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#exo fanfict
edenesth · 5 months
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Scarlet Requiem
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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
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"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.
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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
Master Tag list:
@the-kpop-simp @itstheghostofmypast @green-agent @vantediary @tinyteezer |
@hollxe1 @pandabur666 @lilactangerine @oddracha @evidive
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All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.
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Text
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
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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
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marshmallow-phd · 6 months
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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.
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keehomania · 1 year
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˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ 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)
╰┈➤ johnny suh (서영호)
FRIENDS (DRABBLE) (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!!
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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. Yunho + Size Kink @memoiresofaneternaldreamer
3. Yeonjun+ Praise @anyamaris
4. Mingi+ Free Use @memoiresofaneternaldreamer
5. Hyunjin+ Ice Play @hwajin
7. Yunho X Stalker/Yandere @whatudowhennooneseesyou
6. Han+ Bondage @memoiresofaneternaldreamer
8. Wooyoung+ Pussy Slapping @wooyoungmybelovedhusband
9. Mingyu+ Dollification @gyuhanniescarat
10. Jeonghan X Joshua X Sensory Deprivation @wooyoungmybelovedhusband
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+ Collaring @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 69 @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
179 notes · View notes
icequeenbae · 8 months
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Boy Next Door (m) Ch.1 | BBH
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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
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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
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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 🙃
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lunaflowers · 11 months
Text
making up (yandere!chanyeol)
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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 .。.:*☆
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an-annyeoing-writer · 11 months
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EXO Writers Masterlist [updated: 28/10/2023]
Hello! Here I present you the list of all active EXO writers I managed to find.
In the case you know of someone I didn't add (or even if you're writer yourself!) feel free to add yourself in the comments/reblog section or send me a message.
In the case you notice some writers are no longer active/don't write for EXO, please also let me know!
The list will be updated regularly!
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A:
@andimoon
@anyamaris
@an-annyeoing-writer (haha... hi)
B:
@baeklination
@bobohu4eva
@byunified
C:
@chanyeolsbiggestfangirl
@chogiwass
@cyberexo
D:
@dreamylittlesugarcube
E:
@exoo
F:
~ none yet ~
G:
@gyudior
H:
@hyuniebaby
I:
@icequeenbae
@irregular-idol-imagines
@its-not-sof
@itstheoneshot
J:
@jinmindeulle
@jongbross
@justwritedreams
K:
@kjmcotton
@kokobopam
@kpopimaginings
@kpoptrashlord-007
@kyoongboxi
@kyungseokie
L:
@lunaflowers
M:
@mint-yooxgi
@mgg-81
@mybiasisexo
N:
@neokittyy
@noona-clock
O:
~ none yet ~
P:
@paintingwhiteceilings
@papermatisse
@peachesvanilla
Q:
~ none yet ~
R:
~ none yet ~
S:
@scarlet-sky4
@soobadnoonecanstopher
@sooibian
@spacequokka
@starillusion13
@synthetickitsune
T:
~ none yet ~
U:
~ none yet ~
V:
@vampwrrr
W:
@whimsical-ness
X:
@xiubaek-13
@xotaemintol
@xui-n-soowillbethedeathofme
Y:
@yankpop
@yeolsaintlaurent
Z:
~ none yet ~
220 notes · View notes
dragonsholygrail · 3 months
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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…
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Text
Rat Bastard, Part 3
Pairing: You x Kyungsoo
Rating: M (Mature)
Word Count: 7300
Warnings: There were too many beds, Enemies to Lovers, lol slow burn, ust
Links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
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The delicious food in your belly, regardless of who cooked it, had turned you into a completely different person.
Suddenly the storm raging outside wasn’t the worst thing that had ever happened to you. You were alive, right? You were safe and you weren’t being eaten alive by man-eating spiders. Sure, you weren’t sitting on a beach enjoying a pina colada, but there was a tall, handsome man in this bunker kitchen with a blender, whipping up some mixed drinks that involved fresh fruit, something sweet and something sour, something red and orange, lots of ice, and even more rum. Javier looked up from his blender and sent you the smallest, secret and obviously flirtatious wink.
What? You gasped.
You had been staring, a bit lost in your own mind as whatever blood that had been in your brain was otherwise occupied with digesting your dinner, and you have to admit, you hadn’t at all expected it.
You’d been watching him work some magic with a…thing, a smashing thing, something involving the peels from the citrus he had been squeezing. Your cocktail lexicon was lacking. You hadn’t at all expected the wink and it felt so quick and sneaky that you felt a warmth creep up your cheeks that you covered with both of your hands as you looked away from him, glancing around yourself for witnesses. This wasn’t allowed, right? Was this kind of behavior typical for the Sinking Sands Resort?
A single pair of large, dark brown eyes watched you and those eyelids blinked slowly without the owner actually saying or doing anything. There wasn’t a scoff or an eye roll. He just watched you. He just knew it happened.
You could not name this feeling that filled up your stomach.
He had seen the wink. Maybe it was shame. It was uncomfortable. He had witnessed a man paying attention to you. That was not the issue, but he had seen your blushing reaction to the wink. He witnessed you caving so easily, a little attention from a man, from any man, and you were a melting, blushing mess. What must he think? That you weren’t the strong independent woman that the year 2024 demanded of you? That you were probably the type to sign away your checking and savings accounts to the first man could make you orgasm on the first try? That if someone saw you, but really, really saw you for who you were, deep down inside where your secret fantasies played, you might just cry about it in the shower in between all the fake arguments that you would have won if you only said that back then.
What was it called? The horrors of being known. And by Doh Kyungsoo of all people. The last thing you needed was that man knowing how desperate you felt for any bit of human affection. Your fingertips still ached from where you’d lightly touched the backs of his hands and drifted up his smooth forearms, sinking your fingertips into the firm muscles you felt there, as you used, probably the only chance you’d ever have to really stare at his lips while he was blindfolded.
What if he used it against you?
The blender whirled to life and soon Javier was serving up an icy blended cocktail, complete with a sweet cherry on top and a paper umbrella. He placed the whole pretty concoction in front of you with a friendly smile and you waited until his hands were free and clear of the entire drink before you reached for it, feeling quite silly for going out of your way to avoid touching his hands. While he was conventionally handsome, you had some reservations about openly flirting with the man who was technically at work. What if he got in trouble for being too friendly with the Shifting Sands guests.
The drink was delicious and very heavy on the alcohol. Javier was not the one paying for those fancy liquor bottles.
“How’s that?” Javier asked while wiping the counter top and wiggling his eyebrows up on his handsome face.
You bit your lip and nodded once, just one up and down. Tilting your head to the side, you tucked your hair behind your ear so anyone who might want to could get a good look at the smooth perfection of your neck. The top you wore was pretty low cut and while it gave the illusion of casual wear, it actually took an incredible amount of self awareness to keep it positioned in the most flattering place on your neckline. You then smiled your softest, sweetest smile, letting him know that it was just to your liking with a very dainty sip of the drink. You were aiming for cute. You sipped with too much conviction and the sip backfired. You felt the burn of the strong alcohol hit the back of your throat and instantly that burning made you want to cough. Ohhh, it burned.
There was no way to cough in a ladylike way. You held your breath instead and you could feel your eyes watering from the effort.
“I’ll make you something Mr. Doh. Are you a sweet, strong, or bitter kind of man?”
If ever a man was bitter…
“I’ll have the same thing,” Kyungsoo said with a shrug. You didn’t dare look in his direction for fear that he was observing you too closely again. Gathering dirt, most likely. You could make out his relaxed posture out of your peripheral vision. Elbow on the counter, his other arm draped across his thigh.
That arm moved though, and you caught a motion of him tucking his hair behind his ear; his hair that wasn’t even long enough to tuck, his hair that fell, black and straight just below his eyebrow and yet he pretended to tuck it and he then adopted a similar come hither posture with his shoulders sagged, his head tilted to the side and oh god. He was mocking you now. You were looking at him as he did it and his teasing eyes drifted to yours once, sending you the fakest, and most dramatic wink you’d ever received from anyone.
You’d stab him in the night time.
“Let’s see if I can make it without squeezing lemon in my eye again,” Javier giggled and lifted his index finger to rub over his eyelid — the winking eye —the fucking flirtatious winking eye that sent sweet and secretive suggestive signals at you earlier and you suddenly realized wasn’t a wink at all — ohhhh. Ohhh no. You were a fool. Worse, you were a fool with a witness. The shock brought the cough out of you. It was a loud, full-bodied, very un-maidenlike cough. You sounded burly. Like a 5 pack a day smoker.
Beside you, a loud snort of laughter broke through your coughing and in your peripheral vision, you could see him actually shaking as he openly laughed at you.
“Be careful with that lemon, Javier. Someone might think you were flirting with them, right, Princess?” Kyungsoo had angled his torso toward you — a better position for making fun of you as he sought your confession of what you’d just thought was taking place between you and this poor man behind the counter who was literally just trying to do his job, not the guests. Kyungsoo’s eyebrows wagged suggestively and his grin was wide and all too knowing.
You could feel the warmth of embarrassment on your face just below the surface of your skin.
You swallowed the burning alcohol in your mouth and did your best to steady the expression on your face.
You lifted your chin and you rolled your eyes, and then openly glared at the man, simply unable to come up with a single response that would save your ego. You might have even let out a threatening growl in his direction.
No, Javier hadn’t been flirting with you. No, there were no other men here who were eligible and interested in you. You’d learned earlier that Mr. Chen was a married man and devoted father of two little girls. Jun and Roxy had been an item for quite some time. Javier was more enamored with impressing the aloof Chef Doh, and well, Kyungsoo — he was winding down with his laughter but that didn’t mean he was about to stop torturing you anytime soon.
There was nothing and no one for you here. The rain outside had been steadily falling for quite some time now and you suddenly longed for an escape. The sound of the wind had died down a while ago and you longed to feel the coolness of the refreshing raindrops on your face. Maybe while you were out there a tornado would carry you far away from this jerk.
“I’m going to have a look outside. I want to go for a walk. I am going outside. Is there a way to go out?”
Kyungsoo was still watching you, his very own drink in hand and his mean words at your expense ever freely flowing from his stupid mouth.
“You sound like a dog that is slowly learning how to talk,” he muttered under his breath.
You inhaled a deep calming breath.
He’d picked up a big yellow lemon and was holding it up in front of his face like it was a ball he was about to throw. A teasing, shit-eating grin was plastered across his face.
If you could just smack him, only once. You’d make it a really good one.
His lips pursed and his voice lifted higher and sweeter.
“Does my Princess wanna go play with the ball outside?” He said it, but the second it was out he seemed to freeze in place.
“You —,” you gasped, fully caught off-guard by the usually cruel nickname said in that way — said with his falsely sweet voice and with all of his fake affection attached to it. You felt betrayed by your subconscious to be having a surge of this uninvited feeling simply because instead of with his usual disgust, he addressed you with — with — as if you were his Princess — the butterflies were quick to flutter up inside of you but you were just as quick with another swift gulp of this drink to shove them deep down inside your belly where they needed to stay.
My Princess
Pl—Please…it was laughable if it wasn't so damned impossible.
My Princess
As if —
You breathed in and out through several exasperated scoffs, each one more convincing than the last.
“You —” you swallowed the drink angrily, “sound like an ass—”
“Mr. Doh,” Sara’s voice called out, interrupting the bottom barrel scraping level insult you were about to hurl his way, which no doubt would have only escalated whatever was going on between the two of you right now. You were sure you could see remnants of that same teasing smile still lingering on his lips. His cheeks were much pinker than you remembered before. Maybe he was a lightweight and was feeling the effects of this strong drink already. Whatever bullshit he was shilling out, he certainly seemed to be enjoying himself. It did take a few moments for him to register that he was being called and actually respond to it.
“Could you come this way, please?” She asked a few breaths after she was sure she had his attention. Her smile was soft and inviting and in her hands she carried a single sheet of paper.
Your curiosity about where he was going popped like a bubble when a fresh drink landed right beside your empty glass on the counter. This one looked different. You looked up into Javier’s face and he was smiling at you with a small nod of his head toward the drink.
“This one might be a little stronger,” he grinned.
“Let me guess, your job is to get us both hammered so we spill our deepest darkest secrets all over this stainless steel countertop.” You reached for the drink. You had been joking but Javier wasn’t playing it off with jovial laughter as you’d expected him to.
In fact, he didn’t really say anything. He was just reaching for ingredients to make another drink.
Eventually though, after you’d given in to the silence and started sipping on what you liked the taste of right away — it reminded you of iced tea in color and tasted sweet and refreshing — he started to talk.
“So what is the deal with you two, anyway?” He asked first. You had a mouthful of alcohol. Your already finished half of the glass and paired with the first drink you had you were beginning to feel the familiar warm dizziness of the liquor buzzing around inside of you.
“How much alcohol is in this?”
“Lots,” he confessed, “We have a bet. I think you two are exes. Nasty breakup. Maybe one of you cheated, he’s a chef so I’m gonna say it was him. You know, job with long nights and questionable ethics. Plus something about you gives ‘good woman’ vibes.”
“Oh my god, no. We never dated, he is the devil,” you giggled. It wasn’t particularly funny but it felt funny; his dramatic story of a whirlwind romance and the kind of breakup that not only split the pair but caused an earthquake between the group of friends, forcing them to pick sides.
“But, you do like him.” It wasn’t a question, “and he likes you.”
“He does not. He hates me.”
“He likes you. And you didn’t deny it, so you like him.” His declaration sounded so sure you wondered what the hell kind of strong alcohol he had been taking swigs of when you weren’t looking.
“It doesn’t matter. We would probably end up killing each other before anything else happened between us.”
Javier pondered your words for only a few moments. “So what do you like about him?”
You felt weirdly comfortable and safe in this conversation. With Claire or with anyone else who knew you both mutually, you were extra guarded. You hated everything about Doh Kyungsoo. You never wanted to see his face ever again. You wanted to live in a world where he did not exist. But with Javier, with the quiet corner you both were hidden away in, with the alcohol in your blood, you could feel your caution beginning to slip.
“Why does anybody like anybody?” You shrugged in a sad way. You knew it didn't matter what you thought about him, the seeds had already been sewn with so much poison, nothing would ever grow. “He’s nice to look at. He’s nice to listen to when he isn’t calling me mean names, his voice sounds nice. He —” you lifted the black straw to your lips and drained the last bits of the tasty drink, “has a strong back. My grandma always said a man ought to have a strong back.”
“A strong back?”
“Yeah, like sturdy. Like a mountain. A redwood tree. Like an old, solid wood picnic table without a single crack even after generations of all of the grandchildren dancing on it at the same time. That rat bastard.” You inhaled slowly and deeply and exhaled through your lips with your eyelids sagging just a little bit.
“Jesus.” He whispered under his breath, “that’s possibly the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard in all of my years of working here.”
“I just called him a rat bastard,” you giggled and Javier laughed openly.
“Yeah you did. I’ve never been insulted with that much passion. Maybe you’ll get to test out the strength of his back soon.” He lifted his eyebrows as if he just said something that made any sense to you. You just stared at him, shaking your head after a few of his suggestive wiggles.
“If you still want to go outside there’s a small covered patio right out that door,” Javier lifted a bottle opener to point toward a big gray metal door at the back of the room, “I think the storm should be calmer now, but will probably pick back up again in about an hour. Should be safe for now but you should really come back inside if the wind gets bad again. I’ll send you another drink and maybe some company in a little while.”
Oh, was he getting rid of you now? You spun on the chair you were seated on and plopped your feet down on the tile floor, making you way toward that door, grabbing the thing and giving it a big push with all of your might.
It swung open easily enough and the outside air was fresh and chilly. There were no lights out here but the occasional lightning flashes gave your eyes a little bit of a chance to adjust to the darkness. The space was small, with a concrete bench built into the wall and the cover of this patio extended just enough for you to be able to sit down without getting splashed with the falling rain too much.
You were exactly the right amount of drunk. The rain falling sounded loud enough for your senses to cloud over and you leaned your head back against the cool concrete enjoying the way the noisy rain echoed off of that tin roof and reverberated inside of the center of your skull.
The wind still had some power. Occasionally a strong gust would bring a wave of rain your way and your bare legs would take the brunt of it. You didn’t care much, even though you knew you shouldn’t stay out here for too long in these shorts. It was just a little cold. You were sober enough to know what you should and should not do in a hurricane.
The sound of the door opening pulled your eyes back open and you looked through the space that opened up. It was Sara and she came bearing gifts.
“Javier said you were out here,” she said with a sweet smile and you scooched over just a little so she could sit down beside you on the side that wasn’t getting as much rain. She handed you a fresh drink and sat beside you, warming your cool bare arm with her warmth. She had an excited smile and what looked like a sparkle in her eyes. The moment her hands were empty she was gripping your arm. She was squealing lightly, a whispered and excited noise that came from the center of her chest and then she was shaking you in excitement.
“He likes you. Doh Kyungsoo,” she squealed right into your ear, “Oh my God. I could die.”
“He,” she was pulling your arm in big dramatic movements, she was shaking your whole body harder, ”likes,” saying each word one at a time, “you.”
You looked into this poor delusional woman’s face the moment the shaking stopped.
“Sara, he just called me a dog in there,” you said flatly. “Not a puppy or even a doggie. A dog. That’s one step up from bitch.” Her smiles dropped and you could see the worry on her face.
“What? Why? What exactly did he say?” Finally she was asking the real questions. No matter how much of a crazy jerk he was he wouldn’t say something like that to someone he liked. She had it all wrong.
“I said I wanted to come outside,” you lifted your hands to show the outside you were now partaking in, “and he said ‘does my little princess want to come outside and play with a ball’ and then he’s like ‘you know, like a dog? Because you are a dog.’ He didn't imply it. He said it.” You dropped your voice as low as you could go with your lady voice when you did the impression of him. You figured it was a pretty good likeness. You had his accent down and everything.
You reached for the drink and took a long pull through the straw.
Sara was silent, but she no longer sported the worried look. She now looked quite pleased actually.
“He calls you ‘my little Princess’ and you refuse to believe that he likes you?”
“No, you didn’t hear how he said it. He’s so mean about it. He says it like an insult like I’m a spoiled brat. He uses it sarcastically.” This drink was just as strong as the last one, the ice tea one.
“Why on earth do you think he likes me? He totally hates me.”
“He just told me.”
You looked into her face to gauge her truthfulness. She was a little fuzzy around the edges.
“He didn’t,” you said, “he’s very sarcastic when he talks. If you don't know to look for it you might misunderstand.” You’d deny it forever. You’d deny it to save yourself from the pain of giving into it and then being crushed by his overwhelming hatred the second he showed up. “Look, tell me exactly what he said and say it in the exact same tone he said it in. And what you said first, I’ll need the full context.”
“So we do these interviews periodically throughout the retreat, to gauge how well the singles are getting along with each other. As you saw earlier, I took him aside to talk. Basic things like is there anything he needs to make his stay more comfortable. He said he doesn’t expect much given the current circumstances so he’s just happy to have a dry place to sleep and warm food to eat. He doesn't want to be a bother, which I felt was very kind of him.”
“Then to kind of ease into the topic of possible love interests, I pointed out that he didn’t seem to fare too badly while cooking blindfolded. Not a single burn or a cut and he said,” She cleared her throat and lifted her chin, “‘I had the best assistant. She did really well in there.’” She had a very pleased look on her face. You on the other hand stared at her with a more doubtful expression.
“That’s it? Even I know how well I did in there. I did everything for him, of course I was the best assistant. He’s probably never experienced that kind of support while cooking, Jesus, I literally held each of his hands inside of my hands when he was cutting up that fucking fish. I had to hug him for that, you know.”
Sara was smiling and nodding, not understanding your point. It wasn’t romantic of him to say you were a good pair of eyes, it was literally just a fact.
“And how did that feel?” Sara whispered as she leaned in closer, “hugging him?” Her excitement level was too high, “did he smell nice?” She was enjoying this way too much, “did his back feel strong?” You could see it even in your inebriated state. You pushed a shoulder against hers in protest, bringing a giggle from her chest. You didn't answer her silly questions, even if the memory of the smell of his back was still ingrained inside of your nose. Even if he had a warmth to him that you longed to touch again, you refused to say any of this outloud.
“What was your very first impression of him like?” Her next question was calmly asked. She had settled down with the shaking and squealing and over the top ridiculous excitement when none was warranted and she looked into your face now, just a friend asking another friend about a guy.
“Umm,” you looked out at the falling rain, ignoring the way the wind picked up a little bit and whipped waves of rain onto your leg, up higher on your thigh now that it had started getting a little wild, “I actually saw him from a distance at first. My friend Claire was hosting a dinner and he was sitting at the end of this really long table and wow, what a face. Just, some people get to walk around looking that handsome and nobody says anything?” You were giggling when you met Sara’s eyes and you noticed your drink was mostly empty already. These things went down so easily. The once perfect level of drunk you had was beginning to tip over the edge toward downright tipsy. You hoped to God you had enough self control tonight to slow down. This team obviously wasn’t about to slow down on offering you the alcohol, this was part of their plan.
“And, I mean, our friends, our mutual friends, they even tried to set us up once but,” you frowned dramatically and looked away from her expecting eyes, “I mean, he hates me of course. It didn’t work out. It would never work, we are both just…” You let your words trail off with a long dramatic sigh.
“He said he couldn’t stop looking at you,” Sara’s voice filled in the silence after your sigh, “that his first impression of you,” she inhaled a breath and her hand wrapped back around your arm as her eyebrows lifted in wonder, “was that you were so pretty he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.”
Impossible. She was lying to you to get you to confess something incriminating. You looked down at the third very strong drink these people had fed you and you could feel it then, just how very drunk you had become in such a short amount of time. Your memory slipped back to what she had asked you.
‘Did his back feel strong?’
This was part of it. This was part of the game they were playing to get you both to grow closer to each other. To get you to admit to things. You had told Javier earlier about your feelings for Kyungsoo and now Sara knew this information. She was using your own words to push you into him, telling you exactly what he had said about you just as — you gasped suddenly with your eyes widening — just as Javier was probably telling Kyungsoo right now exactly what you had said about him.
No. No, he shouldn’t know that. He couldn't know that.
You stood up and your legs were wobbly.
“No, Sara. He is a bastard and I am a dog, remember? We hate each other and there is no getting past hate.”
You hadn’t heard the sound of the door opening.
“I hate that man.”
The wind had been too loud. The rain had been falling in stinging waves against your skin. The storm had been raging too wildly for you to have heard anything else.
You fought through the terrible feeling of your entire back being soaked and you fought the lies they tried to get you to fall for, just so you could believe it all, believe that there was even a glimmer of attraction and affection from him and then they would all giggle and laugh when he broke your heart and rejected you again.
“He’s always only been a bastard and a jerk. If it wasn’t for this storm, I would be on the first plane far away from him the second I saw his face in that room earlier. You couldn't pay me enough money to stay here with him.”
They didn’t know. They didn't know what it felt like to have been rejected by him. They didn't know how much it hurt for him to put you in your place, again and again.
“I would be so much happier if I never met him.”
You had already said so many terrible things by the time you saw his eyes — dark, cold and angry. He was standing in the doorway listening to your long speech about how much you despised everything about him and how desperate you were to get away from him.
Oh no. Oh no, all of that had been — had been too harsh of you — You were only trying to stop all of the games but he heard it all.
He was moving through the doorway and there was a loud bang as the wind took the heavy metal door and slammed it closed.
His eyes were on fire. The words that left his lips were full of carefully controlled emotion.
”You’ve never even met me. You don't fucking know me,” he wasn’t yelling, he was growling at you.
“But you sure like to act like you do. You don't know shit. So you can step down off your high fucking horse. Quit pretending like you’re somehow a victim of my terrible personality and look in the fucking mirror for once because one of us an asshole and it sure as hell isn’t me.”
He wasn’t raging and speaking loud or irrationally and that somehow made it worse. That didn’t change the way his low voice delivered his message to you with the same amount of vitriol. If anything, his clear delivery made his words hit you even harder. He was very angry and he was upset with you. You felt every bit of his anger deep inside of your belly, it made your stomach burn and clench.
You lifted both of your hands in front of you in some stupid attempt to respond to him with body language.
This wasn’t right. He wasn’t supposed to have heard any of that.
You felt as if your entire face might be burning up. You felt shame in this.
All other times you’d fought with him, the right and the wrong had been crystal clear. He was wrong and you had been right. He was the bad guy and you were the good guy. But now, this time, and with the look of actual hurt you could see deep inside of his brown eyes you felt something different.
“Kyungsoo, wait. That’s not what I meant.” You managed to get the words out. You weren’t sure why you felt so desperate to set the record straight with him but it was probably what you knew deep down inside.
He was right. You were the asshole here. H-Had it always been you?
“I’ll just — step inside so you two can talk,” Sara had stood up and moved to the door, far away from the upset that was filling most of this back patio up with an uncomfortable atmosphere that you could almost not breathe within.
But you were trapped here, with him and his anger and his hurt feelings and — and — but, wait a minute. Why exactly were his feelings hurt? Because you called him a bastard? That wasn’t new. Because you proclaimed your desire to escape him? He frequently did the same.
Why did it matter to him what you thought?
You were insignificant to his life.
The door closed behind her and you were standing as far away from the man as you could. Most of your entire back was soaked with rain. You could feel the cold from the harsh wind beginning to prickle your skin and make you shake just a little bit.
Kyungsoo had stood to face you for a while but when you didn’t immediately offer any explanation like ‘it’s Opposite Day today! You say the opposite of how you really feel because it's fun. Isn’t this fun?’ he moved to sit down on the concrete bench and he stared ahead looking at the rainstorm but not actually seeing it.
After a few deep breaths you reached down deep and pulled out some words for him.
“They’re playing a g-game with us. There is-sa game happening right now.” You sounded drunk. This might work against you. His eyes moved from blank staring into the blackness of that rainstorm to blank staring at you. His arms were crossed over his chest and he still looked very mad.
“That man in there,” you lifted a finger to point toward Javier and you made a fist, moving it downward to pantomime the smashing motions he was making with the smashing thing back then when he was doing his smashing. You motioned three times and then quickly realized your hand, moving up and down like this resembled an obscene gesture. Oh god. Did you just do the hand gesture for jerking off?
“Oh my god,” you whispered, quickly moving both of your hands behind your back. “That man,” you motioned with your chin instead, “is gathering information. He is a spy. They all are.”
Kyungsoo’s eyebrows had flattened out but he was still looking at you with that same blank expression. So far, so good. You would get him to see the truth.
“What did he tell you about me? Did he tell you something like—” you lifted your face, looking up and to the left toward the ceiling of this patio, making a quick decision about what sorts of your secrets Javier might have told Kyungsoo. It was tricky because you weren’t about to offer up the exact same secrets.
You couldn't get the secrets out. Instead you made a “mmm mmm” sound in the place of the words you might have told Javier about how handsome you found him, or about how nice his voice sounded as he whispered instructions to you as you both were cooking earlier. What if he said the thing, the strong back thing?
“Is your question to me, Did that man,” Kyungsoo lifted his hand and quickly jerked off the air three times, “tell me mmm mmm mmm something?”
You nodded your head, thankful that he was so good at solving puzzles. He understood.
But he wasn’t answering. He just sat up straighter, his eyes opened wider and he repeated the question you had asked him.
“Did that man tell me mmm mmm mmm something?”
“Yeah,” you nodded again, stepping just a little bit closer to where he sat. You were getting colder now.
“What the fuck does that mean?” His eyes were even wider now. “What does that mean? Are you having a stroke?”
You could hear genuine frustration in his voice. He was lifting his hands toward you. You’d misjudged his puzzle solving skills.
You closed your eyes and took another step, reaching his knee with your knee, you reached out and touched his outstretched hand. Maybe this might help with your words.
“Okay, so earlier, S-Sara,” it was difficult to grasp tight to her name but after a few tries you got it, “S-Sara told me that you,” you lifted your finger and reached out toward his face, landing your index finger right in the middle of his soft bottom lip. You pressed down and his lips parted with the softest gasp for air, “she said that you told her, and she told me, that you told her,” he lifted a hand and wrapped it around your hand, pulling your finger down from poking his lip as you figured this puzzle out. You looked down at the picture of his hand holding yours. “She said you thought I was pretty.” His lips were still parted and his warm hand was still wrapped around yours, holding you still, keeping you from blowing away in this wind.
“She told me you said that. That was a lie, right? They’re playing games with us.”
His lips were closed and his eyes were still watching your face. It didn’t seem like he was any closer to working out an answer to this puzzle.
“What lies did they tell you I said about you?”
Something flew by, something bigger than a leaf, maybe a small tree branch. You heard it hit the column that supported this patio and the sound of it made you jump as you spun around to see what it was.
“We should go in. It’s getting worse out here. And you seem extremely drunk.” When Kyungsoo finally responded to you, he didn’t answer any of your questions.
”Did Javier say anything about a mountain, or a p-picnic table?”
Kyungsoo stood up when you were distracted by the branch. He had spun on his heels and had walked away from you, leaving you half drenched and so close to the edge of this patio that the next swift gust could have easily thrown you off the platform down into the mud.
“Because they are lying.” You grasped for it. You leaned into it. You grasped and you leaned only where you expected to feel the strong sturdy column from this patio you felt none, and when you leaned you leaned against nothing at all and you felt the world leaving your body. You felt the falling. The falling scared you enough to let out a cry of fear. There was no floor beneath your feet, you were only falling down, how far did this step drop down onto the wet earth below?
You closed your eyes and braced for the impact. It would probably hurt. It might even break something. You’d ruin your outfit at the very least. You closed your eyes and you felt someone there. Someone warm and sturdy with smooth arms that circled around your waist, pulling you back from the edge with such strength and force you knew it had to be him. It had to be someone with a strong back who could support you and keep you from falling down.
You grasped at him, pulling yourself up with tight fists clenched around the white cotton of his shirt and when you opened your eyes the world had righted itself again. There was no more falling and no more panic. Your feet were planted firmly on this patio floor, situated directly in between his feet, your arms around his shoulders and his arms wrapped tightly around your waist and the rain that fell onto both of your heads dripped through his hair, pulling wet strands of black hair down in front of his eyes, obscuring most of his vision except for what he was looking at right in front of him, which was your face, which he looked all over without speaking. Those eyes touched over every one of your features and with each second that passed of it the more you began to feel the warmth returning to and soon overwhelming your skin.
You’d never be this close to him before this. You’d never wanted to be, before this. You let your eyes drift from the up close view of his lips to take in the view of his face. You allowed the smallest gasp to leave your chest. There was a thumping inside of you that seemed to originate from somewhere inside of him. Water ran down his face and you pulled your lips in, tasting rain water on your tongue.
“Inside. Now.” His command growled against your parted lips and you tasted the light fragrance of alcohol on his breath. The grip of his arms around your waist did not loosen despite the urgency you heard in his words.
Your hands should not have been moving but they were. The back of his shoulders and that plain white t-shirt was soaked through and the rain continued to fall over the both of you. When your hand traveled up the back of his shoulders and rested over the back of his neck you felt the incredible tension within his muscles there. He was solid and stiff and your hands should not have moved any more but you had a very flimsy grasp of your own self control
From the back of his neck you moved again, touching lightly around the front of him, fingertips trailing over his Adam’s apple and up to touch his pretty face.
The tension you felt within his arms changed when you let your fingertips trail over to his soft cheeks and when you touched the soft plump bottom lip you felt the clench of his jaw, the exhale of air through his nose and the tightening of his arms around your waist. His eyes were closed and that same thumping echoed throughout your chest.
“What did Javier tell you I said?” Your whispered question was stunted through the difficulty you had with breathing.
“That you thought I was someone with strong back muscles. I guess you need someone to help you move furniture. I don’t fucking know.”
You let out a laugh and his eyes opened to watch your face. He said it with a straight face but there was something just under his words that sounded like humor. The more time you spent with him, the more you actually began to pick up on the fact that most of the shit he said was a joke in disguise. Most of it. Sometimes he was just being mean. But this one was actually funny. You threw your head back with the laugh and his eyes danced around your entire face as you wound back down.
“You better not call me to help you move. We aren’t close enough for that.”
The real irony was this man saying something like that while still holding you tight up against his entire body like this. You were pretty sure he brought you back up to a normal body temperature by lending you the heat directly from his skin.
“Did you really tell Sara that?” You couldn’t bring yourself to say the words. There was a change in his posture when you asked it though.
You felt his arms loosen. You felt one arm leave you entirely and he reached around in front of himself to grab ahold of your hand, the same wandering one which had been touching his lips tonight and he wrapped his fingers around your hand, encasing it within his warmth and he pulled it down.
You felt the absence of his heat first, then the wobbliness of your legs returned to you, reminding you of just how drunk and cold you actually were.
“You’re soaking wet,” his words followed a quick glance down the length of you and even in this darkness you could make out the traveling of his pupils. You knew the fabric of this top and the too-short shorts would have clung to the shape of you — outlining the swell of your hips, the cinch of your waist, your soft breasts — giving his imagination too much to work with in the unlikely instance that he would be so inclined to have any sorts of imaginations about you, you’d given him the material for such impossible impossibilities.
It didn’t matter.
It would never happen. He was turning away from you, taking his warmth and body heat and muscles covered in transparent thin white cotton on top and flimsy black fabric that when the lighting flash just right gave you the outline of what you both knew was occurring between your hips and his hips when they’d been pressed up tightly against each other.
He was leaving and the big metal door slammed shut and before you could even shout out from behind him, calling him a coward for avoiding your question — and before you could even tell him how absolutely full of shit he was, the door opened back up and Sara was at your side with soft, dry, warm towels and a crowd of fussing and fretting Shitty Sands Resort staff members were all blabbering on about how lucky you were that you didn’t actually fall off that patio onto the jagged rocks and cactus (!!) below and how heroic and magnanimous Doh Kyungsoo was to have saved your pathetic and insignificant life.
He spun the tale to a crowd of very impressed ooh-ers and ahh-ers and you were far too drunk to add anything more than to throw out the random accusation that the entire group of them were dirty spies and the occasional request to go back outside which was shut down instantly by every single voice in the room.
Links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
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proudahgase-exol · 3 months
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♡ ᴊᴏɴɢɪɴ ᴀꜱ ᴀ ʙᴏʏꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ ♡
Jongin x reader
-this is how I imagine Kai to be as a BF.
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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.
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marshmallow-phd · 3 months
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A Manor of Shadow and Blood
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Genre: Regency Gothic AU
Pairing: EXO x Reader
Summary: A stormy night brought you to the manor in the middle of the woods. Nine strange men occupied its halls. They won’t let you leave. A dangerous secret haunts this estate. Learning it might either be your saving grace or it could lead to the last breath you ever take.
Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5
**
The grand hall was lit as bright as midday. Every surface was polished to perfection, reflecting the candlelight at a greater force. Brilliant brass and gold surrounded you as you made your way through the dancing couples, their movements in perfect sync. Wrapped in each other's arms, they spin around without a care for your wandering presence. 
While all who surrounded you were decorated in blacks and whites, your own dress was the color of freshly spilled blood. The heavy skirts that hug from your waist made it difficult to navigate the ballroom. Their fullness was of an older fashion, one that maybe your grandmother would have worn in her youth. The dropped shoulders left you exposed, your skin chilled despite the amount of bodies in here. 
You kept navigating the dance floor, on the look out for something, though you didn’t know what. Then you felt the familiar burn of eyes boring into your back, which sent a shiver down your spine. You whirled around to find the source, the dress brushing at your feet with the sudden motion. Through the crowd, you spotted Baekhyun leaning against the wall. With a single finger, he beckoned you over. And you obeyed. 
Breaking through the sea of dancers, you took in his elegant suit, the hems lined with gold thread that shimmered against black velvet. 
"You shouldn't dance alone," he purred. Arms crossed over his chest, he smirked at you with a grin even the devil wouldn't wear.
"I have no partner," you retorted. He held out a lazy hard. Hardly the romantic gesture. "No, thank you." 
"How about me?" asked a sweet voice in your ear. 
You turned your head to find Junmyeon at your back. He laid a soft hand on your hip to keep you from escaping out of propriety. When you didn’t shove him away, the hand slyly moved to your stomach, pulling your bare shoulder blades into his chest. With the fingers of his left hand, he tilted your chin towards him. 
"Am I a suitable partner?" 
No answer passed your lips. You could think of nothing to say. The thought of him twirling you around the dance floor was not… unpleasant. 
Junmyeon neither needed nor cared for a reply. He dipped his head to your shoulder and pressed a kiss to the skin. A small gasp passed your lips. And then he pressed another. More and more as he climbed up the curve of your neck. Heat rose from every inch of you as you sighed into the affectionate touches. You relaxed into his touch, welcoming each new contact of his lips. 
"It's rude not to share, Junmyeon.”
Your attention snapped back to Baekhyun, who you had forgotten was there. He pushed himself off the wall and stepped closer to you so he stood in front of the minor. 
No, not a mirror. There was no reflection. 
Except… there was. The mirror reflected the floor, the ceiling, the candlelight. You. 
But not Baekhyun. Not Junmyeon. And not the dancers still spinning behind you. 
Fingers snaked through your hair and pulled your head back, your vulnerable neck exposed. From the gallery above, Kyungsoo watched as elongated fangs flashed behind Junmyeon’s lips and plunged into your neck. 
*****
You woke with a start, the blanket flying off of you as you sat up in a fury. Sweet drenched every pore of your skin. Your day old dress clung to your skin in a way that felt suffocating. Each breath was a struggle for your lungs. 
Vampires. The nightmarish tale that had kept you up as a child until you were convinced they weren't real turned out to be true. But how could they be real? 
Creatures of the night. Blood drinkers. Horror stories meant to keep children from wandering about after dark. 
Curling your legs to your chest and encasing them in your arms, you tried to think of a way out. To escape. With what strength you possessed, you slid off the bed and walked over to the window. The sun, so bright and full of life, was just beginning its descent towards the horizon. Night–their domain–was hours away. If the legends were true, then they would all be asleep at this moment. Any risk that was to be taken had to be taken now. 
After changing into a sturdier dress, you retrieved your still mud-covered boots and, keeping them in one hand, you carefully pushed away the pathetic barrier and snuck out of the room. 
Each step was taken with unmatched caution. You tested every board with your foot before fully committing. Any squeak of a floor or stumble down a stair could alert them to your escape. But by the grace of a miracle, you made it to the front door. Fingers trembling, you pulled on the boots and tied up the laces before opening the door only wide enough for you to slink through. 
The next breath taken outside was like the first breath of life. But there was no time to take it in. 
Gathering your skirts in your grip, you took off into the trees. The dirt was dry and sturdy under your feet. Branches and leaves crunched with the weight of your boots. A lady’s delicacy was out of the question as you ran without abandon. You didn't know what direction you were running. But vampires needed blood to survive and they weren’t drinking yours. And Jongdae had brought those buns from a bakery, not their own kitchen. You doubted any of them knew how to cook. That meant a village or town had to be nearby. Junmyeon had lied about the isolation of the manor. If you just kept going, you could find freedom. 
However, your stamina was running out. This was never your preferred activity. Your lungs and throat burned in an unfamiliar way. The sun still shined above. A short respite could be spared. 
You leaned against a tree trunk for support. In your boots your feet pulsed. Only now did you realize that you had run away without food or water. Not knowing where the kitchen was located, you didn't have time to waste on it. You could survive, you told yourself. Just a little farther. The town couldn’t be too far. Unless you were headed in the wrong direction. 
A rustling rippled through the silent forest. You snapped to attention, trying to find the source. 
“The wind,” you gasped between ragged breaths. “It had to be the wind.” 
A low, rumbling growl said it wasn't wind. 
In the distance, large silhouettes emerged. Wolves. Nearly a dozen of them. 
You ran as fast as your crying legs could take you. With their superior nature built for the hunt, the wolves caught up to you within seconds. Their growls and howls grew louder and more threatening behind you. Running from the manor had been easy. Running from the wolves was to be your end. 
Powerful paws slammed into your back. You were thrown to the ground, rolling across the ground as a scream ripped at your throat. The momentum stopped you on your stomach. Hair covered your face, but you could still see your death through the strands. 
Wolves of gray and black gathered in a half moon circle. They had their prey in perfect position. The middle wolf pounced. All you had time to do was throw up your arms to protect your face. Claws raked across your forearm. Another scream echoed through the merciless trees. The wolf landed on the other side of you with pride. Now you were surrounded. A second wolf leapt. 
A blur appeared in front of you and collided with the wolf midair. The two bodies tumbled across the forest floor. A human and the wolf. 
Not a human. 
Chanyeol. The wolf trapped within his grasp, Chanyeol tightened his grip–
Crack. 
The wolf fell limply to the ground, its tongue hanging from its jaw. 
The others appeared seconds later. Not understanding what they were up against, the wolves let you go to attack the newest threat. 
"Are you alright?" Junmyeon knelt down in front of you. His hands were outstretched as if you were the wild animal on the verge of attack. Behind him, snarls and whimpers told of the fight–and who was winning. Despite not answering him, he caught sight of your bleeding arm. "We need to get back to the manor." 
He didn't ask permission before picking you up into his arms and sprinting through the forest. Everything blurred past you, your loose hair whipping at your face. He burst through the manor doors and didn't stop until he was able to set you down in the largest chair. Once you were safe, he fell to his knees, only his palms keeping him upright. The others soon stumbled in behind him, heaving and collapsing onto the floor. Only then did you notice the smoke floating up from each of their backs. Patches of burnt, red skin sizzled on their knuckles and faces. Anything that had been exposed to the sun. 
"Baekhyun," Junmyeon gasped. 
"I already have it." Kyungsoo came into the parlor with bottles stacked in his arms. He quickly passed them around, waiting until the others were quenching their thirst before pulling the cork out of his own bottle and chugging the contents. 
With his bottle empty, Junmyeon tossed it to the side and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. Red smears stained the ivory fabric. You shrank back in the chair as he turned towards you. 
"What hell were you thinking!" He growled. "I warned you about the wolves!" 
"Junmyeon, she's shaken up enough," Jongdae defended. Before your eyes, his burnt skin healed to be like new.
"She could have been killed!" 
Your head was pounding. He was… concerned about your life? The legends said that the sun was a vampire's deadliest enemy. It was why they thrived in the darkness. But they had all risked a final death to come after you. 
"Did you hear me scream?" you whispered. You could barely feel your own lips moving. All heads tuned to you. 
Yixing was the one to answer. "Yes. We all heard you." 
"Why were you out there?" Sehun asked aggressively.
You sucked in a sharp breath. There was no escaping the truth now. You stared at Jongdae. "I figured it out.” 
Baekhyun laughed. "At least we don't have to walk around delicately anymore." 
"When exactly did you do so?" Minseok mocked.
"Then you should remember what I said to you before was true. Harm would not come to you within these walls." Junmyeon crouched down next to the chair. His eyes... there was something behind the darkness that tugged at your still wildly beating heart. "I know you were running away. And if you're desperate to get away enough to get yourself killed, then the choice can be yours. We can send you on your way with every provision. Or," he cleared his throat, "you stay here. With us." 
A choice? He was giving you a choice?
Your gaze drifted over the faces that stared back at you. Even Kyungsoo refused to look away while he waited. There was almost a plea in his expression, a subtle beg. But was it to stay? Or for you to run as far away as possible? 
Junmeyon took your attention away when he picked up your wounded arm with delicate fingers. His pleading was much more clear. 
To leave would be the better choice. The more sane choice. But what would happen afterwards? You could claim being lost in the woods. With evidence of the carriage and the missing driver, what else could they believe? After a few days on bed rest, you would be back by your aunt's side, following her every whim. Including indulging her on a "perfectly adequate" suitor because you had no other option, no other path. That suitor who would then become your future. But you didn't want it. You refused to give in to it. 
Already within these few days, you were… changed in a way. They might not be human, but these men would forever be burned into your memory. Who could move you with music the way Chanyeol had? What silent strength could match the aura of Junmyeon? You had been promised that none of them would harm you. The chance for something extraordinary was right in front of you. The kind of chance you had only read about. It just had to be taken.
"I think… I think I want to stay."
*****
The moon became an ever changing friend. You hardly saw the sun anymore. Like the men you had given yourself over to, you lived under the stars. It was oddly beautiful. This time was often forgotten about by you and many others. The night was only a background to your time within your dreams. But now it was your entire world. 
Every evening, you awoke to the dying orange light of the day. Breakfast always waited for you outside the door. It was the rule that no one broke; none could enter your room without explicit permission from you. Those walls remained your safe haven when things grew too overwhelming. 
Despite your decision to stay, discovering that other creatures walked the earth required a step away once in a while. Especially now, with you aware of their true nature, the men were refusing to hold back. 
Dropping from the roof, running around with spectacular speed, and lifting objects that ten men couldn't hold. It was remarkable. Except for the diet and inability to walk in the sun, the… condition seemed more like a blessing.
"You're rather thoughtful this evening,” Jongdae commented. He walked beside you like he did every twilight. 
After you finished your breakfast, you met Jongae at the front doors to go on a walk around the manor grounds. Often others would join you as well. Junmyeon was the most frequent, though Yixing, Changed, and Jongin made many appearances over the past week and a half. Boundaries were constantly tested, but one word from you and they retreated.
"I guess you could say I am thoughtful tonight," you finally sighed. You hadn’t realized that you were being so obviously quiet. Funny, since you would have thought Jongdae would enjoy the silence. You typically had many questions or comments of your own to make. 
"Should I go steal a penny from Sehun?" 
You laughed. "I'd like to think my thoughts are worth more than a single penny.”
"They must be if you've become so skilled in deflecting from them." He crossed over to block your path. Gaze narrowed, he studied your carefully guarded expression. "What are you thinking about so hard? Regretting your decision to stay already?" 
"No," you insisted. "Not at all."
He raised an eyebrow that simply asked, "Then what?" 
"Do you always stay here?" you countered. "At the manor, I mean." 
"We travel," Jongdae answered with a nod. "Not too often. It’s a bit difficult, you see."
"But we like traveling north.” Minseok dropped from who-knew-where, landing with barely bent knees and hands folded behind his back. "In the winter, the night lasts longer. Junmyeon has a small hunting lodge up there. 
A hunting lodge? "Then why do you stay here?" 
Minsoek shrugged. "This manor is bigger." 
"Having nine of us in one household can be a bit volatile,” Jongdae added. He stepped aside to continue the stroll. "We need the room to separate so we don't level a building." 
Your foot caught on an invisible lump in the grass. "You could destroy a building while fighting?" 
Minseok snickered as he caught your stumble and helped steady your stance. His hand lingered at your waist until your sharpened glare made him remove it. "We haven’t crumbled a wall in a few years."
You scoffed at the casual tone. "What sort of fight caused that?" 
"I can't remember." Minseok leaned forward slightly to look at Jongdae for help. But he didn't seem to recall either. 
"Who knows what started it between Chanyeol and Kyungsoo.”
Your mouth dropped open in shock. Kyungsoo and Chanyeol had fought over something to the point of destroying a wall to crumble? It didn't feel plausible. Neither seemed like the hot-headed sort. You wanted to know the igniting incident so desperately. 
Both Jongdae and Minseok suddenly whipped their heads towards the front of the manor. 
"What is it?" you asked when neither offered an explanation. 
"Junmyeon's calling for us." Jongdae scooped you up into his arms without warning. At your confused expression, he explained, "We're not leaving you alone out here." Remember your last adventure in the woods lingered in the silence.
The short lived wind whipped at your hair that you still wore loose to cover your neck. As soon as he stopped running, you wiggled out of his arms to be back on your feet. Everyone else was already gathered just outside the door. Several eyed you and Jongdae with suspicious and annoyed glares. You took a step away from him for some separation. 
Clearing his throat, Junmyeon called everyone to attention. "We have to go hunting–real hunting. Now, normally, we all go together, but now that we have our guest," he nodded towards you, "some will have to stay behind with her until the first party… comes back." 
"If you all need to go,” you couldn't quite speak the word feed, "then I'll be alright. For a few hours, at least." You weren't sure how long this excursion would take.
Junmyeon's features softened. "No. We'll go in groups. Chanyeol, Kyungsoo, Minseok and I will go first. We shouldn't be gone long." He reached out and patted the top of your head before disappearing into the trees. Kyungsoo gave no goodbye as he followed suit. The last two playfully shoved each other while taking off. 
"Come." Yixing took hold of your hand and started pulling you inside. "I want to show you something."
"But–" You had wanted to ask Jongdae a question, but the traitor was already gone, off somewhere to do something he would never tell you about. So, you let Yixing take you into the manor and up the main staircase at the end of the hallway. At least he let you stay on your own feet instead of insisting on going at his speed. 
Going down an unfamiliar hallway, you were reminded how big this place was and how much you still had to explore. The men occupied most of your time, vying for your attention and pulling you this way and that so you didn’t have much time on your own. It was odd and overwhelming at times. 
During your seasons in town, you were hardly a well-sought after prize. There were prettier girls with grander dowries. You had accepted that fact. Now you were the center of a courting dance to which you knew none of the steps and possessed endless partners. 
Yixing paused in front of a door that looked identical to all the others. He kept his fingers tight around yours as he slowly turned the knob with his free hand. The door swung open. 
The gasp inhaled through your parted lips wasn't enough to convey your awe. 
Maps of all the places you'd heard of and dozens more you hadn't covered the walls like homemade wallpaper. Slipping out of Yixing's grip, you walked further into the study, spinning slowly around to take it all in. The maps were varying degrees of tan, some as light as his skin, others as dark as animal leather. 
Instead of bookshelves, doorless cabinets waist high lined three of the walls. Their squared shelves were stuffed full of parchment and ink and quills. A lone sketcher's desk sat in the middle, an unfinished drawing laying against the tilted surface. 
"What is this place?"
"It's my personal study," Yixing answered as he laid a hand on the edge of the desk. "Kyungsoo gave it to me after I had accidentally taken over one of the parlors." 
Your awe increased ten-fold. Your initial assumption was that he was a collector, not the original artist. "You drew all of these?" 
He nodded almost... shyly. "I did. I was a cartographer. Before." 
"Before?" You understood what he meant, but you didn't know how to ask for the story. 
Turning his eyes to the parchment, he pinched it between his fingers. "I didn't just love traveling. I loved capturing it on paper. I wanted to make these places into art, but not like every other painting. I wanted them to be perfect. Exact replicas as if you were staying at them from God’s point of view. And I wanted to be the best. I couldn't be, though. I wasn’t good enough." 
You moved closer to him, entranced in the story. "What happened?"
A rueful smile tightened at his lips. "I was given a chance to become perfect. What I didn't know was that I traded everyone knowing my maps for the talent to make it happen." Sorrow rolled from him like the tide warning of an oncoming storm. 
Feeling the pull to comfort him, you reached out and covered his fidgeting hand with your own steady fingers.
"People will be able to know your work some day," you whispered. "I’m sure of it." 
Perhaps you had been a bit too forward, a bit too open. 
Yixing moved gracefully forward to eliminate most of the space between you. A smooth thumb that once must have been calloused when it was human caressed the edge of your jaw. His flickering eyes made intentions obvious. 
Clearing your throat, you stepped out of the touch. "Why isn't this one finished?" You pointed to the drawing on the desk. It was an aerial view of the manor, with the top half of the parchment containing the beginning edges of the garden hedges. Disappointed, Yixing sighed and went along with your distraction. 
"I'm still working out the maze. It is intricate. Much more than I was prepared for." 
"Goodness." You were thankful that you hadn't wandered in there yet, especially on your own.
"Yixing.” 
Both of you turned towards the door to find Sehun standing under the frame. 
"Yes, Sehun?" Yixing said through somewhat gritted teeth. The young vampire wasn't phased. 
"I need to speak with you." 
"Fine." None of you moved. 
Sehun looked at you with a pointed glare.
You received the hint loud and clear. "I'll leave you, then.” 
With more relief than you cared to admit, you scurried out of the room and down the hallway. 
Around the corner, you pressed your back against the wall and forced yourself to take deep breaths that filled your lungs to capacity. Panic had been the response at Yixing's closeness. You didn't mean for that to be the response. You didn't want to be closed off to any of them. But you couldn't help it. Maybe it was merely the closeness of the situation. 
Giving yourself a small amount of grace, you pushed off the wall and made your way downstairs. So used to your time being absorbed by the men that you weren't sure what to do with yourself. Two of the ones that remained behind were currently occupied. As for the three others, they could have been anywhere. 
You wandered around the main floor with a fleeting hope that one would come to find you. Then you saw them. A row of grand doors evenly spaced along the north wall called you forward.
The grand ballroom took your breath away. Not so dissimilar to the one in your dream, though this one’s lack of warmth and light left you heartbroken. Memories of dancing figures and lively music haunted these walls. In the corner, you could imagine a small orchestra strumming their instruments in delight. 
You walked to the center where dozens of pairs used to twirl and bow and embrace each other in time with the melody. Ghostly laughter echoed in your ears. What had once been  bright and golden and full of life was dull, dark, and covered in cobwebs that swayed in the breeze of unknown origin. 
Glancing around, you confirmed that you were truly alone before closing your eyes, lifting your arms, and began a soft hum. 
You danced with an invisible partner in the fashion that your grandfather had taught you as a small child. It was more intimate than the choreographed dances currently popularized. You had always imagined your first ball like this, instead of the disappointment you really experienced. You had pictured a boy you didn’t know catching your eye. As the music was struck up, he laid a hand on your waist.
Just like now. 
Hm. Your imagination was running wild, even pretending the weight of a palm was there on your lower back. And now in your lifted left hand. 
No. That wasn’t your imagination. 
Your eyes snapped open. 
Jongin had taken the place of your imagined partner. He smiled down at you with a feline smirk as his hands tightened around you, refusing to let you slip away. There was no choice in leaving this musicless dance. You had stopped humming but he continued to whirl you around the marble floor. He controlled the dance, in charge of every step. He led with an expertise he shouldn’t have possessed–if he were a man of this age. 
In one final move, he slipped his arm fully around your waist, pulling you so close that no room remained between you. Without breaking the spin, he lifted you from the floor as if you were no more than a kitten and whirled you around like the heroine from your favorite novel.
When the spin came to a close, he set you back on your feet, but didn’t let go. Your lungs heaved from the exercise–and from the way your bodies pressed together. Each rise of your chest brought you even closer to Jongin. He kept your gaze like a stablehand trying to calm a wild horse. His right hand slipped from your fingers, softly tracing the delicate inside of your arm. The touch left behind a fire you couldn’t explain. A cold, simmering fire.
He cupped your jaw as his eyes drifted down to your lips. This was a different reaction to Yixing’s wandering gaze. Not panic, but something similar. 
Jongin held you in place as he leaned down, his lips pressing gently into the corner of yours. The thin breath in your lungs hitched. He lifted his lips only to find a new patch of skin. The delicate skin covering your pulse. Every muscle in your body froze. He kissed the skin softly. Surely, he could feel the race of your blood. 
“Whenever you need a partner,” he said in a hush against your neck, “just whisper my name.”
And then, he was gone. 
You stared off at the empty path left behind Jongin. The sheer hubris.
His name lingered on your lips, wondering if he would really come back like he said. But you kept the whisper inside and left the ballroom just the same. 
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destiny2skeleton · 4 months
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Titan Guardian ——— Serpent - 4 Exo Titan
My very special exo boy that is a bit smaller than usual titan- He is mute, but despite this he can make little squeaking noise especially when giving out ways to show his love!
He also has stickers all over his exo body due to his part time hobby in the city being a part time mermaid for hanging with the kiddos ( he refuses to remove them.)
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papermatisse · 4 months
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Lost and Found || B.BH
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♔ pairing: dionysus!byun baekhyun x f!ariadne!reader
♔ genre: angst, one-shot, fluff
♔ word count: 3.5k
♔ warnings: abandonment, murder
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♔ abstract: Love comes with all kinds of sacrifices, and after everything she'd sacrificed for her own hopeful romance, all she really wanted was a lover to live with for the rest of her mortal existence. Though the universe—and for that matter the gods who inhabit it—has a cruel sense of humor.
♔ author's note: I've been thinking of writing a Greek mythology story for all of the exos (ot8 [minus Chen, the nation's husband and father]). I have a few plans already, though this one felt the easiest and quickest to execute cause I really wanted to test out and fix my link/tag issue on here 😔
for context, here's a rough synopsis of the Theseus story: the king of Crete angered Poseidon who cursed the queen into woohooing with the king's bull, thus creating a minotaur named Asterion. mortified by this creation, they banished him into a maze and alienated him as if he were nothing, thus creating the bloodthirsty monster he was. the king's son went to Athens bc they themselves had a minotaur problem, but their minotaur wound up killing him. the king of Crete blamed the king of Athens and after some altercations, it resulted in an annual tradition of sending a select few Athenians to serve as tribute and be eaten by Asterion. one of these tributes was Theseus, son of the king of Athens, and he actually defeated the Athenian minotaur. to help him in defeating Asterion, the Crete king's daughter, Ariadne, gave Theseus yarn so he'd be able to navigate the maze, which helped him in killing Asterion. afterwards, they sailed to Naxos, where he abandoned her. interpretations vary of course, but most involve Dionysus marrying Ariadne afterwards bc he fell in love w her.
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Nestled within the Aegean Sea, lost amongst the plethora of islands which dotted the cerulean expanse of the ocean, lays the idyllic yet ever forlorn island of Naxos. Viridescent fields of crops and greenery encompass the entirety of the island, sloped along the verdant hills which make up its landscape. The only obstruction to its rolling plains was that of its mountain at the very heart of the island, as well as the sandy beaches which encircled it all in a protective ring of golden grains.
Upon first arrival, it had seemed nothing short of picturesque—perhaps even going so far as being the most beautiful sight she'd ever observed in her rather dull and sheltered life thus far. The warmth of the sand which greeted her once she'd hopped off the boat felt like the welcoming embrace of a new start, the fine grains sinking beneath her every step as if accommodating to her new presence. The seas lapped against the shores as if reaching out to her, waving—both metaphorically and literally—like it were greeting an old friend. And the winds which carried with it the strong aroma of sea salt and petrichor encompassed her being in a cool and refreshing embrace, nearly cementing the thought that circulated in her head of what a perfectly quaint and romantic escape Naxos was for her and her lover to settle in and establish their new lives together.
At least that's how it had all felt no more than a day ago. It was astounding how much could change upon settling down to rest after the strenuous voyage to Naxos. A mere daytime nap, meant to simply reinvigorate her, had suddenly turned her whole world upside down, because upon opening her eyes, her lover, with whom she'd risked her entire life in order to save, had all but vanished: him, his boat, and by extension, her heart along with him. She couldn't even see a single speck of him remaining on the horizon, and the thought that he had left her the moment she'd fallen asleep felt ever more disparaging.
Now, she sat along the shore. The sands, cooled with the setting sun, cradled her dejected form. The cacophony of waves crashing against the island served to drown out her cries. And the winds, which had grown significantly weaker as the day waned, brushed against her face as if to gently wipe away her tears. Naxos, with its surreal beauty and tender acceptance, had become no more a prison prompted by her own circumstances just as her accomodations had been on Crete. Exchanging one pitiful excuse of a home for another, though now she was utterly alone.
And all she could do was cry to herself. Cry over her foolishness to have risked everything for a boy she'd fallen for so rashly. Cry over her imminent future and the dread of the unknown which lay in waiting for her. Cry over the abandonment and outright rejection from someone she once believed to be her soulmate.
What a miserable life she led.
What a tragic course of events she followed.
What an absolutely pathetic human being she was.
And how utterly vexing it was that she could not even wallow in her own self-pity by her lonesome for very long.
“(y/n)?”
Her body seemed to register the foreign voice before her mind had, as she slowly turned her tear stricken face towards the newcomer. Though once her eyes met those of the familiar deity, now standing a mere few feet away from her, she quickly turned back to her original position, staring out at the sea. By now, the harsh line of the horizon had become ingrained into her corneas, remaining in her vision even when her eyes were closed, yet she continued to stare forward, hoping to find a stray boat somewhere in the distance. Hoping to see her beloved rushing back to her as if his initial departure was nothing more than an accident. Hoping to fall back into his arms and forget the worries incessantly plaguing her mind.
Though once more, these desires went unanswered, and instead, she was met by this ever so gentle touch skimming carefully over her back.
“(y/n), look at me.”
The demand hadn't held much of an authoritative tone, more so that of an insistent plea, one where she could faintly discern the shreds of desperation laced in between. Yet she remained as is, eyes trained on the ocean, waiting. She thought by ignoring him, he'd leave her alone. Allow her to grieve in peace without his mischief and revelric tendencies. Let her sulk in her misfortune without being reminded of her affiliation with him. Yet he could not even spare her this one luxury.
Instead, in her periphery, she found him crouching onto the sand beside her, seating himself in a way so he could remain attached to her side. The heavy weight of his gaze lingered upon her, even as she attempted to ignore his presence as a whole. Though he seemed none the wiser to her efforts, or perhaps he merely couldn't care less what she thought of him—not that she's out right proclaimed her opinion of said god, but from mere context clues given their history together, she was sure he had a general understanding of where she stands with him.
It had been a few years since she first met Baekhyun. A rather untimely meeting with the god of wine and revelry, one marked by unrequited affections which has since plagued her every waking moment. She had never processed how burdensome it could become to be the apple of one's eye, especially if that particular person was a deity of Baekhyun's caliber, and one she felt nothing towards. And even now as she tends to a broken heart, abandoned on a remote island in the middle of nowhere with no means of escape, she still couldn't conceal the discomfort she felt in Baekhyun's presence, knowing fully well of his affections and how he had been waiting for her answer to his proposal.
Though unlike all the other times he’s randomly materialized before her, usually wreaking of that sickly sweet aroma of wine and teasing her relentlessly until she was pleading for him to leave her be, he sat there calmly and quietly, waiting for her to acknowledge him. It was a peculiar shift in his modus operandi, one that did not go by unnoticed by (y/n), yet even with the silence he granted her, she couldn't bear to speak to him as she usually would.
Humiliation silently lingered in the air even before she could say anything. She didn't know what she'd tell Baekhyun had he pestered her in his usual manner. The last thing on her mind was telling the man who proposed to her—with whom she'd essentially left unanswered—that the man she intended on running away with forever had all but left her stranded on an island to die in solitude. Though somehow, there was a small inkling in her that felt like Baekhyun already knew. And perhaps a smaller, more hopeful part of her believed he was here not to torment her, but rather to check up on her, ensure she was fairing well.
Hesitantly, her eyes strayed from where they'd been zeroed in along the horizon, sparing Baekhyun a small and brief glance.
It was odd. His eyes seemed duller now, a more muted umber tone devoid of that trademark glint he usually dons when running amok. He usually always bore this confident, bordering on cocky, grin that seemed all too pleased with himself and his shenanigans, yet now his lips were naturally downturned, perhaps the first time she's ever seen his mouth in its natural resting position. Even his scent was more subdued, and she was able to pick up the rich undertones of grapes usually concealed by his alcoholic carousing. His gaze was dropped, steadily trained on her hands laying in her lap, and the undivided attention only prompted more discomfort on her part as she fiddled with the fabric of her dress.
She had half a mind to ask him if he was okay, momentarily forgetting her own plight once she saw the shift in demeanor of Baekhyun. Though the silence that encompassed them prompted her own wariness in approaching the subject.
And so they remained as is, the sun now meeting the horizon, igniting the sky into a mural of warm, fiery hues. As the sun continued to set, it dyed the blue depth of the waters into a color akin to wine with its deep and rich crimson shade.
Without realizing it, her mind had begun wandering back to Baekhyun, curious as to why he remained by her side even as she ignored him. And though she didn't know for how long she'd strayed with these thoughts, she did know it was his presence alone that managed to briefly distract her from her current situation.
“Why are you here?” (y/n) asked, voice gravelly from misuse. For a moment, she was met with silence, the ocean serving as white noise to fill the void. But as she dared another glance his way, she saw his somber countenance. It was a foreign expression to be gracing his face, and she found herself intrigued by the furrow of his brow as he remained lost in thought.
“I went to visit you on Crete…” He finally responded, the timbre of his voice lowering with raw solemnity. “I know how you get with the annual tributes, so I wanted to be there for you.”
She shied away at this, never fully processing how Baekhyun's sporadic appearances coincided with certain times. And it was true. Every year as the Athenian tributes arrived on Crete, she distanced herself until after these events were done and over with. Though as she now recollected memories from recent years, she began putting together Baekhyun's arrivals were never truly as spontaneous as she first made them out to be.
He was always there whenever she was at her lowest. She thought it was intentional as a way of tormenting her when she's at rock bottom, but as he continued speaking, a pit of remorse began accumulating within her heart.
“Instead, I was met with… chaos. Carnage. Disorder.” He paused, turning his head in a direction she could only assume was where Crete faced. “Asterion was dead. A tribute had escaped. And the princess had all but disappeared.”
At his final statement, (y/n) stared down in shame. She knew there would be repercussions for her actions, but she thought she'd have been long gone at this point. Too far away to even spare a moment of regret for having abandoned her family and her kingdom. Yet it all came back to bite her. Her brother, cursed and estranged as he was, had been killed. Theseus, her lover who she assisted the entire way through, had been the one to kill him. And she, princess of Crete, had run off in the midst of this mayhem.
“I'm sorry…” (y/n) whispered, voice strained as she fought back tears. “I'm so sorry. I just couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't bear to see more death. Every single year without fail they'd send these Athenians off to die by my brother's hands. And we'd just have to sit there and watch. Watch as they all lost themselves to the labyrinth. And Asterion would…”
As if having finally broken the floodgates, tears began streaming down her face without fail. The tragic life of her brother, born a monster and treated as such. And even if she had never interacted with him, even as she witnessed his bloodshed year after year, the knowledge of his death being instigated by her own involvement was debilitating enough to ground her back into reality.
The gravity of her predicament began to settle in. Sitting on an island, hopelessly waiting for a guy she had only just met and was ready to run away with forever. The realization that he used her for his own benefit, exploited her blind affections towards him only to then leave her for dead. He had probably already returned to Athens, assumed the role of hero who killed the minotaur of Crete—as well as that of their princess. And she sat there, longing for him for hours at a time, seated beside Dionysus himself. The absurdity of it all was almost laughable, and she'd probably be doing just that if it weren't for the overwhelming humiliation she felt coiled and festering within her.
“I helped him…” She confessed aloud. “I gave him the thread so he wouldn't get lost in the maze. I was the one who helped him defeat Asterion. I was the one who helped him escape. It was all my doing. And he left me here as repayment.”
Before she could continue, Baekhyun had suddenly shifted from his position, arms wrapping around her tightly and dragging her into his embrace. Any other time, she'd probably have swatted at him whilst yelling profanities, all while he laughed in delight at her hostility.
Yet now his touch didn't feel repulsive.
She could feel his warmth fully encompassing her, shielding her from the outside world. His hands clung to her body as if afraid she'd slip away from him at any moment. And now closer to him than ever before, she could smell his true aroma past the wine. An almost woodsy scent, just as warm as he was. Fruits and earth and nature as a whole. Faintly, she could smell the ocean intermingling with his scent.
It was so peculiar the way that distinct saltiness had first felt like a refreshing start to a new life, though shifted into an overwhelming and paralyzing apprehension that infested every aspect of her being. Though now, in Baekhyun's protective arms, it felt comforting. As if he himself dispelled it and this island of any and all of its negativity that consumed her.
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, the tension from her body had melted away. The sound of his heartbeat coinciding with that of the calm waves was like a melodious harmony that transcended her into a state of utter tranquility. His breathing lulled her away from the worries that tormented her heart, and she finally felt at peace.
“Did you love him?” Baekhyun asked. His tone was more inquisitive than anything else. There were no hidden intentions with his question, and although hesitant to admit it aloud to him, for fear of hurting him, (y/n) felt at ease with telling Baekhyun the truth he sought.
“Yes,” she responded quietly. “But I regret it. I regret it all.”
“Don't.” His grip tightened around her, pressing his forehead against the top of her head. “You shouldn't regret the love you give people. Don't let this foolish boy disparage you from expressing yourself to your fullest potential.”
(y/n) remained quiet, surprised by the turn of the events, though still listening intently to Baekhyun's words.
“I've always held such deep admiration towards you. From the moment I met you till now. I could see the way you loved so genuinely and fully. And I thought it was beautiful. I thought you were beautiful. You shouldn't grieve over an unrequited love. Loss serves as a reminder of the love we once felt, and the remorse we feel further exemplifies that. Your love is something so wonderful. Something I adore greatly.”
As he spoke, his warmth seemed to intensify. Filled with familiarity and security, coaxing her further into his embrace until she buried herself into the crook of his neck. He held her as if she were everything he had ever asked for. His touch was like ambrosia and nectar, the sweetest of prose to ever be professed, a safety like no other.
“I find myself wanting to be inconvenienced by you. I want to have you distracting me by lingering in my thoughts. I want to take time out of my day just to see you. I want to love you, even if you don't love me.”
At this, a sob slipped past her lips, and she clung onto him harder. Away from it all, everything inside her felt tumultuous and heightened. All of the emotions she'd been bottling up for years seemed to overflow in Baekhyun's presence alone. Her heart ached with grief, remorse, hatred, anger, defeat. Yet it also sang like never before, healing itself from years of anguish and torment.
And after the cathartic intervention came to a conclusion, faces marred by dried tears and eyes reddened with strain, a peaceful serenity had settled over the two. By now, the sun had long set. The cool of the night had begun penetrating the warmth of their embrace. The sand beneath them no longer retained the heat of the afternoon sun. The oceans were calm and still. The winds now settled into a gentle breeze. The world was asleep, silent in every regard. The day had ended and (y/n) had made it out alive, no doubt due to Baekhyun's influence.
Panic begin settling in her as he shifted, rising to his feet and pulling her up with him. Though when she met his gaze, loving and sweet and attentive, she began to settle once more. His hands held her own, thumbs softly brushing over her knuckles, all the while maintaining his sight on her face.
“What would you like to do?” He asked. “I can build you a palace here on Naxos, away from the cruelties of the world and the people who inhabit it.” His smile grew wider, bearing that familiar wickedness whenever he was up to no good. “I could overthrow the monarchy of Crete and reinstate you as its sole sovereign, allow you to redeem yourself and your honor, perhaps even reestablish Crete as a just and fair kingdom.” Both options were tempting, neither having any inherent consequences as long as Baekhyun held sway in their components. And she could tell Baekhyun had more to say, but she quickly intercepted before he could propose another offer.
“I want to be with you.” Baekhyun blinked at this, chuckling as if she were telling a joke.
“I will be there. You can't get rid of me that easily.”
“No.” Her hands slipped from his, reaching forth to cup his cheeks and bring him closer. “I choose you, Baekhyun.”
She pressed her lips against his own, soft and delicate. He seemed stunned for a moment, his body moving subconsciously for the first second or two, but once he had fully processed where he was and what was happening, Baekhyun began reciprocating. He kissed back just as earnestly, his hands reaching up to hold onto her wrists as he poured every ounce of his adoration into her. And (y/n) couldn't help but think how perfect it was.
She'd always thought love at first sight was perhaps the most romantic of gestures one could have. The act of finding your soulmate from a single encounter seemed so otherworldly and unmatched. Yet here in this moment with Baekhyun's body pressed against her own as he drew impossibly closer to her, his hands softly wandering in an attempt to map her form into his memory, she found this very moment to be the epitome of what love should be. A gradual fall into love. In a way, she can reminisce on growth and development, reflect on what was not there and how it came to be.
One of his hands had wandered to her hair, gently carding his fingers through the strands, and the other drew patterns on her waist, amorphous shapes that each portrayed his unspoken love for her. She thought back on every encounter she had with him. Every laugh he coaxed out of her even as she tried to hide away from the world. The bittersweet smiles he gave her every time she rejected or delayed his proposal. His neverending determination and devotion, even when facing adversities like herself. And with each revelation, each tender kiss from Baekhyun, her heart seemed to swell with love for him and him alone.
Once more, he was the one to pull away first, perhaps more in control of his long-standing affections than her, yet he didn't draw too far from her. Just far enough for him to look over her countenance with a lovestruck expression of his own. His eyes glistened with this saccharine-like joy, crinkling at the corners with his sweet smile dedicated to her. And she found herself smiling back, an uncontrollable jubilance bubbling in her as she reveled in his affections.
“Come then,” he spoke softly, hands returning back to hers. He brought one up to his lips, pressing one final kiss to her fingers. “Let's go home.”
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avianyuh · 6 months
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Dating Baekhyun
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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
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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:
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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.
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lunaflowers · 5 months
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falling (chanyeol x reader)
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pairing: step brother!chanyeol x reader word count: 2.8k+ genre: smut, angst warnings: slightly dom!chanyeol, slightly bratty!reader, pseudo incest, cowgirl position, dirty talk, some degradation, name-calling, hickeys, breeding kink, lots of angst synopsis: you've fallen in love with the one person you can't have author's note: this ended up being completely different than what it was meant to be but i hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless. unedited.
It was your first time visiting home since you’d moved out months ago to go to grad school. You’d missed the place. You were looking forward to sleeping in your childhood bed and eating your mom’s cooking and playing with your baby half-sister, Mimi. You were even looking forward to your step dad's diatribes on politics and the future of the country. The one thing you weren’t looking forward to was–
“Hey YN,” Chanyeol, your step brother, opened the door with a small smile on his face. He was currently serving in the military and had a couple days off to be at home. Chanyeol’s father had married your mother when the both of you were 16. He and his father had moved into the house you and your mother shared and although it was initially an adjustment, you were happy to see your mother so happy after such a long time. You’d never known your own father, being the product of a one-night stand during your mother’s younger, wilder years, and your stepfather seemed to balance out her somewhat flighty personality.
“Hey Chanyeol,” you said, a little uneasily. The only issue was your super hot, tall, stepbrother. As soon as you met Chanyeol the first time, you felt an immediate attraction to him. And he obviously felt the same as within a few weeks of him moving in all those years ago, the two of you had ended up in bed together, losing your virginities to each other.
As time went on, you and Chanyeol began having sex whenever your parents were out. Every single time you swore it would be the last time, but try as you might, you couldn’t resist him. It wasn’t just sex. Chanyeol was funny and sweet and jovial and just so much fun to be around. You didn’t understand how you were expected not to fall for him.
He pulled your luggage from your hand without asking and began to carry it to your room. You followed him, “Where’s my mom? And your dad?” The house was quiet, not bustling with activity the way it usually was with a toddler buzzing around.
“They took Mimi to her dentist appointment,” Chanyeol replied, putting your bag down beside your bed. Mimi was the sister that you and Chanyeol shared, a cherub-faced two-year-old who was excessively doted on by both her mother and her father. It was sweet, like they were both desperate to do the parenting thing right this time now that they had a partner to do it with. “They just left so they probably won’t be home for an hour or two.”
You nodded, trying to ignore the feeling in your gut. “Well, that’s a shame. I’ll just wait for them then, I guess.” You were being awkward, which wasn’t like you. But you felt awkward and you didn’t really know how to hide it. Spending time alone with Chanyeol was dangerous. You were your weakest self when you were with him.
“YN,” Chanyeol said suddenly, grabbing your hand. You froze, looking into his eyes for the first time since you got home. “Come on. Shouldn’t we talk?” He rubbed the back of your palm with his thumb, a familiar gesture. It was enough to make you feel slightly flustered.
“Chanyeol…” you let out shakily, “There isn’t really anything to talk about, is there? It’s wrong.” You tried to end it last time you saw him. Really end it. You figured that now that you were going off to school, putting considerable distance between the two of you, maybe it would stick. But it still didn’t seem to do so for him.
Chanyeol’s eyebrows furrowed. “Is it?” He pulled you in closer, moving his hand so that it was gripping your wrist now.
“Don’t do that. You know it is. Don’t start trying to justify it just because you’re horny and–”
“No. Don’t fucking demean it like that. I love you. I’m in love with you. We’re in love with each other.”
“Shut up!” you said shrilly, terrified that someone would hear even though you knew that the two of you were alone in the house. “It doesn’t matter what you say or what you feel because it’s wrong.” You emphasised the last word as though Chanyeol were a simpleton and you were losing your patience with him. “You’re my brother.”
“Step brother. We’re not related by blood. Besides, it’s what you feel too,” he shot back, pulling you in even closer now and wrapping his arms around your waist. 
You couldn’t help it. You put your hands on his chest. He just felt so solid and familiar and yours. He was your weakness and you’d never been particularly good at resisting temptation but you knew you needed to try.
“Loey, please,” you looked at him, tears beginning to form in your eyes. “Please don’t make this harder than it already is. I said last time that it couldn’t happen again. It’s not right.”
“You say that every time,” Chanyeol said, ignoring your pleas. He forced a kiss onto your lips and just like that, it was as though a switch had been flipped in you. You melted into him, kissing him back. It was so fucking easy for him to make you surrender to him and you would’ve been ashamed if you weren’t so overwhelmed with desire. 
He picked you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist automatically, keeping your lips attached to his, tasting his familiar taste. The want for each other was palpable. You wanted this as much as he did and you both knew it.
Chanyeol put you down on your bed and got on top of you, moving down as he kissed and bit your neck. You didn’t stop him. You wanted to be marked by him. You’d figure out how to cover up the hickies later but right now all you wanted was to be owned by him, to be filled with him, to be fucked senseless on his cock.
You let him pull your top up over your head and expertly unsnap your bra. He pulled it off, throwing it to the ground and then grabbed your breasts with both of his hands and buried his face in them. He began squeezing and kissing them, biting them, taking your nipples between his teeth. Chanyeol loved your breasts. They were easily his favourite part of your body and he was like a kid in a candy store anytime he got his hands on them.
“Loey, let’s make it quick, huh?” you smiled, biting your lip. Even though Chanyeol had said your parents wouldn’t be back for a while, you were still slightly nervous.
“Sorry, you’ve just got perfect tits,” he said breathlessly. 
“I bet you say that to all the girls,” you replied, teasingly. You knew Chanyeol was popular with women and that he slept around. It wasn’t like the two of you were together in any real sense of the word so you couldn’t really be upset about it. And he’d never been in any sort of serious relationship as far as you knew. 
“I don’t,” he said, more seriously than you’d anticipated. He pulled his own shirt off, reaching behind his neck and removing it the way guys did. He then unbuttoned your jeans and pulled them down your legs, taking your panties along with them. He stuck a large hand between your legs and began rubbing your clit. “What do you want?”
“I wanna ride you,” you said, fully naked now.
He smiled, “Good. I need to see those tits bounce.” You rolled your eyes as pulled his sweatpants and boxers off, laying down flat on his back.
“You really need to work on your dirty talk, you know?”
“Don’t need to be good at dirty talk with a cock like this,” Chanyeol said, stroking it a few times, hard already. Chanyeol did have a great cock. Well, he had a great everything but his cock was particularly nice, as far as they go. It was proportional to the rest of him, which meant big.
“Yeah, yeah,” you replied, mockingly. You got on top of him and grabbed it, lowering yourself on to his length, moaning wantonly as you did so.
“I missed your pussy,” Chanyeol said, looking at you with lust-filled eyes.
“Yeah? You’ve been thinking about it?”
“I have,” he said, thrusting up into you. He grabbed your hips, pushing you down onto him and grinding up into you. “Have you been thinking about me?”
You stuttered a little, “N– Not at all,” you lied and Chanyeol smirked.
“Brat,” Chanyeol said, giving your ass a squeeze with both hands, making you let out a little squeal. You bent down to lock his lips in a kiss, a rough, sloppy one. He bit your bottom lip and tugged it before letting go. “You’re lucky I like you.”
You straightened up again and smiled, bouncing on his cock with your dripping wet cunt.. He eyed your jiggling breasts and let out a little growl. His cock throbbed as you continued to ride him gently, building up more intensity with each passing second. He watched his length disappearing inside you over and over again.
“God, your cock feels good, Chanyeol,” you moaned, throwing your head back. It really did. It sounded cheesy, almost comical even, but no man fit you quite like Chanyeol did. You felt waves of pleasure building up in your core.
“Fuck yeah it does. Ride me just like that,” he responded, thrusting up into you faster. You were meeting each other’s rhythm and you whimpered being hit in all the right spots.
No one knew your body like your step brother did, as fucked up as that was to say. You’d slept with a handful of other men and none of them had ever made you feel even close to what Chanyeol could. He took turns squeezing and smacking your ass. He wanted to leave marks behind, you knew that, a handprint or a bruise he could tease you about later. You quickened your pace, feeling yourself getting closer to your orgasm and Chanyeol did as well.
“Only I can get you like this, hmm? Coming apart on my cock like a dirty whore?” he said, speeding up even more. It was like he was so in tune with you that he could read your mind sometimes.
“Only you, Chanyeol,” you mewled and he looked at you with a satisfied smirk on his face.
“You’re so pretty like this… I’m gonna cum in this tight little pussy… Knock you up. Do you want that?”
“Yes, Chanyeol, fill me up. I want you to do whatever you like,” you said, knowing you were on birth control and the chances of you actually getting pregnant were minimal, but the breeding thing seemed to be a favourite of his so you always indulged it.
“And then with your belly round and your tits leaking milk, everyone will know,” he said, his voice low, “that you’re a dirty whore who seduced her step brother by acting like a slut.”
“I’m not a slut,” you protested meekly.
“Yes, you are,” he replied, punctuating it with a particularly hard thrust. “You’re the worst kind of slut. You’re a slut for your step brother’s cock.”
Shame filled you but so did arousal. You knew that the sinfulness of this was part of why it was so pleasurable, so thrilling. The fact that you had to keep this a dirty little secret between the two of you heightened every single feeling.
“I’m going to cum, Ch–,” you began but your orgasm interrupted you in the middle of your sentence, making you throw your head back and moan. This was enough for Chanyeol who followed soon after, thrusting quickly a few times before he came inside you with a groan. You felt his seed inside of you and you couldn’t deny there was a tiny part of you that wished he would get you pregnant so you could be marked by him in the most permanent way.
You lay in each other’s arms on your single bed with Chanyeol’s large body taking up most of it whilst coming down from your respective orgasms.
“It could work, you know? We could make it work,” he said. He didn’t have to elaborate, you knew exactly what he was talking about. You’d had this discussion many times before and it always ended the same.
“We can’t,” you said simply. “You know we can’t.”
“We could move somewhere far away. Another country even. It would be like starting fresh. We’d have no ties to anyone. No one would even have to know.”
You sighed. Chanyeol always got like this after sex. He’d always propose some far-fetched plan where your relationship could work and you always had to talk him down, to disappoint him. You hated doing it every time.
“I can’t abandon my mom. Or Mimi. Would you be able to leave all your friends and family?”
“For you, yeah,” he said and it felt like he’d reached into your chest and squeezed your heart in his hand. You didn’t expect him to say that, especially so nonchalantly. 
“Please,” you said, a little desperately, “Let’s just enjoy this… these stolen moments. I know it’s not ideal but it’s all we’re meant to have,” you said, trying to sound reasonable even though it was tearing you apart inside to do so. 
Chanyeol said nothing, tensing her jaw for a second before relaxing it again, “Yeah. It’s just not enough anymore.”
“Are you mad?” you asked, carefully. 
“No. But I need to tell you something.”
“Tell me what? You’re not pregnant, are you?” you joked, trying to add some levity to a situation that was feeling increasingly tense.
“I met a woman,” Chanyeol said. “She’s great. I like her a lot. She’s not you, but…” He trailed off.
He what? You could feel your heart pounding in your chest. Your throat felt tight. 
“But what?” you asked, not wanting to know but also needing to know. You were frightened of what you were going to hear and you almost thought he was joking until he continued.
“The relationship is getting serious. I can see myself with her in the future. I won’t say I love her, not yet anyway, but…” He cleared his throat. “If you really mean it, if you’re really serious about not wanting to be with me… I’m gonna make things official with her. Introduce her to the family and everything.”
“Oh,” was all you said. It was all you could say. Your heart was breaking in real time and you were trying not to cry. It was wrong of you to be upset, selfish even, but you couldn’t help it. Unwittingly, you’d always thought of Chanyeol as yours, even when you were ending things with him over and over again.
“So I guess I wanted to say it’s now or never. It’s up to you,” he said solemnly.
The choice weighed heavily on you. You couldn’t imagine never having Chanyeol again. The stolen kisses and glances. Sneaking out to the car to fuck in secret. The road trips that you’d taken together, the only times you two could play the normal couple you wanted to be. It would all be gone just like that?
Not to mention the fact that you hated the idea of him with another woman, touching her, making love to her, being in love with her. Simply put, it was soul crushing.
But then you thought of your mother, who’d worked so hard to raise you despite the difficulties of being a young, single mom. And your friends. And school and work and the life that you had here. And sweet little Mimi, the sister you and Chanyeol shared who looked at you like you hung the moon. How could you leave all of them behind? It would be horrible and selfish and you’d miss them terribly. It was impossible.
“I can’t, Loey. I’m sorry. I love you. I do love you. But I can’t. You should… continue things with this girl,” you said with a tone of finality. It was truly over now, your love story, you knew that.
Chanyeol said nothing, his face stony. He sat up and pulled his clothes on quickly, getting up and walking out of your room without looking at you. Saying you were devastated would have been an understatement. You were broken.
You got up and went to your bathroom, turning on the shower and stepping inside without even waiting for it to warm up. The water hit your body and you finally broke down in tears. You knew you’d made the right decision, but right now the pain was almost unbearable. You cried and cried, sitting on the floor of the shower until you felt like you were out of tears. You were grieving the loss of the only man you ever loved and you didn’t know when you’d ever be okay again.
☆*: .。. o💔o .。.:*☆
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