#exo fanfict

[thargelalia]

Love at first shot - pt. 1

jason todd x fem!reader

adulting is hard, especially when you need to deal with Gotham's misadventures and its crazy ass vigilantes

or alternatively, this is how you meet Red Hood for the first time

-> +5k words

-> slight dark content, mild angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, strangers to lovers

-> warnings: violence; guns; blood; lots of swearing; mentions of drug dealing, and organized crime; poor attempt at humor; reader is unhinged, don't mess with her; jason looks like could kill you, and he could, but he's also a cinnamon roll <3

The hospital’s fluorescent lights contrast sharply with the dim orange glow of Gotham’s street lamps as you step outside. The cold autumn air nips at your face, a welcome break from the stuffy, sterile environment of the hospital. You’re exhausted but find a small sense of accomplishment as you reflect on your day. 

Dr. Joshi had pulled you aside earlier to express her satisfaction with your work performance so far, and you couldn’t be happier. She did warn you, though, to ‘take it easy’ because professor Chinwe apparently had a chat with her about your tendency to forgo any sense of self-care in order to achieve perfect results. 

Or whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean.

There was no sleeping on a scholarship before, and there’s certainly no sleeping on a residency now. No time for slacking off. You’re not going back to counting pennies to buy subway tickets again. Or choosing between having lunch or dinner because you can only afford one. Or mending shoes countless times until the soles effectively fall off and there’s nothing else to be done. Sure, you’re still not rich. But you’ve managed to successfully move from the dorms into a small apartment in Burnley. That’s a hell of an accomplishment already.

These are some of the thoughts that accompany you home during the bus ride home.

Desperate for a hot shower and yesterday’s leftovers, you climb the stairs leading to the second floor with what energy is left in your body. A yawn escapes your lips as you trudge through the corridor, feet stopping at the mat saying make yourself at home (but remember you’re not there). 

Much to your horror, the door to your apartment is ajar. 

Light escapes through the crack. 

Muffled sounds of struggle and stuff breaking are coming from the inside. 

Also, another thing.

You live alone. 

Shit.

Now, a reasonable person would probably back away slowly and hide, immediately calling the police. 

A reasonable person would be desperate and frightened to the core. 

But you’re not exactly a reasonable person. 

You’re a first year medical resident that spent the day busting your ass off only to come home and find… your cousin fighting – or better, trying to survive – the Red Hood in the middle of your living room.

“What the fuck is going on here?!” You eye the mess of broken vases, dirt spread on the floor, chairs thrown across the room, fallen paintings and shards of glass everywhere, until it stops on both figures at the center of the chaos. Red Hood’s hulking frame is hunched over your cousin, grasping his collar. His other hand freezes mid punch in the air. “Ezra???”

Ezra, your cousin, muttered a weak response akin to your name and a plea for help. Black eye swollen shut and multiple contusions of equal color all over his slender body. You’re surprised he’s not passed out yet. He’s close, though. 

Red Hood drops your cousin to the floor, straightening his posture. He looks twice as big now – if that’s even possible. Dark suit, accents of red on his chest and helmet, looms over you. You’d certainly be intimidated had it not been for the fact that you were fuming. 

These motherfuckers thrashed your entire place.

“This fucking dirtbag is dealing stolen meds and guns through my turf. To kids. He’s lucky I’m not dumping him in the harbor.” A deep modulated voice speaks menacingly.

Oh, yeah. Right. Your family’s aware of Ezra’s illicit activities. Just not the true extent of it. As it’s well known, whoever looks for trouble in Gotham, finds it fast. Or even if you don’t go looking. Like you at the moment. In any case, everyone had already tried to put some sense into Ezra’s head several times, but ultimately he’s a grown man. Dropped out of high school, told everyone to fuck off and said he was now going to do his own thing. 

Sometimes you felt guilty for not trying harder but over the years you realized it’s impossible to help someone who doesn’t want help.

“I can’t even—” you try to process his words, only for your lips to draw back in a snarl. “And what the hell makes you think you’re entitled to kick his ass at my place?!”

“I only followed his tracks here.” Red Hood has the audacity to shrug. “Got the drop on him before he could steal your shit. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Not much to steal now, huh? Is this your way of stopping house robbery?” you’re seething, gesturing wildly around like a madwoman. “Can’t steal what’s broken into pieces, jackass!”

“Your boyfriend told you that?”

“Go to hell!”

“Already did.”

A moan of pain snags your attention to the floor. Damn. You’d forgotten about Ezra. Red Hood approaches him again, seemingly wanting to finish the job.

“Wait!” You hold your hands out to stop him. “Don’t do this. Let me handle him.”

“Nobody fucks with me and lives to tell the story, doc.”

You choose to believe he knows your profession only because he’s seen the graduation pics before getting into action with Ezra. And not because he already had intel on you. Or had stalked you before due to Ezra’s stupidity. 

“Oh, yeah? And how about me? You fucked with me!” Whole face is now burning as you practically yell. “You’ve no idea how long it took me to finally be able to rent a place and buy my own shit! You self-righteous vigilantes need to get off your fucking high horses and actually see the amount of damage you cause under the excuse of ‘helping’! So do me a fucking favor and fuck off!”

You’re out of breath by the end of your outburst. There’s a beat of silence before Ezra starts contorting himself on the floor while coughing out blood. Red Hood looks between you and him, seemingly contemplating his next move.

“As you wish, then. He’s your fucking problem now. But if this son of a bitch shows his weasel face near my turf again, I’ll get him clipped.” You crouch down next to Ezra as the vigilante backs away and swings one leg over the windowsill. “One more thing, doc.”

You snap your head to him. “Play it smart with your words next time. Not everyone will be nice like me.”

Unfortunately, he’s out the window before you have a chance to flip him the middle finger.

“Shit. What am I gonna do with you now?” You heave a sigh, beginning to assess the damage in your cousin’s body. 

There’s a brief moment in which you consider just leaving him there like that and deal with everything in the morning. After all, you’re exhausted and it’s not your fault he got what he went looking for. 

The only thing left to do is to patch Ezra up and get him off the floor and onto the couch as he’s completely out now. His heartbeat and breathing are slow but steady despite everything, so he’ll live. Probably going to need a trip to the hospital to check for internal bleeding tomorrow, though. That is if he wants to, which you doubt. And also if you don’t decide to dump him in the river yourself until then. 

Grabbing a broom, a trash bag, disinfectants,  and other products, you clean what you can from the mess strewn across the place, not forgetting to scrub the small pool of blood off the floor. Good news is apparently Red Hood managed to catch him in the living room and kept the destruction there. Sadly, you’ll have to replace your brand new TV, three of your poor plants, an armchair, a few portraits and chairs. 

Tidying everything up as much as possible, you left to go straight into the shower; falling into bed face first afterwards, not even bothering with blankets. 

Walking into the living room the next morning and discovering you hadn’t dreamed at all about last night shattered your inner peace, anger rushing back in tidal waves. You were supposed to be getting ready for work now but instead you’re calling Dr. Joshi, bargaining to work an entire night shift in order to deal with family business this morning.  

After that, you’re dumping a whole bucket of cold water on Ezra for him to “wake the fuck up, bitch”.

You give him several pieces of your mind, threatening to bestow his face with another black eye to match the other one when he dares to intervene. The only reason why you won’t press charges against him is solely to prevent your aunt and uncle from having a heart attack. 

When you’re done, Ezra only provides a half-assed apology about things going out of his control, arguing that Red Hood is a “deranged psycho on steroids”, and that you should be more understanding of the situation as a family. But when he actively calls you selfish, saying you always got it easy as a student and now as a doctor, and thus have no right to be bitching about money, you lose it completely. 

The feral scream that comes from the depths of your soul is enough to make him bolt out the door without looking back, injuries be damned and all, as you let yourself drop into the wet couch cushions with a sniff.

–//–

It’s the middle of the evening on another day off when your apartment is yet again invaded. 

This time by an enforcer claiming that Ezra listed your name as someone who could pay his trafficking debts. Wonderful. He gave this gang both your home and work address. 

The criminal barged in with a kick to the front door. Not even a peep heard from your neighbors. Not then, not now. 

Rather you than me. It’s the Gothamites way of life. 

You had just finished cleansing and moisturizing your face inside the bathroom when you heard the noise of wood splintering. Not fast enough to hide, the enforcer soon found you, pulling roughly on your upper arm and shoving you into the living room with even less care. 

So, yeah, now there’s a gun to your face. 

Despite your heart beating faster than a hummingbird wings, the knees wobbling, and sweat starting to coat your back, you try not to let desperation completely cloud your judgement. 

The criminal was demanding the cash, threatening to shoot in case you don’t hand it to him, stating he knows you got it, so there’d be no way out of this. Meanwhile, your brain tries to come up with a solution. 

Think. Think. Think. Think. 

Skimming through several mental philes in a flash.

Ah. 

Krav Maga. 

This one might work.

If it doesn’t, then… well. 

Let’s just say it was nice sticking around long enough to watch Beyoncé’s Coachella performance.

Through Delilah’s 144p resolution FaceTime call. But still.

“Oh, my God!” Looking past the guy, you exclaim. Mouth wide open. “Batman?!”

Instant terror cascades his features, eyes bulging out of their sockets, as he snaps his head to look behind him.

In a rush of adrenaline, you act quickly to disarm him by twisting the barrel away with one hand while the other simultaneously pushes his wrist down. You slide back swiftly as the criminal cries out in pain — thumb got caught in the trigger, most likely being broken now. Good. 

“You bitch.” Hand cradled to his chest, he glowers at you in fury from a hunched position. “Got the guts to shoot me now, huh? Aren’t you supposed to save lives?” 

“You know what I do but you don’t know me.” Mustering your best sinister smile, you try to keep a steady grip on the weapon, adding another hand to its bottom. “Hands up behind your neck, asshole. Slowly.”

Doing as told, he winces, trying to plead through gritted teeth. “Put down that gun, sweet cheeks. You don’t wanna do this.” 

“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” you start, cocking the pistol. Eyes never leaving him. “You are getting lost. Now. And if you, or any other piece of shit, ever come back, you will pay.” 

“You’ll regret this.” 

“Not as much as you.” A click of another gun. 

Red Hood. 

You’ve no idea how he got here unnoticed but instant relief floods your system. Not that you’ll ever admit it.

Two guns point at the enforcer who’s now positively shaking and sweating buckets. Looking like a helpless sheep cornered by two hungry wolves.  

Oh, how the tables have turned. 

“C’mon, guys… Two against one? Not fair.” A nervous laughter reveals his yellow teeth. “I was just following orders, I swear! Don’t shoot the messenger, as they say.” 

“Just shut the fuck up.” In a swift motion Red Hood swings his gun upward, the solid metal butt striking the enforcer’s forehead, sending him sprawling to the ground. Then he turns. “You okay?”

Unable to come up with words, you simply nod. Lowering trembling hands, trying to take deep breaths as Red Hoods watches on.

“I’ll deal with this bastard outside.” He informs and you nod once again, extending your hand as a silent invitation for him to take the criminal’s glock. 

Tucking it into one of his holsters, he then picks up the unconscious body, throws it over the shoulder like a sack of rice and leaves through the window.

You waste no time in scrambling to the bedroom to find your phone. 

Delilah picks up after a few rings and you feel bad for waking your best friend up as her tired voice sounds through the speaker. 

“Hon, you okay?”

“I-can I..can I crash at your place?”

“Of course… What happened?? You’re scaring me.”

You fill her into all the crazy shit you’ve been dealing with, thanks to your stupid ass cousin, while leaving the details for later. She’s absolutely horrified as expected. Since you’ve both been super busy recently, there hasn’t been a chance to talk about all this. A text seemed inappropriate. 

Delilah asks how you’ll get to her apartment since she’s taken her car in for a revision, and you just tell her not to worry, promising to be there shortly. Ending the call, you hurriedly grab your stuff and throw everything necessary for a couple of days inside a backpack. 

Stepping out onto the sidewalk, you pay no mind to the chilling wind, intending to run as fast as possible to Delilah’s block. 

Out of a sudden, a prickling sensation spreads through your arms, making all the hairs stand up. 

Somebody’s watching you.

As you turn around, you jump when spotting a familiar figure leaning on their shoulder, arms and legs crossed, almost fully concealed by shadows. “The hell you’re still doing here?!” 

“Just tryna scare you. Good to see it worked.” Before you can open your mouth to curse him, his entire bloodline, every vigilante in Gotham city and their predecessors, Red Hood continues on a more serious note, “That son of a bitch won’t be a problem anymore.”

The enforcer. Right. 

“D-did you kill him?” You hate the way your voice wavers. 

“Sure you wanna know?” He leans away from the brick wall and saunters in your direction, causing you to instantly take a step back.

“Seriously, why are you still here?”

He ignores your question, pointing at the backpack strapped on your back. “Where you’re going?”

“Fuck off. That’s none of your business.”

“I just made it my business.”

“I’ll knee you in the groin.” 

At that, his modulated voice makes a weird strangled noise that almost sounds like… 

Wait. Is he laughing at you?

“Tough words for someone wearing a sleeping cap and Snoopy pajamas.” Yep. He’s definitely laughing at you. “There’s more holes in your shirt than in the assholes I...”

You drown out his last sentence, focusing on your lower body. Old white cotton pants and a long sleeved shirt with Snoopy prints adorned your frame. Clearly, in your haste to get away, changing clothes was the furthest thing to mind. 

That means you faced the criminal that broke into your house like this, too.

Placing a hand on your head, you also feel a smooth fabric there.

Immediately, you rip it off.

“I-Fuck. Listen, these actually—” A pause. “You know what? I don’t have to explain myself to you. Fuck off!”

“Pretty sure you already said that.”

“And I’ll keep saying it until–stop staring!” 

His amused chuckle fills the air.

“How do you know I’m staring?” There’s a 99% chance he’s smiling behind that helmet and you just wish you could slap it off his face.

Instead, you huff and walk away, leaving him standing there. More out of frustration and sheer annoyance than to actually ditch him as this would be impossible. Indeed, he manages to catch up easily with his long legs. 

Then, turning on heels briskly, you brandish the pink satin fabric in front of his face. “By the way, this is called a bonnet.” 

“Duly noted, Snoopy.” He’s closer now. Not too much to make it uncomfortable, but enough to fully enclose a large gloved hand around yours. Somehow, he manages to soften the modulated voice. “I know you’re scared. But lashing out at me isn’t the answer, alright? I’m only here to make sure you get to your friend’s place in one piece.”

“I’m not–Wait. Never told you where I was going.” 

“Mmm, you did.” 

“I didn’t.” A gasp of realization leaves your lips. “You were spying on me!”

“My hearing is just sharp.”  

“Unlike your brain, apparently.” 

“Hilarious.” Judging by the flat tone, he must’ve rolled his eyes. “But seriously, let me walk you there. The streets are dangerous at this hour.”

Much to your dismay, he’s actually right. Being out in Gotham by yourself as a woman in the middle of the night is a terrible business. Best not to take any chances. 

“Fine…” You tug your hand back and start walking again, mumbling sarcastically, “what a gentleman.”

“Nope. Not even close,” he drawls, falling into step behind you. 

You don’t say anything back and neither does he. To his credit, he actually keeps a respectful distance. Even when the cold is too much and you halt to produce a jacket from the bag. Only the sound of your backpack rustling echo in the empty streets. Not a single soul in sight. 

This whole predicament is just so uncanny to you. Only a month ago your only knowledge of vigilantes came from sensationalist news outlets or frequent whispers and gossip at work whenever criminals were admitted to the ICU in a coma. 

Like most people, you’ve also seen the bat-signal reflected in the night sky multiple times.

But you’ve never actually seen one of them right in front of your eyes. Twice now. 

You chance a furtive glance behind. 

Thumbs hooked in his utility belt, Red Hood has his attention to the passing houses, leisurely putting one foot after the other as if he’s taking a stroll at the park. 

One would even think he’s distracted. But you know better.  

Feeling watched, he tilts his head in question, prompting you to immediately avert your eyes to the front. 

At some point, he offers to carry your backpack, but gets impatiently dismissed. 

The rest of the walk to Delilah’s block is silent.

“This is it.” You announce when you reach the familiar beige stone building. He patiently waits as you climb the first two steps of the entrance and turn to him, standing eye to eye. “I appreciate your help tonight but I hope we won’t ever see each other again.”

“Ouch.” He clutches his chest in feigned hurt, wiping an invisible tear off the glowing white eyes. “How will I survive?”

“I don’t trust you, Red Hood.” You narrow your eyes, voice coming out more stern than intended. 

Silence. 

“You’re smart.” His tone is neutral. 

“Of course I am.” 

Again, silence.  

He lifts his fingers. 

And flicks. 

He flicks your forehead, completely catching you off guard.

Aside from your pride, nothing hurts, though. 

Then, he’s gesturing to your worn out pajamas. 

“You know, too bad I don’t have my wallet on me right now or I’d give you twenty bucks to replace those rags. Seriously, not even the homeless in Crime Alley—” 

“YOU—”

“I know, I know. I’ll gladly fuck off this time.” He cuts in, leaving the range of your clenched fists by gracefully sliding back. Hands up in mock surrender.  “Take care, Snoopy.”

–//–

After the entire ordeal of being held at gunpoint, nearly robbed, having your place broken in and thrashed, you decided to move to the other end of the neighborhood. A more busy but still fairly calm street. 

That doesn’t stop you from investing in sturdy locks for the windows and front door. 

No uninvited — and highly dangerous — guests this time.

Delilah let you stay with her for the days necessary to pull everything together. Despite the close ties you share, however, you really don’t like feeling like an intrusion. Not that she’s ever been unkind, quite the contrary actually. She loves having people over. The thing is once you get used to having your own space, it’s hard to live around others again.

Amidst the chaos of packing stuff and moving, you managed to take some time to visit your aunt and uncle. According to them, Ezra’s been arrested for drug trafficking, theft, and extortion. They were obviously crushed but understanding that there was nothing else to be done. You tried to show your support while hiding the relief of having one less problem to worry about. 

It’s a Tuesday night when you decide to get cozy on the sofa after an ordinary shift at the hospital. 

You’re tired, but not entirely exhausted. Just an ache in your bones. 

After a relaxing shower, you make some hot cocoa, pick up a book and dim the lights a little until sleep comes to find you. 

Contrary to your expectations, something else does. 

Trouble. 

In the shape of a black suit with a red bat insignia. 

A frantic knock on the glass window scares you into dropping your book to the floor. Scowling as you identify the source of disturbance. 

“Seriously, dude? What happened to fucking off for good?”

You reluctantly slide the windows open before he manages to crack them with his knuckles. He ducks his head in and drops unceremoniously to the ground, arms spread open.

“How did you even find me??” 

Noticing his chest heaving, you cross your arms and wait for him to catch his breath. 

“Need... a.. minute.” It’s all he manages to get out. 

Huffing in disbelief, you close the window and get comfortable on the couch again. No one’s keeping you from enjoying the little free time you haven’t had in a while. 

There’s a sound of careful footsteps. “I swear to God, if you dirty my house with those boots I’ll—” 

“Shhhh.” He lifts a finger to where his lips are, behind the helmet. “Don’t worry, Snoopy. I’ll leave soon.” 

“Still haven’t told me what you’re doing or how you found me.” 

He looks around and points at your armrest. “Mind if I sit?”

Tsking, you shut your book and drop it on the coffee table. “Go ahead. Not like I can stop you anyway.”

A deep sigh comes out as he flops down onto the soft cushions. He adjusts himself on the seat, legs widely spread, evidencing chunky meaty thighs. That’s definitely not a bad sight. Not that you’ll ever reveal this to him or anybody else whatsoever. 

“I know you’re not happy to see me again. But I actually needed to ditch someone. Some people. If you can actually consider them people.”

You lift an eyebrow as he says the last sentence almost inaudibly. 

“Why not just gun them down?” Your question drips with sarcasm. 

He hesitates. “They’re.. fast.”

At that, you shoot up from the couch. “And you risked bringing them here?? What the fuck?!”  

“What? No. No. Easy.” He tries to sound gentle and not make any sudden moves. As if dealing with a hostile cat. “I made sure they lost my tracks on the other side of town.” 

“How can you be so sure??”

“Trust me. I’d never endanger you like that.” 

You fall back onto the couch. Head stuck between hands. Can’t believe you’re in this mess again.

“As for how I found you,” he goes on, thinking as he says, “uuh.. let’s say I asked around.”

“Asked around?” You eye him suspiciously, getting a vigorous nod in return. “To whom?”

“Mmm, I’ve my sources. The same that also let me know your jackass cousin went to jail.” 

“Yeah, that’s right.” A sigh leaves your lips at the reminder. “But being privy to my life without consent is called stalking, you know?”

“I understand. But, hey, I needed to know if you were alright so I could sleep at night.” You can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or not. “Felt bad for destroying your things the other day.”

“Well, if you really want to compensate for the damage, start by getting me a new TV.” He laughs and stops when he sees you’re not following along. “I’m serious.”

He clears his throat. “Any preferences?”

“No less than a sixty-five inch screen. 4K resolution. Feel free to choose the brand.”

“Got it.” You’re not sure he actually means it. “Does that mean I get an invitation to visit you again?”

“Ha! Unbelievable. Just order it online or have someone else deliver it at my door.” 

“Why do you even need that big of a TV anyway? The previous one you had was fifty inches.” 

That’s shockingly accurate. How does he remember that? Why did he pay enough attention to that when invading your place to whoop your cousin’s ass? So many questions pop up inside your head but you decide to let them go for now. 

“Okay, creep. You don’t get to call the shots here. I’m the one being compensated, remember?” 

“Fine.” He sighs in defeat, dropping the back of his head against the armchair. Then, he’s looking at you, or rather, your clothes. “I see you finally got new pajamas. Snoopy will be missed. RIP.”

Unlike the long sleeved Snoopy one, this set is composed of light blue polka dot shorts and shirt.  

“For your information, that wasn’t my only pair.” A flush creeps up your cheeks as you grab a throw pillow and place it on your lap, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “I own a lot of pajamas.”

“So you willingly choose to dress like an apocalypse survivor?” 

“You’re not really in a position to critique my fashion choices.”  

“Hey, what’s wrong with my suit?”  

“The person behind it.”

He tuts, shaking his head in mock disapproval. “You’re a really irascible lady, huh?” 

“You learned that word today?”

“Yesterday, actually.” His attention is drawn to the book you were reading. He grabs it and examines the pages curiously before closing them. Moving on to the cover, he reads the title out loud. “A Scandal of Bohemia. Sherlock Holmes? You like mystery books? Should I call you Scooby Doo instead of Snoopy?”

“I’m surprised you can even read.” Your eyes roll at his foolishness. “And stop calling me cartoon dogs names!”

“Can’t you just play nice for once?” He puts the book down and reclines, arms braced on the armchair. “Yes, for your information, not only can I read as I actually enjoy doing it very much.”

Contemplating his words, you decide to indulge yourself him by asking, “Well, what do you like to read?”

“Finally curious about me?” The smugness in his voice earns him a dirty look. “Careful. One might even think you’re starting to like me.”

Maybe you are, in fact, irascible. 

“I take it back.” 

“I read pretty much anything as long as it’s interesting to me.” He reveals honestly, not wanting to waste the opportunity of having a civilized conversation with you for once. “Most of it is fiction. Classic, Gothic, Horror…” He stops listing on his fingers to make a dramatic pause. “Romance…”

You blink in surprise. “What?”

“What what?” 

“You said Romance.”

“Yeah, I did. Why?” Jutting his chin out, he crosses his strong arms in a playful attempt to intimidate you. “Got a problem?”

“Nope. It’s just… hmm, unexpected?” You offer with a shrug. “I’m not much of a Romance reader myself, to be honest.”

“I can tell.”

Something about the way he says it so earnestly elicits what could be considered a witch cackle from you. Red Hood watches this whole display in stunned silence until you’re wiping a tear off the corner of your eyes. 

“Oh, wow. Didn’t know you were capable of that.” 

“Laughing?”

“Being human.”

Just like that, your expression closes up again. “Ha-ha. Don’t get used to it.” 

“Right. Back to cranky default, I see.” His words are colored with amusement as he cranes his neck to look at the wall clock near the kitchen entrance. A gasp leaves his lips and he’s suddenly up on his feet. “Shit. Didn’t mean to stay this long. I gotta go now.”

“Oh, okay.” You stand up and check the time as well. It’s almost midnight. 

“Thanks for everything, Snoopy. See you around.”

“See you.” A strange feeling of disappointment settles into your chest after his departure. 

You enjoyed his company tonight more than you’re willing to admit. 

—//—

Not even a week later, you arrive home to see him there again. 

Now, installing a new television in your living room. 

Seventy inches screen. 4k and all that. Just like you requested.

“Honestly. I’m not even surprised anymore.” You say while taking off your coat and hanging it on the wall hooks. “Don’t know why I bothered with getting better locks in the first place.” 

Despite the jab, your voice lacks its usual bite. Only a teasing lilt present in them. It’s nice to see he listened to your demands. 

“No, you did the right thing. The locks are actually great.” He comments absentmindedly, engrossed in the task at hand. 

“Not enough to keep you out, obviously.”

You take in the scene in front of you. There’s a cardboard box and some plastic wraps placed in the corner. At the center of the living room, Red Hood is assembling the TV to its mount on the wall, deeply concentrated. It’s a big heavy object that to anyone, would be awkward to lift alone. Not to him, though. He holds it almost like a freaking tablet. 

That also begs the question as to how the hell he managed to climb up to the third floor and pass through your window while carrying a seventy inch television. 

A lighthearted chuckle diverts you from your thoughts. 

“I’ll leave if you want, though. Almost done here.”

“Oh, no, please be my guest.” You wave him off, going into the kitchen for a glass of water. Then, coming back to watch him work. “You know, I’d offer you something to drink but… the helmet, right?”

“Sorry, Snoopy.” He’s fishing for the TV remote inside the box now. “Secret identity and all that shit.” 

“No, yeah. Absolutely. ” The bitterness within your words seems impossible to be contained. “It’s not like you know my home and work address, my occupation, my family and friends relations, my routine…”

“Okay, okay. I get it.” He winces, fiddling with the remote in his hands. It’s the first time he appears awkward standing in your apartment. “For what it's worth, I’m really sorry.”

After making sure the TV is working properly, he makes his way to the window. 

“Thank you.” You say suddenly, causing him to freeze. 

He turns his head slightly and gives a curt nod. 

“Anytime.” 

Then, he’s gone.

A/N: in case anyone's wondering how Jason managed to get the big ass TV through a window on the third floor, he asked Dick for help. No questions asked.

remember to reblog and let me know your thoughts if you like this!

pt. 2 will be posted soon!

thanks for reading <3

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[edenesth]

Scarlet Requiem

Pairing: emperor!Baekhyun x empress!reader

AU: historical au (Goryeo era)

Word Count: 4k

Summary: In his reign, Baekhyun strived to be a virtuous emperor, all for the sake of his kind-hearted empress, steadfastly resisting the temptations of power that had corrupted those before him. He held onto the belief that this was the key to securing her eternal presence by his side. Yet, he learned, to his heartbreak, that this very resolve would lead to the cruellest loss of all.

Genre: heavy angst

Trigger Warnings: major character death, violence, gore, lots of blood

MAIN MASTERLIST

"Capture that demon before she flees!"

Her hands trembled as she gazed at her reflection in the ornate gold mirror. Once healthy skin now bore a sickly pallor, brown eyes turned crimson, tears staining her cheeks red. Even her jet-black hair had transformed to snowy white. Confusion and fear gripped her as she struggled to comprehend the inexplicable transformation.

As guards roughly seized her arms, she pleaded, "No, please! I've done nothing wrong! I don't understand any of this!"

"Of course, you'd deny it, Your Imperial Majesty," sneered the Minister of Rites, one of many who had urged her husband, the emperor, to accept their daughters as concubines. "Little did you know, those potions you received from the royal healer for the past month were meant to reveal your true nature by shedding your human guise."

Horror pierced her heart as realisation dawned. The tonics meant to maintain her health had been a ruse. She had been poisoned, it explained the sudden and alarming changes in her body and health.

"You," she whispered, the weight of the truth settling heavily upon her. "It was all you."

She was not naive; she understood the ministers' discontent with her influence over Baekhyun throughout his reign. Their persistent attempts to sway him, offering their daughters as concubines to bolster their own power and threaten her position, had not escaped her notice. Their frustration must have reached its zenith when her husband adamantly refused their advances, steadfast in his commitment to her as his one and only empress.

"Hm? I'm not sure I understand what you're implying," the man smirked, his deceptive tone belying his words. "We've long suspected there was more to you, Your Imperial Majesty. It appears you're indeed a demon, effortlessly manipulating the emperor. Surely a man of his stature would desire more than one woman by his side?"

Struggling against the guards' grasp, she retorted weakly, "You vile cowards. You'll rue the day my husband learns of this..."

The pieces of the puzzle fell into place, revealing their sinister plot. They had bided their time, seizing the perfect opportunity amidst the chaos of war. With Baekhyun, the virtuous emperor she had wished him to be, leading the army, they saw their chance to poison her, framing her as a demon to eradicate her while he was away.

"Or perhaps we'll witness the rise of the ambitious emperor we've long awaited. He will finally be able to reach his full potential without you here obstructing his path," he sneered, gesturing towards the approaching healer with another bowl of poison. "Just comply and drink your tonic, Your Imperial Majesty. Your suffering will soon end, and our nation will thrive under the rule of a new emperor, liberated from your naive ideals."

As the sinister men tightened their grip, she sobbed in agony, the relentless headache from the past month resurfacing with a vengeance. Each touch felt like a dagger through her skull, each word a cruel reminder of her plight.

With an apologetic bow of his head, the healer cupped her jaw, his hands trembling as he forced the bowl of poison towards her lips. "Forgive me, Your Imperial Majesty," he whispered, his voice trembling with remorse. "This will be the last one, I promise."

She gagged as the bitter liquid slid down her throat, burning with each swallow. Crimson tears streamed down her white face as she choked on the vile concoction, feeling her strength wane with each passing moment. In that desperate moment, all she could do was pray for salvation from the nightmare consuming her.

As the healer finally released his hold, she felt despair engulf her. The bitter poison settled within her damaged insides, coursing through her veins like a silent killer, slowly consuming her from within.

"It is done, my lord. The empress will not survive through the night," the healer declared, his voice carrying a finality that chilled her to the bone.

The minister's grin widened with satisfaction. "Excellent. Arrange for someone to confirm her death by dawn. Let her enjoy her final moments in the comforts of her own chambers. His Imperial Majesty will surely be grateful we've rid him of his treacherous demon of a wife upon his return from war."

Laying limply in the centre of her grand chambers, the very space she had once despised before ascending to empress, memories flooded her mind. She recalled the scepticism that clouded her heart when she first found herself falling for the crown prince of the nation. After all, history had taught her that no happy endings awaited the women who loved emperors. But Baekhyun was different—he was loving, caring, and considerate, going to great lengths to prove his devotion to her.

He swore never to take concubines, to resist the allure of power, and to remain hers, and hers alone. Despite the admiration of the entire nation, he remained committed to prioritising her above all else, even if it meant drawing the ire of his ministers and officials. Their accusations of his partiality towards his empress over his nation only served to strengthen his resolve, his unwavering loyalty to her.

But now, as she lay weakened by poison, she realised the tragic irony of his goodness. It was his very commitment to righteousness that led him to the battlefield, refusing to let his men fight in his stead. And it was this decision that ultimately sealed their fate, leaving her to face the consequences of his noble intentions.

As the darkness closed in around her, she couldn't help but wonder how Baekhyun would react upon returning to find her lifeless form in this state. Would he succumb to the poisonous words of his ministers, believing their accusations that she had been a demon all along? Would he entertain the notion that she had bewitched him, clouding his judgement and leading him astray?

Or would he remain firm in his loyalty, unwavering in his belief that this was nothing more than a cruel ploy to rid him of her for good? In the depths of her fading consciousness, she desperately clung to the hope that he would see through the lies, that his love for her would prevail over doubt.

On the brink of death, she yearned to trust in his endless devotion to her, to believe that he would never doubt the love they shared. It was a fragile hope, but in that moment, it was all she had to cling to as she slipped further into the darkness, awaiting the inevitable arrival of dawn and the fate it would eventually bring.

"Forgive me for not being strong enough, Baek," she whispered into the stillness of the chamber, her voice barely a breath against the heavy silence. "Please don't blame yourself for any of this."

As the darkness threatened to swallow her entirely, she couldn't help but reflect on the warnings of history, the cautionary tales of women who loved emperors, only to meet tragic ends. Once again, it seemed, she had fallen victim to the same fate.

Her vision blurred with crimson tears as memories flooded her mind—moments shared with Baekhyun before he departed for battle, blissfully unaware that they would be their last. Each memory stung with bittersweet intensity, a painful reminder of what could have been, had fate been kinder.

As her life ebbed away, flashes of cherished moments with him flickered through her mind like scattered stars in the night sky.

Wrapped in the warmth of silk sheets, doubts clouded her mind one morning, questioning her husband's resolve to remain faithful amidst the pressures of his position.

"Would you truly refuse to take any concubines, Baek?" she inquired, her voice laced with uncertainty. "You're aware that the ministers and officials desire it, and perhaps even the citizens of our nation. For all we know, the people might have grown weary of this same dull empress who has yet to bear you an heir."

He drew her close, pulling the silk sheets higher to shield her bare form from the chill seeping through the open windows. Pressing a tender kiss upon her head, he smiled reassuringly. "Never, my love. I do not care for their political machinations. I won't forsake my vow to you. You will remain my only wife, that is final. I did not ask to be emperor, the role was thrust upon me. Now that I am here, they should at least be grateful I am fulfilling my general duties."

She chuckled, nestling into the crook of his neck as he added, "Besides, if the ministers and officials are so displeased, they could just dismiss me. That would be even better; we could live in a quiet little village, just as we've always dreamed."

In another memory, standing before her reflection, plagued by insecurities instilled by the scheming ministers, his unwavering admiration melted her fears away.

"You look beautiful, my empress. You always do," he reassured, approaching from behind to envelop her in his arms.

"Not as beautiful as those young maidens, I fear. I am old," she confessed, feeling a twinge of self-consciousness after witnessing the ministers' attempts to seduce the emperor with their daughters.

Baekhyun gently turned her to face him. "If you're old, then I must be ancient," he teased. "I believe it's only fitting that I am with someone my age, and that's you, my empress. I have no interest in marrying children or anyone else for that matter; I am a taken man. Don't you dare compare yourself to anyone else again, you hear me? You're the most beautiful woman in my eyes, and that's all that matters."

In the final embrace before he departed for war, hearts heavy with the uncertainty of his return, they clung to each other.

"I will be back before you know it, my love. You'll wait for me, won't you?" her husband murmured against her neck, his arms tightening around her.

"Where else would I go, you idiot? Of course, I'll be waiting right here," she retorted, tightening her hold around his shoulders.

Amidst tears and laughter, he leaned in to kiss her deeply, pressing his lips against her soft ones over and over again to imprint the sensation into memory.

"I love you, my empress," Baekhyun whispered against her lips before pulling away, his eyes full of love and determination.

In the quiet of her chamber, she found solace in the fleeting recollections, clinging to them as the darkness threatened to consume her entirely. And as the crimson tears clouded her eyes once more, she resigned herself to the inevitable, silently bidding farewell to the life she once knew.

"I love you too, my emperor."

"I will not ask again, where is she?!" the emperor's voice thundered through the throne room as he stormed back into the palace, abandoning the battle upon learning the shocking revelation. According to the Minister of Rites in his letter, the empress had been discovered to be a demon all along, concealing her true nature under human skin to manipulate him and bend him to her will.

The eunuch panicked and fell to his knees. "Th-the empress is confined to her grand chambers, Your Imperial Majesty!"

Without uttering another word, Baekhyun stormed over immediately, his heart thumping loudly against his chest as fury overtook his being. Betrayal flooded his veins; he was seething with anger.

"You will regret lying to me," he growled under his breath, his vision zeroing in on the path towards her chambers, the place he frequented more than his own. "You will regret deceiving me."

Upon reaching the entrance of her chambers, he turned to the eunuch. "Gather all the ministers and officials who played a part in discovering the empress as what they claimed her to be in the throne room. I wish to speak with them soon."

"Yes, Your Imperial Majesty," the eunuch hurriedly replied before darting off to carry out his orders. Baekhyun steadied his breaths, his hand resting on the door as he prepared to face her once more. Under his breath, he vowed, "I swear, you will all regret it. How dare you accuse my wife of being what you are—demons."

I'm here now, my love.

Stepping into the familiar room, the emperor's heart raced with anxiety as he mulled over a perfect apology. He needed to express his deep remorse for not being there when she needed him the most, for failing to shield her from the treachery of those vultures. Reflecting on his actions, he realised he should have never left her behind. In his rush to leave for war, he had neglected to arrange proper protection for her. In hindsight, he understood that he should have never left her side in the first place.

Determined to make amends, he vowed to do better. He resolved to never again allow those ministers or officials the opportunity to torment her in his absence again. From now on, he would be her shield, her staunch protector, and her unending support.

But it might be too late for any of that.

His steps faltered, his breath caught in his chest, and his heart skipped a beat as he beheld the sight before his eyes. The sword in his hands slipped, clanging loudly as it hit the ground, and he sank to his knees in disbelief at the last thing he expected to see.

His shock deepened as he took in his wife's unrecognisable appearance. Crawling towards her limp form on the ground, he pulled her into his arms, his voice trembling with anguish. The horror settled within him like a heavy weight as he tried to imagine what atrocities these monsters had dared inflict upon her while he was gone. His mind raced with images of torture and torment, each one more gruesome than the last.

"Oh god, what have they done to you?" he whispered, his heart fracturing into a million shards as he struggled to comprehend her pale skin, her white hair, and the blood-like tears staining her cheeks. With shaking hands, he gently cupped her cold cheek, his fingers tracing the contours of her face as if seeking reassurance that she was still there, still his beloved wife.

"Please wake up, my love. This isn't funny, stop scaring me," he pleaded, his voice thick with emotion. "You promised to wait for me. You promised..." His words trailed off into a broken sob as he refused to accept anything but the truth, shaking his head in denial even as he searched desperately for a pulse, even when she remained unresponsive.

"No, no, no... this can't be real. It can't be," he murmured, his mind reeling with the unimaginable horror of what he had found.

Despair and regret enveloped him as he sobbed painfully, holding her lifeless body tightly against his chest. The realisation that she was truly gone, that her final moments were spent alone in the very room she despised just to be with him, weighed heavily on his heart. He grappled with the bitter truth that he had failed her, just as she had feared when she hesitated to be with him.

Gradually, his sorrow gave way to seething rage as he recalled the faces of the ministers and officials responsible for this atrocity. They had callously taken her life, foolishly believing he would be deceived by their feeble attempt to frame her. With trembling hands, he picked up a shard of the shattered bowl nearby and brought it to his nose, recognising the metallic scent of mercury.

Suddenly, everything clicked into place.

They had poisoned her with lethal doses of mercury, causing a myriad of symptoms—tremors, headaches, muscle weakness, kidney damage, and breathing difficulties. And the deliberate administration of such high doses to turn her hair white revealed their sinister intent from the outset.

Just how much had they fed her? It was evident they had intended to kill her from the start. Anguish and fury surged within him as he vowed to make them pay.

Gently caressing her cold cheek, he leaned in to kiss her unmoving lips, his own trembling against hers. He blamed himself for everything that had transpired. Perhaps if she hadn't been with him, she would have lived a better life—a normal life with a normal man. She wouldn't have to endure such a painful and cruel death.

It was all because of him.

Regret hung heavy in his heart, but dwelling on what could have been served no purpose.

"I'm so sorry, my wife," he whispered, his voice thick with grief. "Just hold on a bit longer, alright? I'll join you soon, but first, I'll make those bastards pay. Wait for me—I won't let you face this alone. Not again."

With resolve hardening in his heart, he retrieved his sword and sheathed it once more before lifting her lifeless form into his arms. Like a man burdened by death itself, he trudged towards the throne room where justice awaited. Kicking the doors open with a forceful thrust of his leg, he was met with a sea of horrified expressions from the ministers and officials. Clearly, they hadn't anticipated the emperor's dramatic entrance, cradling his beloved empress in his arms.

Ignoring their shocked gazes, he strode past them, his eyes fixed on the throne at the far end of the room. With careful tenderness, he laid his wife down upon the ornate seat, arranging her robes and ensuring her comfort as though she were merely sleeping. Pressing a solemn kiss upon her cold forehead, he turned to face the assembled council, their unease palpable in the air.

The guilty culprits remained frozen in their places, uncertain of what awaited them.

As the emperor's gaze swept over them, the ministers and officials for the first time felt a cold shiver of fear trickle down their spines. His expression was unreadable, his appearance wild and dishevelled compared to his usual polished demeanour. Specks of blood and dirt stained his robes and skin, his hair a tangled mess, half tied up in a disarray that mirrored the chaos within him.

Gone was the warm smile that often graced his features; instead, a slow, unsettling grin crept across his face.

"My dearest ministers and officials," he began, his voice low and laced with an eerie calmness. "Your message has been received loud and clear. I hope you're satisfied now that you've succeeded in eradicating the empress, as you so desperately desired. I've given it some thought, and perhaps... you were all right."

The Minister of Rites, attempting to feign nonchalance, cleared his throat. "A-about what, Your Imperial Majesty?" he stammered.

Baekhyun's eyes gleamed with a frightening intensity as he smirked, his demeanour bordering on madness. "About what this nation truly needs," he replied, his voice carrying a chilling edge.

"Not a good emperor, but a mad one."

Without giving the men before him time to register his words, all Baekhyun saw was red. In a split second, he unsheathed his sword and transformed into a bloodthirsty animal, cutting down anyone and everyone in his path. The Minister of Rites tried to flee but to no avail. He watched in complete horror as his colleagues dropped dead one by one, their blood splattering over the grand walls of the throne room, their screams echoing.

The emperor went on a rampage, leaving no man behind. The Minister of Rites, who had been behind the idea of poisoning the empress, smearing her name by labelling her a demon, and executing her, was now filled with regret. They had turned him into the mad king his empress had feared. Perhaps they had finally achieved their goal, but it wasn't what they were prepared for.

The minister collapsed to his knees before the emperor, realising that His Imperial Majesty had saved him for last. Trembling, he rubbed his hands together in a desperate plea. "P-please, everything I've done, it's for the betterment of our nation."

Baekhyun's humourless laughter echoed through the hall, sending shivers down the minister's spine. "You truly believe that, don't you? Of course, that includes subjecting my wife to all that torment. Yes, because that is exactly what the nation needs. Unfortunately for you, I am the emperor, and I determine what's best for the nation. And in this case, I think it's better off without traitors like you. See you on the other side," were the last words the minister heard before his head was severed from his neck, rolling off to join the others on the floor.

The emperor finally turned back, his eyes softening as they landed on his beloved's lifeless body. Making his way back towards her, he knelt down beside her, tears streaming down his face as he reached for her hand. Holding it to his cheek, he missed the warmth it once had.

"I'm coming now, my love," he whispered brokenly. "I'm sorry you had to wait for so long. I'll be there with you soon."

"Yes, I understand His Imperial Majesty's orders not to enter, but it's been hours. Surely, any assembly would have concluded by now, wouldn't it?" With apprehension and curiosity, a senior court lady pushed open the doors to the once-bustling throne room, expecting to find His Imperial Majesty and his council of ministers. Instead, she was met with a horrifying sight—a scene of bloodshed and chaos spread across the grand hall.

Her piercing scream echoed through the silent room, jolting nearby palace staff into action. Rushing to the scene, they were met with a scene that chilled them to the bone. At the end of the room, amidst a sea of lifeless bodies, lay the empress on the throne, her appearance shocking all who beheld it. Beside her, her husband remained, his head cradled on her chest, their hands tightly clasped together. A gaping stab wound marred his chest—it seemed he had taken his own life before joining her in death.

Following that, the next prince in line promptly ascended the throne and found himself compelled to appoint an entirely new cabinet of ministers and officials. The entire nation descended into chaos, particularly since it was still embroiled in a war, with endless theories circulating about the events. While some speculated that the emperor succumbed to madness and killed his own council, others whispered of a conspiracy, suggesting that the ministers had orchestrated the demise of both the empress and the emperor.

Amidst this uncertainty, the new prince faced the daunting challenge of restoring order to the kingdom. With a heavy heart, he pledged to uncover the truth behind the tragic occurrences and ensure that justice was served to those responsible.

In the end, the truth of what truly occurred remained shrouded in mystery. All those involved had departed from the realm of the living. As centuries passed, that chapter in history became known as the Scarlet Requiem, a haunting tale that lingered in the collective memory of the kingdom. Despite countless efforts to unravel the enigma, the events surrounding the tragedy remained obscured by the sands of time, leaving future generations to ponder and speculate about the dark secrets of the past.

"What do you think really happened?" a woman asked her boyfriend as they studied a painting depicting the throne room scene in a museum dedicated to the events of the Scarlet Requiem.

He pondered for a moment before responding with a shrug. "It's hard to say. But judging by the way he's holding onto her, it seems he must have truly loved her. Let's hope they've found peace and happiness, whether in the afterlife or their next life."

She nodded in agreement, leaning into his comforting embrace. "Yeah, I hope so too."

He flashed a mischievous grin. "I'm just saying, if I were him, I wouldn't have left her for war in the first place."

She rolled her eyes and gave him a playful smack, though a smile danced on her lips. "I'm sure you wouldn't. I bet it's because the empress was described as beautiful as a celestial being."

He scoffed. "Doesn't matter to me how pretty she was. I'll stay only if you're my empress."

Unbeknownst to them, the couple had been contemplating their own past lives. Perhaps the emperor and empress had indeed found each other again in another existence.

Believe it or not, this has been on my mind for months ever since seeing those AI-generated photos of Baekhyun. I had an epiphany while looking at them again yesterday and just had to write this. It's my first EXO fic, and I hope it's decent hehe~

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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@the-kpop-simp @itstheghostofmypast @green-agent @vantediary @tinyteezer |

@hollxe1 @pandabur666 @lilactangerine @oddracha @evidive

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[soobadnoonecanstopher]

Rat Bastard - Part 1

Pairing: You x Kyungsoo

Rating: M (Mature)

Word Count: 7700

Warnings/Tropes: Strong Language, There were too many beds, Enemies to Lovers

Links: Part 1, Part 2

You were due for some good.

Genuinely and honestly you could feel it. You were due for something good to happen to you. So much lately had been so very bad. This kind of bad luck seemed defy all the odds. Surely, surely this impressive streak of the universe opening its big cavernous mouth and vomiting all over your head could not, absolutely should not keep going. You were due. Something good. Anything good. For the love of God, it wasn’t as if you were a bad person. It wasn’t as if you routinely bet on dog fights and stole money from the big charity jar for the sick kids next to the register. You’d never ever, not once in your life even so much as looked at a dog or a kid funny. You never raised your voice or lost your temper. You didn’t yell at service workers. You didn’t deserve the cataclysm of shit that had been flung your way and even if, okay maybe… maybe once or twice you’d told a white lie, it was only to spare someone’s feelings. Maybe you’d stolen a piece of candy from a corner store as an ignorant child. Maybe you stepped on an ant or a fly or a spider but you swear none of it had been on purpose. You weren’t a bad person, not in the way that those bad people who get punished by the universe are punished, that wasn’t you. This shit storm had to end soon. It just had to.

You had been repeating this to yourself during the entire flight. During the entire, eerily empty flight with the single flight attendant who occasionally looked up and smiled at you when you made eye contact and uttered out a sweet, “you alright, hon?” When your own smile dipped just a little too far as the turbulence grew to what you were sure had to be abnormal levels.

The plane was one of those tiny propeller planes. The kind that had a whopping nine seats total and what every creak and groan of its rusted out nuts and bolts barely holding the thing together as it fought through the high winds outside and sent shivers down your spine.

What if this was it? What if that pilot had flown this thing right smack over the Bermuda Triangle and your rotten shit ass luck sent the three of you down into a watery grave nestled up beside Amelia Earhart and her tangled barnacle covered wreckage at the bottom of the sea.

No.

No, you were due for something good.

“Is it normally this loud?” You shouted across the tiny airplane cabin but the lone flight attendant had her head turned as she peered through the open cockpit door. She didn’t hear your question and offered you no reassurances as she stood up, straightened her uniform, a tasteful pantsuit, and disappeared through the open doorway

“Fasten your seatbelt and prepare for landing, Hon,” she popped her head back out for the quick announcement and disappeared through the space again, leaving you completely alone to contemplate your own mortality and what you hoped would be a swift end. It felt impossible. You hadn’t even been able to see land from outside your window. It had been endless ocean for hours now. Maybe you wouldn’t even feel the impact. Maybe the adrenaline dump would protect your dying mind and body from the pain that came from with a water impact. Your knuckles were bright white as you gripped your armrests and you remembered that one episode of MythBusters that said the best position for a plane crash was with your body bent in two and your head tucked down between your legs.

The plane was shaking terribly. It was rattling and screeching. You were clenching down so hard on your teeth you half wondered if you might knock a few of them loose. You were praying to yourself with your eyes squeezed up tight and you wrapped your arms tightly around your thighs doing your best to hold yourself together even if this plane fell apart around you. There was a boom. You hoped you wouldn’t pee your pants but thought you might be justified if you did. The search and rescue team would understand as the collected your remains.

The roaring and trembling of this world around you creaked and moaned and swayed and eventually you could feel the change of speed deep inside your chest as everything, every groan and strain and clench came to a stop with a dramatic throwback on the landing that jostled your body and made you feel positively seasick.

The plane had stopped.

You were not dead.

“Ladies and Gent—” The pilot's voice broke through the tiny speaker over your head. You pulled your sweaty head up from your lap and looked through the still open cabin door as the man speaking paused for a moment to consider his words, “uhh…just lady, we welcome you to La Malinche Island. The temperature is a damp and balmy 89 degrees Fahrenheit and dropping as the winds pick up. Not sure what possessed you to fly to a tiny island in the Caribbean right before a hurricane hit but Barracuda Air does not want to know your business. We only care about our promise to you. Our promise of course, at Barracuda Air, with a … 0% flight cancellation rate, not counting that one incident with Jerry — be it rain or snow or sleet or hail, Barracuda Air does not care. Barracuda Air will get you there. Welcome to La Malinche. We hope you like 150 mile-per-hour winds and torrential rain.”

Hurricane? Is that was the roaring and terrifying shaking has been about? A goddamned hurricane?!

You’d checked the weather last week. There was zero mention of a hurricane. You pulled your cell phone out of your back pack and turned off airplane mode and you watched the cell service signal in the upper right hand corner spin and spin. It eventually gave up and gave you the saddest little no signal sign and you toggled airplane mode on and off again with the same terrible result.

But…but…

You were due.

“Thank you for flying Barracuda Air.” Your flight attendant was standing near the exit at the front of the plane; her voice just loud enough for you to hear it; her smile just wide enough for you to get the message.

You tried your phone one more time, this time turning the whole thing off and turning it on again while holding it up high above your head to be able to catch the signal better. You just needed a minute for it to come back on. You only needed one bar, one bar would be enough.

“Thank you for flying Barracuda Air.” This time her voice was closer. She was standing at your row now, her voice betrayed none of the urgency implied with the repetition. Her smile was still believable enough.

You looked down at the useless paperweight in your hands and outside of the window on the tarmac below, you watched the lone airport employee wheeling your checked bag away from the airplane. The wind whipped his rain jacket around his body fiercely in all directions and you swallowed down the very real sense of dread that was beginning to fill your stomach.

This was supposed to be a vacation. This was supposed to be paradise. It had been advertised as such in the brochure. The single’s retreat at the five star resort where only other eligible global singles of extremely high caliber would attend. The probably very expensive luxury retreat that was a gift from your very best friend in the entire world, Clare, who sold you on the idea that here — here you would surely find your soulmate. One that would be as delighted to meet you and you were to meet them.

Here you would be the most beautiful and captivating woman any of these sad, but not clinically; lonely, but not in a creepy way; brooding but not in a mean way; hurt and broken but not broken in some way that some sweet woman’s attention couldn’t fix — you’d be the most womanly woman any of these manly men had ever seen!

Definitely not the kind of man that still lived with an overbearing mother, but one who still loved his mother very much, but maybe lived far enough away from her that he didn’t have to listen to everything she told him anymore. Hell, maybe you’d get lucky and land a man with a dead mother. No, no, no. No need to be greedy.

But the kind of man — no, the kind of men who were very, very attractive.

They were going to be tall with clean skin and clean teeth and they’d be successful, but not too successful. They were smart, but not annoyingly so. Oh! And charming! But most importantly, they were men who would find you to be absolutely irresistible. These men were supposed to be waiting for you. They were going to be beside themselves when they got a load of you. They were going to flirt with you and call you sweetheart or darling with a southern drawl or and they would buy you drinks and feed you cheesy lines about how they’d never before seen a woman that held galaxies inside of her eyes like yours did.

“Ma’am,” a voice called to you, sharper than before, “you need to get off the plane. The airport is closing because of the storm. You can't stay here.”

You hadn’t even unbuckled your seat belt yet.

God forbid they give you a damn minute.

It was a disaster.

You quickly gathered all of your belongings. The flight attendant had pulled your carry-on bag down from the overhead bin and her smile had long since vanished as she held it out for you to take and get the hell off her plane already. You grabbed the handle, no longer grateful for her help. No longer thankful for the small bag of peanuts she’d fed you earlier or the two cans of soda she’d handed you hours ago. She was ushering you down the aisle, through the exit door, and had watched you navigate the scary stairs until you plopped your two feet right down into the cement of the tarmac belonging to the smallest airport you had ever visited in your entire life.

The wind came at you in waves. One second you were sure this whole hurricane thing had been exaggerated and the next your hair was taken and spun around your head, whipped into some sort of frenzied do as strands hit your cheeks like tiny, stinging whips. You did your best to grab ahold of it with one hand but lost your cardigan in the process. It flew a few feet and landed on the floor in a brown puddle of water beside the door with a hand-printed arrow directing you to open it for Baggage Claim.

You were an adult. You had been a responsible, self-sufficient adult for some years now. You had found yourself in situations that required you to navigate this cold cruel world by yourself before but as you reached down and picked up your sweater and watched the muck drip in slow, fat, thick drops from the once pristine knit fabric, you suddenly felt more alone than you’d ever felt in your entire life.

Behind you, far beyond this mystery puddle, the only one in this entire dry concrete hell; somewhere on that small runway you heard the Barracuda revving its engines for take off.

Maybe you weren’t due for anything good to happen in your life ever again. Maybe it was just going to be shit from now on.

Had you somehow brought all of this on yourself? Maybe it had been the bad thoughts you’d had. The ill wishes you’d genuinely hoped to fall on those who had done you dirty in your life. Your recent ex-boss, you’d hoped and prayed would face a bout of public uncontrollable diarrhea. Your ex-coworker who’d stolen work from you, lied about you and sabotaged you and who you believed led to you being fired, you hoped she would be hit by a city bus, not enough to kill her but you hoped at least three bones would be broken.

The ex boyfriend who cheated on you with your ex friend, you hoped the both of them would sail off into the sunset and be lost as sea, eaten by a whale or something scarier with suckers and sharp teeth.

And most recently, that friend of a friend, that charming, sweet, funny, and handsome man who would be absolutely perfect for you, according to Claire who set you both up — the blind date who not only stood you up, leaving you to wait for him for a whole hour at the fancy ass restaurant, but also, in some wacky attempt to tarnish your good name told all of your friends that you were in fact the one who flaked on the date. You could not imagine why he couldn’t have just come clean. Well you weren’t going to let him win. He was trying to play the victim when in fact you had been the loser who was stood up. You denied it earnestly. He maintained his lie and you both had been stuck in a bitter stalemate ever since. Any gathering of friends where he was scheduled to be there, you refused to attend. You heard through various sources that he had a similar reaction to the threat of your presence and this only fanned the flames even hotter. Any time his name was uttered in pleasant company you rolled your eyes and made snide remarks under your breath. Doh Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo. Chef Doh. Decorated and celebrated private chef, a genius with a knife and a frying pan. You wanted to vomit.

After a while the fight moved from only inside your own head to the real world. He would leave sarcastic replies to some of the things you said to your friends. Things you told them with love and respect would get a passive aggressive laughing reaction from him or some sort of contrary comment right below yours. You both evolved into taking little snips at each other in the comments of your mutual friends' social media posts and like the good friends they were, everyone of them politely ignored it.

Just, how dare he? There was nothing worse than men who lie. You hoped at the time that he would be exposed for the fake and liar that he was, although now as you wandered through this empty airport this punishment seemed not enough for your shitty mood. In this moment you hoped and prayed that he would have been the one trapped on a deserted island with a hurricane bearing down over his head. Even his name and profile picture filled you with an irrational rage. That sweet and innocent looking, fake ass motherf—

Wait.

Wait one goddamn minute.

Your forward movement abruptly stopped and you stood with your luggage in your hand on the sidewalk of an empty and deserted airport with no cell reception and no idea how to get to the hotel.

Wasn’t all this doom to my enemies wishing how you got yourself cursed by the universe? Was all of this really your own doing?

You took a step, trying to remember if the hotel was situated within walking distance of the airport. Trying to recall it was to the west or to the east or if maybe it was to the south.

This was a tiny island. Maybe it wasn’t that far. Maybe if you wandered around town someone might point you in the right direction and you wouldn’t be mugged or mudered.

You closed your eyes for a split second and smelled something crisp and funny in the air. You could feel the hairs on your arm standing on end and a feeling of panic surged through you as the first fat raindrops began to fall from the sky at the same time as an ear deafening boom sounded out over your head. It was so loud it shook the roof over your head.

You screamed and covered your head, taking several big steps back and away from the empty parking lot where the blinding flash of lightning must have struck.

There was a gross taste inside of your mouth. Your rational brain attributed it to the close lightning strike but you knew deep down what that taste really was.

It tasted like you might be about to make a deal with the devil. You shouted right out loud into the air above your head, “Doh Kyungsoo is great! I misunderstood him! He is a prime example of a man and a genuinely good person! I hope his pillow is always cold and his toast is never burnt!”

You knew it was silly. You were a silly lady.

Of course it was silly.

It wasn’t as if the skies would magically clear, the whipping winds would calm and five taxis would drive up each more eager than the last to drive you to your luxury resort for free.

You did hear something new and unexpected though. Something that had you spinning around to investigate.

There was a man standing behind you. He wore a clean crisp suit and a very wide and bright inviting smile on his face. He had cleared his throat. This respectable gentleman clearly had something to say to you.

“Yes?”

His smile widened with your acknowledgement, “Hello. My name is Mr. Chen. I’m the Concierge with Shifting Sands Resort, are you by chance Miss—” his eyebrows lifted and he extended a hand, palm up, the beginnings of your name formed on his lips.

“Oh my God, yes. I am her. She is me. Oh, thank you, thank you!”

His smile deepened and his eyes turned up into little moons on his pretty face and the relief that surged through you was complete and instantaneous.

“Might I take your bags, Miss?”

Was this man your savior? Would he have come to your rescue all along? Or was Doh Kyungsoo your karmic stabilizer?

You were loaded up and buckled in and well on your jolly way to your promised paradise of pampering and relaxation. Dare you wish for a handsome man or two desperately waiting to make your acquaintance?

Maybe you’d even settle for just one. One handsome and suave proper gentleman to spend the week with; to wine and dine with; to sweep you off your feet. Surely this entire trip wouldn’t be a complete waste. Surely you hadn’t dug yourself down that far deep yet.

Your driver had been maneuvering the big comfy van in silence up until now but you caught his kind eyes glance back at you in the rear view.

“Mr. Chen, please tell me some other people have showed up for this singles retreat.”

His eyes held on to yours for only a few seconds and his lips were pursing together in more thought than you figured was necessary.

“Ummm…” his voice trailed, “well…actually…”

His eyes drifted away from yours under the guise of watching the non existent traffic on this scenic road that, had it not started raining, might have been a beautiful drive.

You weren’t sure what kind of sacrifices the universe demanded. You wanted just one. You didn’t even ask for much, just another living breathing human male who was the complete opposite of that slimey, slandering, thought he was slicker than a bowl of shit, Doh Kyungsoo.

The car screeched to a halt and your seatbelt caught and firmly locked you into place, digging hard enough into your neck to leave a mark. The rain outside pelted the roof of the van, much harder now and Mr. Chen seemed to be breathing quite hard as he tripped the steering wheel tightly enough to turn his knuckles white.

“Miss, are you alright? I am sorry, this road is blocked. We will need to take another way around.”

Jesus. The near kiss with death had you gripping your seat very tightly and you closed your eyes.

That…that…ass— as lovely on the inside as on the outside, Doh Kyungsoo.

That saintly and angelic man.

That accurate and symmetrical and pragmatic and punctual, Doh Kyungsoo.

You could feel yourself running out of adjectives. What is the opposite of a rat bastard?

That legitimate, law-abiding, insured, and licensed to drive, Doh—

“Ahh, what were you asking? Other guests? Yes miss, of course. The singles retreat — well, we don’t have nearly the crowd we expected but there is at least one other guest who you should find most agreeable. He is very handsome and charming. All of the other staff members are positively enraptured by him already. Especially the ladies, but I have to admit I myself felt a bit of a flutter when he caught me in those big brown eyes of his.”

It worked. It fucking worked.

Son of a bi — son of a w-wise and gentle lady probably — what the hell did you know about his mother? She raised a f-fine excuse for a son, that much you knew. A real piece of work— err — art! A piece of art. A real, honest to god, adult male human being. You really needed to get that man out of your head. You could actually feel the first real dangerous slips into madness the more his name and his profile picture danced through your head.

You closed your eyes tight and you tried your absolute best to think about someone else. Anyone else. The mystery man who you were about to meet. The tall, dark, handsome, sweet and successful man who would sweep you off your feet the moment you met him.

The alternate route to the resort was down right pleasant. It was scenic and beautiful and you looked out the window as you drove the long way around, the very deserted road that took you along the breathtaking coastline. You continued the almost ritualistic positive compliments in your head Mr. Chen was chock full of his own compliments for the handsome and admirable guest who was to be your only other companion during this week’s retreat.

You were fine with that. Even if it didn’t turn into love — by the sounds of him and based on how Mr. Chen absolutely raved, you were sure the two of you would get along quite well and maybe even become good friends once this whole thing was over.

The fancy resort was as lovely and beautiful as the brochures had promised, yet your chest felt tight with apprehension. Something was wrong. There was nobody here. Mr. Chen profusely apologized for the shortness of staff due to the incoming storm which from the sounds of the serious news reports you could hear playing on the overhead television in the empty lobby, was already wrecking a neighboring island. The huge and scary category 4 hurricane which threatened to turn into a category 5 at any moment now and who’s outer bands were already knocking trees down outside and whipping rain fiercely against the windows. This wasn’t even the real storm and the wind and sheets of water hitting the window outside sounded so scary. It even sounded as if the building itself was moaning under the pressure of the wind outside. The longer you stood in this enormous and astonishingly empty building, it was becoming more and more evident that maybe you shouldn’t be here at all. Here you stood, your presence alone putting these people in danger. You, the only insane person who stubbornly refused to accept the reality of this storm. Not only would not be the relaxing and love connecting vacation you had been preparing for, but what if something really bad happened to you here? What if you died on this island? Fuck love, fuck men, fuck that man, Doh Kyungsoo in particular — what if you actually died here?

There seemed to be some sort of serious whispered discussion taking place between Mr. Chen and two other uniformed employees of the resort.

You weren’t being checked into your room. In fact, you still had your own bag in your hand and there wasn’t some moist young whippersnapper scooping your bags up to lead you to your room so you could snack on strawberries and cream and sip on champagne.

Someone made eye contact with you. There was a small regretful smile on her face and you caught the deep chest filling breath Mr. Chen took as he looked away from your curious face. It took him a moment of looking away before he exhaled, closed his eyes briefly to collect himself and the same rueful smile took over his face when he turned to come to you, taking several large steps to return to your side, he looked up into your face and carefully began to speak to you. His voice sounded grave and serious.

“Miss, I am,” he lifted a hand and laid his palm over his chest, “extremely, terribly sorry.” His eyes were sad, his eyebrows curved his face into a grimace, “I have received some bad news. The resort will have to close. We have lost power to all of the guest rooms. The ballroom was flooded, as it was closest to the ocean. The kitchens are down. It seems we are in an emergency situation due to the storm.”

This felt like a bad dream. Maybe you had fallen asleep on the plane and when you woke up it would be a bright sunny day in paradise like you’d been promised.

“We will all need to leave. The other guests have already been moved. I’m so sorry, Miss, of course the entirety of the cost of the stay will be refunded. We are prepared to offer a free week’s stay at any of our resorts for you and a guest to use at a time of your choosing. But right now we must go. The roads are beginning to flood and we can only go to the shelter at the highest point on the island. We have to move quickly before the storm surge.”

“Storm surge?” You could feel the panic and upset building inside of you. “Sh-shelter?” You knew it was evident in your voice. “The other guests were moved?” You looked outside the window. Anyone with any sense at all knew there was very real danger happening out there.

“Other guest. Sorry, there is only the one guest. I apologize but you both will need to bunk together in the barracks. The generators should last throughout the storm. There is no other place to go.” Mr. Chen was talking but you felt dazed. You were ushered into a different vehicle and the other staff members climbed in beside you. Mr. Chen was still talking about the place where you were being taken. Something about a room full of bunks, used during some historical war between two countries that didn’t exist anymore. Something about the man, the only other single from this god forsaken Singles Retreat. He was to be your bunk-mate. He, a complete stranger, was supposed to share the very large and spacious barracks with you. There would be ample space for you to spread out, as the space was designed for armies of 20 soldiers or more, but you were not to fear because Mr. Chen and his staff would be right next door should either of you need any assistance.

The road up the hill was bumpy and hectic. This vehicle was obviously well equipped to handle the rough trip, but you still found yourself jostled around, feeling seasick with the swaying back and forth and big bumps the wheels traveled over.

You began to think you might not make it. The queasiness from the ride had you closing your eyes and trying to breathe through it. Begging and pleading that you would not be sick inside this vehicle. You took deep steadying breaths through your nose, exhaling through your mouth, willing your overly sensitive stomach to calm down. The big truck soon began to slow and eventually crawled to a stop.

“I — I need to get out,” you mumbled just under your breath, unbuckling the seat belt and pushing yourself toward the door. You reached for it and pulled the handle, kicking hard with your feet. The rain was falling hard outside and you leaned over, breathing deeply as the raindrops quickly soaked your entire head.

You couldn’t meet him yet. Not like this. Not schrodinger's man of your dreams. Not fighting nausea while looking exactly like a drowned rat as you were babied by some kind hotel worker who probably shouldn’t be getting wet in the rain like this.

The cooling effects of the rain helped to calm the nausea and you felt a hand at your shoulder a moment before the deluge of rain falling over your head stopped. Someone had placed an umbrella over you. Someone was leaning into you; the staff woman from the hotel was talking to you.

“Miss, are you alright?” She rubbed a comforting warm palm over your back between your shoulder blades in slow and careful circles. You opened your eyes, noticing first the soft swell of what had to be a baby in her belly before you looked into her concerned face. She looked to be pretty far along too. She was probably due any week now. Her name tag said Sara and she had kind eyes.

You forced your shoulders back and pushed a smile upon your face. You worked for it and did your best to straighten out the expression on your face, gripping the stick of the umbrella and angling it so it covered more of her body. You’d be damned if you gave some expecting mother pneumonia just because you’d always had an overly sensitive stomach and the Barracuda Air pretzels were sitting funny.

“I’m okay. Just got a little carsick but it’s passed now that I’m out of the car. Let’s hurry inside before we get too wet.”

Your belongings were already rushed inside the drab, depressing, tan colored cement walled building that was to be your shelter for the next week or so and you rushed inside quickly with Sara stepping inside right behind you.

There was a click of the big heavy doors and aside from the two small windows next to the door, there wasn’t much in here for natural lighting. There was a musty smell in here and a thick layer of dust over most of the surfaces.

“I really am sorry that things have ended up this way, Miss.” Sarah waved hand back and forth in front of her face, waving away some of the dust in the air. She didn’t pause for long enough for you to absolve her of any guilt related to this messed up situation before she was speaking again, this time stepping further inside the space. There was a hallway up ahead that she turned into.

“If you could follow me, I’ll show you the room with the bunks and introduce you to Mr. Doh, our other guest. We changed all of the bedding so it’s clean and the space really is quite big.”

She was walking away from you as she kept taking. You felt a strange tickle along your scalp. A raindrop rolled down the back of your head, tickling its way down inside of your hair.

Did she say Mr. Doh? That same dream-like feeling that had been haunting you ever since you’d stepped off of that airplane returned.

Sara was turning a door handle and she had both of her hands pressing on a door.

“I’m sorry, what did you say his name is?”

“I’ll introduce you,” she smiled widely and leaned her head in closer to you as she dropped her voice, “He’s not that tall but he’s so, so, so handsome. He’s funny and witty too. I’m sure you’ll get along.” She said this last part with a genuine giggle of excitement. “I am just so excited!” She squealed. The eagerness in her face had a feeling of dread building inside of your belly. That stubborn queasiness you’d felt before returned.

The room was empty. Of course it was empty. Bunk beds lined each wall and a center aisle just wide enough for a person to pass through single file separated the rows of bunks and on one of the beds, the one closest to the door sat a black travel bag. A dripping rain jacket was hung over the metal frame of the upper bunk and whoever owned these items was not around.

“Oh, he was…just here…” Sara was spinning around, reacting to a sound, the sound of a door opening and your eyes followed to catch the movement of a person, a human, a man as he emerged from what you imagine was a bathroom. His head covered with a small white towel and a tanned arm rubbed swiftly over his straight black hair. On his torso, he wore only a simple white t-shirt and the fabric was too thin. The rain shower he’d been caught in made the shirt nearly transparent.

It only took a moment.

You knew what was going on.

It took less than a second for your eyes to touch deep inside of his big round brown eyes and you knew in an instant; you knew exactly who this Mr. Doh was, this esteemed and honored guest of the Shifting Sands Resort, you knew who he was and you knew exactly what this was — this man who stood in front of you; this man who was not very tall but so, so, so, and yes she was right, so handsome — because he was very handsome; even you could admit that, of course he was.

You wouldn’t have agreed to that idiotic blind date with him in the first place if you hadn’t found him to be incredibly attractive, with his clean skin, soft as hell full lips, achingly deep brown and oh so judgemental eyes, sexy and strong back, bulging arm muscles; his goddamned smart ass comments, and annoying as shit filthy lies that he told to tarnish your reputation with at least four good friends — this man who dropped the towel slowly as his eyes looked into your own stunned ones, this was that man; the one and only, Doh Kyungsoo.

You knew exactly who he was. The rat bastard, Doh Kyungsoo and you knew exactly what this situation was.

You were dead.

You had died in that airplane; gone down in the Caribbean Sea with the rest of the Barracuda Air flight and cabin crew.

You were dead and this was hell.

If your face betrayed the shock you felt right now, Sara didn’t notice. She must not have been paying any attention to you at all. She simply giggled as she gave her sweet introduction of you, raising a hand out palm up as she called out your name and recited some lame facts about you and what kind of man you were looking for in a relationship. Facts that you’d haphazardly typed out during the registration process for this Singles Retreat from hell, she said them all with a wide smile and a small silent clap of excitement as she got the words out.

Sara recited from memory, straight from your own mindless words, “Her ideal man is someone who is funny and witty. Someone who is just the perfect height for plenty of eye contact — and of course a man smells nice and is handsome.” Her hand motioned over and around his pretty face as if she simply could not help herself.

His eyes were wide with just as much genuine surprise in them as you had in yours.

Sara continued her introductions, bringing that palm right back around in front of his chest, at an even level with the nipples you could just make out through the sheer fabric of the wet t-shirt, and she proudly declared, “this is Doh Kyungsoo. His ideal woman is someone who’s as kind as she is honest and trustworthy. She is someone with an iron stomach who isn’t afraid to try new foods and explore new adventures with him.”

You felt too stunned to move. There was no way this was really happening. You felt the room spinning and it reminded you a lot of sitting with your head down between your knees as that airplane fell out of the sky. The same feeling as bouncing around the back seat of that off road truck that brought you up this hill to this bunker out of the immediate threat of the hurricane that blasted outside and into the waiting arms of a much more agonizing threat.

Sara had finished her introductions. Neither of you moved.

He was the first to break the silence.

“What the hell are you doing here?” His question was blunt. He hadn’t bothered with appearances or with how abrupt and callous his question was, or with how full of disgust that expression on his face might appear to Sara.

He never once considered just how far down her shoulders might deflate to have the cold hard truth splashed in her face. That not only did not you check a single one of his boxes, but you might very well be the last woman on this entire earth that he might fall in love with.

That he’d rather sneak out the back door after catching a glimpse of you waiting for him, all gussied up with your cheap drug store makeup and little black dress from the clearance racks at Target — a specimen so far below his level that he couldn’t even spare you the humiliation of faking a smile all the way to dessert before ghosting you the next day; instead he’d rather leave you stranded and embarrassed. Having to foot the bill yourself for your three glasses of white wine and no entree. Having to suffer through the pitiful glances of the waitstaff as they took turns asking if you were “still waiting for someone,” all the while knowing you’d been abandoned and publicly marked as unlovable.

“Me?!” You were too blindsided for tact. Your indignation at his bluntness filled you with just as many questions as he must have had in that pretty, stupid head of his.

“Why you?”

Once the first question was out, the second came out with gusto. He balked and his eyebrows furrowed. His fist clenched around the towel he was holding. You reached down deep within your diaphragm and the words came out too loudly.

You couldn't help the anger you felt. This was supposed to be your Prince Charming. This was supposed to be paradise. You opened your mouth and you let it fly. The frustrations from the trip so far, from the sham of a blind date, from being so unethically and undeservedly fired from your job, that fucking hurricane outside that stole the 5-star resort from under your feet and plopped you down inside this musty concrete prison from the 1940s and the words came out of you as if you threw them hard right into the eye of that hurricane outside.

“Why is it you?! Why are you the Mr. Doh that she is introducing me to?!”

“Because that is my name!!” His voice level rose higher and you actually flinched at the sudden volume he used. This motherfucker. How dare he shout at you. And in front of Sara. The poor girl took two steps away from the both of you and covered her belly with both of her arms.

“Why are you yelling?!” You took a step into him and shouted right back, right into his face. You needed answers for his awful behavior. He did not retreat. You could smell the light cologne he wore from this close.

“Because you yelled at me first!!”

His clenched fist gripping the towel tight was lifted, his eyes were wide, and his voice had so much more power than yours ever could that you nearly cowered. You almost backed down and backed off. Almost. He was clearly just as stubborn as you were.

Also the words he said took only one second to sink in and your next bit of anger got caught inside of your throat, refusing to come out.

Damn. He was right. You did yell first. It was you who did it first.

You’d just been so caught up in your awful mood that seeing him standing in here, knowing that what this man already knows about you would basically ruin your chances of finding any other man here to trick into falling madly in love with you. What if he told them all about your messy life. You hadn’t bothered concealing any of your recent failures on social media. You’d obsessively scrolled through his own profiles often enough to know that not only was this man a work-a-holic, but he was a big ol’ nerd. You figured he had done the same with you since some of his recent digs at you in Claire’s comments had been about you being recently liberated from your job. You’d been in his circle for long enough to know plenty about him, you were sure he had all of the dirt on you. You stepped back and away from him. From a normal distance he didn’t smell so damned nice.

“Oh I did, didn’t I?” you said in a much more normal tone, “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

Your apology was as abrupt as the yelling had been, but it seemed to have a bigger effect on him. His eyes seemed to grow softer or perhaps just more confused and he blinked rapidly as his focus touched lightly around all edges of your face.

“Sara, not this one,” you pulled your eyes away from his face, not quite finding the conviction to be able to fully look away from him, but your words were at least directed away from him and onto the woman who stood three feet away from you with what you almost thought was a fully enthralled expression on her face.

“Do you have any others?”

Kyungsoo made a sound. It was a scoff mixed with a grunt. It was disgruntled. You pulled your mouth into the sweetest fake smile you could manage and directed all of that sweetness at him.

“I mean the room, of course.”

“Sara, I think I’d also like to switch to another room. This one seems to have something fundamentally wrong with it.” Kyungsoo said without taking his eyes off of your face, “it’s not for me. This place seems undeservingly high maintenance and might even have some nasty pests hidden in the walls. I bet they really come out at night.”

Sara was silent for long enough for you to actually need to look at her. When you did, you smelled trouble. Sara was smiling. It was the kind of smile you got sometimes when you found a great drama to watch and you knew that these two wacky characters were about to thoroughly ruin each other's lives before they fell in love.

Her eyes were bouncing back and forth between you and Kyungsoo and with each pass her smile only widened.

“Sara.” You said in a flat tone. You had seen enough romantic comedies to know what she was thinking. “Sara, no. Not in a million years.”

She was giggling and nodding her head now.

“There are no other rooms.” She said with a voice three octaves higher than normal and she was giggling as she said it. “This is the only room.”

“You can’t even leave because there’s a hurricane outside.” She was outright laughing.

“I have to go tell Mr. Chen everything,” she whispered to herself and she was rushing toward the door, pulling it open with all of her might and vanishing through the opening much faster than you thought a woman in her delicate condition should be allowed to move.

“Sara, I swear to god,” you shouted down the dark hallway that she disappeared down, “Sara!” But she was long gone and behind you the huffing and puffing, very put-out man was grabbing every single bit of his belongings from his bed and moving them all down to the bed at the farthest end of this enormous room, putting himself and his itty bitty towel and his sheer white t shirt with his visible nipples physically as far away from you as possible.

It was actually funny to see him throwing such an obvious fit.

“I can see your nipples through your wet t-shirt, you know.” You said it under your breath but not at all trying to not be heard.

“I’m not the only one in this room with a wet t-shirt, Princess. Between the two of us, your nipples are far more eventful than mine,” he sing-songed back, using as much sarcasm as he could manage with the pejorative he used as a nickname for you.

You gasped covering your chest with both hands — the liar. The damned liar. There was no way. But when you looked down, you could very clearly make out nearly every detail of the entire shape and outline of your breasts, even the dark circles of your nipples in the center stood out. Cold and wet with your precious cardigan long tossed in the trash can back at the airport after it got wet in the puddle and you left with only the sheer bra you stupidly decided to wear under this light pink colored shirt and the hope that maybe, maybe this was one of those countries that didn’t extradite murderers and you might get away with killing him in his sleep tonight.

Links: Part 1, Part 2

[marshmallow-phd]

Genre: Regency Gothic AU

Pairing: EXO x Reader

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

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5

**

Lightning lit up the thin curtains covering the two small windows on either side of the carriage. Thunder rumbled and you felt it deep within your chest. Tugging your silk cloak closer, you closed your eyes and prayed that the driver would get you through the storm. There was no one to comfort you, to reassure you that a little rain and noisy sky wouldn't delay your journey.

Your father had insisted you take your sister or even a friend, but the two day’s journey didn’t  seem consequential enough to need a companion. Besides, what would they have done once you arrived? Your elderly aunt had only asked for you. From what you could decipher from her letter, she needed you to be a companion as she traveled to the southernmost coastal town. Apparently, it was now the ultimate fashion to travel to for the summer. Just the idea of rolling waves made your stomach churn. But what was worse was who else would be there–

The carriage jolted to the right. You spread out your arms, only barely catching yourself from falling to the floor. No sane person would have endured such dangerous weather. This storm had come from nowhere. Skies blue and cloudless as you had ever seen bid you farewell in the late morning. Most of the day's journey had been uneventful. Then the joyful light faded. Thunder shook the walls of the carriage. Rain pounded on the roof. When would you reach the inn? Bile rose up in your throat, burning the sensitive tissue as the carriage continued to rock violently. The horses neighed over the sounds of the storm. 

The carriage shifted hard to the left. And kept falling. You slammed into the door, nearly opening it with the force. You didn't know what was happening. The floor was now the wall and the wall the floor. A downward momentum made it impossible to stand. Screams ripped at your throat.

Then it stopped. 

The rain continued to pour and the thunder roared on but the carriage was still. Your legs wobbled as you slowly stood. With your palms, you pushed open the door. The thin wooden panel clapped against the outside of the carriage. Immediately you were pounded by the storm. Large drops pelted your face, obscuring your vision. It was dark. You could tell that much. And there were trees. In every direction. 

You climbed out of the carriage, calling for the driver. Your feet slipped in the mud, but you managed to keep your balance–for now. The mud was thick and sticky as you trudged to the front of the carriage.

 No. No, no, no. Both of the horses were gone. And so was the driver. Somehow, the carriage had fallen down a hill or ravine. With a storm this terrible, you needed to get to higher ground or risk possibly being carried away–or drowning. Clawing and digging your hands and feet into the soaked dirt, you climbed the hard incline back to the road. 

Once you could make out the road, you called for the driver again. No answer. He was nowhere to be found. You needed to find shelter. The storm gave no promise of letting up. You wouldn't survive the night in this forest, even if you went back into the carriage. The only choice was to find sanctuary. You stared in the direction you believed you came from. Nothing but trees and darkness. You turned to the other choice. All the same–wait. 

There was something... when lightning brightened up the sky. Your heart began banging in your ears. Spires, towers. Not trees. It was some distance away, but it was shelter nonetheless. 

With near tears in your eyes, you picked up your skirts–your fingers numb from the cold–and hurried towards the castle that could be your saving grace. 

*****

The manor was calm tonight. Odd, considering the amount of bodies roaming around these haunted halls. Only the beautiful storm outside and Chanyeol's sorrowful melody from the piano broke the silence. Jongin had draped himself over one of the arm chairs as he inspected the wine mixture within his goblet. The taste was… adequate. The cellar would need replenishing soon.

In the corner, a rather lax game of cards covered the small, round table. Minseok smirked at his winning hand. The faded wooden chips with bits of white painted around the edges were piling up in front of Yixing, who leaned back carelessly, sure of his next win. Little did either of them know that the youngest among them had a little... trick his sleeve. As the quickest, Sehun had perfected sleight of hand long ago. None had caught him yet.

A fire roared, coaling the usually gray and brown room in flickering orange. With how close he stood near the fireplace, Kyungsoo's silhouette was visible through his loose shirt. He leaned his palms on the mantel and let the warmth of the flames engulf him. Warmth was all they could feel after all these years. It could be an addiction so strong it was tempting to throw himself into the fire. 

Junmyeon joined him at the fireplace, leaning his shoulders against the brick. The bite of the edge hardly registered in his mind. Pain of that measure... it was only a ghost that had nearly crossed over. 

“Such strong thoughts for a night like this.”

Kyungsoo didn’t look from the fire, but raised a questioning eyebrow in response. 

Junmyeon shrugged a single shoulder. “I can’t read minds, but it's obvious you're turning something over more times than a praying rock.”

“It's the same thoughts,” Kyungsoo murmured in his strange, monotone voice. “Always the same thoughts.”

“One day you will have to let it go,” Junmyeon sighed. “This is our existence now. And forever will be.”

“Acceptance of the present doesn’t erase the past.”

“But it does make the present more enjoyable.” The red liquid sloshed against the rim of the goblet as Jongin draped an arm over Kyungsoo’s shoulders. He wore a mischievous smile. A clear indicator of his true intention. 

Junmyeon shook his head. “We’re not going out tonight. There’s nothing out and about in this storm.” Hunting in these conditions would wield no trophies. Tomorrow would be a better night. 

“Jun’s no fun tonight,” Jongdae teased as he and Baekhyun emerged from the hallway. 

“If you want to go out in this mess,” Junmyeon waved towards the front door. “Be my guest. Just don’t you dare get mud on the rug–”

Bang! Bang! Bang!

“Help! Please! Help!”

Nine pairs of eyes snapped to the echoing sound. None moved. 

Bang! Bang! 

BANG!

One of the double doors burst open and a figure fell to the floor, landing on its knees and palms. It looked up. A flash of lightning illuminated the face.

The face of a beautiful young girl. 

*****

Your knees vibrated when they hit the wooden floor. Water fell from your loose hair that clung to your cheeks. The chances of  the door opening when you pushed on the handle had been low–yet the barrier that kept you victim to the storm fell open and you crashed downward with it. 

Greeting you in this strange hall were several men, their jaws hanging open in a mirror of your own surprise. More men appeared from a side parlor, curious as to who dared intrude on their evening. One, two, three–you counted nine total. Nine men. This was not ideal–a bit terrifying, really–but you didn't have a choice. The storm raged outside.

"P-please," you stammered past chattering teeth "The st-storm overturn-overturned the carriage.” 

The men stayed silent as they exchanged unreadable glances. One raised a questionable brow. 

"Jongdae, go run a bath," ordered the man closest to you. One of the shorter residents nodded and disappeared into the darkness that led into the rest of the manor. 

That's what this place was. A grand old manor, not a castle. Isolated. When you'd first run through the rusted iron gate, you'd feared it abandoned. A long dormant instinct whispered that you might have been better off if it had been. 

The first man approached, each motion slow, deliberate, and hauntingly graceful. He crouched down in front of you and captured your frightened stare. The fear in you began to melt away. He was… beautiful. Obsidian fell over his forehead in gentle waves. His tunic was of a fashion your grandfather would have worn. There was something strange about this man–all of these men. Something... different. 

"Let's get you warmed up." He held his hand out and you were up on your feet before you even realized your fingers were resting on his. "Don't worry," he murmured. "You're safe here. My name is Junmyeon." 

You nodded, somehow believing him, but unsure if you should. Through your violent chattering, you managed to stammer out your name in response. 

Bang! 

You jumped at the sudden noise. One of the other men had somehow appeared behind you to shut the door you'd fallen through. 

"Thank you, Yixing," the man beside you said. The one named Yixing nodded and then shifted his eyes to you. “Come.” A hand pressed into the space between your shoulder blades and guided you down the hall, leaving a trail of mud in your wake.

The man led you down several halls until you reached an unoccupied bedroom. Red blankets draped the oversized bed. Matching curtains hung limply from the canopy. All of the wood was a dark sort, rich in color but not quite welcoming like other, brighter woods. 

Jongdae emerged from another door on the other side of the bedroom. Steam rolled out after him as if it were following him for its next set of orders. “Anything else?” he asked drily. 

“No, thank you.”

Jongdae strolled the from the room without a glance either of you and closed the door behind him. Your breath hitched in your throat. The two of you were… alone. It wasn’t appropriate. It was…

You looked to the man still with you, fear causing your heart to pound painful against your chest. You tugged your cloak closer to you, but it was soaked from the rain. Shivers violently raced down your arms and spine. The man didn’t seem to notice as he walked over to the dresser and opened the top drawer. He pulled out a long white cloth. 

“These should suffice for tonight.” He held up the cloth for you to see. A nightgown. An old one by the cut of it, though thankfully it hadn’t been devoured by moths or mice. “If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to ask.”

You nodded. “Thank you.” 

He visibly suppressed a laugh at your small voice and waved you into the adjoining bathroom. Taking the nightgown, you tried your best to avoid his gaze. You scurried inside and shut the door. 

*****

Junmyeon smirked at your mousy state. It was understandable why you were so frightened. The women of this period were warned of being alone with a man. And now you were alone with nine. 

Nine very dangerous men. 

The proper action for him to take was to leave your room now that you were safe inside the bathroom, but his feet didn’t move. Somehow, the storm had stranded you in their forest. What had happened to the driver, he wondered. Surely a gentlewoman such as yourself was not controlling the carriage. And yet, you were all alone. Circumstances were… ideal.

A small hiss echoed in the bathroom. It stretched out, along with the sound of sloshing water. Junmyeon frowned. 

Hm.

He stood there for a few minutes more, listening to you sigh as your skin grew used to the scalding water. The sound of soap scraping against skin reached his ears, followed by more sloshing water. Soon, you would be getting out of the tub. Time to leave. 

He emerged from the bedroom, careful to close the door as quietly as possible. Everyone had gathered out in the hallway since they were too curious about their visitor to go about their night. Junmyeon found Jongdae blending in with the cluster. He glared at him as he hissed, "The water was too hot." 

Jongdae merely shrugged. Why would he care about water possibly being too hot? It would never hurt him. 

On the opposite end of the group, Yixing cleared his throat. "What are we going to do with her?"

Junmyeon glanced at the door behind him. There was only one best option, for all their sakes. "Tomorrow morning, we will send her on her way." 

The eruption was instant. 

“Enough!”

In an instant, the hissing ceased. 

Baekhyun huffed and folded his arms against his chest, collapsing against the wall. Jongin scoffed. "Such a waste." 

“A waste that will keep this household from tearing itself apart,” Junmyeoun countered. It was an outcome none of them wanted. No one wanted to cause a fight, but resisting was difficult. The temptation was great. The quicker you left, the better off they would all be. 

"Do you really think it’ll end so well?" Minseok’s mocking comment hung in the air. Silent agreements rippled through the air. 

Junmyeon looked to Kyungsoo, whose answer was to look away. "No one touches her," he ordered. They all would try, he knew. But their strength would only get them so far. He stared down a few of them especially, so they knew he meant it.

Sehun pushed off the wall with a roll of his eyes. "Just get her out of here so I can get some peace." 

Junmyeon started to call after him but was interrupted by a soft thud from the room behind him. Confused, he opened the door to find you lying on the floor.

[keehomania]

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ masterlist

bangtan sonyeondan (방탄소년단)

horror shorts (공포 단편) (16+)

╰┈➤ kim namjoon (김남준)

successors (후계자) (nsfw)

troublemaker (트러블) (nsfw)

under the moon (달 아래)

under the moon 2 (달 아래 2) (nsfw)

professor (교수님) (nsfw)

╰┈➤ kim seokjin (김석진)

business proposal (제안서) (nsfw)

spoiled (스포일드) (nsfw)

spoiled 2 (스포일드 2) (nsfw)

╰┈➤ min yoongi (민윤기)

frostbite (동상) (nsfw)

frostbite 2 (동상 2) (nsfw)

el dorado (엘도라도) (nsfw)

a little older (더 나이든) (nsfw)

BONES & ALL (본즈 앤 올) (DRABBLE) (16+)

╰┈➤ jung hoseok (정호석)

feel the rhythm (리듬 느껴) (nsfw)

heartbeat (심장박동) (nsfw)

l’espoir (희망) (nsfw)

╰┈➤ park jimin (박지민)

ghost of you (너의 유령) (nsfw)

tempted (유혹) (nsfw)

savior (구세주) (nsfw)

backrooms (백룸) (nsfw)

╰┈➤ kim taehyung (김태형)

accomplice (공범) (nsfw)

teach me (가르쳐줘) (nsfw)

hello, sidney (안녕, 시드니) (nsfw)

three words (세 마디) (nsfw)

REBUKE (책망) (DRABBLE) (nsfw)

╰┈➤ jeon jungkook (전정국)

underground (지하) (nsfw)

nevertheless (알고있지만) (nsfw)

cold case (미제 사건) (nsfw)

teotw (the end of the world) (세상의 끝) (nsfw)

roses (장미) (16+)

MORE MORE MORE (더 더 더) (DRABBLE) (16+)

neo culture technology (네오 컬처 테크놀로지)

╰┈➤ lee taeyong (이태용)

smile for me (웃어줘)

therapeutic (테라퓨틱) (nsfw)

bubu’s a sub lol (DRABBLE) (nsfw)

╰┈➤ jeong jaehyun (정재현)

faded (사라졌다) (nsfw)

twisted (DRABBLE) (REQ) (nsfw)

╰┈➤ mark lee (마크리)

BBF (DRABBLE) (nsfw)

reader w/ big tits (nsfw) (REQ)

this is not a love story (nsfw) (REQ)

do as i say (nsfw) (REQ) (DRABBLE)

sweetheart (nsfw) (REQ) (DRABBLE)

practice (nsfw) (REQ) (DRABBLE)

bad taste (nsfw) (REQ) (DRABBLE)

come back home (집에 돌아와) (16+)

╰┈➤ johnny suh (서영호)

FRIENDS (DRABBLE) (nsfw)

FRIENDS (EXTENDED) (nsfw)

╰┈➤ wong kunhang (黄冠亨)

SWITCH-UP (nsfw) (REQ) (DRABBLE)

╰┈➤ xiào déjùn (肖德俊)

sweet home (nsfw) (REQ) (DRABBLE)

✧.* taking requests for boy groups i stan (bts, nct, p1harmony, stray kids, shinee, txt, seventeen, got7,) and for groups i'm fond of (zb1, ateez, enhypen, exo, bnd, the boyz)

✧.* taking requests for girl groups i stan (red velvet, kara, girls' generation, twice) and girl groups i'm fond of (blackpink, aespa, ive, new jeans)

✧.* taking requests for characters from kdramas and regular shows i enjoy (the heirs, wwwsk, love next door, penthouse, the glory, scarlet heart, lovely runner, doctor slump, outer banks, shameless)

✧.* taking requests for any and all genders, races, ethnicities, etc. please be mindful of what themes and plots you incorporate! i'll gladly include nsfw themes, as long as the person requesting is 18 and over. with that being said, don't request some freak shit ik damn well i'm not gonna write abt keeho pissing in ur ass!!

[bbhfanfics]

Baekhyun Fanfics (aff)

GIF CREDIT Links in Green - Completed fanfics.

Links in Red - Incomplete/Not updated for a long time.

Links in Blue - Ongoing fanfics with regular updates.

Links in Pink - Ongoing fanfics with irregular updates.

Baekismet || Amorous Designs || Sleeping into Darkness || The Third Bride || His Plus-One Dilemma || Resonant || Ephemeral || 56% || Flirt 'n Flair || Straight To Hell || Distant Torment || There's Magic in You || Light Years || Finding Atlantis || Weeping Monsters || Crescendo || Bride of the Virtuous || Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea || The Color Red || R U Ridin'? || all the time in the world || Transit of Venus || Young & Clockwork (Sequel) || Between Day and Night || here's a fact, hating someone is exhausting || Blooming Day || Just one night || Meet Me At Sundown || CARUSO || Message in a Bottle || Nothing like us || Redamancy || Privacy || Mess We Made || Irreplaceable || 7 || Mellifluous || The Melody of His Heart || Touch It For Real || Scribble on my Skin || Strawberry Champagne on Ice || Feel it ||

Last Updated On - 15th October, 2024

[avianyuh]

Dating Baekhyun

Would constantly be singing

Around the house

In the car

You'd hear him singing while he was taking a shower

And you never complain because...have you HEARD that man sing?

Baekhyun make you laugh all of the time

Not very serious

The type to crack jokes if you were venting to him about a bad day

Especially if you started to cry

I think he'd be a great hugger

Gives the warmest, safest feeling hugs

Just a total sweetheart all around

Constantly cooks for you

He loves to eat so he'd love cooking with you and for you

Baekhyun would love to go out to eat or get takeout

Always wants to try new places

Plays video games with you

If that's what you like to do in your free time, that's how you'd spend your weekends

You'd be each other's support systems.

RATED R BELOW

Dunno why but I get he sense he'd be a 'sub'

Like he just seems like a really soft person, doesn't seem like the bossy type lmao

Here's my proof:

Is this the face of a dom?

I don't think so

ALL of the affection and attention that could possibly be given...WILL be given

Will be shy after

Like I mentioned earlier, he will crack jokes during and after

A/N: Sorry this was kind of short, still feeling a bit blocked. I have another month of classes and have some exams coming up so posts might be a bit behind. I'll probably be back up and running by May. BUT that doesn't mean I won't be posting. I'll probably do more of these BF posts since they're quick to write and you guys seem to like them.

[dilxcc]

hellooo!! can i request some boyfriend! kai headcanons?💘

boyfriend!jongin headcanons

boyfriend!jongin x reader

okay trust me when i say that he loves you to the moon and back

we all know how much of a hardworker he is but he would drop everything the second you said that you miss him

youre craving something but feel too lazy to buy or make it?

he'll make it or buy it for you.

when you feel like youre so tired and couldnt lift a finger?

dont worry, hes here to help you with everything

you suddenly want something but doesnt have the money to buy it?

he'll buy it for you

what if you guys had a fight?

he'll be pouting the whole time but try his best to be matured

when youre both finally cooled down, he will talk and say that hes sorry

also cuddles!!!

i think hes a very touchy person

if youre going out together, i think he would wrap an arm around your waist

if youre walking, he likes it when you link your arms together

but if you dont want to, you can always hold hands

but what if you dont want any of it?

fine, he understands you but he WILL make a face

personally, i think hes a REALLY jealous person

probably would ignore you or confront you if hes jealous (its a 50/50 chance)

he likes seeing you wear his clothes

dating him would be an experience

you guys would be the most fashionable couple ever

also not to forget how the whole exo members will tease him about you every chance they get

[whatudowhennooneseesyou]

Kinktober Requests

Hello! I have decided to attempt Kinktober this year and am taking requests early.

I will be collaborating with a few artists and in the process of doing that now.

And if any writers want to collaborate with me! Please send me a DM! The more the better :)

How Requests Work:

Will be open for Ateez and Stray Kids For Now- if another collaborator wants to include another band- then we'll include it!

18+ people are only allowed to submit request

Moots and named blogs will take priority over anonymous blogs.

Enter my ask box with a simply idol+ 1 Kink.

1. Lee Know + Corruption @lino-jagiyaa

2. Hongjoong + Bondage @whatudowhennooneseesyou

3. Yeonjun+ Praise @anyamaris

4. Mingi+ Feminisation @whatudowhennooneseesyou

5. Hyunjin+ Ice Play @hwajin

7. Yunho X Stalker/Yandere @whatudowhennooneseesyou

6. Mommy!Seonghwa + Food Play @whatudowhennooneseesyou

8. Wooyoung+ Pussy Slapping @wooyoungmybelovedhusband

9. Mingyu+ Dollification @gyuhanniescarat

10. Kim Seokjin+ Aftercare @whatudowhennooneseesyou

11. Woosan X Alien Au @ja3hwa

12. Lee Know X Candle Play @hwajin

13. Felix X Auralism @stardragongalaxy

14. Seonghwa X Hongjoong x Punishment @stardragongalaxy

15. Sooyeon X Deepthroating @tinyidle

16. Mingi+ Collarring @ja3hwa

17. Yuqi + Begging @tinyidle

18. Seonghwa + Biting @ja3hwa

19. Jongho X Virginity @whatudowhennooneseesyou

20. Jungwon + Topping From The Bottom @theysaidhush

21. Jongho X Dry-humping @ddeonghwassimp

22. Clothed Sex X San @changbinslovelylegs

23. Yeosang X Lingerie @anyamaris

24. San + CNC @stardragongalaxy

25. Bang Chan+ Cockwarming @whatudowhennooneseesyou

26. Baekhyun + Orgasm Denial @anyamaris

27. Bang Chan+ Hongjoong+ Double Penetration @justaaveragereader

28. Wooyoung+ Breathplay @changbinslovelylegs

29. Mommy!Seonghwa+ Exhibitionism @whatudowhennooneseesyou

30. Bang Chan+ Body Workship @memoiresofaneternaldreamer

31. Ateez x Bukkake x Stray Kids @justaaveragereader

[soobadnoonecanstopher]

Rat Bastard - Part 9

Pairing: You x Kyungsoo 

Rating: M (Mature Smut)

Word Count: 9300

Warnings: There were too many beds, Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Idiots to Lovers, Angst, Potentially Triggering Sexual Content, The Reckoning, why do even have these condoms

Tag: @ilovemyapopbaby

Links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10

You wanted to run away. 

You wanted to hide away. 

You tried your best to do it and you got as far as the first step off of the front concrete patio of this old storm shelter. The ground below that step was filled with water and the first rash step you’d taken down filled your shoe with filthy muddy water that you sunk down into. Its suction pulled you down deep enough to feel the mud squishing in between your toes. With the next step, the thick mud kept your shoe. You abandoned the other one for the sake of your balance and retreated back up onto the very last step, keeping your presence of mind enough to rinse the mud off your feet. Your shoes would be lost. 

You only needed a moment. A few moments maybe and you’d get it under control. You didn't have to be crying right now. But it was hard. Your pride was so hurt. Your heart ached and your stomach burned. You felt like you’d given too much away with the question you'd asked him and you felt humiliated by his response -- his non-response. 

It was another rejection. Was that four now? Were you really so pathetic that you kept doing the same thing again and again with the exact same result? There was something wrong with you. You swiped quickly at your cheeks and cleared your throat, hiccuping halfway through the breath you tried to take. You didn’t need to be crying right now. 

He hadn’t seen you crying yet. He didn't have to know you felt like this. You could get it back under control, pull your chin up and walk back in there with a cool smile, and act like nothing could hurt you. 

You didn't have to ruin the night. 

You’d moved from the front step now, away from the door. You just needed a few more moments, before you could stop. You found a corner away from the door, not even that visible from the door. It was already dark outside and there were no lights out here. You leaned against the wall here and lifted your hands to wipe roughly at the wetness that still stubbornly fell from your eyes and you heard it. The squeak of the door knob, the heavy metal door scraping as it was pushed open, and the silence that followed that sound. He would not see you and he would leave, satisfied that he had searched the space thoroughly enough. 

You did your best to breathe quietly but your nose sniffles and hiccups betrayed you. 

He didn’t have to come and see you this way. He could just turn back around and you could promise to be back when it had passed. You could show him only the good side.

The sound of his footsteps came anyway and you closed your eyes and held your breath and when those footsteps rounded the corner he was here. 

You inhaled a breath through your mouth and it fought through the stutter in your throat and your eyes felt compelled by his arrival.

Kyungsoo stood just at the corner, his searching eyes zeroed in on you here and his feet stopped moving when he realized he had found you. His face was blank for the first half-second after finding you. Before he looked at you and his eyes adjusted to the darkness out here. The shift in him felt dangerous. After that first second of watching you, it happened so quickly, that you saw the recognition in his eyes, the shift to knowing; you had been discovered; your upset was known. You were horrified. He could see too much. You had run. You had been crying. His rejection had wounded you. 

His balance shifted with the realization that rolled through his entire body and he pulled his head back, exhaled roughly into the air above his head with a growl, and his hand roughly ran over the length of his face from forehead to chin. 

He moved then in one fluid motion with three steps and his hands lifting up to reach for you when he moved through the dark to the spot where you hid away from him. 

The moment he was close enough to touch you, his hands landed on either side of your wet face. 

The look in his wide eyes was manic, something was wrong with him, and you flinched the moment his hot fingertips first touched your flesh. He was gripping your face and you felt the surprise crest up hot when he pulled you roughly into him, into his parted lips. 

He kissed you. His mouth collided with yours with a roughness; a demanding force. He was kissing you but this kiss felt so different. You felt the wrong kind of desperation in this kiss. There was too much emotion in it; the wrong kind of emotion. He was upset. Maybe as upset as you had been while you hid away and cried. You could feel so much of his pain in this kiss. 

His mouth was hot and he pushed his sweetened tongue between your lips, pushing against your own tongue, pulling back only to suck and bite down on your lip. He moved again, stepping hard into you so you could feel the hot flush of his body temperature and your hands, your hands lifted, gripping at the air around you, unable to grab ahold of anything and too scared to grab ahold of him, scared that you might not even be allowed to touch him with as upset as he felt. 

He pulled away for half a second and you gasped for air. 

“Is this what you want from me?” His voice was rough. You squeezed your eyes closed, feeling fresh tears rolling down your cheeks, wetting his hands that still held your face, “Do you want to feel how desperately I want you? Is this fun for you? If you want me to fuck you, I will fuck you -- that’s all you were after, right?”

His hand moved and he reached for one of your hands, pulling it down to touch the rigid heat you felt between his legs as his rough mouth moved from your lips down to your neck. 

He felt so different. He felt wrong. Yet you felt shame for how your body was responding to him and the first open-mouth gasp you let out when a hand wrapped roughly around your waist and pulled you harder into him further fueled his actions. You felt more of his arousal when he pressed himself into you. He still felt so different from the Kyungsoo you loved. This one was acting out of his mind. This one was so upset. As upset as you had been.

This wasn’t something he wanted to be doing. Did he believe this is what you wanted? It had been, but not this way. 

“Do you think I don't want to?” He didn’t. This felt off. There was no love in this. This felt nearly performative and so full of frustration. Why was he doing this? Just to prove a point? 

“I can do it. It can just be sex like you want. It doesn’t have to mean anything. Do you think I won't?” 

His hands were moving. This man slipped his fingers under the strap of your dress and his palm pushed it off of your shoulders, his head dipping down quickly, his lips pressed over the mound of your breast, at the same time, pushing your dress and your bra down and taking your nipple into his wet mouth. You let out another sound. It came from the back of your throat and the arousal surged through your body with the sensation of him nipping on your sensitive nipple. His hands moved down to your thighs and you heard ripping as the too-tight skirt was pulled up over your hips. He pushed your thighs apart and you felt the pressure of his erection against your center. The grinding was rough and scratchy with his jeans still on but it fell just over your clit, making your arousal grow stronger. 

But the touches felt so forbidden. The low sounds he made as he did it sounded straight into your ears and sent another wave of arousal through your body. You couldn’t help it. Your heart begged you to stop him. This wasn’t what he wanted. He was doing this because of you. Some twisted misunderstanding. A stark lack of faith in you had led to this. His feeble attempt to fix what was wrong with you. To fix the reason for your fit and to stop your crying. You felt awful for it. He had misunderstood you so completely.

“This is what you want from me, right? This is why you asked for a relationship? You didn’t mean it, you just wanted me to fuck you, right?” He spoke roughly in between his maddening actions, asking you questions, making you feel like you wanted this, and putting up the act like he was willing, but his questions had your head shaking. You hadn’t been trying to trick him. This wasn’t a game you played with him. He was wrong about you. 

You knew he wouldn’t have been doing this if you hadn’t run away from the date. You knew he was doing this for some twisted reason. He genuinely believed you had been using him. You could feel the sadness filling your chest to realize this terrible thing. You understood in an instant why he couldn't give you a response. He’d never trusted your intentions with his heart. 

No. You didn’t only want this from him. Part of you craved this. Part of you felt desperate for it. But the longer it persisted this way, the less you wanted it. It wasn’t something he wanted to be doing. He was feeling hurt and used by you. What kind of a monster must you be in his eyes.

This was his heart breaking at your hands.

No. You were shaking your head with denial and his face pulled up to look into your eyes. Madness. You were gasping for air and you whispered, “No. I don't only want this, Kyungsoo.” You struggled to say it and it came out strained and broken, “This isn’t the only thing I want from you, I promise.” 

His eyes hardened and he looked into your face as your chest heaved up and down with the labored breathing. You looked into his face, still very much aware of his hands on your breast, the bulge in his jeans rubbing against the covered center between your legs. His roughness had stopped advancing while he looked into your eyes. There was a narrowing in them. He did not move or retreat but the narrowing of his eyes had enough of a pause for you to catch your breath. 

“Do you even like me?” He asked this with a terrible cracking in his voice and the heartbreaking question had your eyes rolling closed, your brows furrowed and your chin puckered as your bottom lip trembled. You felt the absolute devastation deep inside of you and your eyes were burning again. You could feel the shaking deep inside of your chest and hot tears crested, slipping down your face, dripping over his shoulder, darkening his shirt. Your head sank down and you lifted your hands up to cover your face. 

“Yesterday you said you hated me. Three days ago you told me to go fuck myself. Four days ago you called me a pathetic asshole. Five days ago you told me — you told me —” You remembered all of it. All of the awful things you said to him. He couldn't get the worst of it out.

“Do you even like me, at all? Even a little bit?” he whispered through his broken heart in his broken voice and you gasped through the tears, nodding your head but unable to speak to him. 

He had fallen backward and you no longer felt his hands on you, you no longer felt any of his warmth over your skin. You reached up over your shoulder, covering yourself with your dress and you could feel your hands shaking as you pulled your skirt back down to cover your thighs. 

“I do. I do —  like you,” you managed the meager words and he was desperately looking into your eyes for signs of any truth to your words. Your next words came out with more conviction. You were reaching deep inside of your chest and you closed your eyes to get them out of you. It felt like the hardest thing you’ve ever had to tell him but you needed to say it. Even if nothing came of it, even if the gaping wound you both had caused each other was simply too great to ever heal, you had to tell him. You had to be sure that he knew it. 

“I love you, Kyungsoo. I am in love with you. I’m sorry. I love you.” As scary as the words were, you meant them with every single cell inside of your body. Even if you were rejected by him every single day for the rest of your life, you would not regret telling him this now. You were sorry it had taken you so long to say it. You were sorry you had mistreated him so badly and you felt so desperate for him to know this truth about you that you no longer cared of the consequences of him knowing this. 

You told him this and you looked into his face as you told him this. His breathing had stopped for a moment and when he inhaled a breath he broke the eye contact and his eyes rolled, and over his entire face, you saw an eternity of regret there. 

He was moving. He was lifting his hand and pulling at the hair on top of his head and then he was bending at the waist with a hand on his hip. His face contorted in pain and you reached your hands out toward him, still too scared to actually touch him. 

“Why?” he whispered with closed eyes and wetness on his cheeks. This single word sounded to you like all of the pain in the world and you inhaled another deep breath, willing your tears to slow down some so you could see him clearly. 

He inhaled and gritted his teeth and opened his red-rimmed eyes on you, swallowing roughly before he opened his mouth, “Tonight,” he said, lifting a finger and pointing to the ground just in front where you stood barefoot on this patio, “I had such a nice time with you. It was such a nice time but you know what I was thinking the entire time? This should have happened months ago. Why wasn’t it like this six months ago? We could have been so fucking good together six months ago. But it didn’t happen like that, did it? And I can’t let it go. I feel like it broke me when it comes to you. It broke us. It broke what we could have been. And it kills me because I’m so fucking in love with you, but I can’t trust you. I love you and I am so mad at you.”

You were listening to him speaking and you felt something different now. A sense of confusion was building inside of you. It felt like being falsely accused. What was he talking about? How was this something you had caused? Because you didn’t just accept that he stood you up that night? Why couldn’t he trust you? He was the one who never showed up that night. You were shaking your head and you opened your mouth to protest.

“Kyungsoo, no. That’s not right.” He was wrong. He was mistaken. He was the one. You were sure of it.

Your protests weren’t heard. “Why didn’t you show up? And why did you attack me after standing me up? You know, I lost friends over that? They all believed you. Why didn’t you come that night? Can you just -- just admit it?” 

“Please? Just be honest with me, please? M-Maybe we could work. Maybe if you could just come clean with me, then I can forgive you and we can move past it?” He was begging. You were reeling with how wrong he was. He sounded so certain.

“Kyungsoo, I came that night.” You couldn’t tell him the lie he wanted. But there was something so odd about his pleas. You’d never heard him actually talk about it, but you’d been together with him in person now for two days and what you picked up on was his conviction. He was telling you the truth. This was something he genuinely believed you had done to him. “I was there. I waited for two hours for you.” 

With as heavy as his resolve was, you half expected him to slink away, to firmly believe you were going to perpetuate a lie against him forever and that nothing about the relationship between the two of you stood a chance at being saved. But there sat something heavy inside of his eyes. A furrow of his brow and searching within yours for answers. He was listening to you. For the first time, he could hear the words you were saying with your own mouth and you could see his mind working. 

“Where were you? For two hours, where did you wait for me?” It felt like salvation to hear this question. It felt like gulping fresh oxygen after drowning. It felt like maybe he had looked into your face too and saw some desperate truth in your eyes. 

“Upstairs. I don't have any proof. I was too embarrassed to post anything about it and I paid cash. I was upstairs. We were meeting upstairs.”

“I was upstairs. I was there. I was looking for you. A bouquet of flowers on the table. I left them there. You never came.” 

Something wasn’t right. It felt impossible. You knew what he looked like and he knew what you looked like and there was absolutely no way you missed each other, it was impossible. 

“Next to the terrace,” he said with his eyes reaching into yours and you shook your head at this detail, denying it. There was no way that could be true.

This detail was impossible. 

“Kyungsoo no, there was no terrace. I sat next to the window facing the library. What terrace?”

His eyes watched you without any response and after a while his eyes were roaming up over your head, moving around in a big circle and coming back around to sit inside of yours. How could this be? 

“The library,” he said to himself and he was watching your face so closely as he did it. “The library?” His inflection lifted and there was a change now. He was narrowing his eyes at you and there was a flare to his nostrils as he breathed in through his nose. His mouth scowled and frowned and he reached into his pocket to pull out his cell phone. 

“What are you doing?” 

He was tapping his phone screen. His thumbs were moving something along the surface and his eyes were focusing down. 

You heard a breath. A rough exhale, like a scoff. 

“Which location did we meet at?” He said with a flat tone. 

“East,” you said softly as he turned the phone around to show you a map of the city you both lived in. You could see on one side, the restaurant named ‘La Lei,’ and on the other side of town, the one you had gone to, the East location of the same name. ‘La Lei.’

“The East is on the right side. Exterior.” He added, his voice devoid of strength. You looked at the map, shaking your head and frowning your lips down with the furrow of your brow. 

“But I drove for an hour to get there to meet you, there was so much traffic and so much sun.”

“The sun sets in the West. You went to the West location. There’s a library next door.”

You felt the ground shift. It felt like a powerful force.

You had to lean against the wall to stay up. 

The whole time. 

The entire time. 

It was you. 

It was your fault. 

This was your mistake. 

You had ruined this. You did this to him. You stood him up with your own stupid mistake. You accused him publicly, embarrassed him, attacked him, blamed him for your own stupid mistake. Mocked and ridiculed and hated him for months. 

It was you. You were the asshole. You were the bastard. 

His phone timed out and turned black and turned off the only bit of light besides the light from the moon that remained. It took your eyes a few seconds to adjust but when you could see him again he was leaning with his back against the wall with his head hung down. He wasn’t speaking and he wasn’t moving. 

“I’m s-sorry. It was my mistake.” You dropped your face when he finally lifted his head to look at you. 

And after a few silent moments, he inhaled and ran his hand over his face, turning away from you once more without speaking. 

He whispered while he faced away, “I was so mad at you.” You heard a shaking inhale, “I was so mean to you.”

You felt destroyed by this. No wonder so many awful things happened to you. You did awful things, made stupid mistakes, and ruined anything good that came your way. 

He was still whispering and outside of this place, outside of this pain, the hard rain began to fall. It was almost too loud for you to hear him. “I was awful to you. I was so horrible. I acted like that.”

You couldn’t stand it. You felt the forces from the ground to be too powerful and the weight on your shoulders too heavy. 

You sunk under it, ignoring the sting of pain when the concrete hit your knees. 

“It was my fault.” 

“I’m so sorry.”

“I ruined everything. I’m sorry, Kyungsoo.”

You existed within this long enough to begin to feel the rain. The wind whipped it against you and your skin felt so cold. 

You heard him moving on you, impossibly over the sound of the rain, his hands landed over your shoulders and you opened your eyes to see him kneeling on the ground in front of you. He would mess up his clothes. His jeans would be muddy if he did this. He didn’t deserve any of that. He hasn't deserved any of what you said to him or did to him.

“Let’s go inside.” You heard the words but their message felt too kind for what you had done to him. You shook your head back and forth and you held your breath to try and stop feeling much of this. “It’s raining. Let’s get inside. You’re getting wet.” 

“Kyungsoo, I’m sorry,” was all you could manage. 

“It was a mistake.” His voice slipped up beside you, “You made a mistake. You didn’t do that on purpose.” 

“Yeah, but all things after,” you couldn’t accept it. That you might be such a terrible person. But all signs pointed this way. 

Kyungsoo was shaking his head. “Me too,” he said, “I did things too. Come on,” you felt him reaching for you again, placing his hands below your armpits, wrapping around you and standing you up. He was helping you. This was a new kind of humiliation you could not take.

“I can,” you whispered, placing a hand on his arm and pushing against his hands. “I can do it. Don't help me.” The last thing you deserved was his kindness. 

You were moving before he had the chance to have any opinions about it. You moved through the front porch toward the front door and you gripped the handle and pulled it with all of your might. It was heavy but it moved and with each of your next steps you ignored the pain you felt in your knees. When the front door slammed shut the silence of this place was back. The rain outside sounded so far away inside here and behind you, you could hear his steady breathing. He haunted you but did not offer you any more assistance. 

You found the space with the bunks and you moved to your luggage, knowing that you must change out of this destroyed dress, knowing that you should shower off the mess that would be your hair and your face and you should also wash off the filthy flood water that your feet had been submerged up to the ankles in. 

You grabbed blindly within your bag, one item for each body part. Underwear, top, bottom. It did not matter what you grabbed. You were moving to the bathrooms, not looking at the man who sat on the edge of his own bed with his head in his hands. 

The dress was ripped. You no longer needed to be careful to grab only the zipper to remove it, you reached down and roughly pulled at the already ripped seams, getting through enough of it for it to slip off of your body and pool down to the floor. From where you stood you looked up to see him still sitting in the same spot and position on his bed. Head in his hands and no doubt, a million tragedies flying through his mind. 

You pushed off the bra and underwear and stepped into the flowing water; moving as if in a trance. Lathering soap as you had done thousands of times before. Washing off dirt and filth, scrubbing your skin with your fingernails until it was striped with red; watching the mud swirl down the drain below your feet. Washing your hair and digging your fingertips roughly over your scalp. Treating yourself with just a little less care than you normally did. 

The water timed out and you had to step forward to start it again and your eyes caught movement from where he had been sitting. Kyungsoo was standing. He was looking down into his black bag and pulling things out and his eyes were down on the floor as he moved to enter the bathroom. You pulled your eyes away from him and focused them on the wall in front of you when he began to undress and your blinking flighty eyes did their best not to look at him as he stepped up to the shower faucet next to you and stood with his eyes closed under the running stream of water that ran over his naked body. 

“I’m sorry,” you heard him whisper with his eyes closed and the water passing over his face. “For all of it.” for a few seconds after he said it, you felt the pull to look at him and when you finally gave in you found his eyes on you, his head turned and he watched your face for your understanding or for your refusal. 

You nodded your head and bit down on the inside of your lip and the water from your shower head timed out. He shifted and he reached forward and pressed the lever to start your water again and you flinched to feel the water hitting your skin again and try as you might you could not bring yourself to pull your eyes off of his face. You felt an urge to know something. The question terrified you the longer you rolled it around inside of your mouth but you had his attention, he was still looking into your face as water ran down his body, washing away everything that had coated his skin tonight. You worked up the nerve. 

“Do you hate me?” 

His eyes flitted over your face and he slowly rolled them closed as he licked his lips. He was shaking his head back and forth before he answered you with the words you felt so desperate for. 

“No, I don’t,” he said, “I love you.” 

Your lips were trembling again. You felt the shaking inside of your chest and you were succumbing to it, the tears built and you squeezed your eyes tight, moving your face under the running water to wash them away, nodding your head to receive the words from him that you did not deserve.

His next whispered question pulled your eyes to him again. 

“Do you hate me?” 

You shook your head, sniffing your nose and closing your mouth before you whispered a quiet answer for him. 

“No, I love you, Kyungsoo.” 

He moved then, you saw the steps his feet took closer to you and you felt his wet arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling you into him. His bare skin was everywhere and another step brought the length of his body flush up against yours. He lifted his hands, placing one over the back of your head and his face was so close to you, his wet hair dripped steadily on your cheek. You wrapped your arms tightly around his waist, squeezing tightly around him, pulling him into you and he squeezed himself around you just as tightly. 

“Let’s put it behind us then.” 

More than what the statement promised for the future between you both, his words seemed to have a deeper impact on you. It sounded too good to be true. The word he used when talking about you and him. ‘Us.’ It felt like so much more than you deserved. He was probably just using it in an insignificant way. Not in any meaningful way. You’d had your fill of asking him questions and being turned down so you just accepted the hug, ignored the increasing pressure you felt against your hips and when you let go of the tightness from around his waist he lessened his hold around you and took a step back, his eyes seeking out yours the second the contact was broken. 

You did not hesitate this time. You leaned into him quickly and pressed your lips against his cheek, finding the softness of his face and the smell of his warm skin so delightful that you could not pull yourself away from him right away. You lingered for longer than you should have with this beautiful naked man standing within touching distance of you and when you pulled away his eyes watched you with lids half closed and he followed your movement as you backed away from him; those eyes slipping down as you left over the length of your naked body. 

You felt that look all over. He was looking at you with a heady desire that was quite visible with the vulnerable view you had of him. You hadn’t moved far enough away from him for your promise to him to still be enforceable. When he took a step closer to you, you should have stepped away from him, but there was a drug coursing through your veins with the way he looked at you. You should have left when you had the chance but you hesitated and now he’d taken another step. You felt too weak for this kind of test. You wouldn’t pass. You couldn’t resist him. If he wanted this, you had no self-control to resist him.

He surged into you then, wrapping his arms around your waist and your arms flew around his shoulders as he pushed you backward. You felt the ground leave you when he tensed and lifted you up, taking several steps to leave the bathroom and you felt the telltale feeling of fabric coating over your back. You were laid down on a bed, his bed. He’d brought you to his bed and you felt the warmth of his bare chest covering over your breasts. When he pushed forward he climbed on top of you and your thighs parted for him and his hips moved easily between. The way your bodies fit together so easily and so perfectly felt ordained. 

His breathing was labored and he was looking into your eyes with a terrible tremble inside of him. He breathed through parted lips and his eyes were on your lips but he wasn’t kissing you. Your head had been lifted but you let it lie down onto his pillow and his breath got caught in his throat as his eyes drifted closed. You weren’t going to kiss him. You weren’t going to reach for him and guide him inside of you. You weren’t going to wrap your thighs around his waist and pull his hardness inside of you. 

“Kyungsoo,” you whispered and his eyes slipped open. “Only if you want to.” 

He blinked slowly and his face dipped down just as slowly until his soft lips pressed over yours; until his mouth opened over yours and his wet tongue teased a path over your teeth; until you felt his hands and his soft fingertips traveling down between his hips and your hips and those fingers slipped along your inner thigh. 

You were too aroused for this. The slip of his fingertips in between your wetness made his movement much too easy. Each pass over your center with his wandering fingers had you gasping, you were out of control. Every bit of you felt overwhelmed with only the touch of his hands. Your skin and your nipples both puckering and each of your responses to his touches felt like too much. You felt powerless to stop it though. It was something you’d wanted him to do, something you felt desperate for him to actually want to do, and now that it was actually happening you almost couldn’t deal with it, let alone believe that it was actually happening; that he was actually doing this to you. 

You wanted him too much. He made this so easy for you and when you felt him move again as he dipped his head down between your shaking thighs and when gave a gentle push against your legs to urge you to open for him, you gave in. It felt too surreal. That he was really doing this. That he really wanted to do this. The first pass of his tongue between your legs had you closing your eyes, feeling him there. His mouth was hot and his tongue moved over you with just enough pressure to make you squirm. Looking down and seeing his damp hair and the roundness of the top of his head positioned between your parted legs; this had to be a dream. You were overwhelmed by him. His hot breath and the sinful sounds from his mouth, his purposeful tongue, the way he moaned into you as he did it you had been so close so quickly. You felt inundated all at once. He was pulling. He was sucking. You were trembling and grabbing his hair, squeezing and shaking and you came apart entirely on his bed. 

It was too much. Your heart was racing too fast inside of your chest and Kyungsoo was sitting up on his ankles with his hands moving slowly up and down your parted thighs as he watched your face with heavy eyes and parted lips and chest heaving from the feelings surging through him. He was wet, from you. He seemed to be watching you for a long time and you wondered what had him so transfixed. Your eyes moved over him. The smooth skin, the muscles you knew you felt under his nerdy little polo, the beautiful shape of this man whose eyes seemed strangely content just to take in this view of you, ready and waiting for him on his bed with wet hair and now, a sweet smile on your face. You had what you were sure was a glow from the release he had just given you with his mouth. 

There was something silent here. You felt your smile widen and you pulled your eyelids closed, blinking slowly with the smallest lift of your chin. When you opened your eyes back up you saw the return from him. His lips pulled into sweetness, moving wide for the smile that seemed to hit him in waves and his eyes blinked back at you just as slowly. 

“Kyungsoo, do you want to make love to me?” You reached down, touching the tips of his fingers lightly with yours and you felt his hand move into your beckoning one. You pulled him down and he caved down over you. With his eyes still trapped inside of yours, he nodded his head. He did. He did want to be inside of you. 

You leaned up to him as you wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down on top of you, pulling his face down so you could kiss his lips. You could feel him between your legs, the smoothness and the shape of him that was so close to where you wanted him to be. You felt the tip of him bumping between your legs and you felt so wet that you knew it would hardly take anything at all to get him inside of you. In fact, the more you pulled against him the more you felt him slipping within your wetness, not inside yet but dangerously close with how good it felt to have him there. You knew from the sounds coming from his throat that each slip inside of your wetness only heightened the temptation to push inside. You felt the gentle push with his hips. It took everything inside of you not to lift your hips to catch the angle so he could push inside. 

You pulled your mouth from his and whispered beside his ear, “Your condoms…where?” His brows furrowed and his face showed great concentration before you’d asked this, no doubt feeling the warm slippery wetness between your legs and doing his best not to just slip inside. When your words were out he opened his eyes and shook his head once. “I didn’t bring any. I lied.” he huffed out a breath when you moved your hips again, feeling the slip between your legs again, “to sound cool.” He said after a small grunt and a hiss and his mouth was open with his brows still furrowed. This took nearly every ounce of his control to hold back from.

One of you would have to make quite a naked and heavily aroused journey to get them. An idea you weren’t crazy about right now, not with him so close to you, the idea of leaving him sounded terrible. 

They were just so far away. It wasn’t like this was someone insignificant. This was Doh Kyungsoo. You fully intended to keep this man for the rest of your life. You suddenly didn't even want them at all. 

“We don't need it,” you said in a soft whisper and his eyes opened once more, looking into your face. “You could just,” you added and you bit down on your lip when you felt his hips move again and he bumped against your already sensitive center. 

“Do you want me to?” He was watching you closely, holding his breath, and the instant you nodded your head you felt him shift. He left his place lying over your chest and saw him lifting himself up again. He was looking at you again. He was touching you again, his fingers slipping so easily and with his hand down between your legs you felt the pressure of him as he pushed inside of you. Hips guiding slowly at first and you gasped, struggling to keep your eyes open and on him while he filled you completely. Skin to skin. Pushing inside of you and reeling from the overwhelming pleasure that came from this. He was gone. He was lost. Inside of you, he was lost.

His face. 

His face was beautiful. His eyes closed and his head leaned back and his lips fell open and those same eyes that captivated and controlled you, tortured and tempted you, they drifted. You caught occasional looks from him. He pulled out and pushed in again and with each new motion, he fought a battle between watching you and feeling you. 

The sounds, the touches, the looks, and the moments when he would drop, catching your mouth with his, pulling you up to kiss him, moving lower to bite your shoulder or your neck or your ear all the while keeping as close to you as he possibly could. The friction felt good but you wanted to keep him inside and with each pull you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him harder into you. Holding him so tight that he had to pull against your legs to pull out again. This felt different. He filled you as if he was made for you. This sex felt different than any you’d had with anyone else. There was something insatiable about how desperately you wanted him inside of you and when he was shaking and when he was making that delicious sound from deep inside of his chest, you clung to him, pulling him inside of you, wanting him there, desperate for him to stay inside of you. 

You recognized some half attempt to pull out. You’d felt the stutter in his pace and with the sounds he made, you knew he was about to. You felt too crazed and he felt too good and you pulled him into you again, pulling his face down to you, capturing his mouth with yours, you felt the spasms and the bursts of warmth inside of you while you sucked on his tongue and he was shaking around you and inside of you and on top of you as he came. 

There was a moment of your joined breath. A moment of slow release of lips and the languid and satisfied smile that built on your face. He took it in, that look on your face and he reached a hand up to touch his fingertips on your bottom lip, moving his face down again to kiss you deeply. You could still feel him inside of you, that pressure that had built with the wetness you shared threatened a mess with every movement you made. You didn’t want to move. You didn’t want him to leave you. This desire to keep him felt stronger than any other. This man was yours and only yours. You wanted nothing else but him.

“You didn’t let me pull out,” he whispered with half-closed eyes as he laid his head down on your chest. “Trying to make it to the wall or what — what are you doing to me?”

You hummed in amusement, running your fingers through his hair. “I’ve been on the pill for years -- you felt too good for a condom,” you remarked and you felt his cheeks lift with the small smile that grew on his face. 

The wind down was slow to take. Neither of you had a schedule to keep to and no real reason to go to sleep early. You’d left him behind, happy and spent on his bed to clean up, and when you left the bathroom stall you watched him doing the same. Every bit of that shyness you’d felt with the idea of being naked around him, of course, was gone and he didn't seem to be in that much of a hurry to shower and get dressed. Eventually, he was moving though and you watched with a little pout from the edge of his bed as he cleaned up and pulled on some clothes at last. You pulled one of his shirts out of his bag, a plain white t-shirt that sat on top of a stack of seemingly identical plain white t-shirts. Below it sat black shirts and you wondered about this man’s odd black and white lifestyle.

“Hey, that’s my favorite shirt,” he said when you came out of the bathroom with your panties on underneath it and nothing else and you held out the bottom like it was a dress and did a little spin that had him giggling. He was up out of the bed and he was pulling your hand toward the door out of this room. 

“Where are we going? I’m not wearing any pants.”

He didn’t seem to care about your current state of undress. He was opening the door to the bunks and pulling you toward the kitchen, walking backward, only looking at you and not even watching where he was going as he just dragged you despite your stubborn resisting feet. 

“I’m hungry,” he pouted his lips and whined, something you never ever thought you’d witness in your entire existence. It made you laugh and you rolled your eyes.

“That’s because you didn’t touch your dinner. It was so delicious and you ate maybe three bites of it. Doh Kyungsoo, think of the kids who don’t have any food to—”

“Make me something. Make me food.” He cut you off. The whining was disarming and adorable and you motioned with your lifted eyebrows toward the door to let him know that if he didn’t turn around now he was going to run into it. 

Inside the kitchen were remnants of the dinner date. Three wine bottles sat forgotten on the counter and the empty wine glasses were left abandoned nearby. You slipped over to the fridge and opened it. You didn’t really know what on earth you could make this professional private chef that he would enjoy and when you turned back to look at him he just smiled uselessly. There were quite a few things in this fridge. The problem was actually you. What on earth could you make him that might actually taste good. You’d been here peering inside this fridge for a while before you felt just a little flustered with this task. 

“I don’t know how to make that many things,” you mused toward where he sat on a stool and you looked behind at the man who was simply sitting there watching you bend over in front of the fridge with a completely dazed but quite a blissed out expression on his face. You stood up straight and cleared your throat, understanding that yes you wore only panties underneath his own t-shit and that the man had just fucked you so he was probably not quite in his right mind but staring at your ass as you bent down to look into the fridge so you could make his spoiled ass something to eat was a little bit rude. He offered no advice. No suggestions. It didn’t seem to matter what you made for him as long as you did it wearing his shirt and he got to watch you do it.

The throat clearing pulled his attention up to your face. And when you shook your head with a question written in your eyes, both to get him to acknowledge that you were talking to him and as some sort of call out to the fact that he’d just been caught him staring and all you got was the smallest shrug and a lazy smile and even lazier words promising that he would like anything you made. It literally did not matter, he said. 

You pulled out butter, bread, and cheese. He was getting a toddler’s treat. You busied yourself taking out two bread slices, buttering both sides to lay down and sizzle in a heated pan, and placed two slices of cheese in between. Normally you’d only put one slice but he was cute so he got two cheese slices. He was getting the deluxe version of a grilled cheese sandwich with no bells nor whistles. Literally just bread and cheese. If he wanted something fancy he could cook it himself.  

You busied yourself with his plate, opting to be as ridiculous as he was and you sliced his sandwich in four little triangles, and set each one point side up in the center of a plate that was at least two sizes too big and you grabbed some leftover bread crust. Crumbling the whole thing in your hands and sprinkling the stray bread crumbs up way up high in overly dramatic fashion as you had seen some egotistical chefs doing online with their salt and pepper techniques. 

When you spun around with the plate in your hands he was already laughing. You slinked up beside him holding the plate over your shoulder and did a big round swing with it, plopping it down in front of him with a hand flourish as you came away from it.

“Here we have a pan sizzled butter-basted double fromage deluxe panini with an untoasted brioche texture sprinkle.” 

Oh, his laughter was glorious. You heard the loud guffaws and his eyes closed, his cheeks popping up pink and his whole body shook with it. You couldn’t put a name to how good this felt. It was unparalleled and such a new feeling. He was blindingly beautiful when he was happy and you had been the one to make him happy. Why you’d been dead set on making him miserable for all those months had clearly been great evidence of your stupidity. This man was absolutely irresistible when he was happy. 

You pulled your hands away from the plate with the sandwich and to your delight his mouth formed a surprised ‘o’ shape, he even lifted both of his hands to cover his mouth and you were giggling as he picked up one triangle and took a big bite of arguably the best part of the sandwich, the cheesy point. He was chewing and swallowing and taking another bite quickly while actually licking the crumbs and butter off his thumb between bites. You’d never seen anyone polish off a grilled cheese sandwich so fast. 

It felt so flattering to see him eat that stupid thing with the little ‘mmm’ sounds he made occasionally and just to keep from staring at him so damn much you spun to face the cupboards for something to drink. Grabbing two glasses and filling them with ice water. You’d had a bit more alcohol than you were used to these last two days and with the way he was just sitting there looking like a snack you were unlikely to get enough of any time soon, you figured you both should hydrate right now for whatever physically demanding activities you might participate in later.

“Do you feel better now?” You asked after he’d eaten and had been sipping on the water for some time now and his eyes popped over to you as he nodded with the glass to his lips. 

“Like a new person.” He spun on his stool, pushing away from the counter and he leaned toward where you stood just at the corner of it. You felt a tug on the shirt you wore and the fabric tightened around your back as he pulled against the shirt. You resisted and the only actual reason for your resistance was for the sake of the drama. You couldn’t fight your smile but you at least had a bit more control over your legs and the smallest whine that came from his chest, the little pout on his lips, and the adorable way he pulled again, shaking his hand so the tugs came quickly and shook you with their insistence was an instant reward for this little fight you put up.

“Ahh, come here,” he complained out loud. You were giggling and you shook your head back and forth. 

“Look you’re stretching my favorite shirt all out,” he pointed down to the spot on the shirt where his own hand held on and pulled it very far away from your body. It had a surprising amount of stretch in it. You giggled at the playful accusation. 

You just shook your head again and grabbed ahold of the countertop when you began to feel like he might pull hard enough to get you to move. The longer you held your ground the more petulant you felt about it. A ghost of the conversation from earlier in this very kitchen was dancing around through your head, making you feel like maybe all of your talking and airing of all of your past grievances with this man wasn’t quite finished; wasn’t quite resolved with the love. Some things when asked should be answered and you still felt that sting deep inside of you from being denied.

“Why?” His question came next and you simply couldn’t hold your next words inside.

“I thought you never had sex without a committed relationship, Doh Kyungsoo.” You said it with a laugh. You’d meant it in a light and funny way but once the words were actually out, it felt like a cloud had just moved in. You could still feel the warmth of that bright sunshine but there was a haze that coated and cooled your skin just enough for a chill of doubt to grow. You felt it inside of your stomach where you always felt all of the nervous things in your life.

“You never answered my question — from before -- about us.” This part, you said with much less confidence and no humor. You couldn’t even look into his eyes as you said it.

He did not loosen the grip of his hand on your shirt. He didn’t shrink away and avoid your eyes or try to evade or avoid answering your question. 

Kyungsoo leaned forward, closer to where you stood just out of his reach enough to require just a little bit of effort for him to get to you and he nearly fell off his little stool to do it. He reached with his other hand. You were grabbed by his hands, finally gaining enough purchase around your waist for the strength of his arms to overpower your little stubborn fit and you stepped rapidly to keep from falling over; to keep up with the quickness with which he pulled you into his arms, between his knees, and into the now familiar smell of him that felt like comfort itself. 

“Yes,” he said quickly, wasting absolutely no time with little jokes or word games. He was wrapping his arms around your shoulders and you slipped your arms tightly around his waist and tucked your face into his neck. His answer coated over your head, slipping right down into the middle of you, soothing whatever silly worries had slinked their way under your skin. 

“Yes, I want to be with you. Yes, I want you to be mine and I want to be yours.” His hands rubbed firm passes up and down your spine.

“I am answering you now. Yes.” 

Links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10

[an-annyeoing-writer]

idol!Baekhyun x fan!Reader: truth be told.

Word count: 2382

Date of release: 11th November, 2024

Genre: angst, slice of life, half ounce of a fluff, established relationships, mentions of break up and dysfunctional relationships, way too much emotional yapping as for barely any plot.

I'm as surprised as y'all that I wrote something like this. You know, no vampires, no action, no one's actively dying? It's very much not my kind of writing, but I was feeling very emotional at the time. Just don't get used to it.

„It’s not good for you. I don’t think it’s good for me. It’s not healthy for either of us.”

He felt as if the knife you were cutting vegetables with cut right through his heart as well. You deliberately distracted yourself with the activity while he stood nearby, staring at you blankly, but not knowing how to respond.

In the recent weeks, he felt the two of you falling apart. It was like an avalanche that started with a small rock which he didn’t notice at the time, but which escalated into a disaster. Talking less, avoiding meeting up, and until today – the day you announced, as gently as you could, that you wanted to move out and live on your own. You said that it’s just because you want to become more independent, that you shouldn’t rely on him this much. But what will his apartment feel like without you? Your presence here, doing small things such as cutting vegetables, became a staple part of his life.

“Are you still talking about living together? Or about… us?”

Your movements were more frantic than he knew you for. With one a bit too sudden of a motion, the blade cut through the skin of your finger, and you let out a low murmur to cover up the hiss of pain, putting the finger to your lip in mild annoyance. It was more than clear that the cut was not the only reason behind your frustration.

Baekhyun didn’t move.

In any other situation, he would react – mock you a bit for being clumsy while being the first one to bring the first aid kid, maybe pretend to be a vampire struck by the scent of your blood, maybe even panic a little in this cute, puppy-like way if he felt that the amount of blood is greater than acceptable.

But now he didn’t, and it sparked a bit of hurt in you as well, but also brought your attention to the fact that maybe dismissing things and try to make them gentle only worsened the pain that would eventually come. The anxiety of the future that you exposed him to was not like the boil-the-frog that you planned to perform. You wanted to avoid confrontation for as long as necessary, until things dropped naturally. You didn’t expect him to hold onto it.

“Can you be honest with me? Are you able to?” His tone started to show that he, too, was growing frustrated. “Tell me what’s going on. Did something happen? I’m sorry if I can’t catch the clues, but if you made it obvious, then I’m just plain stupid.”

“Nothing… happened. And I’m sorry, I didn’t make it obvious. I didn’t know, how.”

He frowned ever so slightly, taking a step towards you. You backed against the kitchen counter, placing your hands on each side – your finger stung a little, but it was merely a scratch. The real wound was growing in your soul.

“If nothing happened, then why? Did you grow bored of me?”

“Of you?”

“Yeah. Please be honest with me. Just no more sweeting things up, alright?”

His tone was calm, but it lacked softness, it was almost business-like.

“I don’t know how anyone would get bored of you, Baekhyun” you admitted in a breathless whisper. You were starting to feel foolish, really. “And especially myself. That’s why I don’t think I can take it. I don’t think it’s fair to you. But I’m also not fair to myself. You just mean… too much to me.”

 “Too much?” The frown of the man’s face only deepened. “Why is something telling me I should not feel flattered?” A bit of frustration was slipping into his own tone as well.

You let out a deep sigh.

“I started off as your fan, Baekhyun. I thought that with time, it’ll be more… normal. That you’ll feel like a normal person. But somehow it’s not like that. Somehow… it feels like my life is even more about you than it was before. I feel like a creep. Like I’m using you to fulfill a fantasy.”

“Are you?”

“No!” You denied right away, but your voice faltered. “I… don’t know.” You crossed your arms on your chest, fixating your gaze somewhere down below.

To your surprise, Baekhyun let out a breathy laugh. The laughter didn’t feel light and cheerful, like his usual ones – it was heavied with worry, with some sort of underlying agony.

“Okay, let’s talk about this. We need to talk about this.”

His hand reached towards you and he pulled you by your arm, almost throwing you off balance when he pulled you towards the living room, snatching a paper towel on his way and putting it into your still bleeding hand. “You’re right. Do you think I didn’t consider it? That this wouldn’t work out? That it would feel fake? Heck, I talked to so many friends about it, and most of them said it’s not a good idea. But you know what?” He pushed you onto the couch and sat himself on the stool, bringing it close so that your knees almost touched – if only you let yourself relax, they would rest against each other naturally, but you were stiff and trying to almost shrink within yourself. “You know what? I’ve known you for a year. And I could always trust you. You’ve had so many chances to take advantage of me, and you didn’t. So I don’t want to think about how you could – potentially – hurt me. But we need to talk about the other part.”

“What do you mean? Isn’t it obvious that…”

“No, no. You’re thinking about what it’s like, for me, to date a fan.” He didn’t even let you finish, but it was as if he could read your mind, already knowing your thought process. “I want you to be honest and tell me what it’s like to date an idol. Because you’re right, you could be using me. But you also said it’s not good for you. And you’re right, because I could be using you, too. So be honest with me and tell me if I ever hurt you.”

So many memories came flooding at once – not of pain, not at all, but of all things that could have led to one tragedy or another. Your whole relationship, like a videotape.

Sure, your relationship was not always perfect. Barely a year has passed. Not long enough to develop a deep understanding of each other, but long enough for many things to happen, to get to know each other at least.

Not all of it was beautiful. There were arguments, some of which almost ended in a breakup. But they made you stronger, that much was undeniable – with each and every single time you almost fell apart, it felt like you knew each other a bit better, knew what things not to do and not to say, but which helped to soothe the atmosphere and help you get back along.

You had one, most important rule in your relationship.

That no matter what happened between the two of you, you would play fair.

That one time he lied to you about being at work while he was not – that one hurt. When you found out he’s not at the office in the first place, you even thought he was cheating. Wouldn’t that be understandable to assume in such a situation? You had every chance to cause a scandal on spot. But you didn’t. You knew that pulling his whole career down because of your relationship wouldn’t be fair. No matter how much it hurt, it was completely out of the equation.

It turned out he was with his friends – he really wanted to go out, but felt bad for not giving you much attention these days. You felt almost pitiful, seeing him crumble in front of you, all worried that you will feel like he doesn’t want you, when he genuinely didn’t have that much time, and it was just one evening with friends. You smacked him in the head for feeling bad about spending time with friends. And he learned that he can be honest with you.

Another time, you were all excited upon his album release. Seeing him on the stage later on made you feel all kinds of things, the way he moved, all the effects, clothing, makeup – all putting emphasis on his heavenly physique, as if you were watching an angel dance. He came back home disheveled, with remains of makeup on his face, but as excited as you were. You would give all of you to him at that exact moment, more than he would ask for, more than you would feel confident to give any other time.

But it was still early in the relationship, and Baekhyun knew that you weren’t ready. That, drunk on him as you were, you could regret it later, even feel disgusted with giving yourself in this easily, that your gentle mind wouldn’t be able to trust yourself with your own body. So he indulged you with kisses here and there, and then gently tucked you into bed, making sure that it all went smoothly, that it didn’t feel anything like a rejection, but a gesture of utmost care.

It took a few more months before you opened yourself to him fully, and he never rushed or reminded you of how eager you were back then. He could have had it all back then, but he decided to wait. That’s how you learned he’s more selfless than you ever even aspired to be.

“You didn’t” you spoke after what felt like ages, to the point you wondered if you even responded to the correct question. “You didn’t… hurt me. Did I ever hurt you?”

“No, you didn’t. You’re just hurting yourself all the time” he mentioned, jokingly motioning towards your hand, which you wiped hastily with the paper towel. “So if nothing bad happened, why the ifs? You realize it’s not going to stop if we just break up?” It was a rhetorical question, and you glanced up at him with a pout, feeling almost schooled by the way he talked. “You believe it’s a matter of just us, but, as much as it sounds ridiculous to say it, it’s all in your head. No matter who you’re with, you’re going to assume the worst. Won’t it be like that? Be honest with yourself.”

You crossed your arms again, feeling defiant for a moment, because his words were almost too much for your ego to take.

But there was some small part of you, somewhere at the edge of your consciousness, that not only knew that he’s correct, but also wanted it to be correct – because if it was just you, then you could learn to maybe keep those pessimistic parasites at bay, and… you wouldn’t have to suffer the loss that, despite weeks of preparation, didn’t feel like any less of a torment and regret that would come, were you to finish things as you originally intended.

All the beliefs, all the dogmas, that you carefully built over the past weeks, were falling apart in front of your eyes, confronted with very simple logic on Baekhyun’s end. You almost felt stupid for letting things get this far without confronting him earlier. Weren’t you the one who demanded honesty? Wasn’t he the one who proved you can trust him with your vulnerability?

“I’m… sorry.”

You felt yourself fall apart as well. Your body slumped down, relaxed knees rested against Baekhyun’s, and he put his hands on top of your thighs, as if in this exact moment, while knowing that he has you with him, he didn’t want to risk losing you again.

“Don’t be for feeling like that, things are never easy, now are they?” Here it was – the signature smile, the warm one that tore through the clouds of the darkest of your days, warm and welcoming. “But I am upset that you held it from me for so long” he whined. With the whine, he finally moved from the stool and onto the couch next to you. His arms shamelessly snuck around you, engulfing you in the close embrace that you knew so well, felt so good within. Partially pulling you into him, and partially leaning into the back of your shoulder, Baekhyun released a long sigh against the skin of your back, warm air slipping underneath your blouse – you missed it. You almost didn’t realize how distant the two of you became, and how long has it been since you felt his body against yours. But now, despite all of that, it felt good, it felt right. As if your souls have never detached from each other.

Maybe there was some form of destiny between the two of you; maybe it was not just a parasocial relationship that evolved into something that could turn dysfunctional so, so easily – maybe it was written in the stars that one way or another, the two of you would find each other, and it just so happened that you spotted him first, from afar, slowly making your way.

How else would the two of you find each other, after all?

Maybe you learned something this time, too. Maybe it wasn’t much, just the beginning of a stronger, even more intimate bond that would last years and years, and light years, and through all your reincarnations, with some of them as pitiful as they could be. Maybe it was just an accident that this time you were in such a position – in another life, would you be a princess, and he be a peasant?

But these were only some other ifs, fun to think about, but not worth spilling your heart over.

In this life, in this universe, you were his, and he was yours. And everything else was just more or less accidental circumstances that brought you closer together.

Only at the back of your head, you wondered if one day, the tale of hopes and stars would fall, and that dream would turn into a nightmare, fueled by your lives’ imbalance and selfishness that neither of you knew in each other.

Maybe you just didn’t have to think about it just yet.

[marshmallow-phd]

A Manor of Shadow and Blood

Genre: Regency Gothic AU

Pairing: EXO x Reader

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

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5

**

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Am I a suitable partner?" 

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

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

"It's rude not to share, Junmyeon.”

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

No, not a mirror. There was no reflection. 

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

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

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

*****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not a human. 

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

Crack. 

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

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

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

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

"Baekhyun," Junmyeon gasped. 

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

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

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

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

"She could have been killed!" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A choice? He was giving you a choice?

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

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

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

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

"I think… I think I want to stay."

*****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Should I go steal a penny from Sehun?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Minsoek shrugged. "This manor is bigger." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What is this place?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yixing.” 

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

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

"I need to speak with you." 

"Fine." None of you moved. 

Sehun looked at you with a pointed glare.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just like now. 

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

No. That wasn’t your imagination. 

Your eyes snapped open. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then, he was gone. 

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

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

[icequeenbae]

Boy Next Door (m) Ch.1 | BBH

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Neighbor AU, slow burn, hurt/comfort, fluff, smut

Warnings [whole story]: Baek being the neighbor we’re all dreaming of, harassment (nothing graphic), a bit of body image/ insecurity, MC sucks at relationships, explicit content, unprotected sex

Word Count: ~18.5k (total), 4.5k (pt.1)

Summary: Your neighbor Baekhyun has been a pleasant acquaintance since you moved into your current apartment almost a year ago. Could he also be… a perfect match?

© Please do not copy/ post on other platforms without permission.

Chapter Masterlist: Pt. 1 > Pt. 2 > Pt. 3 > Pt. 4 (fin)

Author’s note: This has taken me so, SO long to write and edit that I cannot believe the time has come to post it lmao I just wanted to write something simple with the classic boy-next-door vibe but as usual, the story ended up being much longer than planned and I am going to post it as a mini-series. Please keep in mind that your feedback is what motivates me to write and post more <3 And biiig thanks to the lovely @beomcoups for taking on the beta duties on this whole story~

Network Tags: @bbh-net  @k-vanity  @ksmutsociety

PART 1

In the lobby or on your floor – those were the two locations where you’d been bumping into Baekhyun most often. Which wasn’t that strange, considering that you were neighbors. But it somehow always caught you off guard and left you flustered.

Just like the first time.

It happened almost a year ago when you were waiting for the elevator on the first floor of your building with your best friend Yuki, who came early to help you with preparations. A guy in a loose white dress shirt and jeans stepped into the elevator with you, politely greeting you before pressing his floor number.

‘Oh, you live on the 13th as well? So, you and our Y/N are neighbors!’ Yuki exclaimed.

‘Nice to meet you,’ you muttered and bowed, shy from the sudden introduction. He reciprocated, chocolate hair falling into his eyes charmingly.

‘You should come to her housewarming party! It’s in a couple hours,’ Yuki chimed in again. ‘You don’t need to bring anything, it’s just a small thing with a couple friends and neighbors. We’re making sure Y/N-ie settles in nicely here. So please come, we have tons of food!’

If anyone could ever say no to your friend… Well, you had never met such a person. You guessed that Baekhyun was simply too stunned by her enthusiasm, so he said he’d swing by for sure. In a way, you were thankful that she’d asked him – you’d have never had the guts to invite someone like that; especially not anyone as good-looking and cool as Baekhyun.

You regretted letting your bestie invite him the following evening when your party was in full swing for several hours. Most of the food was devoured, so now you were all drinking, crunching on snacks, and conversing; or trying to while jumping from one topic to another.

‘I wish we could gather more often. We all like to hang out with you, you know?’

As always, Yuki nagged at you for being too ‘stay-at-home’ of a friend.

‘I like to hang out too. But home is home. You know parties aren’t really my… favorite pastime.’

‘What is your favorite pastime, lying in bed cuddling your blanket?’ Chanyeol joked insensitively.

He should’ve known better since you were the most troubled in your group of friends regarding relationships. It was super tough for you to find a match, even when you made an effort to get out of the house and meet new people, mostly because of your history of failed relationships where your partners gained interest in someone else. It seemed like you were too plain to hold someone’s attention for long. So, you’d been ‘that single friend’ for several lonely years now. And at this time, you were actually in the very beginning of a new, promising relationship. You were still pretty insecure about it; thus, Yeol’s comment really did make you flinch. He was drunk, so that was understandable, but you still sulked at his words, mainly because they were true.

‘Hey, it doesn’t have to be a blanket.’ You frowned, pressing the straw to your lips in frustration.

‘I’m kinda sad that guy you’ve been talking to couldn’t come,’ Yuki interjected. ‘I wanted to find out what he’s like.’

‘Minho had work-related travel, so he’s resting up.’ You shrugged, sipping your drink timidly.

‘I’m sure the guy made this excuse just to avoid meeting your friends. How long have you known him for, like, two days?’ Chanyeol interjected.

‘It’s been a few weeks, actually,’ you corrected, and Hoseok, Yuki’s boyfriend, muttered a reproaching ‘hyung’ in his direction.

‘Gosh, you’re really this stupid while drunk,’ Yuki shook her head disapprovingly at your friend, who simply shrugged.

Baekhyun was pretty silent during the latest exchange, so when you briefly made eye contact, it reminded you that he could also hear all of that chatter. Which made you want to choke on your drink from humiliation. Thankfully, one of your friends still had some tact left that night, so they quickly changed the direction of the conversation. Still… you’d been mortified for weeks after the event, doing your best to avoid bumping into Baekhyun when leaving for work.

***

The next time you met, Baekhyun was also in the lobby of your apartment building. And once again, before a gathering at your place. Just days prior you had lost it and left your resignation letter at your boss's desk. Working such long hours under the constant pressure of absolutely unrealistic deadlines was taking its toll on you for sure. But when you found out they promoted a person, who was obviously less experienced and capable than you in working (but more capable in flirting with your manager), instead of you… It became the last straw.

Baekhyun appeared right on time as you struggled to push the elevator button with a whole case of beer in your hands.

‘Y/N,’ you heard his velvety voice call. ‘Nice to see you.’

‘Oh- Hi, Baekhyun.’ You greeted awkwardly, puffing from the weight you had to balance.

‘Let me help you with that?’ His suggestion sounded like a question, yet he instantly scooped the case from your hands.

‘You don’t need- thank you,’ you said, and he shook his head to indicate that it wasn’t a big deal.

‘So… having a party again?’ He asked as the elevator doors closed.

‘I wouldn’t call it a party,’ you hummed, looking at your feet. ‘I kinda had to quit my horrible job of 4 years, so my friends are making me celebrate it. Not that becoming unemployed calls for a celebration…’

You trailed off, not wanting to be a nuisance to your neighbor. He was just making small talk.

‘I’m sorry to hear that. Are you taking a break now or looking for something else?’

‘I’ll start looking next week. It’s Friday, my friends are coming… So I’ll try to just clear my mind and rest for one full weekend before I start stressing about a new job. Hopefully, my friends wouldn’t talk my ear off about it – that’s what the beer’s for. My little trick,’ you chuckled sheepishly.

‘Aren’t your friends supposed to treat you in this situation?’ Baekhyun huffed, shaking his head to rearrange his hair and better see you.

‘They should… bring more alcohol with them, I think. I couldn’t have them over for nothing, though.’

The doors opened after a robotic voice announced your floor.

‘Well, anyhow. Thanks a lot for your help!’ You tried taking the beer from Baekhyun, but he didn’t let you.

‘Open the door first; you can’t do it while holding this.’

‘Right. Thanks,’ you fussed, pressing your password in.

Baekhyun quickly placed the case on the floor of your hallway.

‘You should come!’ You blurted out, instantly getting flustered. ‘If you want.’

‘I might drop by if I’m free,’ he smiled softly. ‘My family wanted to have a video call later. That may take long.’

‘Of course. Have fun!’ You nodded, beating yourself up in your mind for being so weird suddenly.

‘You have fun,’ he chuckled, stepping towards his apartment. ‘Oh, and Y/N?’

Looking up at him as he called your name, you were met with his warm yet serious eyes.

‘If you need anything… You know where to find me.’

That made you strangely sentimental.

‘T-thank you.’

He sent you a message later on and let you know he couldn’t make it to your party. But in a way, he was there – on your mind.

***

It was about three weeks after you’d broken things off with Minho. If you could even consider it one, the relationship wasn’t long, only a couple months. At first, you thought it could be something, realizing later that it was only wishful thinking. There was no way the two of you could make it work; you were just not compatible with each other. The more you got to know him, the more you were reassured of that. Your life goals were different, your outlook on relationships was different… even your ideas of quality time with a significant other didn’t match. This time, the initial infatuation wore off rather quickly – probably because you didn’t go out of your way to appease him. You knew it was probably for the better. Pretty much all of your relationships ended the same way, with your boyfriends telling you they found someone else. Someone… more exciting.

This was the case for your first relationship halfway in your first year of university.

‘I’m sorry, Y/N. I just don’t feel the spark, you know? You’re so… domestic,’ your then-boyfriend said in his breakup speech. ‘I’m young, I want to experience stuff, be bold, and have fun. And there are people that I can do this with, who’ll also enjoy it.’

It repeated less than two years later when you’d barely worked up the courage to try and start something with another person. When it happened the third time, you decided you weren’t really made for relationships. It was ironic since you always wanted to be in one. You were very affectionate and were keen on taking care of people. Yes, you weren’t that into big gatherings and parties, and maybe it was a little too difficult to drag you anywhere when you were stressing about the upcoming tests and stuff… But you weren’t completely closed off! Even with those limitations, you were very sociable and had many friends. Was it so bad that you didn’t say yes to every suggestion? Did your inclination to stay at home and have cozy dates instead of outdoorsy stuff make you a non-relationship material? It seemed like every time someone else appeared, your boyfriends easily decided to move on.

And even though you weren’t in love with Minho, this breakup still made you sour. What made this particular day suck was that you’d found out that he was already in a new relationship; happily broadcasting it everywhere.

You weren’t jealous of him for being with someone else. You envied him for being able to find another partner in mere days after you parted ways, while for you, it felt like you’d never find or be able to retain anyone. Ever. Never ever.

‘Earth to Y/N!’ You jumped from someone’s voice ringing in your ears.

Looking up, you saw that the elevator doors were held open by your dashing neighbor, who was staring directly at you.

‘Sorry, I spaced out,’ you quickly entered. ‘Hi.’

‘Hey,’ Baekhyun smiled, pressing the button for your floor. ‘Is everything okay?’

‘Um, yeah. No. I mean-’ You sighed. ‘I’m just a bit out of sorts.’

‘Trouble at work?’

‘No, my new job is great. A huge improvement on the previous one. It’s just… everything else is not nearly as great?’

Yeah, because you pushed yourself to get back on the market to finally not be alone, and here you were. Back to square one.The sniffling you produced startled even your own self.

‘Oh god, I’m sorry.’

‘It’s okay. There’s nothing to be sorry about,’ he replied, his voice gentle. ‘Do you want to talk?’

‘Oh no, I wouldn’t dream about boring you with my stupid problems.’

‘I’m sure they aren’t stupid,’ he said. ‘And I have ice cream. Almost any flavor you could think of.’

You looked at him silently, and he smiled again reassuringly.

‘It’s not mandatory for you to tell me anything. But I can treat my favorite neighbor with some ice cream, can I not?’

‘Am I your favorite just because you don’t know anyone else?’ You snickered gawkily.

‘No. Not just-’

He was interrupted by the usual announcement of your floor.

‘So, what do you think? You can change first and then come, no hurry. I’m free tonight.’

You puckered your lips, genuinely intrigued by his offer. Ice cream sounded perfect right about now. Although agreeing just because of the promised treats was pretty childish, you couldn’t help but be seduced by his suggestion. So, you gave him a shy nod.

‘Okay. Throw on something comfy and come over.’

You entered your respective apartments, and only after the door behind you locked… you realized that your heart was racing.

‘Damn you, Y/N, why did you agree to do this??’ You whined, catching a glimpse of your scrunched-up face in the mirror.

Fishing your phone out of your handbag quickly, you messaged Yuki.

You | I fucked up, Yu!!

You | Idk what to do now…. ㅠㅠ

Ki-yaah | What happened?? Did you like a pic on Minho’s new gf’s SNS??

Ki-yaah | I’m so dumb for telling you about this… I’m so sorry Y/N ㅠㅠ

You | No, not that

You | Who cares about Minho and his girlfriend??

You | I mean, I was a bit salty about this… But I met Baekhyun again!

Ki-yaah | Baekhyun? Your cute as fuck neighbor Baekhyun??

You | No

You | Yes?

You | My neighbor Baekhyun. I blurted out that I wasn’t in the greatest mood, and he invited me to his place for ice cream!

Ki-yaah | WHAT

Ki-yaah | YAH

Ki-yaah | THAT SLEEK BASTARD

Ki-yaah | I hope you’re texting me from his couch

Ki-yaah | Or kitchen counter

Ki-yaah | Or wherever you kids decide to do it

A bunch of obscene emojis appeared on your screen, making you blush on the spot.

You | Do it?? We’re not doing anything. I’m home!

Ki-yaah | So, you’ve already done it?? HOW WAS IT??

Ki-yaah | Waaah, you’re quick these days, Y/N-ah! Finally, you’re learning your lessons

Ki-yaah | I hope you wrapped it up though

Ki-yaah | I wouldn’t blame you if you skipped it, though, I can imagine how starved you are on good sex.. Still, safety first!

Ki-yaah | Wait, so was he?? Any good??

Ki-yaah | You’re silent!

She typed so fast that you didn’t even have a second to write back, mostly from shock – your friend wasn’t always this shameless, actually.

Then she started calling.

‘Yah, why aren’t you spilling the beans?? Too worn out to type, bestie?’ She smirked on the phone, making you cringe.

‘Because there’s nothing to spill! I haven’t even gone over yet.’

There was a second of silence.

‘… What?!’

‘I have to change; I just came from work, you know? My makeup needs fixing too…’

Your phone instantly started vibrating as a video call request came in, which you begrudgingly accepted.

‘Damn, you can’t go like this. It’s not seductive at all!’ She exclaimed.

‘I’m not going over to seduce anyone! And he told me to wear something comfy…’

‘What?? Hm, actually…’ She tapped her index finger on her chin, deep in thought. ‘He does look like the type to be into that.’

‘I-into what?’

‘Cute girls! I told you already, he was probably crushing on you since the time he came to your housewarming party!’

‘Pfft, that’s ridiculous. And don’t bring up him allegedly glaring at Yeol for his stupid comments again, I beg of you!’

‘Alright. But he’s always so nice to you! Oh-Em-Gee, you’d look so cute together,’ she squealed.

‘I don’t have time for this. I can’t have him waiting for much longer, and I need to shower…’

‘Yes! And remove your makeup while you’re at it.’

‘Huh?? If I redo my makeup… isn’t it gonna look strange? Like I’m trying too hard?’

‘You won’t have to redo it. You’ll have only very basic nude makeup on. Looking all natural and cute.’

‘I swear, if you say ‘cute’ one more time-’

‘Can’t a girl dream?? I can already imagine how cute your children would be…’ Your friend kept musing.

‘I’m hanging up.’

‘Yah, take this seriously. Clean up nicely, and let your hair down. Also, shave your-’

‘Yuki!!’

‘You never know!! One second, he’s licking ice cream off his spoon; the other, he’s l-’

Quickly tapping on your phone screen, you canceled this embarrassing call. The vivid images didn’t leave your mind as fast, though, so you shivered, shaking your head to get rid of the obscenities.

‘She’s a bad influence, for sure,’ you muttered, still ashamed of yourself for imagining your neighbor in such a context.

The time was ticking, so you decided that Yuki was somewhat right and needed to clean up. You also needed to hurry the heck up; you didn’t want to make Baekhyun wait too long. Thirty minutes later, you were in front of his door.

‘Come in, come in,’ he ushered you inside, having you change your footwear for the pink house slippers.

Why did he have those again?

‘Cute, right? I ordered them for my niece and got the size completely wrong, but they fit you perfectly. I guess I wasn’t wrong after all.’

He looked at your feet for another second before blinking and clearing his throat.

‘Let’s not waste any more time, everything’s ready. Come on!’

Everything? Did he prepare a whole reception?

You took a good look at the back of his head as he walked you to his kitchen, noticing that his hair was slightly wet. Did he also shower? You swallowed at the thought. He probably didn’t invest as much time into the preparations as you did, though. You blamed your best friend for the inappropriate thought she planted in your head!

‘Here, take a look.’

He opened his freezer, and you gasped.

There was an entire collection of ice cream. Cones, popsicles, buckets… All different flavors and manufacturers.

‘I see you’re impressed,’ he smirked. ‘I have a niece and a nephew, you know? Kids aren’t easy to please these days.’

‘Can’t deny that I am. How many do you have here?’

‘No idea… I just keep buying them. Which one’s to your liking? You can try different ones. I’m in the mood for mint choco and lemon.’

‘Those are my favorites!’ You jumped up like a kid.

‘Really? Both?’

‘Yeah! I haven’t seen a lemon ice cream anywhere, only sorbets! Where did you find it?’ You closed the freezer as he got the two buckets out.

Baekhyun suddenly seemed pleased with himself.

‘You think I give away trade secrets just like that…’ He replied mysteriously.

‘I wanna buy some too,’ you pouted, circling around him while he took the lids off. ‘If you don’t tell me… I’ll eat all of yours!’

‘Ha, go ahead. There’s more where that came from,’ he teased right back, hovering slightly over you.

Lowering your gaze to avoid staring directly at him, you noticed something.

‘What’s this?’

Baekhyun turned back to the counter.

‘Ah, this old thing? You know how ice cream scoops are sold in paper cups or cones? This thing,’ he picked it up. ‘Is to make those. Watch.’

He dipped the instrument in water and shook it slightly, then scooped the mint ice cream, creating a smooth green ball with tiny pieces of chocolate adding to its hue.

‘Cool,’ you muttered, genuinely finding that fascinating.

‘Right? It’s awesome!’

‘Let me guess: the kids don’t appreciate it enough?’ You asked.

‘Those little- Here, you try with lemon.’ He pressed on a small lever and dropped the green globe into a bowl.

You shook your head.

‘I’ll mess it up; you do it.’

‘Come on, Y/N. You can’t mess it up; it’s just ice cream.’

‘Just ice cream? You don’t deserve to know the secret selling spots for this!’

He snorted, moving to the side to give you more space to try and repeat his previous actions.

You dipped it in water like he did and shook it before moving the lemon ice cream bucket closer. Spending about twenty seconds taking aim, you huffed.

‘I can’t do it! Yours is so round and pretty; I am not that professional.’

‘I’ll help,’ he chuckled at your meltdown, holding your wrist and softly pressing down on your hand to guide it. ‘Scoop it this way to make it full and round.’

You did as you were told, yet your mind was far away from the scooping technique. The entire focus of your being was now set on the unprecedented proximity you were in. He held your hand, his chest so close to your shoulder that you could feel the heat radiating off him. When you dropped a yellow ball of lemon ice cream into the bowl, you could only pray that he didn’t notice the goosebumps littering your arms.

‘See? Yours is even better-shaped than mine,’ he hummed close to your ear.

‘Y-yeah.’

As if sensing your perturbation, Baekhyun suddenly stepped back.

‘Trying just two flavors is a waste of an evening. Let’s get more.’

Ten minutes later, you were sitting in his living room at the small table in front of his couch. The bowl with at least a dozen different ice creams sat atop another one, which was filled with ice.

‘No one likes melted goo, right?’ Baekhyun chuckled while constructing this mobile freezer.

You tried all of them one by one, gushing about each flavor.

‘The grape one isn’t tickling my fancy,’ he said, nudging the oddly-colored glob away.

‘Really?’ You reached for it with your spoon.

‘Don’t even try it. That’s bad,’ he scrunched his nose. ‘I can taste every chemical they used to make this grape flavor.’

You laughed, trying it despite his protests.

‘It tastes like… very cheap jelly,’ you said.

‘Exactly! Such a strange texture. Hmm, I shall look for a better option then. My nephew Siwoo loves grapes.’

You smiled at his concern for his youngest family member’s preferences.

‘Your nephews must be the happiest kids in town with an uncle like that,’ you murmured, stealing a bite from the rest of the lemon ball that he subtly nudged your way earlier.

‘They’re pretty lucky, aren’t they?’ He agreed easily, earning a snicker from you.

As you savored the last of the lemon flavor on your tongue, he leaned in, eyes focused on your lips.

‘You eat just like Siwoo,’ he instinctively wiped your lower lip with his thumb.

Looking up at him, you caught the moment he realized what he was doing and retreated.

‘Sorry,’ he muttered awkwardly. ‘It’s a habit.’

Pressing your finger to your lower lip, which was now burning, you shook your head neutrally.

‘It’s okay. You must spend a lot of time with them,’ you scooped more in your spoon to somehow soothe the burn on your lips.

‘Not as much as I’d like. Most of the time, our schedules don’t match up, especially with them living in a different city. I try to have them over or visit them as much as possible.’

Baekhyun’s voice became warmer as he reminisced.

‘I get scolded by hyung a lot for spoiling them. But what can I do? At least they’ll have those pleasant memories and presents to remember me by while we’re apart.’

‘Are they close in age?’

‘About four years apart. Seoyul is pretty grown already; I can’t believe her little brother is going to school soon as well.’ He smiled, remembering something. ‘When she started her first grade, he was so upset. He cried every time she left the house.’

‘Aw, that’s so cute,’ you cooed. ‘So they’re getting along well?’

‘Yeah, apart from the occasional bickering. Siwoo is… a boy.’

‘A little daredevil?’

‘He’s driving his noona insane sometimes. To be honest, I was exactly the same at his age. We’re both lucky to have siblings several years older.’

‘Ah, so your hyung is much older than you?’

‘Seven years. He was almost like a father,’ Baekhyun chuckled. ‘But had he been even a couple of years younger… Pretty sure he would’ve given me a piece of his mind back then.’

‘I wouldn’t ever imagine that you were a maknae of your family.’

‘Why? I had so much aegyo as a child! Yes, my mom had to exercise lots of patience, but I was cute as hell.’

‘I’m sure that’s how it was,’ you hummed.

‘I’m still in the top-3 cutest of our family list. Might even be cuter than Seoyul at times; she’s way too serious these days.’

‘Wow, going over your nephews’ heads after the title… How mature of you.’

‘Hey, don’t blame me for being extremely cute.’

‘Show me some aegyo then,’ you challenged him with a smile.

‘Huh, you wish. You’re not ready for my aegyo, Y/N-ie.’ He responded sassily.

‘Is that so?’ You smirked, holding his gaze up until the chime of your phone provided an interruption.

Your bestie found a great time to pry into your business, which was evident from the message previews on the screen.

Ki-yaah | You’re not texting me back…

Ki-yaah | Which either means that you chickened out…

Ki-yaah | …or his stamina is REALLY freaking impressive

Ki-yaah | Which one is it??? I hope it’s the latter!

You inhaled sharply and started coughing, barely managing to swipe those messages off the screen before Baekhyun could see them.

‘Are you okay?’ He patted you on the back to help you overcome your coughing fit.

‘Yeah, I’m fine. I didn’t realize it was so late… It was so rude of me to keep you up. Let me help you clean this up.’

‘Leave it,’ he shook his head, catching you by the wrist. ‘I’ll put this away later.’

‘I’ll… get going then,’ you stood so abruptly that your legs couldn’t keep up with you, completely numb from being in the same position for so long.

‘Y/N!’ Baekhyun rose to catch you by the arms. ‘Take a second, sit on the couch. Your legs must’ve fallen asleep.’

You swatted at your legs with your palms, urging the blood flow to restore quicker.

‘Sorry…’

‘Why are you sorry? I’m not in a hurry to get rid of you.’ He stated simply.

‘It’s just so late… and… you must have stuff to do.’

‘Nope. I actually had fun. I rarely get to sit around at home munching on ice cream and enjoying another grownup’s company.’

You bit your lip shyly at his words, and he suddenly tsked.

‘Although I feel like we were mostly talking about me. That’s a shame. I want to hear about you as well,’ Baekhyun mused, walking you to the door. ‘Well, let’s save it for next time.’

Next time, he said.

Next time??

You turned your back on him to conceal the shade of your cheeks and pretended to fidget with the doorknob.

‘Let me,’ he reached over you, pressing his warm chest to your back for a second to unlock the door.

But before you could step outside, his fingers wrapped around your forearm in a lax hold.

‘And Y/N… If you ever find yourself craving some lemon ice cream… I’m ready to provide it.’

With that, he pushed the door open and allowed you to leave his apartment.

Masterlist

A/N: Thank you for reading! Another BBH mini-series started 💫 I hope you enjoyed part 1~ Pls let me know what you think via comments, asks and reblogs, my darlings 💜 Also, I am very curious if you are picturing anyone in particular as Hoseok hehe 🙃

[proudahgase-exol]

♡ ᴊᴏɴɢɪɴ ᴀꜱ ᴀ ʙᴏʏꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ ♡

Jongin x reader

-this is how I imagine Kai to be as a BF.

If you enjoy it please like and reblog ♡

He loves to watch you in silence, not in a creepy way but in a loving manner.

He talks about you to his friends, and he tells them how sweet you are to him.

He tells his mom that he's found the one he’ll marry.

He likes to match clothes, so he buys a few things for both of you.

He likes it when you wear his clothes; it makes him feel some type of way.

When it comes to you, he doesn’t have to drop whatever he’s doing to be by your side.

He’s so whipped, it’s crazy.

He likes to make you laugh. He likes to hear the sound of your laughter; it makes him happy.

He gets sad when he’s not with you; he needs to have you around at all times.

When it’s time to sleep, he likes to cuddle you. He feels safe if he has his arms wrapped around you.

He has so many pictures of you two on his phone.

He likes to go out for a walk with your hand in his

He always tells you how he’s feeling; he knows you will listen carefully and give him advice.

You are his best friend, his other half, and everyone can tell how much he loves you.

He’s really patient with you and never gets mad at you.

He's trying to make you dinner, but it doesn’t go as planned.

He teaches you how to dance to his music or exo music.

When he’s far away, he makes sure to call and text you.

[lunaflowers]

making up (yandere!chanyeol)

pairing: yandere!chanyeol x reader word count: 1.7k genre: smut, angst, yandere synopsis: after an especially violent punishment, chanyeol decides that he wants to make things up to you warnings: yandere, abuse, past physical abuse, cunnilingus, dom!chanyeol, sub!reader, daddy kink, stockholm syndrome, victim blaming a/n: this is a yandere story, meaning it contains many dark elements. please heed the warnings and don't read this fic if this type of content makes you uncomfortable. i do not condone the behavior exhibited in this fic and i don't believe the member(s) featured would either.

☆*: .｡. o🖤o .｡.:*☆

You stretched out your bare legs, examining the faint purple and blue marks littered across them. They were only just becoming visible, just as Chanyeol said they would. You knew he hadn’t meant to leave you so bruised up, he never meant to. He was just so passionate, so full of emotion and it burst out of him in unexpected, violent ways at times. He couldn’t help it.

Besides, you were no angel either. You could be difficult, stubborn, selfish. It’s what Chanyeol said to you constantly. He repeated the words with venom on his lips whenever you made him angry. It was your fault he had to get violent with you, your fault he had to discipline you, your fault for being such a bitch, a cunt, for acting like a slut, for being too friendly with his group members, for meeting up with your friends behind his back. It was always you who did something to provoke such a reaction from him.

You heard the door to the apartment being unlocked, and you quickly covered your legs with your long skirt. Chanyeol didn’t like being reminded of what he’d done to you during one of his violent fits and you didn’t want to upset him again.

Your boyfriend entered holding a single rose in one hand, and his keys in the other. You got up to greet him and when you did he held the flower out to you, head down, almost shyly, like a teenager confessing to his crush for the first time.

“For you,” he mumbled, and you took it with a grin, taking a whiff of the flower while he closed the door behind him, locking it securely. The door locked from the inside as well as the outside for your protection, according to Chanyeol. From deranged saesangs to run-of-the-mill paparazzi, who knew what kind of trouble you could run into if you were out in the world, all by yourself. Chanyeol wanted to protect you from all that. He was always so considerate of your safety and you were so grateful to him for it.

“Thank you,” you said, as he pulled you into his arms, squashing you in one of his signature Chanyeol cuddles, lifting you off the ground slightly and putting you back down again. His large body enveloped you completely and there was nowhere in the world you felt safer.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he said, breathing warmly into your neck, “I lost my temper again and… I shouldn’t have let myself take it that far.” He pulled back and locked his large eyes with yours. “Will you forgive me?”

You could see in his face how awful he felt, how he’d been beating himself up over what he’d done to you. Despite his flaws, he was a good person. And he loved you dearly, more than anyone ever had or would, you knew that. 

“Of course,” you said, and you saw his face light up with a smile. He kissed you on the mouth, lifting you up again as he did so and spinning you around. You couldn’t help but smile too, breaking the kiss and letting out a little giggle.

“I’m gonna make it up to you,” he said mischievously, putting you down and grabbing you around the wrist, pulling you towards the bedroom that the two of you shared.

“Right now?”

He didn’t say a word as he began to pull your skirt and top off and pushed you onto the bed. You had no bra on, and you lay there in front of him in nothing but a pair of panties. He eyed you up and down. You could see his eyes lingering on the burgeoning bruises that were everywhere and you felt suddenly self-conscious.  You knew he loved your body but you hated him seeing you like some broken little doll.

Before you had a chance to speak, Chanyeol reached out and touched one of the bruises on your thighs lightly, a look of regret on his face.

“It’s okay,” you said, pulling yourself up onto your elbows. You wanted to assuage his guilt in any way that you could. “It doesn’t hurt much.”

“I know you’re trying to make me feel better,” he said, still running his fingers softly over one of your bruises. “But even so, I really hate it when you fucking lie to me.” He wrapped his large hand around your thigh and dug his thumb into a particularly dark purple patch there and you yelped in pain.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you cried out, and Chanyeol released his grip on your leg. 

“Did it hurt?”

You nodded, tears filling your eyes. 

“Good,” he said, kneeling down between your legs. “That’s what happens when you lie to me. About anything.” He pulled your panties down your legs and threw them on the ground beside him. He then pulled your legs apart and stared close up at your already soaked cunt.

“Dirty girl,” he smirked, “You like it when I hurt you, don’t you?” He was running his fingers up and down your folds, spreading your wetness around.

“Yes,” you admitted, shamefaced.

In response to this, Chanyeol gave your pussy a smack that made you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure.

“You fucked up little whore,” Chanyeol continued with another sharp smack. “You know that this pussy was made to be used and abused by me, right?”

“Uh-huh,” you said, shakily.

“I can’t fucking hear you,” Chanyeol said, sticking two of this long fingers into your cunt at the same time. God knows you were wet enough but it still stung a little.

“Yes Chanyeol,” you said, breathlessly, “My pussy was made for you.”

“Good girl.” He began kissing you up your thigh while kneading your breasts with his hands. He kept using his lips and tongue around your cunt, but not on it.  Every time he would get close, he would move away again. You could feel yourself getting more and more aroused and were starting to feel resentful of the way he was teasing you.

“Chan…” you said, breathless with desire. “Don’t torture me here.”

He stopped, removing his lips from your outer labia and for a second you wondered if you’d annoyed him before you heard him chuckle.

“Oh? Is my baby feeling eager? Does she want daddy to eat her slutty pussy and make her feel good?”

So that was it. He wanted you to call him daddy. You hated it, and he knew how much you hated it and honestly it seemed to turn him on that you hated it so much, degrading you by making you say it.

“Yes…” you said, the word daddy catching in your throat. “Sir.” You hoped it would be enough, but really you knew he would get what he wanted. Chanyeol always got what he wanted.

“Hmm, I don’t think you want it bad enough, kitten,” he said, blowing cool air on your clit, making you feel the absence of him even more.

“Nooo,” you protested, “I do want it… daddy.” You said the last word hesitantly and he smirked. 

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear you. What was that again? Does my baby want daddy to eat her slutty pussy or not?” Chanyeol asked devilishly, while inserting one finger into you and taking it out again after a few pumps.

“Daddy,” you said, louder this time, while moaning out at the intrusion, “Please… I want you to eat my slutty pussy, daddy,” you repeated the word for good measure. It was becoming slightly more comfortable on your tongue now, or perhaps you were just that desperate.

Chanyeol smiled, “You’re so pretty when you’re obedient. I’ll give you what you want, baby.” He leaned forward and made contact with your clit for the first time, licking it and then suckling it gently.

You moaned, arching your back as Chanyeol kept on at it. He was so talented with his mouth and tongue, so attuned to your body, hitting every spot that made you whimper and whine.

“Daddy, oh daddy…” you moaned out, not feeling an ounce of shame anymore. All you wanted was for Chanyeol to keep doing what he was doing and you’d say anything to make sure he did.

“Yes princess?,” he said, in between licks and suckles.

“I- I’m just… That feels so good,” you replied, completely out of sorts. 

He reached up and grabbed one of your hands, interlacing his finger with yours as he continued to eat you out. You were squeezing it with all your might as the pleasure between your legs grew, but he didn’t seem to feel a thing.

“Oh, god, yes, Daddy…” you mewled. The way you were crying out was making him more ravenous. It was animalistic, his want for you. He became sloppier, harsher. He inserted two fingers into your cunt, finding your sweet spot immediately. God, he was so fucking good at knowing your body.

Your hips were bucking desperately now and Chanyeol had to let go of your hand, using his own to grab one of your hips and hold it down. You were so close, so close, to your orgasm and you could only hope that Chanyeol wasn’t in the mood to edge you today. You didn’t think you could handle it.

“Daddy!” You almost shouted, on the verge of desperation now,”I’m gonna cum. You’re gonna make me cum…”

Chanyeol responded to this by redoubling his efforts, groaning into your clit as he finger fucked you. “Come, princess, I wanna taste it.”

It was only a few more seconds before you reached your climax, your body tensing and then releasing so that you could feel it in every inch of your body. You convulsed slightly, the pleasure so powerful. Chanyeol watched from his vantage point between your legs, your breasts shaking as you did.

He got up and got onto the bed with you as you came down from your high, wrapping you in his arms once again. He kissed you on the forehead and cheek, pulling the comforter of the both of you.

“Thanks, Chanyeol,” you said, now that you were back in your right senses.

He smirked and kissed you again. “Everything’s going to be good from now on,” he said, “You’re gonna be a good girl and you won’t make me do bad things to you, right?”

“I’ll be good,” you said, both to him and yourself. You knew you needed to be better. You hate the way you provoked him.

“I know,” Chanyeol said, with nothing but sweetness in his voice. “Because if you don’t, I’ll have to bruise that pretty face of yours up too.”

☆*: .｡. o🖤o .｡.:*☆

[monstersholygrail]

Does anybody else hate the need to know everything about it when you get a new hyperfixation but then you get overwhelmed by the amount you need to know so you just give up and become depressed

because your brain isn’t being satisfied by the knowledge of your hyperfixation and you’re tired from being overwhelmed which only makes the depression worse???

Happens to me all the time…