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andimoon · 1 year

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can i get 9 with baekhyun please? thanks so much!!!

Hello, lovely Anon! Since the vibe wasn’t specified, I decided to try something melancholic for this one! Thank you for your request! I had fun writing this one!! I hope you enjoy! 😁

Word count: 2.4K

Warnings: TW: mentions of a toxic relationship, dangerous love.

Baekhyun X Reader

Neighbors AU

Melancholic Angst

9. “I’m not wasting my time on this.”

It felt weird to be single again. Your last relationship ended a few months ago and the odd solidarity was difficult to get used to, but it was so nice to get away from the piece of shit that was your last partner. It was never mutual, at best you were a glorified servant to that person and over time your resentment built for them until one day you just snapped. And it was ugly.

The tears, the screaming, the pushing them out of your home, throwing their belongings at them and slamming the door in their face. The entire neighborhood heard your break up and it was fucking bliss. Finally you were free of the shackles you had for years. But now, months later, you didn’t know what to do with yourself. Sure, you had work, but for so long you weren’t allowed hobbies or interests, and it was scary to get back into the dating scene. You ran the risk of meeting someone similar and you would much rather be single than go through that again.

After the anger subsided came longing. The desire to have someone love you and hold you the way you had always craved. This was always how your cycle of reminiscing started; pain, anger, longing, memories, and the craving of things returning to the way they were in your childhood. The sweet memories of running through the school halls with your friends, gossiping and talking about the hottest students, the way you were so certain you’d marry one of them and the awkward flirting that came with that certainty. Everything was so simple back then. You wished you had enjoyed more of that time.

Your days were mondain as they passed and eventually the stuffling apartment was too much to handle and you agreed to an evening out with your best friends. You listened to the music you weren’t previously allowed to, yelling the lyrics at the top of your lungs into the shampoo bottle as you got ready, your own private rebellion and it felt liberating. This night was about you taking back everything. This night was entirely about you, and you would not let anything get in your way. You wore the clothes you weren’t allowed to wear, ecstatic that the dusty pink cocktail dress still fit. The weight you’d gained over the years filled out the fabric in such a flattering way you were surprised. It looked good, which meant you were going all out. Makeup, heels, even your most expensive purse. All things you hadn’t used in years, and you felt like a celebrity. The confidence that exuded off you was like nothing you’ve ever felt.

You listened to the click of your heels, smiling in satisfaction as you pushed the button to the elevator and waited. The buzz in your hands read a small message from your friends, they were on their way to the club and would meet you shortly. It felt so nice to finally be leaving your house. Not only that, but looking like the goddess you knew you were.

You heard steps behind you and the quiet click of a door opening. With curiosity you turn to see your neighbor standing just outside his apartment, openly gawking at you with a large garbage bag in hand. Baekhyun had been your neighbor since you moved into that home. Long before you got into a relationship, and your friendship with the man was an odd one. He was often busy and didn’t leave his home outside of work. Yet on the holiday’s you’d been left alone he’d come celebrate with you. He’d smell your cooking and ask if you could trade ingredients. He’d spend hours at your house just talking and watching shows with you. At first you thought he liked you, even asked him about it one Christmas Eve.

“I think we’re both lonely,” was his response, “Lonely people have to stick together, right?”

You guessed that was that. Over time he became one of your closest neighbors, but he was out of town during your breakup. He must’ve just returned. You couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction. You knew you looked hot, but having that extra confirmation burned into your chest, already feeling drunk off the power you felt, “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” The elevator dinged with life and the doors parted for you, shuffled footsteps stepped in with you.

“Damn, girl. He’s finally taking you out?” He was still admiring you and you refused to look, keeping your eyes forward as you fiddled with your purse. The bag smelled awful, how long had he waited to throw that away? You hoped it hadn’t been sitting in his apartment for the six months he’d been away.

You knew this topic would come up with Baekhyun at some point, so you normalized talking about it. Telling yourself in the mirror and as you did your laundry, reciting the words between emails at work and the words flowed naturally, “We broke up three months ago.” Still your throat tightened and you inhaled a breath. Your makeup was expensive and took two hours to get perfectly. There was no way you were going to cry over your years of lost time so you needed to move on quickly, “My girls are taking me out tonight so I’m gonna enjoy myself.” The silence was uncomfortable. You suddenly wished you had taken the stairs. Why was he so quiet? Sneaking a glance, you saw his face serious, eyes glued to you but he didn’t seem present. “Baek?” He blinked and cleared his throat, gently scratching at his temple.

“Sorry,” another soft cough, “That’s great. Guy was a piece of shit anyway. You look amazing.” He tried to hide it but you could hear the stiffness in his voice. You didn’t want to think about it, tonight was your night and you didn’t want to get caught up worrying about Baekhyun and the nasty trash bag he had been so inconsiderate enough to bring into that enclosed space with you. Not tonight. The doors opened into the quiet lobby and you stepped out, desperately needing the fresh air.

“Thanks!” You flashed him a smile, “I’ll see you later, then! Have a good night.” Something about the look on his face and the stiffness in his voice lingered in your mind as you made it outside of the complex, hailing a taxi and setting into the empty backseat all on auto drive. Why did he act like that? You told the driver where to go. He didn’t like you like that, right? Then why? ‘Lonely people have to stick together, right?’ Maybe he thought you were looking for another partner? Thoughts took up the entire ride, only when you heard the older man calling for you did you return to reality. Tonight was your night. Nothing would get in your way. All you needed were a few drinks to loosen up and maybe if you were lucky you could find a lover for the night. You had needs, after all.

Luckily your friends helped you skip the line and enter quickly, a table filled with drinks and snacks for the small group to thrive for hours. Erratic lights danced over the entire club and you could feel the buzz of music and voices against every bone in your body. How many drinks did you have? You’d lost count by the end of the night. It was well past midnight and your friends decided enough was enough. You all went your separate ways and the ride in the Uber was comfortable but the constant shaking made you slightly nauseous. How much further was it? Your head felt heavy on your neck. It was suddenly hard to hold it up and your back caved under the weight, flopping you to the side of the back seat. It was so comfortable you could almost fall asleep.

Fall asleep? In a stranger's car? You knew better than that and your determination to survive the night pulled your back. Your mother would praise you for being such a smart child in this situation and that brought a smile to your face. Someone called your name. “Mom?” With a glance to the side and you see your neighbor. He opened the Uber’s door, helping you out of the car. Even in sweatpants and a t-shirt he was handsome. White and black hair ducked into the car to get your bag. How sweet, he knew how expensive it was. How could you forget such an important thing?

Suddenly his brown eyes touched yours and he was coming closer, you groaned at the icy hands that held your shoulders. Your toes felt hot and stung as he led you back a few steps before pushing you down into a nearby bench. He dropped to his knees and started undoing the straps of your heels, your foot was bleeding on the side. It must’ve been a blister. It had been so long since you wore heels that you just assumed pain like that was normal. It hurt and it made you slightly sober up.

Brown eyes returned to yours after he removed your shoes. Baekhyun looked tired, his eyes slightly sunken in, and he was skinnier than before he left. His cheeks were less full and it made you kind of sad to see, you couldn’t help reaching out to touch his soft skin. You stayed like that for a moment before his fingers wrapped around your wrist and gently lowered it. “Can you walk? We have to get that cleaned up.” He looked around and said, "I don't want to leave you alone out here.” He cared about you. That fact wrapped itself around your heart and your eyes stung, your vision got blurry and you cried. For the first time in months you cried. Maybe you had too much to drink, usually you’d be mortified to shed a tear even in front of your friends.

Suddenly against something warm and solid and lifted up, you were on his back and Baekhyun brought you to his apartment. His warmth, his comfort, he smelled so good. You almost complained when he left you on his couch and disappeared somewhere into the apartment. His house was simply designed, lined with beautiful nudes and wood, and the couch felt soft under your touch. The colorful pillows made you happy to see them. You’d only been here a handful of times but it was always cozy to you. Your foot was aching distantly and you tried to ignore it. Maybe you’d been hurting longer than you realized.

Baekhyun came back with a small first aid kit and tossed a throw blanket in your lap before kneeling in front of you once more. “I was worried. You were out for so long.” His touch was so gentle as he cleaned your wound, so soft against your ankle, and the small pout on his lips as he focused. The way his eyes narrowed in as if he couldn’t afford to make a single mistake. Baek often dyed his hair for work but the white with black tips really looked good on him.

“You’re handsome.” The words came out before you could think about it and he instantly cracked a smile.

“I know.” He teased and finished wrapping up your foot, pushing himself up to sit next to you on the couch. That’s right, he didn’t think much of a compliment from you. You were just his neighbor after all. A neighbor he pitied and thought needed his help. “So,” he started after a moment. “You guys broke up? About time. I’m happy for you.” You hated the return to topic, all that drinking had gone to waste if you were going to continue to think about this. “Guess that means I can make a move now, huh?” That same teasing tone he always used was starting to irritate you. How could he say something like that so easily just to tease you?

You stood and gathered your things, suddenly much more sober than when you arrived. “I’m not wasting my time on this.” Now wasn’t the time to get involved with someone you knew wasn’t interested. “You don’t like me like that.” You weren’t used to that kind of honestly and after the words left your lips you felt a resounding feeling of dread. Those words felt forbidden, only to be kept in your mind but now he knew that you thought about that moment. You needed to get out of there. Now. Without looking at him, you beelined for the door.

“Who said that?” His soft tone made you stop, but he still hadn’t moved from the couch, clicking the little plastic box closed before he returned his eyes to yours.

“Lonely people stick together.” The words haunted behind your eyes and you repeated them to him. The way his teeth pulled at his lower lip was enticing.

“You were in a relationship,” he said, taking a few steps closer to you, but leaving enough space that you were free to leave whenever you wanted. “What else was I supposed to say? ‘Yes, I’ve been in love with you for years?’” You didn’t know if this was a joke to him, but he looked serious as far as you could tell. His words echoed in your ears. He’d been in love with you for years? What if this was all a cruel trick? But Baekhyun had never been cruel to you before.

Those chocolate eyes stared at you, that comfortable little smile on his lips, he was serious. “I don’t mind waiting. It’s a lot to ask all things considered. So let’s do things at your pace,” he slid his hands into his pockets, still allowing the safety gap between you, “I won’t waste your time. You deserve to be treated right, and I want to be that for you.” He hummed softly, “But I just want you to live your life happily. That doesn’t need to be with me. Just think about it?”

He was so honest. You could see the way his ears and cheeks flushed in nerves, but it seemed like that had been something he’d been thinking about for a while. It filled your stomach with butterflies and your heart was racing in your chest. “Okay.” Maybe you could learn to love again with time. And this time you’d make sure you were treated right.

#exo #baekhyun #kpop #fanfiction #baekhyun x you #baekhyun x reader #baekhyun angst #neighbors #dangerous love #writing requests #writing

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katenewmanwrites · 4 months

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Racing Heats - Chapter One

Warnings: Violence, Coercion, Captivity, Psychological Manipulation, Threats, Forced Compliance, Desperation.

The endless crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, casting a warm glow over the intricately patterned marble floors. Gleaming silver platters laden with delicacies and fine wines adorned tables scattered throughout the room, while the aroma of fresh flowers filled the air. In the corner, a grand piano's polished ebony surface reflected flickering candlelight as a live band played soft jazz.

Yet tonight, as I stood on the second-story landing, the opulence felt suffocating, a gilded cage hiding a sense of impending doom. For months, I had been confined to this townhouse, a prisoner in a world of luxury. Patrick had stripped away everything that once mattered to me: my freedom, my friends, my family. Now, he expected my gratitude for these gilded chains.

The silk evening dress, the diamond jewellery, the perfectly styled hair, the expertly applied makeup—every detail had been meticulously chosen to mould me into a part of his world. But as I stood here, gazing out at the opulent room below, the weight of my shackles felt heavier than ever. For months, I had been a prisoner. Tonight, I was to be paraded around like a trophy.

Patrick had insisted on this charade, this pretence that I was his willing date. But I knew the truth. I was nothing more than a pawn in his twisted game of power and control. As I watched him work the room, laughing and joking with the other mobsters, their hands clasped firmly around the necks of their crystal flutes, a chill of fear crept up my spine.

The band had taken a break, leaving a lone violinist to stand in the centre of the room. Her bow danced across the strings, producing a haunting melody that echoed through the house, filling the space between the guests with an eerie sense of longing. It was a stark contrast to the upbeat tempo that had dominated the party thus far, and as I listened, I couldn't help but feel as if the violinist was playing just for me.

Patrick ascended the stairs in rapid strides, his gaze fixed on me with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. The grin that spread across his lips was as chilling as it was possessive. "You look stunning, my dear," he murmured, taking my hand and guiding me down the steps. The violinist's haunting melody seemed to echo through the room, its mournful notes amplifying the suffocating atmosphere.

As we made our way through the crowd, Patrick's grip on my hand tightened, his fingers digging into my skin. It was a silent reminder of his control, of his power over me. I forced a smile, feeling the weight of the diamond necklace around my neck like a noose. The opulent surroundings, the lavish decorations, and the glittering guests blurred into the background as my reality centred on the vice-like hold Patrick had on me.

The violinist's melancholic tune seemed to echo through my very soul, the haunting notes matching the feeling of despair that had taken root within me. I glanced around, searching for any sign of escape, any familiar face that might offer a way out of this twisted charade. But the room was filled with faces I didn't recognize, all of them part of Patrick's world, his father's empire.

As Patrick paraded me through the crowd, my mind raced, desperate for a plan. The opulence that surrounded us felt like a gilded cage, and the guests, with their masked smiles and polished veneers, were the bars that held me captive. Every laugh, every clink of crystal, seemed to mock my entrapment.

We stopped in front of a large group of men who seemed to be arguing heatedly about something. "Ladies and gentlemen," Patrick boomed, clapping his hands to silence them, "may I have your attention, please?" Everyone turned to face us, and for a moment, it felt as if the room had gone eerily quiet. "I want to thank you all for coming tonight." His words hung in the air, heavy with menace. "And to show my appreciation, I'd like to propose a toast."

Patrick raised his glass, and the rest of the room followed suit, clinking their crystal flutes together. He smiled at me, his teeth gleaming in the dim light. "To family," he said, his voice softening just enough to make him seem charming. "To those who are with us tonight, and to those who are not." He took a sip of his drink, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed.

The silence stretched on for what felt like an eternity, and I could feel the weight of every gaze burning into me. The room, filled with the opulence of Patrick's world, seemed to close in around me. The faces, previously animated with conversation and laughter, now turned towards us with an almost predatory curiosity.

"May we always honour those bonds," Patrick continued, his grip on my hand tightening. "And may our enemies know the strength of our unity." His eyes locked onto mine, and I could see the warning in their depths, a reminder of my place in this world.

The guests raised their glasses higher, echoing his words with a unified "To family." As they drank, I forced myself to swallow the bile rising in my throat, maintaining the façade of compliance. The diamond necklace felt heavier, like a chain tethering me to this life I never chose. The haunting melody of the violinist filled the silence once more, a sorrowful accompaniment to the applause that followed Patrick's toast.

As the guests returned to their conversations, Patrick leaned in, his lips brushing my ear. "Remember, my dear," he whispered, "you're part of this family now. And family is everything." His words sent a shiver down my spine, a chilling reminder of the inescapable web I was caught in.

I forced a smile, trying to look confident and unaffected, but inside I was trembling. I glanced around, searching for any sign of escape. I felt like a fish out of water, a prey among predators. How many more nights like this did I have in my future if I couldn't make my escape? This eerie sense of foreboding that had settled over me since the moment I'd been taken, and now it felt as if it was suffocating me.

"Have I performed enough?" I snapped, the words dripping with frustration and thinly veiled anger. Patrick's grip on my arm tightened, and he gave me a cold smile. "Why, my dear, did you think you were done?" he drawled, his tone dripping with menace. "There's still much more for you to do tonight."

My stomach lurched at his words, but I forced myself to maintain a facade of politeness as he led me over to the group of men. They were all older, their eyes hungry as they appraised me like a prize mare, their gazes stripping away any semblance of dignity or autonomy.

I longed to tear off the dress, discard the jewellery, and flee from this suffocating facade. But escape wasn't an option. I was ensnared, trapped in a web of deceit and danger, forced to play my part if I wanted to survive. With each step deeper into the crowd, Patrick's grip on my arm tightened, a silent threat echoing through the pressure. I plastered on a smile, maintaining the facade, all the while trembling inside at the consequences of defiance.

Desperate for a moment of reprieve, I grasp at the only semblance of freedom I can muster. "May I excuse myself to the Ladies' room?" I plead, casting a beseeching glance at Patrick, hoping that it may be the only thing not to incur his wrath. To my astonishment, he smirks and nods, his hold on my arm easing just enough for me to break away.

As I hurry down the hall, the click of my heels on the marble floors echoes in my ears, matching the frantic pace of my heart. The party swirls around me, a dizzying blur of flashing lights and echoing laughter. In the midst of it all, I feel utterly disoriented, like a leaf caught in a whirlwind.

Suddenly, I collide with something solid, jolting me back to reality with a shock. Strong hands grip my shoulders, steadying me before I can stumble further. I blink, trying to focus through the haze of confusion, and then I see him—Finn. My heart lurches in my chest as our eyes meet, his widening in unmistakable surprise.

"Lily!" His voice slices through the chaos, drawing my attention like a lifeline in a storm. "What are you…" His words falter, and in that moment, I see it reflected in his eyes—the same disbelief, the same raw astonishment that grips me.

I inhale deeply, attempting to calm the erratic drumming of my heart. "I…" My voice wavers, barely rising above a whisper, as I struggle to articulate the swirling emotions within me. The weight of uncertainty presses down on my chest, making it difficult to form coherent sentences.

Finn's gaze narrows, flicking over my shoulder with concern etched in his features. "You shouldn't be here," he admonishes, his voice a blend of sternness and worry. "What are you doing here?"

"It's a long story…" I start, "But, listen, Patrick is keeping me here." Finn's expression softens with concern, his brow furrowing as he absorbs my words, but he nods in understanding.

"Okay," Finn says, his voice low and urgent, his gaze darting around the room. His words carry a sense of urgency, "Look," he continues, leaning in closer, his expression etched with determination, "I'm on a job right now, but I promise I'll get you out of here. Just stay close to me, and whatever happens, don't panic." There's a steely resolve in his eyes, a glimpse of the unwavering strength.

"A job?!" I whisper back, my eyes widening in disbelief, a mixture of shock and concern rippling through me. "I thought you were just here for the party?" My voice carries a hint of incredulity, tinged with a touch of frustration at the unexpected turn of events. Despite the chaos unfolding around us, a spark of defiance ignites within me, refusing to succumb to the fear and uncertainty that threaten to consume us. "What kind of job?" I press, my tone laced with curiosity and a hint of scepticism, unwilling to accept Finn's reassurances blindly.

Finn shakes his head, a fleeting expression of exasperation crossing his features. "God no." He glances over his shoulder again, as if to ensure no prying ears catch wind of their conversation. "Look, Lily, I can't get into it right now…" His voice trails off. "Can I trust you?"

My heart thumps in my chest. My palms grow sweaty, I wipe them on the fabric of my dress, the nervous energy coursing through me almost suffocating. Despite the fear clawing at the edges of my mind, I manage a shaky nod, my resolve flickering like a candle in the wind. "Yes," I murmur, the words barely escaping my lips, carrying the weight of uncertainty and apprehension. "I'll do whatever you say."

Finn sighs, tension melting from his shoulders as he seems to relax a little. "Good." With practised ease, he pulls out a small radio from his pocket and begins to whisper urgently into it. "Have we got her location yet?" His gaze sharpens as he listens intently for a moment before nodding. "Right, Thanks, Sofia."

"Who are you looking for?" I whisper, my voice barely audible over the music and chatter of the party. My heart still pounds in my chest, each beat resonating like a drumbeat of apprehension. I can't shake the feeling of unease that gnaws at my insides, a persistent reminder of the dangers lurking in the shadows.

Finn's eyes meet mine, a mixture of urgency and determination flickering within their depths. "Have you seen a young girl, Italian, dark hair, about so tall?" His voice is low, almost urgent, cutting through the ambient chatter of the room. He gestures with a subtle nod, indicating a height shorter than ours. "She's been taken against her will, and I'm here to bring her home."

Relief washes over me like a soothing balm as I manage to stutter out, "Oh… you're here for Isabell?" My voice quivers with a blend of apprehension and anticipation, betraying the myriad of emotions swirling inside me. "I-I know where she is."

Finn's gaze intensifies, his eyes boring into mine with a piercing scrutiny, as if searching for any hint of deception. After a moment that feels like an eternity, he nods in acknowledgment. "Good. Show me." His voice carries a resolute determination, underscoring his unwavering commitment to his mission.

I ushered him through the bustling crowd, my heart hammering against my ribs in a frantic rhythm. We manoeuvred through clusters of partygoers, navigating past swirling conversations and the clinking of glasses, like ships navigating through tumultuous waves.

The music pounds relentlessly, drowning out all but the thumping rhythm. Reaching the staircase that extends upward to the second floor, I steal a quick glance behind me, ensuring Patrick remains out of sight. With each step we climb, the urgency of our mission amplifies, each ascent feeling like a stride toward liberation for Isabell and for me.

My eyes darted around the room, searching for any signs of prying eyes. Feeling a surge of urgency, I grasp Finn's arm tightly and guide him into a secluded corner at the top of the stairs. "She's in there," I explain quickly, nodding towards a closed door at the end of the hallway. "But it's probably locked, or worse, one of Patrick's men could be guarding her."

Finn's face hardens at my words, his expression a mixture of determination and resolve. He strides up to the door, carefully examining the lock before selecting a pair of lock picks from his pocket. With nimble fingers, he sets to work, manipulating the tools with expert precision. His movements are so fluid and confident that it's as if he's done this a thousand times before.

The seconds feel like minutes, and the minutes like hours as we stand there, waiting for him to finish. Finally, there's a click, and he pushes the door open, revealing a dimly lit room beyond. Immediately, my heart begins to race, fearing that one of Patrick's men might be waiting on the other side.

A big man rushes towards the door, hand reaching for his weapon as we burst into the room. Before he can react, Finn pops off a silent shot, knocking him to the ground with a thud. Relief floods through me as I hurry over to Isabell. Who looks up, surprise spreading across her face as she sees me.

"Come on," I whisper urgently, "we need to get out of here." I take Isabell's hand, squeezing it reassuringly as Finn harries us out of the room and back down the hallway.

Our footsteps echo as we descend the stairs. Finn's hand brushes against mine, his touch both reassuring and electrifying. I can feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins, but I force myself to remain calm for Isabell's sake.

We reach the bottom of the stairs and turn left, heading toward the back door. The music and laughter of the party seem to fade into the distance, replaced by the pounding of my heart. I glance over at Isabell, her face pale and her eyes wide with fear. "It's going to be okay," I whisper, squeezing her hand. "We're almost out of here."

Finn leads us down the hallway, his footsteps silent and sure. He pauses at the door leading to the back alley and peeks outside, then nods for us to follow. As we step out into the dimly lit alley, I take a deep breath of the cool night air, feeling a sense of relief wash over me.

"This way," Finn whispers, gesturing for us to follow him. "The van is just around the corner." He moves swiftly through the darkness, his movements graceful and confident. I glance back over my shoulder, making sure Isabell is close behind. My heart pounds in my chest as we hurry down the alley, the adrenaline surging through my veins.

We round the corner, and I catch a glimpse of a black van parked ahead. Finn reaches it first, opening the sliding door and gesturing for us to climb in. I help Isabell inside, and then quickly follow her. A shot ringing out behind us makes me turn around just in time to see one Of patrick's men sprinting towards us. Finn slams the door shut and yells, "Go!"

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

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