he groaned, pointing at the people in question with a nod of his head.

Dobos smirked and the fingers of his right hand rose to touch the crucifix that hung from his necklace. “Others have gone meet God.” He stopped two feet behind his driver and a fourth man got out of the front seat of the grey car, opened the trunk and grabbed two black bags. “Did you ship shipment?”

“We ship when meeting is over,” Anatoly pointed out. Dobos’ question ringed suspicious to his ears, for he had never asked such dumb things, but he didn’t think about it, not immediately at least. “You know that. It’s how we work, or have you forgotten?”

Dobos grimaced and threw a glance at the man on his left, a quick glance that Vladimir didn’t like. The Hungarian’s behavior was starting to smell fishy. “Three hundred grands,” he said and the man that had joined the party last let the bags fall to the ground in the no man’s land that separated the two parties. “Like accord.”

Sergei had already taken a step forward when Vladimir stopped him with a hand on the shoulder. “We check it first,” he declared and he himself walked to the bags, picked them up and then retreated, not turning his back to the Hungarians in front of him.

And stinking it was: Miklos Dobos gritted his teeth, his hand reaching the crucifix once again, but after a second of tension, he let out a soft sigh. “Why would we cheat you, Ranskahov? We have always paid.”

True, but they had never ordered such a big shipment and they had never had to pay such big money.

“New policies,” Vlad grinned. He took a step back and when Dobos’ men moved their hands over their guns, he spoke again. “I’m going to count money on hood of our car.”

It was going to be a slow count, every present was sure of that, but no one protested–not even Dobos, too intent in praying God Vladimir would be quick and superficial in his counting.

Vlad dropped the bags on the hood, still grinning in the direction of the other men, and as he turned, he briefly met Y/N’s questioning gaze as she stared at him from between the front seats behind which she was hiding. You better start praying too, girl, he thought, for he was sure the meeting was going to end in blood.

He unzipped the first bag slowly, almost begging he was just being paranoid and took out the first wad of bills. He counted them, touched them, almost sniffed them, but the green money was real. As were the bills in the second, third and fourth wads. He couldn’t say the same about those in the fifth: the first and last bills of the wad didn’t seem weird, but the ones in the middle didn’t seem to flow like the ones he had handled until now.

Brows furrowed, he refrained himself from turning towards Tolik or from seizing his gun. It could very well be his paranoia playing tricks on him. There was no reason why the Hungarians, weak as they were, would trick them. They had always paid on time and with nice money–maybe less than tonight, but that didn’t matter. And sure, their society was on the rise these days, but it didn’t mean anything.

His hands still ripped the band keeping the wad together and he stared at them as if those tattooed fingers belonged to someone else.

He was so not in the mood for blood or killing, tonight. He just wanted to stop to buy a pizza, go home and watch the boxing match on TV, drink more vodka than his stomach and liver could stand and smoke a well-deserved cigarette in the quietness of his apartment. It didn’t matter that he had Y/N living just next door, he was going to enjoy the rest he worked so hard for.

But Dobos thought he could play him. Thought he could trick someone who had been tricked by life in worse ways. Thought he could trick who now considered himself untrickable–though he was, and that fucking cheap mob boss proved that he could, indeed, be played like a whore.

The bills in the fifth wad had been counterfeited.

His fingers twitched, his tattooed rings burned and as his gaze met Y/N’s once again, he felt the blood in his brain reach boiling point.

“Everything alright?” came Dobos’ voice and at that moment it did sound like a dead’s voice.

“Da,” he yelled back, but he was still staring at the girl in his car and he wished she could do something, let Tolya or Aslan or Seriozha know they had to open fire on those motherfuckers. He snapped the bands of the wads he had checked open, piled the bills in a neat stack and grabbed both them and the bags before going back to the others. “But I have question,” he continued as the bags fell to the ground with a dull thud. His left hand knocked twice on his left thigh and as his own men and Tolik were staring at him, he knew they had caught the message. “What, exactly, made you think you could play us?”

In a heartbeat, the bills he had had in his right hand were flying through the air, momentarily blinding Dobos and his men, while the Ranskahovs and their own men fired.

The deafening sound of shots seemed to roll down the street lights, tumbling over Dobos’ Mercedes before, a heartbeat later, shell casings jingled on the wet asphalt.

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