#this isn’t worded well I’m srry I’m tired :( | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

xpeachesncream · 4 years ago

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lowkey (jjk) | 02.

⦿ boo’d up in the daytime

⦿ mackin’ & hangin’ in the nighttime

↳ series masterlist

summary: in order to pass organic chemistry and pay off your car damages from an accident, all you have to do is help the nerd, jeon jungkook, with a few things: pretend to be his girlfriend and teach him the ways of dating.

pairing: popular!reader x nerd!jjk

genre: college au, fake dating au, friends (with benefits?) to lovers au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 3.2k

warnings: cussing, implied sexual content/mature language, kissy-kissy koo, mentions of a boner, mention of sex and cum, seokjin’s still toxic

note: posting this chapter a little early since it’s butter weekend, plus the last part of liquid courage should be up sat/sun. still sticking to my schedule in my faq though, srry loves! i��ll do my best to update as soon as i can. 💗

tags: @taegularities @jimidol @miinoongi @bluesharksandfish @ggukkieland @unicornbabylover @thebeebi @preciouschimine @ladyartemesia @moonchild1 @jikookiekosmos @marcoazz2 @kootaes @wearenot7withu @codeinebelle @bigbootyjoonie @thisartemisnevermisses @maichiverse @ppeachyttae @fairysunooo @secretlycrazyhummingbird @yukiehyukie

"I heard you were in an accident last night, babe. Are you okay? I'm so sorry I got mad at you yesterday." Seokjin comes towards you, cupping your face to look at every inch, every detail. You move away from his hold, backing up to give yourself some space.

"Seokjin, I told you to stop calling me that. Jesus. I'm fine. Don't need you to check up on me."

"Are you really gonna keep that up? I said I was sorry."

"Okay, and? I heard you."

"Really, that's it? Y/N, why are you being like this? What's the real reason?" He follows after you as you make your way to the library. To say Seokjin was persistent is an understatement— he was persistent for the wrong reasons. Like, keeping you close so he had you to fall on when things went wrong with another chick, his safety net.

"Because this is done, I don't know how many times I have to tell you. I'm tired of you doing this so, please. Just go." You slightly turn towards him as you climb up the stairs.

"I wanna work this out with you. Don't push me away. Let me help." You don't respond. He watches as you adjust your bag strap and wave at Jungkook. Seokjin chuckles and grabs your wrist gently, making Jungkook suddenly hop on defense as he balls his fists. Like he could do shit. Seokjin would probably wreck his ass with those broad shoulders.

Still. He hated how much of an asshole he was to you.

"Wait, what the fuck?" Seokjin laughs his rare, deep laugh that he uses when he's caught off guard. "You're hanging out with nerds, now?"

"And if I was, that would be none of your business." You snatch your arm away while glaring at him. You shake your head and continue walking towards Jungkook, relieved Seokjin finally left you alone today. Probably off to tell Namjoon, Yoongi and his friends how much of a bitch you've been and that you actually left him to hang out with a nerd.

Sunmi knows you're being tutored. However if that wasn't the case, she would question you, but she never take their side on shit. She remained loyal to you, and always supported you through whatever. That's why she's remained your bestfriend until this day. The senior chicks Seokjin and them hung around with though? Questionable. As long as Sunmi was by your side and you by hers, you both didn't care much for getting close to them.

"Hey, sorry you had to see that." You say as you sigh and set your bag down alongside of you on the long table.

"It's alright." Jungkook replies softly. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. Thanks." You give him a tiny, tightlipped smile. "So, should we get right into tutoring, or should we talk about the details of our deal? I have all afternoon." Luckily, it was quite loud in the loud section of the library. No one cared much to listen in to your secret deal with Jungkook, nor did anyone care because it was Jungkook.

"I do too. I guess, whatever works for you?"

"Let's get this tutoring over with first then iron out the rest." He nods.

"Sure." He pulls out his notebook. "Tell me, what are you struggling with?"

"Everything." He does a small head tilt.

"I doubt that. I'm sure you understand some things."

"No, you don't understand Jungkook. I'm legit drowning. I don't know what I'm doing wrong or where I'm lacking." Jungkook simply looks at you, lips pressed together before he nods. You're not lacking anywhere, he thinks. You're really not. The subject is just shitty and the spawn of the devil.

"That's okay. Well, can I go over some basics? Throw in some tips?"

"Yes, please. Lead the way. I need you." You chuckled, but it makes the heat rush to his cheeks. He hopes you don't catch the rosy tint creeping up on them, so he instantly grabs at the whiteboard near your table and starts to go over the very beginning, the very basics of this semester's OChem class. Maybe a bit from last semester, but last semester wasn't entirely that bad compared to this one.

He didn't expect you to be all that engaged for some reason, but he should have known you'd ask questions left and right, taking the black whiteboard marker from his hand to practice what you've learned with him watching and guiding you from your side. You were always focused, always so determined. You were incredibly smart. Incredibly beautiful.

Honestly, Jungkook go on for days.

The both of you hadn't realized it was nearing close to 5PM and neither of you had really eaten much since lunch. You sit, feeling pretty good about your first session with Jungkook. You feel a little bad having kept him for so long over OChem, realizing you still had things to iron out with him.

[sunmi] 4:34pm: hey babe, not gonna be leaving for a bit. i forgot i had to work on this psych project with jennie. you okay with leaving around 6/7?

"Crap."

"What's the matter?" Jungkook glances at you as you continue to stare at your phone and scroll away.

"Sunmi isn't leaving until later. I'll probably be stuck here for a little longer after you leave." You put your phone down, now resting your chin against your palm, nails slightly digging into your cheek.

"I-I can give you a ride, if you'd like? Plus, we still need to talk.. about stuff." He shyly says.

"Jungkook, that's too much to ask for."

"It's really not a big deal. How far do you live from campus?"

"Maybe a 10 minute drive, the next exit off the freeway." He shrugs.

"I'm going in that direction too."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. We can just talk on the way home."

"Would you be willing to stop by for dinner? We can talk then. Maybe it can be considered our 'first date.'" You joke with a small giggle.

"Oh, sure. Yeah." He gives off a tiny, nervous laugh. "Where did you have in mind?"

"Can we get.. hm—" You hum. "Fire Wings? Down the street?" He almost feels intoxicated watching how your eyes gleam under the light, how they brighten and widen when you mention food. You were cute, and you didn't even know it.

"Only if you tell me what flavors you get." He tries to get smart, which makes you laugh. He made you laugh.

"Is this judgment day? Gonna see if you should call quits on our deal before it even starts?"

"Maybe." He goes along with it.

"Okay. Garlic Parmesan and Dragon." You pack up your things before shooting him a look.

"Okay, solid flavors." He nods. "I guess we can continue on."

"You're funny." You giggle as you both throw your bags onto your backs. You stay in your position until Jungkook comes to your side so you can walk by him. You don't know much about him, but he has a soft demeanor and he makes you feel comfortable. You had only seen him a couple of times across campus, not really noticing him much in class either. You feel a little bad knowing you didn't even try being that he sat behind you, but better late than never I guess? Maybe there was a reason for all of this happening. The way he tutored you today was insane, too— he was super smart, but broke it down perfectly, was patient. He was patient.

No wonder Dr. K loved his ass.

"What about you?" You picked up the conversation.

"I usually go for a dry rub and Garlic Parmesan."

"I haven't tried any dry rubs."

"You can try one of mine later."

"Okay." You suddenly remember to shoot Sunmi a text before she comes looking for you everywhere on campus. Jungkook stays silent beside you, allowing you to do your thing without being too overbearing or nosy.

But, he honestly can't help but glance a few times.

[y/n] 5:11pm: sorry just saw this, hitching a ride with my tutor. don't worry about me! ty ily, have fun working on your project.

[sunmi] 5:13pm: tutor, as in jeon jungkook?

[y/n] 5:15pm: yeah, he offered.

[sunmi] 5:16pm: okay, that was nice of him. if he tries anything tho i'll beat his ass. text me when u get home?

[y/n] 5:17pm: don't worry about him, he won't lol i will.

[sunmi] 5:18pm: kk love u b

"Sorry." You say, tucking your phone into your pocket. "Had to text Sunmi."

"That's okay. You two are really close, right?"

"Yeah, since high school."

"Cool." At this point, Jimin, Taehyung and Hoseok are coming out of the café at the same you two are passing.

"What about you, where are your friends?"

"Um." He sighs, trying to avoid his friends obnoxiously waving and calling him from the distance. You glance over from behind his figure, chuckling a little bit. "That's them."

"Cute. You all are really close, too?"

"Ya, I've known Jimin the longest though." You smile and wave at them, causing them to gasp and whisper amongst each other with huge smiles on their faces.

"I'll need to meet them if we're gonna do this thing for real. Do they know?"

"Yeah kinda."

"That's okay. We should probably work on keeping it between us though." He nods.

"Okay, but. Can we save meeting them for later? They're a bit.. much." You smile.

"Sure."

"D-do I have to meet Sunmi?" You nod.

"If you wanna make this believable, yeah."

"She's kinda scary."

"Jungkook, she's not gonna bite your head off. She just has that look, but I promise she's sweet." That look, that resting bitch face. Really, you could be biased because it's Sunmi. She really only had issues if she felt disrespected. Other than that, she meant well. Same with you— you've been accused of being intimidating and having the same look but you don't mean any harm by it.

"Okay." Jungkook unlocks his black 2016 Honda Civic and pops his bag in the trunk. You do the same, while Jungkook goes to open the passenger door for you.

"Thanks." You smile sweetly at him. He climbs into his seat, hitting the button to start the car and sighs. The music in the background starts to play, and it sounds mellow, soothing— like it came straight out of a fairytale. His eyes widen as he rushes to lower the volume before shyly looking at you.

"Sorry."

"What, no. Don't be. What is this?"

"A Final Fantasy lofi mix." He begins to drive off as you turn the volume back up.

"It's nice. Pretty relaxing."

"Ya, it's nice to listen to after a long day." He pushes his glasses up at the light.

"Do you have family here?" He nods.

"I do. My mom and dad live about an hour away. I'm the only child. What about you?"

"Same. They're probably 30 minutes up north."

"Do you live alone?"

"Yeah, I live in a studio. It's actually my coworker's. She bought the space to rent it out. She lets me rent it for pretty cheap though."

"That's nice."

"You?"

"I live with Jimin. Our parents are close."

"What about your other friends?"

"Hoseok is dorming, and Taehyung would rather live back home with his family and commute. He's close to them. He'll crash at ours or Hoseok's from time to time."

"Are you close to your family?" He nods as he turns into the plaza lot.

"I suppose, yes. I'm just really quiet overall, so they think it's hard to read me sometimes." He parks and you watch as he shuts the car off with the same button. "You?"

"Yeah, I'm really close to my mom. Dad, a little questionable."

"Why, if I may ask?" He comes to open your door again, causing you to give him a small smile.

"He, um. Just got into some stuff." He watches as your body tenses while you fiddle with your fingers waiting in line.

"It's okay, don't think about it. I won't ask again."

"It's okay, Jungkook. Really. Maybe another time?" You look up at him and he nods. He stands way taller than you, almost at Seokjin's height, if not the same. He likes to wear baggy, dark clothing and doesn't do much to fix or style his hair.

He's simple, but in a good way.

You both order your food with Jungkook going first so he can grab a table afterwards. Before he could pay though, you offer to cover him for dinner as your way of thanking him for driving you home. You make your way over to the table he snags, Jungkook silently sitting at the high table with his legs pressed together and his hands clasped tightly on his lap.

"You okay?"

"Ya, why?"

"You look tense."

"Sorry. It's not everyday I have dinner with Y/N." You smile.

"Stop, relax." You watch as he slightly eases up. "So, this deal." He nods. "A month?"

"Yeah, I suppose."

"We have to convince people it's real or else people will know something weird is going on." You look at his hand, now resting on the table. "You're gonna have to hold my hand and kiss me, you know?" He swallows the lump in his throat. Shit, he thinks. Don't know if I can actually pull this off?

A kiss?! Fuck.

"Y-yeah."

"When was your last relationship, Jungkook?"

"8th grade." Your eyes widen.

"O-oh, now I see."

"What's that supposed to mean? It's terrible, I know but I—"

"No, no, no. You're good. It's totally okay, it doesn't matter. I'll just have to teach you to make it look realistic and not.. awkward." You perk up again. "Not saying that you are though, okay."

"I know."

"So, are you.."

"Am I..?" He cocks hid head to the side in confusion.

"Like.."

"Just ask Y/N."

"Are you a virgin?"

"I don't know." You furrow your brows.

"Huh?"

"Look, this is gonna sound really embarrassing and I don't know if I'm even ready to tell my fake girlfriend about it."

"Just say it. We have to know things about each other." He sighs.

"I— ugh." He groans. "I did it with my girlfriend at the time. Or I guess my ex because we had broken up and this was sometime during freshmen year in high school and she came onto me out of nowhere at a mutual friend's pool party. But it was weird because we were just hormonal kids and I was just curious so I slipped myself into her only to slip back out right after because—" He's rambling, but you're doing your best to keep up.

"Because?"

"I-I, ugh. Y/N." He shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Are you really gonna make me say it?"

"Jungkook." You lean a bit to try and catch eye contact.

"I came right away." He says just as the worker puts down your food and takes the number from your table.

"Ohhhhhhh." You say as you nod slowly. "Okay."

"You can just run now." His head hangs low as he slowly slides his chicken over in front of him, causing you to chuckle.

"I'm not going anywhere. It's okay. Stop that."

"It's pathetic."

"No. Besides, I know you'll get better overall, and you'll find someone who will rock with you till the end. We'll work on this."

"Thanks." He says, feeling comfortable around you. You were quick to reassure him and smile at him, he felt himself melting in his seat. Yeah, you were too good for Seokjin.

"You'll have to come to parties with me. Club events. Events in general. It won't look right if I'm always going without you."

"Okay. Can I bring my friends?"

"Sure." He nods. "What do you do in your free time?"

"Play video games and listen to music. Read comics, manga. Build lego sets with the guys."

"Cute." You smile.

"You?"

"Hang out with Sunmi, or just watch movies on my own at my place. Read. Eat by myself. Explore by myself. I value my alone time."

"It's nice." Jungkook's familiar with it. Even if he had his friends around, he truly liked being in his own peace when allowed. "What about outside of the public eye?"

"Hm?" You hum.

"Do we hang out?"

"Yeah we can." You nod.

"Cool." He smiles.

"Is my car gonna be a lot of work for you?"

"Don't worry about it, it'll be good soon. Just might take a bit cause I need some parts to make it look brand new again."

"I really can't thank you enough." He shrugs.

"Only trying to help my girlfriend out." He boldly says, causing you to laugh.

"Confidence is peeking through already, are you sure you need me?" You joke. The rest of the evening, you continue to talk to Jungkook about pretty surface level shit— what you like, dislike, overall experience in high school and college so far. It was a nice, harmless conversation, one where you were starting to see how warmhearted Jungkook really was. How real and laid back.

None of the shit in Seokjin's group. It was refreshing, a breath of fresh air.

Once dinner had finally finished, Jungkook was on his way to drop you off. He had parked in an empty guest spot, offering to walk you up just to be sure. At the door, he took a peek at how clean your studio was, mainly soft colors of white and cream taking over, with plants scattered around your living room area. The hallway in was sandwiched between your kitchen area and another wall, Jungkook assuming your bed was on the opposite side of it. He awkwardly stands at the door, afraid of overstepping.

"Well, goodnight Y/N. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Hey, wait." You smile and come close to him. He swallows, his mouth suddenly feeling dry when he feels your breasts press against his chest. "First lesson— give me a kiss."

"Right now?"

"Jeon Jungkook, we're doing this tomorrow. People are gonna have to see this at least once while we're together." He nods and presses a quick kiss against your cheek. "Not bad, but a little longer?" He complies and presses another kiss, leaving his pillowy lips against your cheek for a little longer before pulling away. "Perfect. Now here." You point at your lips before crossing your arms.

"Y/N, I—"

"Don't be afraid, just do it. I won't kick you in the balls or anything."

"It's not that. I just don't think I'm a great at this stuff."

"Okay." You tippytoe and gently grab his jaw while you lean towards his face. "Just relax, okay? Don't think too much of it." He stays silent, doe eyes constantly on you as you continue to inch forward.

Sparks. Just sparks everywhere for Jungkook.

He feels your soft lips against his and he relaxes, moreso because he feels like he's lost all senses being this close to you. Taking in your scent. Kissing you.

"There." He stands still, still trying to process the kiss. "Not bad. We'll get better over time, but at least that looks believable. Just—" You put his hands down as they were about to fall onto your hips during the kiss, but they fell short. "Let it happen and hold me, okay?" You smile. "Night Jungkook."

"N-night." He stutters as he watches you close the door. "Fuck." He whispers to himself when he realizes he's now sporting a boner. "Jungkook, what the fuck is this?!" He continues to whisper to himself as he waddles down your hallway.

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mallowstep · 3 years ago

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um srry if this sounds weird but im v glad with how ur handling stonefeather. im glad ur not - actually shipping it if it makes sense? ur treating with the nuance it deserves and making it very clear its a BAD thing and im just. glad honestly.

actually yeah it does sound kinda weird

[below the cut: don't give me credit for your critical thinking]

[also at the end quotes. if you just want bonus nohmttf content scroll to the end.]

i'm angy, but i'm going to be quiet for a moment because more importantly, i, uh.

am i making it clear that it's a bad thing? (don't answer that, rhetorical question, i do not want your answer.) i'm certainly not trying to.

it's kinda hard to show right now, because of where we are in the story, but for illustration purposes, i will give you some sneak peaks. a whole bunch. maybe even spoilers i wouldn't before. i'm angy, but quiety angy.

but first, like. it wouldn't fucking matter, ig? either you open nohmttf understanding they're an unhealthy relationship or you don't. i'm not trying to change minds. i'm trying to tell a fucking story. and this might seem aggressive. you might feel like, "but isn't the story a bad thing? isn't it a compliment if you're doing it well?" but it's not because based on the wording i will Bet Real Money you've decided i'm a good and responsible dark fic writer who doesn't Romanticize things and that must, like, gah. i'm so tired of being a token "the right way."

it happens every fucking time, and i don't like it.

like i appreciate the sentiment. seriously. i have to scrap this paragraph because it keeps getting too personal, which is frustrating, because i want to say more.

tldr is nohmttf was not something i was sure i was going to post, and it's a positive sign for my mental health that you can read it. do not ask follow-ups on this point.

but i don't want to be your The Right Way, and i'm not trying to be. the conclusions you come to are your own. come to them.

oh and watch season one, episode five of all the midwife if you can.

.***.

okay, now some quotes, because your boy is riled.

“Are you okay?” Hawkkit asks.

Feathertail is strangely quiet, lying in their nest and not doing anything.

“Feather?” He presses his nose to her cheek. “Did something happen?”

She smells like Stonefur, and that usually means she’s happy, but she’s not.

Feathertail grasps him with her paws, nuzzling his head. She doesn’t say anything, just purrs, pressing her nose into him.

Stonefur hunkers next to them, grooming Mothkit with short licks.

“I’m sorry,” Feathertail says.

“It’s not…” Stonefur breathes out. “I’ll have more time to spend with you all, won’t I?”

“No! I can guess. It doesn’t take interrogating our mother to know she was too young to have kits when she had us! But you always push and dig and it’s never enough. It’s like you want our family to be bad!”

“Well. You’re not supposed to have kittens with an apprentice, or your niece. Or your niece who is your apprentice.”

Mothpaw hisses. “I don’t need you to tell me that! No one…we all fucking know already. I bet Grey and Reed and Ripple could tell you that. But Stonefur is a good father, and he treats Feathertail well, and why can’t that just be enough for you?!”

“Everything they say about us is true.”

“It’s not like that,” Feathertail says.

“It is! Tell me, Feather, what parts are lies?”

“He didn’t force me to have you,” she says. “You have always been wanted and loved. And he didn’t force me to be with him. You have two parents who love you and one another. When they say otherwise? That’s a lie.”

“So…you’re still with Stonefur?”

Feathertail nods.

“That’s…you’re happy?”

“I wouldn’t stay with him if I wasn’t.”

“Then I’m happy for you.”

She can see Stormfur watching her, glaring, but — Feathertail isn’t wrong. Stormfur wasn’t there. Tawnypelt didn’t exactly expect her to stay with Stonefur, but she’s not surprised.

Stormfur wasn’t there. He never heard Tigerstar say if Stonefur couldn’t keep Featherpaw pregnant, he’d do it himself. He didn’t see Stonefur spend frigid, leafbare nights sleeping outside the nursery, because Tigerstar wouldn’t let him sleep inside. He wasn’t an apprentice, cleaning out the nursery, watching as three kittens suckled from Featherpaw, looking older than they were next to her.

He doesn’t understand.

“I’m not, that’s what you don’t bother understanding. It was nine months, and they only had each other, and…” Tawnypelt just sort of trembles. “You don’t even need eyes to see how much they love each other. Watch when we get back, Squirrelpaw. He won’t leave her side if the sky starts falling.”

“You say that like it’s a good thing.”

“I’m saying it because it’s true. What matters, Stormfur? That they never should’ve been together to begin with, or that they have taken a terrible situation and managed to find happiness in it?”

“But it is. You want me to think it was all terrible and Stonefur was just a monster, and if that were true, I couldn’t be happy with him — so it must’ve all been good.”

“No! I just…”

“He never told me how to feel, you know. I could’ve told him I hated him, and he just would’ve said, ‘Okay, Featherpaw,’ and gave me as much space as he could.”

“How can you know that?”

“Because I do! And it doesn’t matter. Because if I love my kits, that means I liked when Stonefur fucked me for the first time, right? No matter how I feel about it. And if I asked him for our second litter, that means I was always asking for it, right? If I tell Leopardstar not to changed my name, I liked it when Tigerstar told me it was because [redacted]. If I like it when Stonefur holds me, I liked it when he raped me in front of Tigerstar.

“What the fuck do you want to hear?” Stonefur snaps. “That I think she’s beautiful? That when she curls up next to me, I think she’s the only thing that matters? That when she gets back — and she will get back — I’m going to pull her against me because I’ve missed her?”

“Just once,” Feathertail says. “Just once, I want to choose. I don’t want to pretend it’s a choice, I don’t want it to be this-or-you’ll-die-probably, I want to want it and choose to have it.”

#mine #ask #nohmttf #anon

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quokkacore · 4 years ago

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son of wolves I [park chanyeol & byun baekhyun]

for @imsoba, who asked for an angsty, fluffy enemies to lovers au. merry christmas from your secret santa! written for the @exolssecretsanta gift exhange.

summary: your entire life, you've fought bravely to defend the walls of your home from the evil forest spirits of the spearwood trying to destroy it, alongside your family, friends, and your betrothed, baekhyun. until you're infected by the evil that resides in one of these spirits, and you run away from home, before it can spread to those around you. it's in your exile, wandering through the spearwood that you meet the wolf prince, a tall man of hardened eyes, few words, and a fiery temperament, raised by these spirits you've so grown to resent. it's here that you begin to question everything you've ever known, and wonder whether the evil was out here, in the forest, or inside the walls of a place you once called home.

pairings: hunter!baekhyun x reader, wolfprince!chanyeol x reader

genre: reverse princessmononoke!au, angst, fluff, slow burn, enemies to lovers, fantasy epic, slow burn, war au, wolf!au

warnings for this chapter: violence, animal attacks, mild descriptions of gore, mild body horror(?), can you tell i did my best to avoid calling them tentacles but there are only so many times i can use the words “coils” and “tendrils”, language, subtle emotional manipulation, reader feels VERY violent urges but they’re not too descriptive, hypothermia maybe?, intentional starvation for purposes of wilderness survival, chanyeol is kind of aggressive and intimidating, SO MUCH worldbuilding im srry, VERY precarious (and probably inaccurate) medical procedures performed by the reader, chanyeol is a slob but hes literally feral so??

song recs: ateez - hala hala // stevie nicks - rooms on fire // the weeknd - until i bleed out // joe hisaishi - departure (to the west) // howard shore & billy boyd - the sacrifice of faramir + to the edge of night // jorja smith - i am

word count: 11.5k

a/n: first of all, i want to apologize a little bit to the person this was meant for. i meant to write this in two parts, but due to external factors, i’m going to have to split it into three. i hope you like it <3 second of all, i think i strayed a bit from the original source material, but i hope u guys can enjoy it regardless!! merry christmas to everyone, this is a gift to my followers as well.

main masterlist // story masterlist

chapter one: the bite

It was supposed to be a routine patrol just outside the perimeter of Ironbend. You hadn’t been expecting the beasts and the rider to ambush the two of you in such a way. One moment you and Baekhyun were eyeing the treeline, the next the wolves were running up on you, and your reindeers were taking off, attempting to lead them away from the village.

“Get the others!” Baekhyun called to you, running between the trees, “I’ll lead them away from the wall!”

You nodded, directing the reindeer to veer away from the chase. You looked back, eyeing Baekhyun warily before he and his reindeer disappeared further into the trees, the sound of howling getting further and further away.

But the sound of large paws against the forest floor did not. Knowing what was coming, you turned, aiming the arrow you’d nocked earlier in your bow, and met eyes with the beast that had been chasing you.

Immediately, you knew that this beast was different. Its running pattern was erratic, as if it were tired but still euphoric, and you could see a wound on its neck, staining its fur a dark color. Not red, but almost black. You let the arrow fly at it, grazing its side, but it didn’t growl. Its sneer grew bigger, but no growl or snarl left its mouth. You faced frontwards again, watching as you came closer to the treeline, the wall of Ironbend coming into view.

“THE WOLVES!” You shouted towards the men on the parapets, standing guard, “GET THE RIDERS, THE WOLVES ARE—!”

The bite came both expectedly and unexpectedly, the wolf pouncing on you and knocking you off of your reindeer. You tumbled onto the ground, pinned down by the white wolf, feral and mad. The way your head fell against the ground, plus the cold snow left you disoriented and dizzy. Expectedly and unexpectedly, because in a fight like this, you always expect there to be injuries, maybe even casualties. But deep down, on a subconscious level, you never really expect it to be you.

Humans cling to hope, and sometimes end up having it pried from their cold, dead hands. No matter how hopeless things become, everyone always has a “maybe”, or a “what if”. And today, your “maybe” had turned sour. Out of nowhere, the white beast had locked its maw around your arm, and was thrashing you back and forth. You could feel an intense pain in your arm as its teeth broke your skin and attempted to rip off your limb. In your disorientation, you began to panic, your other arm trying to beat the animal off of you. You pulled at its fur, and threw punches, but what seemed to distract it enough was when you tugged at the wound, and managed to stick a few fingers inside, gripping whatever was in the wound.

The beast reared back as it let out a pained cry and then a ferocious snarl. You managed to scoot back at least a little bit, putting some distance between you and the wolf, and grabbed the bow, which you had dropped as you fell.

Blood was dripping down your marred arm, and in those seconds that seemed to pass like an eternity, you realized that the wolf’s saliva was, for some reason, a thick, semi translucent black color.

I’m going to die, I’m going to die, I’m going to die.

The scent of the beast’s rancid blood pierced your nose and the sound of other men shouting were the sensations you could feel around you, but not before you felt something inside of you, a deep, masculine voice echoing in your head.

Your hate infected me, the voice growled, now my hate will infect you, and you will die the same way I will: slowly, painfully and overtaken by rage.

Then the voice was ripped from your head, the same way the beast was ripped away from you as the other riders came to your rescue. You were picked up by one of them, thrown onto his reindeer behind him, and you gripped on tightly to his shirt with your uninjured arm as he turned his reindeer sharply to follow after the wolf, which was most likely returning to its pack, towards the sounds of shouting, howling, and gunshots.

“Are you okay?” He asked loudly, and you recognized the voice instantly.

“I think so,” You answered Jongdae over the wind, “I’m hurt pretty badly, but nothing Yixing can’t fix.”

With some difficulty, huffing in pain as you did so, you reached for another arrow, nocking it into your bow in preparation to let it fly at another wolf. Jongdae’s reindeer followed the wolf in its tracks, and stopped when you ran through the trees and stumbled across the fight. The wolves were incessant in their snarling and attempts to trample the riders and their reindeers, but your eyes ignored them despite the chaos, falling to Baekhyun, who was now off of his reindeer, his sword pulled out, dodging the rider’s dagger. You could see the anger on Baekhyun’s face, his chest heaving.

You couldn’t see the rider’s face. You never could whenever they attacked. All you knew was that he was significantly taller than Baekhyun, and that his hands were tanned and littered with scars. His face was covered by a red mask, back covered by the pelt of a white wolf, neck accented by a necklace of sharp teeth from different animals. His simple clothes were black, hiding the rest of his body. The man moved aggressively, grunting as he played the offense, repeatedly trying to stab your lover.

You sneered and let your arrow fly, catching him right in his right shoulder blade, piercing through his clothes. The man stopped, groaning in pain, back arching in pain. He was barely able to dodge Baekhyun, who had taken the hit as an opening for him to strike with his sword. The rider stepped back, letting out a loud whistle before getting onto the largest wolf. He whistled again, and the other wolves began to retreat, dodging the large metal bullets that rained down on them from the guns of the other soldiers.

When the silence settled, Baekhyun’s eyes settled on you, and then he was running towards you and Jongdae, eyes flashing in alarm as he saw the mangled flesh of your arm.

“What happened to you?” He asked, voice loud and concerned.

“The wolf that came after me knocked me off my reindeer,” You replied, suddenly feeling lightheaded as the adrenaline began to wear off, “Bit me pretty bad.”

He looked up at you, then to Jongdae.

“Get her to Yixing. Now.”

“The bite left her cursed.”

Murmurs broke out amongst the council of leaders, and you felt your eyes flutter shut at Yixing’s tone. Normally soft and gentle, now his tone was loud as he spoke to the ten members of the council, and you could tell he was angry.

“What do you mean cursed?” Your father, head of the council, asked.

“The beast was infected with hatred,” The healer explained, “Hatred of that kind stems from war and festers in ways we mortals cannot comprehend. As he’s a demigod, one of the sons of Selyne, it will most likely turn him into a demon.”

“One of our finest female warriors cursed by a descendant of that wretched she-wolf,” The head of war huffed, her eyes settled on the bandages of your injured arm. “How will the curse work on Y/N?”

“It will manifest as dark magic.” Yixing’s voice was low, and you felt Baekhyun’s hand tighten around your own uninjured one. “It will harm her and those around her when it does, and it will slowly spread through her body. It will kill her when it reaches her heart, or her brain—whichever it reaches first.”

You looked up. “But there has to be a cure,” You quipped, “I can’t die. I refuse to.”

“Y/N.” Yixing’s eyes were sympathetic. “There isn’t. I hate to say this to you, but this is a death sentence. By my estimates you have at best, a month and a half.”

“Can we at least slow it down, hyung?” Baekhyun asked, voice pained. Your eyes squeezed shut at the slight desperation in his voice. “Make it less painful?” “Make it less painful, maybe. Slow it down… I don’t think I can, Baek. I’m sorry.”

You watched him nod, jaw clenching, the hand atop yours clenching slightly. “There has to be something,” You insisted. “What about the story of the wounded warrior—”

“Y/N, that’s a myth.” Your father’s tone was both sympathetic at your insistence, but also angered by your refusal to accept the truth. “And besides, that myth originated centuries ago, before we took hold of our destinies and left The Spearwood to build Ironbend.”

“Do you really think the Pillars of the Forest—do you think Emyr, the proud fool that he is, would heal you as he did the wounded warrior, after three centuries of war against his kingdom? After all of the weapons we’ve created, all the soldiers of his we’ve gotten rid of, ”

“Emyr asked the warrior for a sacrifice, then. I could negotiate something with him, and—”

“And what? What if he asks to give up our weapons, to leave The Spearwood be after everything it’s done to us, so that we may be overrun? Y/N, you may be one of our finest warriors, and you may be my daughter, but I refuse to sacrifice one life over all of Ironbend.”

“Send me on my own, then, papa, but I can’t just—”

“Enough.” His tone was final, and you inhaled sharply as you attempted to control the shaking in your arms.

“You will stay here. And I promise we will do our best to make the rest of your life something for you to look fondly upon when you pass.”

“It’s bullshit,” You growled, blinking back tears as you sat on the bed in the cabin you shared with Baekhyun. “There’s a perfectly good possibility and they won’t even let me try.”

“Y/N, my love,” Baekhyun whispered, coming to kneel between your legs so he could cup your face, “It’s a suicide mission. Going into The Spearwood, of all places, in the dead of winter, to find those four gods and ask them to heal one of their enemies, I… you have to admit, it doesn’t sound logical. If the cold doesn’t kill you, then Selyne and her children certainly will.”

His hand came to rub at your cheek, nose nuzzling against yours, and you knew he was right.

In the beginning, when man was just another animal, the ancestors of Ironbend lived in The Spearwood, ruled over by the four Pillars of the Forest: Selyne, the wolf goddess, warden of the forest, Beval, the eagle god, keeper of the weather, Mirren, the bear goddess, guardian of families, and Emyr, the deer god, king of the gods, and ruler of the forest. Over time, humans became smarter: they realized they could build things with their hands that animals could not, and they grew proud enough to rally together and leave The Spearwood and the kingdom of the gods to build something permanent: Ironbend.

The forest exodus triggered a seemingly endless war, which had been going on for over three hundred years. For three hundred years, your ancestors had attempted to destroy the gods’ uncivilized way of life, to end Emyr’s tyranny and extend Ironbend across all of the Spearwood, so that it would finally be gone.

If the gods were as ruthless as they said, Emyr would never heal you when you were a part of the threat to their archaic way of life.

“Baek, I…” You whispered shakily, eyes fluttering shut. “I can’t die like this. I-I can’t. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. W-we were supposed to get married, and we were going to lead the council, and have children, and raise them to end the war, and then… Baekhyun, do you really want to give that up?”

“You think I want to give that up?” Baekhyun snapped, leaning away from you. “What, you think I want to watch you die a slow and painful death, and not do a thing about it? I—”

He caught himself when he saw the tears streaming down your face, and your injured arm shaking. You couldn’t explain the despair, the anger that washed over you, but you could see the injured skin warping and growing beneath the bandages. You felt the bandages tighten against your skin as it grew, and you grasped your injured forearm with your other hand to hold it back, because all you felt was the urge to hurt, and you wouldn’t live with yourself if you ended up hurting Baekhyun, the man who made you laugh and feel emotions you had never felt before, who had persisted to push himself up the class ladder because he wanted to be with you and help those around him.

Not him, not your Baek.

He stepped back cautiously as you took deep breaths, trying to ignore the sudden black liquid oozing slowly out from underneath the bandages, staining them dark and dirty. You began to count, and counted for an eternity, only stopping at 136 before you felt the urge dissipate, burrowing back beneath the skin it had attempted to break free from.

“Are you alright?” Baekhyun’s tone was cautious, and you opened your eyes to find that he was eyeing your arm warily. You nodded. “Better. I just… need to remain calm.”

He groaned and ran a hand over his face before pushing his hair back. “Shit, my love, I… I would march into that forest right now if I knew for sure that it would save you. But the truth of the matter is I don’t know, and neither do you, and chances are that it wouldn’t. No one has seen Emyr in a hundred years, and even if he showed himself to you, he would likely have you executed for treason.”

When you didn’t respond, his hands fell to yours, bringing them to his chest. You spread out your fingers, feeling the fabric of his cream drawstring shirt and the firm muscle beneath it.

Your eyes fell on the pendant he’d always worn: a small opal on a gold chain, which had been his father’s. Noticing your gaze, he reached behind his neck, unclasping it and placing it around your neck.

His eyes were desperate, voice breathless and slightly panicky. “Stay here, with me, Y/N. Where it’s warm, and y-you’re surrounded by people who love you, and we can be happy before you die. We can rush the wedding, I don’t care if it’s a big affair or not. If it means you spend the rest of your life with me, it would make me the happiest man in the world, and I promise I would make you feel loved until the end of your days.”

Your forehead fell against his, and his eyes fluttered shut. “I’m already on my knees, my love. Please don’t make me beg any further.”

“Baek…” You whispered, feeling his steady heartbeat beneath your fingertips. “Hold me, please.”

He nodded, quickly making his way onto the bed, ready to console you, not despite what just happened but in spite of it—he knew you were just as frightened as he was, because he knew you like the back of his hand. The argument was forgotten, and suddenly you were resting on Baekhyun’s chest, listening to him hum a lullaby to you. You let your tears stain his shirt, and he pressed kisses to your hair between beats, until the soft melody lulled you to sleep, dreaming of nothing, basking in the warmth of the arms of your betrothed.

When you awoke, you found that Baekhyun had blown out the candle on your nightstand, because your room was now dark. He was asleep beneath you, snoring softly. He looked so relaxed now that he was resting. During most of the day, his face was pulled into a grim frown, as the council met to discuss serious strategies and the needs of the people of Ironbend.

He hadn't always been that way. Even now, occasionally bits and pieces of who he was when you had first fallen in love—the brightest, funniest boy you had ever met—shone through. He could still make you and your friends laugh until your stomachs ached, but now that you were all adults, and it was time to take the war from your parents' hands, all of you had grown more serious, and pushed aside the time to simply enjoy life and each other.

You were 11 when you met Baekhyun, himself 13. You met at the training academy in the town, meant to teach children the basics: how to read and do math, the history of Ironbend and the war, . He had been a year older, and wont to make everyone laugh.

He helped you with your sword fighting skills, and in return, you helped him with his archery skills. A steady friendship bloomed, despite the fact that you were the head councilman's daughter, and Baekhyun was the child of a woman who ran away when he was a baby to be with her lover, and the town drunk. Baekhyun was crafty, however, and as he grew into a young man, he used his wits, natural charm and skill to climb the ranks.

It also helped that he invented the first prototype for the shoulder guns.

He had always been good at making things, and his prototype for the shoulder guns, small cannons loaded with large iron bullets made from the metal extracted in the mines, were what began to give the town an upper hand against the ambushes the creatures of the forests made. And for him, it was what landed him in junior council, along with all of his other abilities.

You thought of Baekhyun, and the look in his eyes when the curse kicked in. The quake in his voice when he begged you to stay. How much it was hurting him to see you like this, to know you would die. Your hand drifted to the necklace he had placed around your neck, a silent promise.

What, you think I want to watch you die a slow and painful death, and not do a thing about it?

Except there was a thing to do about it.

The wounded warrior was a story your grandmother had told you as a child—everyone knew the story as a testament to Emyr’s cruelty. The wounded warrior had gone to the deer god as he began to die from an infected wound, and begged him for a cure, so he could live to see his children and his wife. And while Emyr took pity on him, he asked him for something in return: fifteen years of loyalty, of servitude.

True to his word, the warrior did as he asked—he tended to the god’s every whim and desire, for fifteen long, grueling years. Fifteen years that, for an immortal, passed by in the blink of an eye, but for a human, were, well… fifteen years. When the warrior finally returned home, he found his wife had died believing he had died after disappearing for so long, and his children, now grown, were resentful of having grown up without a father. The warrior lived a full life, to a ripe old age, but it was a lonely one, for he had no wife or children to take care of him or keep him company.

And finally, you thought of the rider, of the odd red and gold mask that haunted both your dreams and Baekhyun’s. There were no towns around for miles, not unless you passed through the mountains, in the opposite direction of the Spearwood, and no child in Ironbend had gone missing and remained unfound for over eighty years. The man looked too young and had moved with too much energy to be 90 years old.

Your puffy eyes fluttered shut, listening to Baekhyun’s steady heartbeat.

...And not do a thing about it?

Except there was something to do about it. And while your chances were slim, there was always a chance.

Slowly, you lifted yourself off of Baekhyun’s chest and sat next to him on the bed, admiring his features as he slept. The bridge of his round nose, the moles on his face, the apples of his cheeks.

Oh, how you would miss him.

Baekhyun was a pretty heavy sleeper, but you still took great care to dress quietly, pulling on a warm shirt, thick pants and a cloak, along with a pair of winter gloves. You grimaced pulling them on, as you used your injured hand, the skin swollen and irritated, pain prickling every time you flexed your fingers or your wrist. Your heart never ceased pounding.

Next, you grabbed a satchel and went to the kitchen, packing a loaf of bread, some jam, a few strips of dried meats, and some fruit. You could find water in the streams, you figured.

Quietly, you set your bow and quiver next to the satchel on the floor, and hurried to find some ink and a scroll of paper. As you looked, a glint of silver out of the corner of your eye caught your attention.

It was one of Baekhyun’s many swords, still partially sheathed, propped up against the wall. Smaller, a bit more lightweight. He didn’t use it much precisely because of that—he preferred something heavier, that could bring down more force. You thought of the rider and his knife, and how you would most likely end up injured if he came close to you; a bow and arrow is only so good up close. You swallowed a lump in your throat, quietly picking it up. Glancing at the bedroom doorway, where you could still see Baekhyun asleep on the bed, dark hair tousled, you took a deep breath, before tying the sheath’s leather band around your waist, securing it tightly.

Blinking back tears, hands shaking, you wrote down a brief letter.

Baekhyun, my love,

Please forgive me for what I'm about to do. I can't sit here and die when I know there's at least a chance. Life will find a way. Love will find a way. I will find a way. I will do everything possible to find my way back to you, safe and sound. Don't look for me. It's dangerous enough as it is in The Spearwood, and now with the chance that I might hurt you as well… If these truly are my final days, I want you to remember as I am, and not as what the curse will turn me into.

You shine brighter than the stars, Baek. Please don't stop doing so, ever. That shine will lead me back to you even on the darkest of nights.

Forever yours,

Y/N

Tiptoeing, you set down the weathered paper on your side of the bed, before looking at Baekhyun one last time. Carefully, you leaned over him, and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“No matter what happens, we’ll see each other again,” You whispered against his skin, “And after you're done yelling at me, I’ll kiss you the way you deserve.”

Escaping was an easy feat when you knew the standard night patrol route—even easier when you were the one who wrote them. Carrying all of your things, you made your way to the stables, the moon your only source of light.

There was no one in the stables, which made saddling up Ivan, your reindeer, easier. In the silence as you worked hastily, you began to doubt your actions. Go back, a voice whispered somewhere in the back of your mind, stay with your family, stay with Baekhyun. Hold him tight and don't let go until you die. Kiss him like it will free you from the curse, even though it won't. Be happy. Make them happy.

Your eyes drifted down to the bandage, which you had changed right before leaving, feeling the slight throb of your skin. You were reminded of the things that hung in the balance—or rather, imbalance. The unfairness of it all. Yes, life was unfair, but here you had a chance to take at least something back.

And so you didn’t go back. You continued to saddle up the reindeer, slinging the bag over its side, and finally, you left the stable, and quietly made your way towards one of the side gates. You knew the main gate was the one most heavily guarded, and that the side gates were generally more lax. Given the position of the moon in the sky, which was slowly being covered by clouds, you could also tell that the guards’ shift would be ending, and there would be a brief period where the gate was left unattended.

With baited breath, you waited, holding the large creature’s harness in your uninjured hand, watching from behind a corner as the guards stood at their posts. For about ten minutes, your heart pounding in your chest the entire time, you watched the parapets, and then turned to look at the alleyway you were hiding in. You did your best to hold your breath when you peeked around the corner, knowing that the condensation could give you away if they happened to look your way.

Finally, the two guards walked away, mumbling to each other as they did, and you took this as your cue. You led your reindeer to the gate, and pulled off the thick iron plank that locked the gate, careful to not make a noise.

When it was open, you hopped onto the reindeer, nudged him slightly, and he slowly walked into the treeline. You looked down at the snow, and hoped that the dark would hide the trail until it started to snow.

You rode on Ivan’s back for hours, until the darkness started to slowly fade. Somewhere during that time, it had started to snow. Now, the forest floor was covered with a fresh sheet of snow, that looked a shade of light blue rather than white, now during the twilight. During that span of time, as you rode on deeper and deeper into the forest, you realized the sheer magnitude of it. The stories the village elders had told you and the other children to keep away from the woods, and stay inside of the walls: that the servants of the gods were large creatures with sharp white teeth and long nasty claws, that the Spearwood was alive, and knew that humans had abandoned it, so it tricked travelers into going in circles—no matter how close the treeline seemed to be, you could walk for hours and never cross it because of the Spearwood’s magic, playing tricks on your eyes until you succumbed to the cold, or dehydration, or hunger.

Paranoia was trickling its way into your head, albeit slowly. As you stopped to let Ivan rest, you pulled out a piece of cured meat, chewing it until your jaw was sore as Ivan dug his hooves into the snow, only stopping when he found a patch of grass to chew on. You looked up at the sky, and then in all four directions. You knew that the mountains opposite the Spearwood were towards the north, and by going north you would eventually leave the forest and find Ironbend, but currently, with the snowfall and the clouds, you had no idea which way that was.

But you didn’t plan on returning until you knew for sure the gods would listen to you.

Apparently, the gods weren’t very keen on listening.

Onward you went for days, panic slowly kicking in as you realized that you had no way of actually knowing in which direction you were headed. You seemed to be riding Ivan in circles, and the silence of the forest, save for the sound of Ivan’s hooves against the snow, was beginning to drive you to madness. Every few hours you switched between walking on him and riding, taking quick breaks every time you decided to switch. The isolation was quickly becoming too much to handle.

You thought of your friends, of your family, of Baekhyun, of everything said that night before you left. You didn’t want to imagine what was happening back home, but you couldn’t help it, what with walking around all day and not having anything to do.

You knew that your parents must have been heartbroken, and that your friends would likely be losing their minds. But you knew that you were doing what felt right.

You had packed enough small snacks to last you about three weeks if you rationed correctly, but you felt as though you were constantly running on empty, never fully satisfied. You drank water every time you came past streams or snowmelts, because you didn’t know when you would find one again, cupping your hands together and drinking until you were practically full, fingers pained from the freezing water and your throat sore.

The falling snow would stop periodically, and then start up again. Not very heavy, but not precisely light either. Your face became perpetually cold, your fingers cramped harshly to the point when you would wince in pain when you needed to change your bandages.

The wound was getting worse. The curse was beginning to spread. Initially, while it had started at the bite mark in the middle of your forearm, it was now making its way to your elbow and wrist. The tissue seemed to be turning necrotic as well, secreting a sort of mucous substance that was black. The smell was bearable when you had the bandage on, but every time you took them off to change them your eyes watered and you had to hold back the urge to gag.

When night fell, you slept on Ivan, who was pretty comfortable in the cold, laying down in it and laying against the trees. You had never realized just how dark the world could be without lanterns to light your way, and your small oil lantern barely illuminated anything. It did well warming your hands though, which would cramp when they felt the heat.

Worst of all, the deeper you went into the forest, the more it felt like you were being watched. Which was odd, because you saw no animals. None at all, which only served to put you on edge more.

The first two days it seemed fine, but after that, it changed. Now that you knew that you were well and truly on your own, the crisp winter air felt tense. Even Ivan became a bit skittish, and you felt bad for bringing your innocent reindeer into such a stressful situation. You were on edge all hours of the day now, eyes darting from side to side always, ears straining as you listened for something, anything. It was as if the whole forest was holding its breath, waiting to release its wrath on you.

Three more days passed before it finally did.

They came when you came across a lake in the middle of the afternoon, seemingly unfrozen. You got off of Ivan, an odd sensation pooling in your gut as you approached the crystal clear body of water. Oddly enough, you felt at peace, and for the first time in days, the striking silence was comforting. Now, instead of feeling like the forest was holding its breath anxiously, almost angrily, it felt as if it was holding its breath in anticipation.

The water was clear as day and seemed to span for miles. Trees grew out of the depths, and in the center, a small island emerged out of it. When you focused on the island, you felt your eyes widen—there was no snow on it at all. Quite the contrary, actually. It was a lush, beautiful green, with a blossoming tree smack in the middle of it. For such a small island, you were certain it was the brightest green you’d ever seen.

Your dry throat almost burned in anticipation as you kneeled. At this point, it had been about a day since you had last come across water, and your head was starting to ache. When you dipped your fingers in, you gasped. The water wasn’t freezing like it had been in the other streams you came across, nor was it cold. It was tepid, bordering on lukewarm. It felt kind, it felt welcoming, and while the setting lured you into a sense of security, you couldn’t help but feel as if this was wrong, because it was a lake, in a dangerous forest. It couldn’t welcome you, not at all.

That snapped you out of your trance, and you turned just in time to face the rider as he tackled you to the ground, pinning you down against the snow, the sudden cold causing your back to arch. You were vaguely aware of Ivan being startled, and the sound of growling somewhere off to your left, but you were more preoccupied by the red mask hovering above you, and the dagger about to come down on your face. You grabbed the man by his wrists, arms straining with effort as your injured arm flared in pain, wrenching a guttural cry from your lips.

You pulled him forward, causing him to lose his balance and topple next to you. You took your chance, straddling his chest and knocking the dagger out of his hand with a kick. You pinned his arms down, before pulling off the mask swiftly, sneering at him.

But you stopped when you saw his face.

Somehow, you found yourself entranced; for his features were contorted into rage and pain but you had never seen such a beautiful person. His eyes were large and round, a deep dark brown. His plump lips were curled into a harsh sneer. He had painted three long triangles across his face with what appeared to be dried blood: one below each of his eyes, the third one in the middle of his forehead, ending beneath his eyebrows.

His large ears, hidden beneath black, shaggy hair, gave him an elfish look. He was wearing large, white, circular earrings.. Beneath you, you could tell he was pure muscle, large and beefy to the point where it left you reeling because, oh, gods, how can one man be so big?

He took the chance and flipped you over, a groan leaving your throat when your head hit the ground hard, but saw an opening quickly and lifted your leg to knee him in the groin. He toppled over, groaning in pain, and for one final time, you found the roles reversed. On top of him, you unsheathed Baekhyun’s sword, ready to subdue the rider. You pressed the blade to his neck, poising yourself to speak—

When one of the wolves grabbed you by the collar of your cloak, dragging you away from him. The wolf stilled even though you continued to struggle against it. You could feel your injured arm bleeding beneath the bandages, and the subtle tremors riding throughout it as you watched the rider stumble to his knees, picking up the sword, and crawling towards you.

He did the same you had done and pressed the blade to your neck, breath heaving from his chest, air puffing into the cold. If he had been angry before, now he was furious, and while a small side of you felt the urge to cower back in fear, you could feel one side of your body heating up slowly, a sensation you hadn’t felt in over a week slowly making its way back into your system.

“Why are you here?” His deep, menacing tone didn’t sound like much of a question, but rather an accusation.

“Take me to Emyr,” You demanded immediately. “I need to speak with him.”

He blinked. For a second, he seemed taken aback, almost offended. But then his features hardened again, and he pressed the iron even further into your neck. It didn’t break the skin but you felt a sting against your windpipe, grimacing at the sensation. Your fingers curled into fists, your entire body trembling now as you felt something moving underneath the bandages, beneath your very flesh.

“Don’t tell me what to do, human,” He spat, “This is not your forest.”

The wolf behind you growled, and you felt it one last time: the urge to hurt, the urge to kill, a feeling of absolute hatred. This time, as opposed to the first time, you didn’t hold it in, and you didn’t count. When the black goo oozed from your skin, turning the air rancid, you didn’t gag, but rather embraced it.

And a split second later, just as the man had lowered his gaze to where the smell was coming from, his eyes widening at the bandages stained black, it was too late.

This being only the second time you had felt it, and this being the first time you didn’t restrain it, you weren’t fully sure what you were expecting. But you most certainly weren’t expecting your arm to bend into a shape it wasn’t supposed to bend into, in a direction it wasn’t supposed to go. And you definitely weren’t expecting black, slimy tendrils to break your skin, pushing the man away with so much force that his back pushed itself into a tree. He yelled out in pain, clutching at his right shoulder.

The violent coils did the same to the wolf, pushing it off to the side. And while momentarily, you rejoiced in the lack of restraint, it was taken over almost immediately by panic, because you just didn’t know how to make it stop. What frightened you even more was that a part of you didn’t want it to stop. As the tendrils flailed angrily, attempting to reach the man and the wolves as well, you felt the need to let it consume you, and then let it consume the man, and the wolves, and eventually, the entire forest. You wanted them dead, gone, burned to the ground, because none of this would have happened had it been for this disgusting fucking forest.

But you knew that wasn’t the way.

Fury coursed through your veins, and your eyesight blurred, quite literally blinded by anger. Clinging to your logic, you pushed yourself onto your front, pressing all of your weight onto the monstrosity that had once been your arm. The adrenaline had stopped you from feeling it before, but now, as you pressed your mangled arm into the ground, you could feel how broken it was, how the skin ached where the coils had broken through. You cried out in pain, in anger, in sheer terror, praying for it to stop. But it simply wouldn’t, and you wondered if you had come all this way to die because you had pushed the curse too much.

Your mind went to Baekhyun as you screamed, of the way his eyes sparkled when the sunlight filtered in through the window in the mornings, when you woke up next to him. You started to believe you would never see them again. How you had broken his trust for an irrational decision you had made because of your stubbornness and pride, and how now you would never see the man you loved again, all because you believed you were right when you were so very, very wrong.

But somehow, the thought of him grounded you, and you felt the curse weaken. Still, it was something, and you squeezed your eyes shut, sobbing as you conjured up mental images of Baekhyun making you laugh, and recalled the sensation of his lips softly kissing yours. You remembered the time he had first held your hand, at fourteen, right after an intense sparring session, and how at fifteen, you had been the one to kiss him, even though he was the one who asked you, because he was too nervous and unsure of what to do.

The black appendages finally retreated back beneath your skin when you remembered how he had held you that last night before you fell asleep, and only when your free hand found its way to the pendant around your neck did your bones snap forcefully back into place. You were left hyperventilating, struggling to catch your breath as you buried your face into the snow, attempting to hide your weakness from your enemies. You heard footsteps crunching in the snow, coming closer and closer, but they froze when another rush of footsteps came from another direction.

Even though you weren’t looking, you knew it was a large party. There was simply too much thumping for it to be one person… or whatever they were. All sound stopped, save for your panting, before you heard scrambling, and you lifted your gaze in time to watch the man drop to one knee, bowing his head in submission.

“My king,” He murmured, and you turned your head ever so slightly to the direction in which he was leaning. Your heart was pounding in your chest, blood roaring in your ears, and your teary eyes widened as you saw what you saw.

The giant deer walked poised mere feet away from you commanded a presence over all of the other animals that had just arrived with him. You saw other deer, more reindeer, foxes, wolves, bears. In the trees all kinds of birds were perched, an eagle resting on a branch almost directly above the large creature.

Its antlers were large, larger than you had ever seen, branching out in all directions, almost forming a sort of crown. When it took a step forward, you watched in awe as flowers and grass began to bloom where he stepped, peeking out from beneath the snow.

Emyr, you realized with a chill, the deer god. King of the gods, ruler of the forest.

So, the god rumbled, without truly speaking, voice echoing through your mind, what is the meaning of all of this?

Come to find out, Emyr wasn’t the only spirit you were in the presence of. Your weapons were confiscated. As the wolf dragged your body—weak from what just happened—through the snow, you realized that the four Pillars of the Forest were all around you. Emyr was leading the animals ahead of you, but the man walked next to the wolf as it dragged you, and next to him, walked the other wolves. The biggest one eyed you with burning distrust, and wisdom beyond your years, and when you locked eyes with her, something within you knew that this was Selyne, warden of the forest and goddess of the hunt. She growled softly, and the man’s eyes snapped to her, ready to listen to what she had to say.

Disgusting, she growled, the nerve you have, little girl, to march all the way into this forest and injure my sons even more than you already have. I should rip your throat out right now—

Selyne. A giant brown bear lumbered up next to her, speaking gently but cautiously, she came here for a reason. The least we could do is listen before you do so, sister.

Your eyes widened, realizing this was Mirren, the bear goddess of family, matron of the forest. The wolf goddess let out something akin to a scoff, and before they could continue their discussion, Emyr stopped at a clearing not far off from the lake, where it seemed winter hadn’t touched down, grass green beneath you. The sun shone through a hole in the clouds, warming up the atmosphere, and your body shivered as you felt its heat pour over your body. In the center of the clearing, a large rock had three ledges, and a hole in the very bottom.

The Pillars of the Forest settled into the great stone. Mirren walked into the hole, Selyne hopped onto the lowest ledge, Emyr onto the middle ledge. Moments later, the eagle you had seen resting above Emyr’s head earlier flew onto the highest ledge, and you realized that this was Beval, the eagle god.

The animals around you chittered anxiously. The wolf set you down onto your knees, but did not step back. The rider stepped forward, however. He had picked up his dagger after you had been dragged away by the brown wolf, and now he held it forward to your neck once more. A silent threat.

Silence, Emyr said, and the animals obeyed. You could hear a pin drop.

State your name, child, the bear ordered, and you cleared your throat.

“Y/N,” You answered, voice raspy and gruff after not having spoken, “Y/N L/N.”

State your purpose in this forest. Selyne’s anger was barely contained, you could tell, but you refused to back down. Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself, and flexed your free arm.

“I was cursed, great goddess,” You stated, “Cursed by one of your sons. I came to plead forgiveness, and ask to be healed.”

Forgiveness? Beval huffed, Healed? After everything your people have done to this forest? Burning your fires, taking our resources, and repeatedly trying to destroy our homes?

You looked down, before meeting the eagle’s strict gaze again. “I understand, my lord, that your kind and mine have been at war for hundreds of years. But I don’t wish to bring any of you harm, not right now into—”

Not now that you need us, Emyr deduced, and you bit your lip.

“I don’t intend to use you for your powers, great king. I offer my service in return.”

If you don’t wish to harm us, why attack my son? Your eyes turned to the wolf goddess, trying to think of how to answer without angering her further. How do we know you’re even telling the truth?

“I was surprised,” You said after a few seconds of mulling over your answer, “His ambush caused me to panic, and defend myself. I understand why he’d do so if he didn’t know my intentions.”

“Even knowing your intentions, I’d have done it,” The man grumbled, “You’re a fool.”

You glared at him, but didn’t retaliate. You didn’t need to make yourself look worse.

What is this curse you speak of, Y/N? Mirren asked, And what do you mean it was one of Selyne’s sons who cursed you?

You told the story, choosing your words cautiously. Describing the attack, you watched as Selyne’s ears picked up, and she sat up straight, lifting her head. You described the tendrils, the black substance that secreted from your arm, the anger and hatred you felt when it controlled you. And you described remembering the story of the wounded warrior, how the curiosity drove you to leave home and wander for days until you came here.

Ah, the warrior, Emyr murmured warmly, Doyoung. What a fine young man. Of course, the circumstances were different then. His kind—your kind—was still a part of this kingdom, and he came to me looking to cheat death when he was wounded while he defended the Spearwood.

“I understand, great king,” You answered, “But my plea still stands. Free me from this curse, and I will work as the warrior did.”

Resilient, determined. Mirren sounded amused. She’s not going to give up, brother.

And what after you finish your years of service? Obviously, Selyne couldn’t be swayed, You return to your little Irontown, and continue to plot our downfall?

“Ironbend, and no, great goddess. You see, I am the leader’s only daughter. Next in line to inherit his place.”

You had your trump card, you realized, as the four gods took notice, all four of them exchanging glances, leaning forward. You could work around the original terms.

"My kind are tired of this war," You explained, growing more and more confident, "As I expect your kind are as well. It's all I've known, all my father's known, and all his father has known. If I can offer my people a stop to this war, I am willing to negotiate a truce of some sort.”

A truce… Beval mused, What are your conditions?

“I can’t stay as long as the warrior did. They’ll move on from me and pass my claim to the next person in line. Let me go back as soon as I am healed, and when I take my father’s place, I shall return, and we can negotiate a truce.”

Let you go, as soon as you are healed… The deer god repeated. I see what you are trying to do, girl. Don’t think you can fool a god.

“No, great king, I don’t intend to—”

I am thousands of years old. You think you can fool me? My terms for healing are simple, service and loyalty to my kingdom. You are neither loyal to my kingdom, nor are you willing to serve me.

You forced yourself to take deep breaths, attempting to remain calm. This had come so close to the way you had wanted it to.

You are too proud and too stubborn. You think that your status will help you now. No. I will heal not heal you… but you will remain in this forest. Learn a thing or two, and maybe then we can negotiate this again.

"Stay in the forest? I… For how long? My healer told me I only had a month and a half to live. I—"

For as long as is needed. You do this on my terms, or not at all. If you wish to go, then do so at any moment. The war will continue and you will still be cursed. If you wish to be healed, you will stay until you earn your freedom from this curse.

You swallowed a growing lump in your throat, meeting the god's eyes. "Very well, great king. I accept your terms."

Very well... But you will not serve me. You will serve Selyne and her sons.

Your eyes widened, darting nervous to the white wolf. She looked displeased with the situation, but said nothing.

He's doing this on purpose, you thought, he knows Selyne wants me dead so he's making it harder for me.

Selyne spoke again. Serve me? Well, then. My sons will work with you. Her eyes looked at the wolf behind you and at the rider. As punishment.

The wolf behind you huffed, and the rider tensed. "Mother, I—"

Quiet, both of you. My orders were simple. You were forbidden from leaving the inner circle of the forest without me, and forbidden from instigating the humans. You did both. You could have been killed, or injured as your brother is now. You deliberately disobeyed me and now because of your foolish actions, we have a human who has seen the inner circle, and knows where the most important part of the forest is.

As insolent as she is, she has come for a purpose. She is to fulfill that purpose, and you will help her do so. Am I understood?

"Mother, she's—"

Chanyeol, the she-wolf growled, don't test me.

Chanyeol. So that was his name.

The princes of the forest, working with a human, Mirren said, this should be interesting.

You could tell that Chanyeol was not pleased with the situation. The other wolves of his pack as well. After the meeting was adjourned, and the other animals dispersed, Chanyeol pushed you to your knees, and he growled at you, "Follow me."

You obeyed wordlessly, taking note of his temperament. You walked aimlessly, for about twenty minutes. Surprisingly, Ivan, ever faithful, walked behind you, but you could sense some apprehension from him. Your eyes looked at Chanyeol's back, covered by the pelt of a white wolf, serving the same purpose as your cloak.

Your cloak, which had been dragged through the snow, and was now wet. You did your best to hide your shivering. You could deal with that later.

To distract yourself, you let your eyes stray to the wolves. There were three of them, all smaller than Selyne but bigger than the average wolf. One, the brown wolf who had dragged you along. The second one, black, the third one a classic timber gray.

You realized that the white wolf who had bitten you wasn't there.

"Where's the white one?" You asked, voice quiet and curious. Chanyeol and the three wolves stopped walking, and turned to look at you.

"Resting," Chanyeol answered. You nodded, not answering, and they continued on, trailing behind them. You walked a little longer until you stumbled across a cave. Their den, you realized. You stopped, and so did Ivan behind you. You watched as Chanyeol and the other three wolves made their way into the den, but you couldn’t find the courage to enter. You almost felt as if you were trespassing.

You turned to your reindeer, skittish and eyeing the den, and walked towards him, caressing the side of his head. “You’ll be okay, big guy,” You murmured, “I’m not letting anything happen to you.”

Your stomach rumbled, and you sighed softly, pulling out your loaf of bread and the little remaining jam there was.

It was a miracle you’d managed to make the bread last this long, you mused to yourself as you spread the jam onto it.

“What is that?”

You jumped, letting out a soft squeak. You turned to Chanyeol, who had creeped up on you while his brothers remained in the den. His face remained stoic and bordering on annoyed. “Stop fucking doing that,” You snapped, “It’s bread and jam.”

He tilted his head, and you blinked. “Do… I’m guessing that isn’t a thing here?”

Chanyeol shook his head, his earrings swinging as he did so. You pursed your lips, before breaking the slice in half. Slowly, you offered him one. Eyeing it with curiosity, and slight disdain, he grabbed his half. Then his dark gaze met yours. “You first.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “What?”

“This. You eat it first.”

Raising your eyebrows, you wondered if he thought it was poisoned. As if you would be stupid enough to poison the son of the goddess who hated you most, in front of all of his brothers. “Fine,” You huffed, and took a bite, eyes widening and shaking your head at him challengingly. He narrowed his eyes at you, studying your appearance.

His eyes stopped for a moment when they landed on Baekhyun’s necklace. But a second later, he looked back up at you, and took a bite once he saw you swallow, before making his way back to the den. Shivering, you finished your jam before taking over your wet cloak. It was even heavier now that it was wet.

Here, in what the gods called the inner circle of The Spearwood, it wasn’t as cold, so you hung your cloak over a low hanging branch and hoped it would dry soon. Now, you were unsure what to do. Chanyeol had gone to lay down with the wolves, presumably, and you stood awkwardly as you were left unsure what to do. You were tired after everything that had happened in the past hour or so—the attack, your meeting with the gods, now this—but you weren’t sure where you would sleep for now. You weren’t sure if you were welcomed in the den.

So you made your way over to a rock opposite the den, sitting on it and resting your head against a tree stump growing right next to it. You thought over everything that had happened, but mainly, how you had handled the curse. Your hand gripped the opal with your free hand, staring off into the trees.

The curse is fueled by hatred, you surmised, love is what will ground you.

You wondered what Baekhyun was doing right now, as you watched the forest grow darker slowly. For a horrifying thought, you wondered what could have happened to him that night if you hadn’t managed to control yourself. You quickly pushed it away, not willing to get caught up on what could have happened, but didn’t Your eyes grew heavier and heavier as you thought of home, and beneath your eyelids, the images danced so vividly…

“Wake up.” The voice was gruff, calloused hands shaking you haphazardly. You furrowed your eyebrows, humming softly as your eyes adjusted to the darkness. It had grown colder, and you found that you actually had managed to fall asleep. The sky had finally cleared up, the moon high up in the sky.

“What’s going on?” You asked, rubbing your eyes, trying to ignore the pain in your lower back. You looked up at Chanyeol, who had pulled his mask back onto his face.

“We’re patrolling the border between the inner circle and the outer one. You’re coming with us.” His voice was muffled from behind the mask.

“Oh,” You answered, “Okay.”

You stood, arching your back to stretch out the kinks. The other wolves were standing behind Chanyeol, and he pointed at each one.

“Junmyeon,” He said at the brown wolf.

“Kyungsoo.” The black wolf.

“Jongin.” The gray wolf.

You nodded at all of them awkwardly, unsure how to address them. They eyed you with disdain, Kyungsoo pulling off the first ever eye roll you’d seen on a wolf. Junmyeon huffed at him, and Chanyeol shook his head. “Whatever,” He grumbled, “Let’s go.”

The night was rough. Ivan was asleep, so all you had were your feet to trudge through the snow. For hours, you walked through trees and over rocks.

You were trailing through the snow with Chanyeol, having pulled on your cloak again. He was riding Junmyeon, who was walking slower than the others. The brown wolf seemed to be the most gentle of the three—four? You had yet to see the fourth—wolves, watching you with more indifference than dislike.

Kyungsoo and Jongin trailed ahead, seemingly content ignoring you.

“You do this every night?” You asked Chanyeol. He nodded. “Our mother is the warden of the Spearwood. It’s only natural that we take after her.”

You nodded in understanding. “Will I be coming with you every—”

“Yes. Stop talking.” His head turned to face forward again, back on alert.

The night was incredibly awkward and tense. You were unsure if the tension was due to the alertness of the wolves on patrol or because of you.

A few minutes later, you spoke again. “Will I meet your other brother?”

Everyone stopped, slowly turning to face you. The three wolves’ eyes were narrowed at you, and you immediately knew that you had said the wrong thing. Kyungsoo took a step forward with a growl, but Junmyeon growled back at him, and he backed off.

“He’s injured.” Chanyeol’s voice was clipped. “He was injured by people like you with those—those things.”

“Why can’t Emyr heal him?” You asked, tilting your head. “If he’s powerful enough to heal me, then why can’t he heal—”

“Because we don’t understand his injury,” Chanyeol snapped, getting off of Junmyeon. He began to approach you. “We understand the curse, but not the injury. If we can’t heal the injury, we can’t stop the curse. We understand your injury and your curse. It’s different. You wouldn’t understand. Now—”

“But I want to understand—”

“You could never understand,” Chanyeol snarled, making his way into your personal space, “Your kind never do, the vermin that you are.”

You glared up at the unwavering red mask, even harsher in the moonlight, inches away from your face. “Now stop talking,” Chanyeol demanded, poking you square in your upper chest, “And don’t talk about my brothers as if you deserve to.”

He made his way back up onto Junmyeon, and the foursome continued, not even watching to see if you walked to keep up.

Junmyeon stopped walking at your speed for the rest of the long, cold night.

When you made your way back to the den, the sun was beginning to rise. As Chanyeol got off of Junmyeon, and shooed his brother away, you approached him.

“Why can’t I hear your conversations?”

You’d realized they were having a conversation pretty early on after your little spat, but didn’t comment on it, mainly because Chanyeol decided to whisper to his brothers so as to leave you out. You found it petty. But now, your curiosity got the best of you.

Chanyeol pulled back the hood of his pelt and took off his mask, scowling at you.“Why does it matter?”

“Because I might never understand, but I can try.”

Chanyeol scoffed at you, pushing past you. You’d had enough. Your feet were aching, your fingers and the tip of your nose were numb, your lips were close to breaking because of how chapped you were, and you were hungry and dehydrated.

So yes, you gripped his shoulder roughly, and pulled him back. You weren’t expecting him to let out a pained cry, and you didn’t expect to feel something hard beneath the cloak.

Immediately, the three wolves stood from where they had gone to lay down, snarling angrily, but he waved them away. They stopped snarling, but didn’t sit.

“What is—”

“Don’t touch me,” He said, swatting your hand away.

“Let me help you,” You countered earnestly. “Please.”

“Why should I?”

You made a face. “Because I might be able to figure out what’s hurting you?”

Chanyeol rolled his eyes. “I already know what’s hurting me.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Then why haven’t you been able to stop it? It’s a shoulder injury, it’s not that h—”

You stopped midway, when your eyes drifted to his injured shoulder, hidden beneath his clothes, his right shoulder.

The very one you had shot the day you got bitten.

“I did that,” You mumbled, gears turning in your head “...And you can’t have one of Emyr’s healers treat you because… up until yesterday, no one knew you had left the inner circle of the forest.”

A smug grin spread across your face. “Scared of mommy finding out, huh?”

Oh, if looks could kill.

You shook your head, your smile leaving your face. “Really. Let me help, Chanyeol. Let me right a wrong of my own doing.”

Chanyeol’s eyes looked you up and down, eyeing you suspiciously. Finally, he grunted out softly, before nodding his head in your direction once. “What are you gonna do?”

You had him lead you to the nearest body of water, a small stream about ten minutes from the den. You sat him down on the banks of the stream, where there was no snow. You set down what you had brought: his knife, plus your bandages and a small jar of ointment Yixing had given you for your cut.

It wasn’t working on you, but you had a feeling it was more due to the fact that you were cursed by ancient dark magic.

“Take off your clothes.” You pulled off your cloak and rolled up your sleeves. He made a perplexed face. “What are you—”

“Keep your pants on,” You added hastily, “I need to see the injury.”

After a few seconds of hesitation, he pulled off the pelt, and set it down gently next to where he was sitting. His tattered black shirt was also removed, and set down on top of it, but he left his necklace of animal teeth on. Kneeling behind him, your eyes settled on the tan skin of his back, before spotting the wound.

He must have broken the wooden shaft of the arrow as he tried to remove it, because the edge was splintered and the arrowhead was lodged in his skin. The skin around the wound was an angry red, swollen. You could even see a bit of pus caking in the crevice of the cut.

You picked up the knife, mentally noting where you would cut around to pull the arrowhead out. Your other hand rested on his other. “This is gonna hurt,” You told him, voice soft, “I’m sorry.”

You pressed down around the wound gently at first, feeling him tense up beneath you. Then, when you pressed down with more force, he hissed in pain. Finally, when you plunged the knife into the wound, he groaned out.

His breathing turned heavy as you tried to work quickly, but not too hastily as to butcher your work. You used the knife as a sort of separation between the arrowhead and his skin, trying gently to pull it out.

When you finally did, he let out a harsh, shaky breath, fists balled.

You led him to the stream, using your hands to wash out the wound. It wasn’t hot at all, and it probably wasn’t the cleanest, but it was the next best thing. Trying to remember how Yixing had done it that time you Jongdae accidentally shot Minseok with his bow, and you rinsed out the pus eventually.

You slathered on the ointment a bit more generously than you probably should have, trying your best to not hurt him too much, before dressing the wound with some of your gauze. You ripped off a bit of fabric from your pant leg, before looping it below his arm and tying it taut, so the bandage wouldn’t slip free.

“Better?” You asked when you were finished.

“I suppose,” He answered, moving his shoulder to test it out, “...Yes.”

You smiled, even though he wasn’t facing you. “You go back. I need to change my own bandages.”

“You know which way to go?” He asked, pulling on his shirt, and then his pelt.

“Yes,” You answered, watching as he picked up his knife before he stalked off.

He didn’t even thank you. You wondered vaguely if he knew how.

When you returned, now with fresh bandages, Chanyeol had curled up in the den with his brothers, and you went over to Ivan, who was chewing on some grass he’d found to put away your bandages and the ointment. Wordlessly, you flexed your fingers, watching how the skin had turned a black, necrotic color that would look unnatural on any skin tone. You wondered vaguely how much longer you had, before shaking your head.

You fell asleep again on the hard, uncomfortable rock, sleeping for hours upon hours.

You woke again in the late afternoon, around the same time you had first been attacked by Chanyeol and his brothers. The wolves were awake, some milling around the den and the others sitting in a circle. You could smell blood, and you perked up, figuring it must have been a catch.

Slowly, you made your way over to them. Jongin noticed you first, gaze hardening. His snout was stained red, and you looked down between his paws to see a piece of red meat. Chanyeol turned around when he realized Jongin was looking at you, looking you up and down before turning again. You pursed your lips at his face, the skin around his mouth stained with blood—he'd obviously been eating the meat raw like the others.

"Can I…?"

"You have your own food."

You sighed. "Not really. Not enough to satisfy myself for a whole day."

Chanyeol stared at you for a few moments, looking disinterested, before sighing. He pulled out his knife, before cutting off a sizable chunk of meat from the deer. He handed it to you, and you nodded. "Thanks," you mumbled, before walking off, sitting on your designated rock.

You needed to figure out how to cook this thing.

Thankfully, they hadn't taken your oil lantern, which you quickly uncapped and lit, before breaking a small branch off of the tree. You used the branch to pierce the meat, before letting it hover over the flame.

The flame was a bit small, but you knew it would cook eventually. At least until the exterior was cooked.

While you'd been working, you didn't realize that Junmyeon had made his way over to the circle, all of the wolves watching you.

What is she doing? Jongin asked, perplexed. She looks insane.

"I don't know," Chanyeol answered, leaning over to the gray wolf, "Maybe it's a human thing."

She's gonna burn it, Kyungsoo huffed, before spitting out a bone. If she doesn't burn down the entire forest first.

Chanyeol rolled his eyes. Yes, you were foolish, but he doubted you were incompetent enough to burn down an entire forest.

No, he's got a point. Junmyeon's tone was serious. Yeol, go see what she's doing. It could be dangerous.

Chanyeol set down his chunk of deer, wiping his hands off and making his way to you. Your eyes met his once he was standing in front of you. “Can I help y—”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m cooking my meat.” You sounded matter-of-fact. “I don’t want to get sick by eating it raw.”

Chanyeol tilted his head, frowning. “We’ve never gotten sick like that.”

“You’re used to raw meat, and they’re wolves. I am neither. So I have to.”

He pointed at the lantern, eyeing it warily. “What’s that?”

You stared at him for a second, before realizing just how isolated he had been from the human world. He didn’t know what bread or jam was, nor did he know about lanterns. He called guns those things, and he eyed you like you were other, as if you didn’t have the same shape of limbs, the same joints, ligaments and bones.

“I-it’s a lantern,” You explained, snapping out of your thoughts. You explained how it worked, how it was lit, and how you had to wait for it to cook the fire before you could eat it.

You didn’t notice how your bodies scooted closer every few seconds.

Neither did Chanyeol.

104 notes · View notes

we-always-hit-our-ass · 5 years ago

Note

Heyyyy uh I love your stuff and I had an idea that wont let me sleep 😂 What if like the reader was mia or something and everyone was really upset and nervous and cobb kept saying how you were dead until doc roe just has enough of his bullshit and just punches him. (Feel free to change the character i just thought doc losing his composure was an interesting concept) bonus points for romantic connection? Im sorry if this is horrible im vry vry tired

Taglist: @radiantcade, @deldontplay, @thatsonefishyboi, @noneofurbusinez, @meteora-fc, @hufflepuffpancakes

yo i can totally get why this idea wouldn’t let u sleep. its because its damn good-

lovely anon, this one is for you ;))))

also italic means past events-

words: 2.8k words (aww srry if its shorter than my other fics)

warnings: some violence, cursing, ANGST and sadly no resolved or happy ending :’((((

btw thank u @radiantcade for tellin me to make a taglist, major kudos to u ma’am. btw if you want to be added just hmu, no worries ;)))

Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder (Eugene Roe x Reader)

---------------------

“Aw, Genie! Don’t look at me that way!”

“Looking at you like what?”

“Like you’re mad! C’mon Genie, it was only a joke! Y’know I didn’t mean to make you upset by taking your morphine-”

Gene shot you a look which seemed to look like a mix of exasperation and annoyance. He stiffly grabbed the small packets of morphine that were being held in your grip. Eugene then quickly stuffed them in his pocket before walking away from your position with his signature blank look.

“I’m not mad.”

“Hey! You are! I can tell by your face.”

You followed after him, desperate for him to accept your apology, or at least for him to give you a smile. You desperately tried to keep up with him, his brisk pace making it a challenge for you to walk by his side.

“Well, this is the face I got.”

He walked faster, seemingly trying to avoid or lose you. He walked through buildings, dove straight forward into crowds of people, or even going as far as to tell someone to block you. You still made haste though, and in no time were already hot on his heel.

You grew tired of it and reached out to grab his hand. After you had his hand in yours, he stopped immediately and turned slowly to face you.

“For someone who’s mad, you’re acting awfully childish.”

“(Y/N), for the last time, I’m not mad. I can never get mad at you”

“Then what are you?”

You stood in front of him with one eyebrow quirked up and your hands on your hips. You tapped your foot on the ground as you waited for an answer.

You were left shocked as he pushed by you. He was only a couple steps away from you until he turned with a small smile and gave you a shrug before heading back to the Med Bay.

---------------------

It was that day, the day that Eugene Roe realized how much he cared for you.

It’s been four days since you disappeared from Easy Company. Four. Fucking. Days. Everybody was extremely worried and your absence has made everyone tense.

If someone as lovable and skilled as you was missing, then they certainly wouldn’t stand a chance.

The men weren’t the same and it took a significant toll on every single one of them. But it especially took a large toll on the Cajun medic. Eugene couldn’t believe it. He refused to. He refused to believe that you weren’t there with them for four days.

Where the fuck were you? That was the thought on everyone’s minds.

Eugene couldn’t comprehend it. It felt like only yesterday that you were there right beside him, making him turn as red as his nose and making his heart pound like a drum.

Memories of you were still fresh on his mind, and they always seemed to taunt him.

He’d think of scenarios of you not being missing and how’d it was all just a big stupid joke or dream. Your face was all he could think about and his heart clenched every time.

It was soul-crushing, and he despised it. Eugene couldn’t focus since the day you were reported gone. Of course, he was fine after a few days, but the feeling of unease and tension grew with each passing moment. It gnawed on him continuously, but he couldn’t stop it.

(E/C) eyes and (H/C) hair was what he only wanted to see. But then he would see those beautiful eyes of yours dull and void of life, your once soft hair then greasy and matted with dried blood. Eugene would wake up in a cold sweat, the beating of his heart deafening him.

Everyone noticed his changed demeanor. Eugene got more cold, a little more distant and stand-offish. His personality mirrored everybody else’s after they got the news. But he was the one that was most affected. That was a fact.

Eugene was spacing off more than what was necessary. He was constantly in a daze and of course slower in his work. It was only when someone was injured that he was moving fast. But even then, he still wasn’t focused.

The spark of life in him was extinguished and that affected his work. He’d sometimes forget what he was doing, causing one of his patients to scream at his ear.

It wasn’t the first time it happened. As the days went by, the more Eugene got caught up with his thoughts on your being.

It caused him to get a nice chat with Winters on why he was acting like this.

“Roe… I know that it just might be nothing, but I noticed that you aren’t the same. Like something’s been bothering you. May I ask why you’re acting like this.”

“Sir, I think you already know of (Y/N) being MIA.”

Winters immediately looked down, as even someone with such authority like him was distraught about you. Winters quickly looked up and cleared his throat, eyes full or sorrow like Gene’s.

Eugene straightened his back and he gripped onto the fabric of his pants.

“Of course… It’s been affecting everyone. I just wish that she was back with us. Do you still believe that she’s alive, Roe?”

“Of course, sir. I’m sure that she’ll turn up. Someday.”

“Maybe, Roe…” Winters nodded towards Eugene with a tight smile. “Dismissed.”

Eugene was being hit with numerous waves of anger, sadness, and worry. All five stages of grief were being experienced at the same time. He walked away, and even if he was supposed to be used to it by now, he couldn’t muster the courage to do so.

Images you being held prisoner and being tortured by the German Army scared him. Then images of you lying on the ground, fresh bullet wound on your head, the crimson liquid running down your face and onto the ground to create a morbid halo flashed afterwards.

Eugene did nothing but drown in his thoughts underneath a tree nearby after that.

-------------------

“Gene?”

“Yes, mon ange?”

“Why do you always call me that?”

“For starters… You are one.”

“One of what?”

“An angel. ‘Mon ange’ means ‘my angel’. I also call you that because… Like I said, I am sure that you are one yourself. I wouldn’t believe you if you said you weren’t.”

The sun beamed down upon the two of you as you sat upon the grassy field. Your eyes were on the lush green trees in the distance, Eugene’s eyes, however, were fixed upon your face. You seemed oblivious to it, fortunately for him.

You smiled and you turned your eyes to meet his, and you reached your (S/C) hands to intertwine with his bigger ones. You turned back to set your gaze on the forest, but the dark-haired man’s look never averted.

“Gene…”

“Hm?”

“You really think that?”

“Of course I do. God forbid the day I stop calling you mon ange.”

You rested your head on his shoulders, as the sun set over the horizon. Eugene tensed up momentarily before he relaxed, taking in your warm presence and happy demeanor. You tightened your hold on his hand and a smile crept on your lips.

“Je t’aime, mon ange…”

“I love you too, Genie.”

------------------

It had been more that a week since any sign of you. Some of the paratroopers had already seemed to have given up hoping for you to magically come back. No one dared to mention you, it was already too much to handle. Some of the privates that you knew couldn’t say your name without tearing up.

Eugene felt like that too, but he was too cold to let anybody see him that way.

Most of Easy Company still held on to their feeble thoughts and dreams however. Eugene was one of them.

He waited for a sign. Any sign. No matter how insignificant or small, he wanted one. He just wanted a sign that reassured him that you were indeed fine and well.

Eugene of course waited patiently for it. His nights were spent praying for you to return to them. Most importantly, to return to him.

By then he would make sure that you would always be by his side. By then he’d also make sure that he won’t take those fleeting moments he spends with you for granted.

Eugene already did that too much and those were one of the many things he regrets. If he ever sees your face again, he’ll make sure to make you his the moment he lays his eyes on you. That was exactly what he was going to do.

For the time being, Eugene and a few of the boys from Easy Company were lazing around in their bunks, and some already sleeping. They were practically waiting for anything. Orders. An attack. Maybe even you returning...

Moments like these passed uneventfully. That was what Eugene always thought. The soft rumbling and muffled sounds of German artillery hitting something didn’t surprise them anymore.

“Why are you all so quiet?”

A familiar annoying voice rang out through the room and most heads turned towards the culprit. Eugene mildly disliked Cobb, he was annoying sure, but he didn’t really do anything to make Eugene’s blood boil. Others ignored him, seemingly thinking that dealing with Cobb just isn’t worth it.

Cobb had a different plan. As soon as he saw that nobody paid attention and answered his question, he opened his mouth and crossed the line that no man in Easy Company has ever dared to step over.

“Are you guys still thinking about (Y/N)?

The air immediately grew stagnant and sour, and the men of Easy turned to face Cobb, who had a very shit-eating grin on his face. Eugene was one of the men who turned to him, and he glared hard at Cobb.

“Oh come on, she’s clearly dead.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Cobb.” George snapped at Cobb, who didn’t seem to listen.

The air was full of tension and every man in the room wanted to throw Cobb into a fucking fire. Eugene then turned away, anger gnawing at his mind. Some of the men were clearly in discomfort, one of them even excusing themselves from the room.

“Just think about it, a girl, like her? She’s clearly gone, I mean she’s been missing for what? A week? Take a look at people who’ve been missin’ for a day. Look where they ended up. They ended up dead.”

“Do you not know when to shut your fucking mouth?”

“Well all of you are really stupid for believing she’s going to come back! She’s fucking dead, get over it. What’s so special about her anyway, huh?”

Liebgott sprung from his seat and walked to stand face to face with Cobb. Eugene begged for Cobb to shut up for once. The dark-haired man narrowed his eyes at Cobb, his lips pursing as he sat tense in his seat.

You didn’t deserve this. You didn’t deserve to disappear and to be talked in this way by a man who had the same brain capacity as fucking rock.

Eugene clenched his fists as he looked down on his lap. It took all of his will to not strangle Cobb right then and there.

Cobb’s pestering voice kept ranging out throughout the room, the men were trying their best to make him stop his bullshit. It was like a buzzing mosquito next to Eugene’s ear, and he wanted it gone.

“(Y/N)’s dead, you fucking idiots. All of Easy Company would be way better without her anywa-”

“Shut up. Shut up!”

Eugene lunged from his chair, the creaking of the wooden air on the cold ground rang throughout the air. But it wasn’t the harsh creaking that made everyone silent. It was the fact that Eugene Roe, the cold medic who kept to himself, snapped. Immediately everyone’s eyes widened as they eyed Eugene.

The Cajun man felt nothing but pure, unfiltered rage as he looked straight into Cobb’s eyes. He couldn’t tell, but Eugene was shaking. His clenched fist raised up in the air to direct itself into Cobb’s jaw.

A sickening crack was heard as Cobb fell into the floor and Eugene only looked in indifference.

Cobb fell down on the floor as he cried out, the eyes of the men in the room only widened further as they looked to each other for any sort of answer as to what came over Eugene.

Everyone knew that you and Eugene were close, rumours were even spreading around that you two were dating, which turned out to be true.

They weren’t anticipating Eugene almost knocking out Cobb though. It was bound to happen, anyway. Eugene couldn’t let you get insulted by Cobb, he didn’t stand up for it. The angry red feeling was intense as it coursed through his entire body as he opened his lips to speak again.

“Do you even hear yourself, you selfish bastard? You only care about yourself and you never take into consideration what's going on, do you? If (Y/N) is dead, so what? She’s still a better soldier and person than you are.”

Cobb sat still as Eugene went on his rant, his hand clenching his aching jaw and head. Eugene was seething beyond recognition and everyone just looked in shock.

“-I don’t get it! How come she gets to die while you stay here with us? How come it isn’t you in her place? How come you’re the one here instead of her?”

Harsh words flew from Eugene’s mouth, each syllable was laced in venom and his accent making each word hurt more. Eugene pointed at Cobb repeatedly as he raised his hands. During his anger-filled speech, the photograph he kept with him fell to the ground.

Eugene fell silent as he went up to pick up the picture. It was a photograph of you. You were smiling with not a care in the world. You were wearing your uniform proudly as you showed off your jump wings to the camera. You were beautiful...

But most importantly, you were still there with him. As reality dropped down upon him like a pile of bricks and he hurriedly shoved the faded photograph into his pocket.

His eyes fell upon a shaken Cobb and his anger was only fueled more. He stood up straighter and his eyebrows furrowed more.

“She deserved it way more than you! (Y/N) didn’t need people talking about her behind her back! (Y/N) didn’t need to be separated from us! So tell me, why on Earth are you not gone, but she is? Give me a good reason!”

Cobb stayed silent as he mumbled angrily under his breath while clutching his jaw, his eyes were narrowed at Eugene who stared back.

“Get the fuck out.”

Immediately Cobb git back on his feet, his hands grabbing the wall for support before stumbling for the door to outside. Cobb threw one last glare at Eugene before opening the door and heading out of the building.

The slam of the door echoed in the building, and heads turned towards the medic. Eugene stood in his spot, eyes glued to the closed door where Cobb had just left.

His chest was still rising up and down heavily, and exasperated breaths were pulled from his mouth. George slowly brought up a hand to go onto Eugene’s shoulder, but Eugene pulled away before he could.

“Eugene?”

“I’m going outside…”

His deep voice was menacing, but they held deep amounts of pure and utter despair. The boys decided to let him go as they saw his state. Heavy footsteps were heard as Eugene walked to the door.

He hesitated for a moment before heading out in the cold, biting air. Eugene gingerly took the photo from his pocket and he held it by his fingertips as he lovingly gazed at your smiling face.

He sat on the debris near the stone building, but it was hidden from sight, giving him time to himself. The medic looked at the photograph with a melancholy expression, another tight smile was brought on his face.

The world was cruel, Eugene knew that, but he never experienced it this hard. The pain from losing a patient or friend in his hands was incomparable to the pain he felt at this moment. The snow fell on the ground, a calm and serene sight. Which was a complete opposite of Eugene.

Soft yet clear sniffles were heard as fresh tears dropped on the snow below. He tried to choke back tears, but they ran down his cold cheeks.

Eugene brought his hands to wipe them away, but they were quickly replaced. His lip quivered and Eugene attempted to stay as quiet as he could. He stifled more cries and whimpers and he leaned his head back.

That photo taunted him.

Your smiling face in the photograph only brought him temporary relief and happiness, but he needed the real you. Eugene loved you so much. Maybe a litte too much.

But you would never know the extent of his love… Your fate was unknown, but his hopes were crushed as soon as those dreaded words left Cobb’s lips.

Eugene Roe, the now dazed and distant medic of Easy Company, has finally broken.

-------------------

-----------------

im not crying i swear-

btw sorry this is shorter than my other fics but i hope you liked what i did! im sorry if it didnt come up the way you would have wanted but hopefully you still enjoy it!

but this request got me fucked up and i sort of wanted to torture myself by writing angst-

anyways thank you sweet anon!😭💕💕

#band of brothers #eugene roe #band of brothers x reader #eugene roe x reader #gene roe x reader #band of brothers fic #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers fanfiction #gene roe #doc roe #band of brothers imagine #eugene roe imagine #doc roe imagine #eugene roe fanfiction #eugene roe oneshot #band of brothers oneshot #hbo war #hbo war fanfiction

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1kook · 6 years ago

Text

rotten

‣Kim Namjoon x (F) Reader

summary⇁ How bold of him to stick his nose where it doesn’t belong, as if his presence alone doesn’t contribute to the distance your father places between the two of you. tags⇁enemies to lovers, strict but caring parents, daddy issues, bodyguard!au if u squint, mafia!au kinda, depictions of fight scenes, attempted molestation (nothing too traumatic), joon’s shady past that I don't even bother explaining lmao, teensy bit of angst, daddy kink, pillow talk, dry humping, unprotected sex, use of the pull-out method wc⇁12.3k !

this fic was....two moch..... also no i don't proofread I'm lazy :/ also ppl on mobile i swear theres a read more I'm srry

Despite your generally mild temper, nothing seemed to rile you up as much as the sight of Kim Namjoon on a Tuesday afternoon, easily breezing by the tight security that had been hassling you for over fifteen minutes now. He’d swept through the room like a spirit, not even a single eyelash batting his way, as they all seemed to be consumed with keeping you out of the bourgeoisie office that sat behind the rich mahogany doors.

Your father’s office, where he had explicitly warned you against visiting since you were a child, too busy to fret over you being in such an environment. Admittedly, it’s a concern many parents in his line of work have, but that doesn’t stop you from fighting tooth and limb every once and a while to come see him. He’d always been adamant that you stay away, desperately trying to isolate you from the terrors that usually came with his career in hopes of giving you the happy childhood you deserved. Despite how sheltered and spoiled he’d raised you, the curiosity that had first nestled its way into your brain as a kid never went away, which is how you find yourself stuck in this situation.

Your eyes flicker over towards Kim Namjoon, casually glancing out the floor to ceiling glass panels that decorate the entire level of your dad’s building as he chomps on a donut, who is not technically the root of your strife, but someone who does play a pretty significant role in worsening your situation.

He was your father’s prized protégé, a man not that much older than you, who had somehow been deemed worthy of being accepted into your very exclusive hierarchy, despite not having any blood connection to the family behind it. In fact, Kim Namjoon hadn’t had any sort of ties to anywhere when your father had first found him, so tragically young and broody after fighting in the underground (and winning) for the third night in a row. He was an oddity, everyone thought, because someone so smart and disgustingly handsome had no place among the heathens your father typically took under his wing.

Unlike you, who strived everyday to finally be allowed into the family business, Kim Namjoon had easily slithered his stuck-up ass in, not necessarily becoming your father’s righthand man, but by the way your father treated him, he might as well have been.

“Let me in,” you calmly breathe, the annoyance that had been caught in your throat doubling as you watch the fucker from the corner of your eye, his lean frame hugged tight by the custom pristine suit your father had gotten him for New Year’s. At your voice, his attention seems to finally snap in your direction, lips quietly munching through the donut as he analyzes your situation.

Your can tell your father’s henchman are growing more and more anxious with every second you linger there, the strict orders from the boss weighing heavily down on them. Though you hadn’t inherited your father’s business—yet, you reminded yourself—you had certainly taken after his stubborn personality. “Sorry, Miss,” the absolute brute flounders, and the way he’s so gentle around you reminds you of the rampant sexism that goes on in this business, which only serves to fuel your anger.

You’re about to spew off some degrading rhetoric about how people like him are only useful for their strength, when a smooth voice beats you to it. “Let her in,” Namjoon orders, and it takes everything in you not to jump when he suddenly appears beside you. Damn, he was good.

Your jaw twitches as you watch him stare down the main guard, until the bigger man averts his gaze, stepping to the side. An awkward pause fills the room, and you should be grateful for Namjoon’s help, but instead, all you can think about is how you shouldn’t have to rely on him of all people for any type of assistance.

He pushes the heavy door open, gesturing for you to step inside. You brush by without so much as a thanks, finally stepping foot inside your father’s office. Said man whirls around with a beaming smile on his face, one that is wiped off by the sight of you. Judging by the fact Kim Namjoon was lingering outside his office, you can more or less take a wild guess that your father was expecting him.

“Sweetie,” your dad startles, jumping out of his leather seat as he rounds the desk on his charge to you. He grasps you by the arms, eyes analyzing over every part of your face for any signs of injury. “What are you doing here?” He interrogates once he’s completed his thorough inspection, eyes flickering back towards the door that Namjoon softly shuts.

“I came to see you,” you say, voice meek and shy as you glance around the office you’ve so rarely visited before. You knew your father’s worries were justified, and the sheer terror that had consumed his face at the sight of you being in such a place fills you with both glee and guilt.

Your father’s lips twitches upwards, only for a brief moment, before he’s schooling his features into the stoic expression he often wears around people he’s about to kill. You guess this is the same. “___, honey,” he exhales, stepping away from you as he adjusts his tie, “you know you’re not supposed to be here.”

Your mouth drop into a frown, and you try to protest. “I get it,” he cuts off, “and I’m flattered you want to visit me.” His words sound too formal and rehearsed, part of you wants to scream. “But you know you’re strictly banned from coming here alone.”

Your lower lip trembles, because you’ve always naturally sought out your father before anyone else, a true princess from the get-go, and to see him push you away like this tears you apart. Before you can give some immature reply to defend yourself, someone else steps in for you.

“If you don’t mind the interruption, sir,” Kim Namjoon says, face perfectly masked from any emotion as he carefully evaluates the situation in the same way your father does. Your father seems just as surprised as you to see him so calmly butt into your very intimate conversation, except he watches Kim Namjoon in awe. On the other hand, all you see is red.

How bold of him to stick his nose where it doesn’t belong, as if his presence alone doesn’t contribute to the distance your father places between the two of you. He probably sees Namjoon as an adopted son, you presume, one he’s always wanted because he’s a thousand times more willing to thrust a boy into the mess that are his work affairs, than to teach his daughter the ways.

You’re so caught up in your mental tirade against Kim Namjoon that you almost don't catch his next words.

“I would not be opposed to escorting Miss ____ between your office and home,” he offers, and you completely gawk at his sudden charity. “Of course, only if you would like me to, sir.” You absolutely would not like him to!

You father, on the other hand, absolutely beams at Namjoon’s proposition, completely impressed by such a noble offering made by his star pupil. His detached expression shifts into an array of emotions, first impressed by Namjoon, before turning to send a softer, fonder gaze your way.

“That won’t be necess-”

“I can always count on you, my boy!” Your father praises, slapping one arm down on Namjoon’s bicep, as the other lurches forward to profusely shake his hand. You don’t doubt this is a regular routine he has stored for whenever Namjoon does anything notable.

His attention soon lands on you, and you’re surprised when he lunges forward to grasp your hands in his, eyes excited in a way you’ve never seen before. “Isn’t that perfect, sweetie? This way, you can come spend time with me without the possibility of danger!”

Truthfully, you know Kim Namjoon’s offer is probably going to save the rocky relationship between you and your father. Namjoon wasn’t your father’s protégé for no reason; he was possibly the strongest fighter your faction had seen in years, though his strength lied beyond his physical capabilities. He was disturbingly intelligent, his ‘street smarts’ extending into professional education as well, both of which became valuable assets applicable to any situation he may encounter.

But the same irritation builds in the back of your throat, so sick and tired of others babying you when you don’t need it. You’re perfectly capable of traveling between here and your house on your own. Screw some glorified bodyguard.

You purse your lips in the most genuine smile you can muster, and huff out an overly cheery, “yup!”

You’d taken the train to come see your father, forgoing the option of one of your many personal driver’s because you knew they’d all refuse to bring you here. However, your father is quick to put Namjoon’s newest task in motion, ushering the two of you out of his office before you can hammer out any details of what exactly this new arrangement will entail.

Kim Namjoon is as mysterious as ever as he leads you towards the elevator, waiting for you to step in first, before sending the two of you into the underground garage parking. You refuse to break the ice inside the elevator, instead taking in his stern reflection on the elevator’s mirrored panels.

Ugh.

He’s unfairly handsome, silvery locks casually brushed aside to perfectly frame the curves of his face. His skin looks pillowy soft, and had you not had a raging hatred for him harbored inside your chest, you would’ve stuttered at the pink tongue that peeks out to glide over his plump lips.

The elevator dings and you follow him across the garage until you reach a sleek Mercedes coupe, the lights automatically flashing on as you step closer to it. Before you can make a move, Namjoon opens the back door, stepping aside to allow you in. You roll your eyes, huffing your way inside the seat as you watch him round the car and settle into the driver’s seat.

As you’re tugging on your seatbelt, his silky voice fills the car. “Which home am I escorting you to today, miss?”

You grit your teeth, pushing the buckle into place with more force than necessary. “My apartment uptown,” you mutter, petulantly crossing your arms over your chest.

For a moment, you catch his brows furrowing in confusion, as he chooses his next words carefully. “You do not wish to be taken to the family home in the suburbs?” He asks, and you roll your eyes at the way he manages to sound just as composed.

“No, I have things to do tonight,” you frown, tugging your phone out to confirm the evening’s plans with your girlfriends. You’re immediately met with a slew of gleeful texts, which you take the time to respond to as Namjoon pulls out of the parking lot. He’s silent for the remainder of the car ride, save for when he asks you for your address. You wrinkle your nose in annoyance as you begrudgingly give it to him, before your attention returns to your buzzing device.

You’d been planning on going out to celebrate your friend’s recent promotion at work, giddy at the thought of finally seeing all your friends for the first time in a few weeks. The plan was to head to the exclusive club downtown, in an area your father had strictly forbade you from visiting. But the rumors were too much for you to ignore, and you finally gave in to your friends’ invitations.

Namjoon pulls up in front of your tall building, though he doesn’t immediately unlock the door for you to get out. He doesn't turn to face you as he informs you, “your father would like for you to visit at least once a week, and had requested that you notify me of any visits at least one day prior.”

You scoff, and tug the handle for him to let you out.

However, it seems Namjoon has more to say. “He is also aware of your plans to sneak into a club on the south side tonight.” Your breath catches in your throat, and you whirl around to catch his steely gaze through the rearview mirror. “He says you are not allowed to go, but,” Namjoon says, and his monotonous tone of voice makes you want to punch him in that beautiful face of his. “If you do decide to go against his rules, just know that there are people there who do not take too kindly to our family, and would not hesitate to let you know as much.”

The door clicks in the background, and you waste no time throwing it open. You glare back at him once more. “You are not part of my family,” you spit.

“Damn!” Jisoo wolf whistles as she watches you step out of the apartment building Namjoon had dropped you off at not even five hours ago. You ignore your friend’s obnoxious catcalls as you hop into the backseat of Sojin’s car, immediately bombarded by the rest of your goofy friends’ exclamations.

“You guys are annoying,” you laugh, buckling your seatbelt just as Sojin speeds off, ignoring the honks from cars around her. “How are we getting in?” You inquire, skipping over any formalities.

Jisoo shrugs, toying with the radio before finally settling on a station she approves of. “Mm, I haven't thought of it yet,” she casually says, and your eyes pop out of their sockets. She knew how nervous to were about tonight, especially since your father had first warned you against going anywhere near this particular district. You’d been hoping she’d made some plans for the group of you to get in.

“Jisoo, don't be mean” Sojin scolds, seemingly set on going as fast as she can without catching the attention of any late night police. “You know how ____’s dad is.”

You’re thankful someone understands, and Jisoo eventually relents, informing you all that she has some connections to the owners of the club, and that you would all be guaranteed access inside. You can finally breathe easy, settling into the backseat conversation as Jisoo continues pestering Sojin; you have no doubt in your mind that she had her own little pregame while getting ready.

It’s not long before the car pulls up in front of the club, you and your girls stepping onto unknown territory for the first time. Or, at least, your first time. The exhilaration that comes with disobeying your father’s rules (real rules, not like the stupid don’t come see me rules) makes you vibrate in place, so giddy and excited that you almost stumble over the curb upon stepping out.

“Chill out,” Sojin laughs, pushing you in the direction of the entrance line, before Jisoo guides you off path, towards where two mammoth bouncers check IDs. You don’t have to worry about any of that, Jisoo simply flashing the two men an innocent smile as they let your group shuffle inside.

The moment the door swings open, you’re hit with the overwhelming aura that comes with almost every nightclub. The same old vulgar vibe that you’ve been mingling with since you’d first become an adult, the raunchy music a familiar tune as you pushed your way through the packed bodies, gliding and pushing against each other.

Despite the pounding acoustics, you don’t miss the low whistle Jisoo lets out as she files closely behind you, dainty fingers gripping your arm. “Check that out,” she shouts, dragging one arm up to point at an absolutely gorgeous man sitting at the bar. He’s stunning, you think, and by the looks of it, everyone else seems to think so as well. His dark hair is fanned over his forehead, brushing over his brows as his eyes scan carefully across the dance floor. For a moment, you think they might’ve landed on you, but judging by the sultry chuckle you hear in your ear, you know the inviting grin he flashes is for the pretty girl behind you. “Well don’t mind if I do,” Jisoo mumbles, slowly slipping away from you to saunter over towards the beautiful man at the bar.

Her departure leaves you by your lonesome, you realize, your friends immediately separating to find their own fun for their night. Just as you resign yourself to babysitting duty (which you don’t really mind), there’s a soft graze against your elbow, making you jump.

“Smells like weed in here,” Mina huffs, button nose wrinkling as she seems to root herself in place beside you. You snort, mindlessly wandering towards the opposite end of the bar as you continue mingling with your friend. “You know, I think my expectations for this place where a little too high,” she sighs, swirling whatever drink she’d ordered in her cup sadly.

“Why? I think it’s nice,” you comment, flagging down the bartender to ask for a stronger drink. You listen to her as she goes on to complain about the club, citing her past experiences in better places to prove her point. You can sort of understand her, her disinterest slowly convincing you that you too have seen better clubs, her arguments becoming more and more convincing with every drink she throws back, you slowly following her example.

Just as she’s whining about the terrible music, her words are suddenly cut short. “Holy fuck,” she gasps, and your eyes follow her gaze, struggling to see whatever has managed to cut your usually chatterbox of a friend off, but all you see are the obnoxiously flashy strobe lights in your eyes.

“What is it?” You ask, squinting into the far side of the club, near the VIP booths, but all you see are people you don’t recognize.

“___,” she whines, doe eyes clouding over with want as she seems to have zeroed in on what is probably her dream man. Suddenly, she snaps to attention, determined eyes locking on yours. “I need to suck his dick.”

Your splutter, hand almost knocking down your drink as she tugs you out of your seat and towards whoever her mystery man might be. “This is a you thing!” You hiss, trying to pull out of her grasp, but the power of a tiny drunk girl seems ridiculously Hulk-like.

“So? What if he likes you?” Your eyes widen. “I would never live with myself if I deprived you of such a fine dick.”

“You don’t even know him! I can’t even see him!” You screech, a sudden lull in the music making your words seem too loud inside the club. Your cheeks flame, though a part of you knows no one is paying you any attention. “Mina,” you whine, shaking her hand off of you to no luck.

She shushes you, and you can finally begin to see the outline of a man as you near the VIP area, the back of a pale head of hair being your apparent target. You huff when Mina finally manages to come to a stop, immediately ripping your hand out of hers. You look every bit the fussy child as you cross your arms over your chest while Mina makes introductions.

“Hi,” she giggles, morphing into the classic erotic succubus as she bends over the back of the couch the man sat on. “I’m Mina, and this is my friend-” you roll your eyes, refusing to look at the gag-worthy exchange, “-and we were hoping you’d let us sit on your cock tonight?”

You choke, whirling around with flaming cheeks and wide eyes, frantically trying to rip a drunk Mina away before she can embarrass the two of you even further. “Mina!” You scold in horror, tugging her away from where she’d been lounging across the back of the couch, desperate to ignore the man she’d been flirting with, until the back of your mind registers a very familiar presence.

“Miss ___,” a deep voice says, and you flinch, blood running cold as you whip your head to catch sight of the same chocolatey eyes that had stared you down through the rearview mirror that afternoon.

Every alarm goes off in your head as you recall Kim Namjoon’s warning, reprimanding yourself for not heeding his words as you stare into his emotionless gaze. “Namjoon,” you flounder, and Mina’s squeals fade into the background as your cheeks flush crimson from being caught in such an uncomfortable position.

His attention briefly breaks away to glance at Mina’s intoxicated being half hanging off of you, half sending him the horniest gaze he’s ever seen. He levels you the most Mona Lisa-esque look, and, just like the painting, you’re unsure if he’s amused or disgusted.

Slowly, he rises from the couch, body clad in an entirely black suit with a matching black button up beneath it. His full height towers over you, despite the heels you’d donned, and you feel small and insignificant under his gaze. He eyes flicker to the couch, and you get the hint, slowly settling down your inebriated friend before turning back to him.

“I warned you, Miss ___,” he says, shoving his lithe fingers deep into his pockets.

Though you’d initially been frazzled by his presence, his condescending tone of voice makes something snap inside of you, your vision melting into red as you step into his space, jabbing a finger into his chest, briefly catching a whiff of his cologne.

“Fuck off,” you seethe, and though you have to crane your head to look him in the eye, your anger does not fade away. “I don’t give a fuck off about what you said, Kim Namjoon. And I don’t give a fuck about what my father has to say about this. As a matter of fact, fuck you and fuck hi-”

Namjoon snatches your palm away from his chest, completely dwarfing it with his own as he tugs you closer to him, steely gaze on yours. “Your father has no idea you are here,” he exhales, the close proximity and the seclusion of the VIP area making it almost unnecessary for him to raise his voice above a murmur. “As far as he knows, you’re safely tucked away in bed right now, Miss ___.”

Your insides are still boiling, but you cannot deny the confusion that washes over you from his response. You’d assumed Namjoon would rat you out the moment you got into Sojin’s car. He was your father’s favorite underling, and, accordingly, his loyalty to your father was unmatched. The fact he had come to retrieve you without so much as notifying your father of your disobedience came as a shock.

Before you can get more lost in your befuddled thoughts you push him away from you, shaking his grip off of you with disgust. He seems unfazed as he watches you fume, your friend almost forgotten. He looks away from you for a second, eyes meeting Mina’s, before she’s suddenly getting up to scamper in the direction of the dance floor.

“Mina!” You call, turning to trail her, but Kim Namjoon stops you with a tight grip on your forearm.

“Miss ___,” he says, voice uncomfortably close, and you can faintly feel his broad form hovering less than a few centimeters behind you. Your breath catches in your throat, his deep timbre enveloping every inch of you. “I suggest you return home before someone else discovers of your disappearance.”

You huff, his unwanted advice pushing you out of whatever trance his presence had trapped you in, and you pull out of his hold for the second time. You face him, trying to hide your breathlessness as you fix him with the most furious expression you can muster.

Kim Namjoon seems as disinterested as ever, meeting your angry gaze with his own. You’re in a stare down then, crossing your arms over your chest to try and shield yourself from his scrutinizing eyes, which seem to be boring into the very core of your being as he waits for you to back down.

Your heart thuds in your ears, every inch of you tight as you struggle to maintain your sturdy facade. But the longer you remain caught in his gaze, the more vulnerable you feel, desperate to conceal yourself from him and his bored expression. Eventually you’re snapping your gaze away, cheeks blazing at the immature loss. “Where’s the car?” You mutter, refusing to look at him again.

Had he not already melted you down with his eyes alone, the soft brush against the small of your back wouldn’t have made you jump as much as it did. You let him guide you towards the club’s exit, making a mental note to make up some excuse for your friends, and hoping they hadn’t seen you leave with Kim Namjoon of all people. God, that would’ve been embarrassing.

Similar to the afternoon’s events, he tugs open the backseat door for you, even helping you stumble inside after watching you uneasily shuffle on your heels. The door falls shut behind you, the driver’s door swinging open not long after.

You try to ignore him as best as you can, focusing your attention on informing your friend’s of your early departure with the smoothest lie you can conjure. Namjoon doesn’t seem to be feeling any sorrow for ruining your night, and for some reason, the embarrassment you’d felt earlier begins creeping into your bones for the second time.

Mina’s shrill voice replays in your head, her vulgar words seemingly on loop. You briefly glance at Namjoon through the rearview mirror, grateful he hadn't said anything about Mina’s inappropriate behavior. You can feel the blood rush to your face, and you quickly avert your gaze out the window, the city’s scenery quickly flashing by in the form of blinding streetlights and concrete buildings.

It’s not long before you draw closer to your towering apartment building, Namjoon’s voice finally filtering into the heavy silence for the first time. “Miss ___, please do not hesitate to call me the next time you wish to visit your father.” You roll your eyes, toying with your purse as you prepare to step out of the vehicle.

He pulls to a stop in front of your building, and the doorman rushes forward to assist you out of the car. You’ve barely stepped one foot out onto the curb when Namjoon calls your name again. You turn back, catching his eyes in the same mirror you’d been viewing him through all day.

You’re surprised to see a rare twinkle in his eyes, as he says, “I hope your friend has better luck tonight.”

Before you can reprimand him for saying such a comment about Mina, the doorman is helping you out, and you’re left a bewildered mess on the sidewalk as he pulls off.

If your father was going to treat you like a child, you were going to act like one. It was only right that you took absolute advantage of Kim Namjoon’s wishes to be an absolute kiss-up to your father, and both men had encouraged you to do as much anyway.

After your first day with Kim Namjoon as your glorified chauffeur/bodyguard, you’d begun calling him for the most mundane of tasks. Truthfully, it was a childish streak inside of you that wanted to diminish the time he spent with your father. (And, maybe, you also wanted to see another glimpse of emotion on that ridiculously gorgeous face of his.)

He’d drove you to and from your family home, even though he knew as well as you did that there were plenty other drivers who's entire job description was exactly that. He hadn’t complained, showing up to your building exactly twenty minutes after any call you made with the backseat door held open for you.

Jennie’s douchebag boyfriend had finally broken up with her one Saturday morning, leaving her a sobbing, lonely mess. You’d called Namjoon up to drive you over at eight in the morning, and he’d shown up right away. You might’ve pulled him away from his breakfast, you theorized, the tiniest fleck of white powder curling around the corner of his plump lips.

You’d called him to drive you to the nail salon and had made him sit in the waiting area for an hour, because you wouldn’t be able to call him afterwards with wet nails, you’d whined. You’d taken great pleasure in seeing his threatening figure nestled among all the other nail care enthusiasts. If he was displeased, he hadn't shown it, taking absolute caution of your nails as he led you back to the car. The only downside to your petty plan was when he’d had to lean over you to buckle your seatbelt for you, his face hovering over your chest so intimately you’d refused to speak on the drive home.

Perhaps the most immature stunt you’d pulled was calling him at two in the morning, ordering him to take you to the gas station for chocolate chip cookies.

Usually Namjoon answered your calls after the first ring, silky voice clear as he asked you where to, not so much as a greeting slipping out. However, on that night you’d almost hung up after the fourth ring, when a raspy voice had suddenly filtered through your speakers.

“Hello?” Kim Namjoon had groaned, and your heart had stopped in your chest as you floundered for a response. There was the shuffling of sheets in the background, and your brain hadn’t kickstarted back up until you heard the delicious pop of his bones as he stretched, you assumed.

“I-I need you,” you’d stuttered out, all traces of the malice that usually tinged your phone calls suddenly whisked out of your system. You realized the horrible phrasing of your words a little too late. There was a pause, as Namjoon let out a half-asleep chuckle that filled your ears as he glanced down at the caller ID.

You could pinpoint the exact moment he realized it was you, the line suddenly going completely silent, only the static of the line present. Suddenly, a harsh cacophony of sounds filled your ear, and you almost dropped your phone as he coughed, before his usual monotone voice filled the line. “Miss ___, where to?”

All signs of the groggy Namjoon were wiped clean, and it was as if you were talking to a completely different person as he patiently awaited your response. Your brain racked for a response, and you begun spluttering the first thing that you could conjure.

“The gas station, I want cookies, like right now, so you better get your ass over here as soon as fucking possible, ASAP,” you rambled, trying to mask your own embarrassment with the annoyed tone you usually took on when speaking to Namjoon. He sent a formal confirmation your way, and you hung up as soon as he told you he’d be over soon.

You’d been planning on changing into something more acceptable by society’s standards, but you ended up pacing pack and forth as you tried to calm yourself before Namjoon’s arrival. In the end, the elevator was halfway to the ground when you belatedly realized you had remained in your ridiculous pink booty shorts and oversized long sleeved t-shirt. You cursed, hoping Namjoon’s tired demeanor meant he wouldn’t step out of the car tonight to follow you like he usually does, and you could slip in and out undetected.

Much to your horror, he was, like always, waiting for you outside the door. Though he looked every bit the stone-hearted mafia member, you couldn’t ignore the softness that curled around his figure, present in the way his eyes were swollen, his hair styled sans gel, and the fact he’d forgone his usual suited attire for a plain black shirt that stretched deliciously over his muscles.

You ducked into the car, refusing to meet his gaze. Even while he drove, you kept your eyes set firmly on your lap or out the window. That vulnerable feeling you’d felt all those weeks ago crept up your spine, and you absolutely hated it, especially when it was caused by none other than Kim Namjoon.

The car slowed to a stop in front of one of those twenty-four hour mini marts, and Namjoon shifted the car into park. “You didn’t specify where exactly, Miss ___. I hope here is fine.”

You nodded, throwing the door open and letting yourself out before he could even unbuckle his own seatbelt. He said nothing as he trailed after you, momentarily losing you inside the artificially lit store, before finding you near the snack aisle.

Your heart thudded in your chest, as your eyes blankly scanned over the shelves. What were you here for again? Your mind was in complete shambles as you tried to ignore the want that grew in the pit of your stomach, pushing it down with other thoughts instead.

You’ve been spoiled since birth by your parents, anything you wanted being placed in the palm of your hand. You could ask for the hottest celebrity to come visit you, and your sneaky father would somehow pull the strings together. You had cars and apartments and clothes that people your age wish they could have. So why was your stupid body craving the emotionless bodyguard—the same one that you feared was tearing your father away from you?

You’re jolted out of your consuming thoughts when a body brushes against you. You immediately move to shift away, only to feel the other person follow your movements. “Alone, sweetheart?” A gruff voice murmurs against your ear, and your body completely stills as you feel calloused hands brush against the sides of your very exposed legs.

Years of self-defense classes trickle down the drain as you become paralyzed with terror, hands clutching at the bag of candies you’d grabbed sometime during your mental spiraling. Your brain faintly clicks into place, though it sounds muddled behind the fear that grips at every part of you, telling you to push yourself away, call for help, something.

Just as your vocal chords finally begin working with you, the awful feeling goes away. You whip around, briefly catching sight of Namjoon’s furious expression as he drags the man planning to defile you out of the mini-mart. You’re frozen in place as you hear their scuffling bodies grow further and further away, until the tiny bell above the entryway gives one final innocent jingle and you’re enveloped in relative silence, the obnoxious overhead music running quietly.

Belatedly, your legs spur you into action, and you drop the plastic bag in favor of rushing out after Namjoon. The cold air whips at your face as you shove the door open, glancing back and forth to no avail; they’re nowhere in sight. However, the sleek automobile is still parked a few meters away from you, so you begin sprinting towards that, past an alleyway where—

You come to a screeching halt, eyes trained on the two bodies tussling in the darkness. You stumble closer, eyes struggling to focus, before finally making out Kim Namjoon’s lean figure towering over the man who’d grabbed you. You gasp when Namjoon’s hand comes barreling into the man’s face, the weaker of the two struggling to fight back, but you’ve heard enough rumors to know what kind of fighter Kim Namjoon is.

His fists move at an inhuman speed, jabbing at any part of the man he can get. Just as your eyes adjust to the darkness, you catch sight of Namjoon’s livid side profile, his silvery locks falling across his eyes as he continues to beat the living shit out of the man beneath him.

You’re not sure if it’s the want to see the entirety of his expression face-to-face, or if it’s the fact that you knew Namjoon would literally kill this man if you let him, that has you rushing to stop him.

“Namjoon!” You shout, footsteps thundering against the gravelly pavement before coming to a halt a meter away, careful of your own safety as you recall the rumors that surround Namjoon; he was a rabid fighter when provoked, which explains why he fought so desperately to maintain his emotions in check at all times. You step closer, wincing after a particularly hard punch that leaves the man wailing in pain, blood spluttering out of his busted lip. There’s a splattering of blood decorating Namjoon’s face and arms, and you can undoubtedly say it’s definitely not his own.

You decide to suck it up and reach for him, part of your childish mind still thinking that hey, if he hurts you, at least he won’t be your father’s favorite anymore.

Your hands shakily settle across his rippling shoulder blades, careful to avoid his elbows as they swing back and forth, fingers gently gliding around until they’re loosely placed around the base of his neck. “Namjoon,” you call out, daringly stepping closer, until your chest is almost pressed against his back.

Up close, his ragged breath sounds animalistic, his chest heaving with each gulp of air he takes. He must be at least somewhat aware of your presence, because his arms slow down until he’s just grasping the man by the collar, and you gag at the sight of the bloodied face of your attacker.

“Hey,” you say, finally slotting your body against his, fingers softly dancing over his skin. “Let go of him, Joon,” you murmur, the nickname absentmindedly slipping through your lips as you continue pressing your fingers into the tight muscle. You become more emboldened when the man goes slack in his grip, and you lift one hand up to tilt Namjoon’s wild gaze away from him.

“Look, look,” you say, turning his chin until his wide, unstable eyes are on your own. “I’m okay, Namjoon,” you hum, using the hand not preoccupied holding his chin to slide down his arm, pressing down with a lot of force, until Namjoon lets go of the man. “It’s okay,” you add, trying to repeat the same process with his other hand.

"I-,” Namjoon chokes out, body tensing beneath your touch when the man lets out a low groan, blood dribbling out of his lips. “He touched you,” he seethes, and though his face is pointed your way, his eyes are flickering to the side, desperately trying to see his punching bag. Namjoon’s own lower lip trembles with rage, and you have to run a palm down the side of his face, quietly shushing him.

“I know, I know, but look,” you urge, stroking his cheek until his wild eyes finally meet yours. “I’m okay, it’s oka-”

“It’s not!” Namjoon roars, turning back to shove your assailant against the brick wall of the mini mart. You immediately try to tug him back to you and your terrible attempts at calming him. “He’s not allowed to fucking touch you!”

“Joon, calm down,” you beg, instinctively locking your arms around your neck, throwing any reservations about your own safety out the window, your attention solely focused on making sure Namjoon doesn’t kill this man behind your local family mini mart.

Though he’s blinded by his own emotions, he’s still aware of your presence, and the fact you’re his boss’s kid probably. Namjoon pauses, watching the battered man slowly sink down to the ground, one of his split knuckles coming to clutch at the trembling forearm you’ve strapped across his chest.

“I have to kill him,” he grits out, fingers squeezing around your arm gently compared to the absolute brute strength he'd used to drag the guy out of the mart a mere five minutes ago. You tighten your grip, struggling to keep your toes on the floor as he attempts to shrug you off.

“Let’s go,” you huff, mustering up the strength to yank him backwards, the two of you flying into the opposite wall of the cramped alleyway. Your back hits the brick first, and you yelp in shock, the sound seeming to catch Namjoon’s attention and he whirls around, eyes wide and frantic as he analyzes your expressions. His worry intensifies as he becomes desperate to assure himself he hadn't hurt you.

“Joonie,” you pant, taking this opportunity to finally reach the logical part of him, cupping his face in your hands, forehead pressing together. His nickname slips past your lips without much thought, and his wild gaze finally calms down at your soft voice, slowly turning into long, drawn out blinks. “Let’s go,” you whisper, and he nods, eyes finally falling shut, lashes gently fluttering against his skin.

It’s a weird feeling to finally be in the driver’s seat of the Mercedes, Namjoon silently sitting in the passenger seat. You fix the rear view mirror, pressing down on the gas, as you shift the car into drive, pulling away from the scene.

The drive back to your apartment is mostly silent after you tell him you’re going to clean him up. Other than that, it’s awkward, you nervously drumming your fingers along the steering wheel as Namjoon seems to be staring blankly out the windshield. You don’t bother to make conversation, not really sure how to bring up the overwhelmed Namjoon of ten minutes ago to the emotionless one of now. His knuckles are swollen, the skin pinched around his rings, and resting on his knees.

You’ve been forcing Namjoon to drive you around for so long, the path to your building’s underground parking garage seems unfamiliar to you as you pull into a parking space. You shuffle out of the car wordlessly, taking the elevator all the way up to your floor in the same practiced silence that’s plagued you since the events behind the mart.

It’s not long until you’re letting him into your spacious apartment, gesturing towards the couch as you scamper off for the first aid kit shoved into your bathroom cabinets. When you return, Namjoon has yet to sit down.

“Sit down,” you order, and he does. You kneel down before him, taking his battered hands into yours as you give them a brief inspection, before reaching for the wet rag you’d brought down.

If it stings, Namjoon doesn’t say anything, letting you wipe the dried blood off his skin. The fact it’s not even his makes you want to gag, but you suppress the feeling as you push through your job, dutifully tracing the rag along his veins. Tugging his rings off is where the real struggle comes, his minuscule winces making you hesitant to pinch his skin any further.

“Let me,” he says, jiggling a ring back and forth, loosening it up until he can somewhat pop it off his finger without too much pain. You kneel back and watch him remove his collection of jewelry.

He’s ignored your gaze since the moment you stepped out of the elevator, and you duck your head just the slightest in a cliche attempt to look him in the eye. “You didn’t have to do that,” you murmur, toying with the rag in your hands.

He snorts, and you startle at such a blatant display of emotion from Kim Namjoon. “I should’ve killed the fucker,” he mutters, tossing his rings onto the couch beside him without much care.

You take his hands in yours again, trailing the cloth between his long fingers silently. Every now and then, his fingers will involuntarily curl up, and he’ll exhale harshly through his nose. You presume it’s him trying to suppress the carnal anger that builds up at the memory.

In an attempt to lighten the mood, you give up a wise crack. “Well now I can confirm you’re not an emotionless robot,” you joke, though you quickly shut up when he doesn’t reciprocate your goofy smile. You purse your lips, hurrying through one hand before moving onto the next, his fingers involuntarily curling around yours. Your heart thunders.

Just as you’re calming your racing heart, Namjoon says, “your father is going to be so disappointed in me.”

Your jaw tenses, your movements pausing as the words register in your mind. Before you can completely blow up about it, you spit out a curt response. “He won't be. You’re his perfect little protégé.”

“Doesn’t mean he can’t be disappointed in me,” Namjoon retorts, and you roll your eyes, the anger and jealousy that had been the root cause of your and Namjoon’s servant-like relationship taking refuge in the back of your throat.

“He literally won’t be,” you huff, too worried about how disgusted your father will be when he learns of your weakness, and how he’ll use your inability to fight back as a leverage, citing it as another reason why you can’t be around the family business. “He’ll be sooo fucking proud you saved me,” you croak, your heart wrenching with sadness.

Namjoon says nothing.

You wipe his hands clean and apply the antiseptic quickly, your throat constricting with every passing second as you imagine the utter disgust that will certainly cross your father’s features when Namjoon informs him of tonight’s incident. Your fingers tremble as you carefully wrap his knuckles with a thin bandage, eyes growing wetter with each loop around his hand.

When you finally finish, it’s taking everything in you to hold back the flood of tears threatening your waterline, and you’re hoping Namjoon will simply thank you before disappearing off into the night.

You don’t want Kim Namjoon, of all people, to see you cry.

“All done,” you murmur, patting the back of his hands as you rise to your feet. You shuffle to return the items into the kit, lazily tossing the bloodstained towel on top of the closed box afterwards.

His hand catches your wrist. “Why do you hate me?” Namjoon asks, and it’s the first time he hasn’t spoken so formally around you, addressing you so casually. You inhale a shaky breath, a resigned smile plastering itself across your face, though it doesn’t reach your eyes.

“You have the one thing I actually want,” you admit, shaking your head at his confused expression. Now that you’ve seen Namjoon act like a normal human being, or, as normal as watching him nearly kill a man can be, the idea of him being some distantly stoic figure feels weird to think about. You sigh, placing the first aid kit on the coffee table.

“I just wanna be close to my dad,” you huff, your words caught on a whimper that you bite back. You press the heels of your palms against your eyes, shoulders trembling with the sobs you fight to contain. “I’d do anything to spend time with him,” you choke out, rubbing at your eyes until you’re seeing stars, “but all he ever wants is to see you.”

A pitiful sob escapes your lips, and you don’t even bother feeling embarrassed in front of Kim Namjoon anymore. The feelings of uselessness you’d harbored for so long that they’d manifested into a raging jealousy release themselves into the silence of your apartment. You cry and Namjoon watches you.

There’s a hand pressing into your shoulder after a few moments, and you wipe the fat tears away and look off somewhere to the side.

“I didn’t know,” Namjoon murmurs, and you give an ugly sniffle in response. His hand drops from your frame to scratch at the back of his neck.

You scoff, whirling around to narrow your teary eyes at him. “Of course you fucking didn’t, you were too busy kissing his ass every chance you got,” you spit, and Namjoon’s eyes blow out into saucers.

“I was just doing my job,” he defends, the sympathetic aura he’d held quickly fading into a more defensive one.

“Oh really?” You exclaim, not backing away when he stands from his perch on the couch, towering over you as you continue your onslaught. “Was your job being a fucking show off? Or was it purposefully making me look like a little bitch in front of my father?”

Namjoon steps into your space, grasping your wrists in his hands to stop your explosive way of talking. “You need to calm do-”

You cackle, fists clenched against his grip. “That’s real funny coming from you, Namjoon,” you mock, and his jaw twitches, a brief spark of that animalistic side of him listing his eyes before he’s tightening his hands around your skin. “Unlike you, I actually know how to control myself.”

“I just wanted to save you tonight,” he fumes, looking so indescribably wrong inside your apartment. Had it been the regular Kim Namjoon with his perfectly styled hair and schooled expressions, maybe you would have not questioned his presence.

But this Namjoon is completely unknown. He’s bold and strong in a way only young men can be, his temper as untamed as his silvery locks that fall out of place, tickling his forehead. He’s normal, you guess, but admitting as much feels weird.

“So you can go tell my dad about it?” You spit, desperately shaking your hands out of his grip to no avail. “Admit it, Namjoon, if it was any other girl you wouldn’t have batted an eye, because you only care about yourself and your dumb ass reputation to—”

Your back meets the cushioned seats of the couch, wrangled there by Namjoon’s own strength as he presses you down onto it. He towers over you, radiating pure, unadulterated anger as he stares you down. “You’re right, I fucking wouldn’t have,” he seethes, and you huff and growl as you struggle to pry your hands out of his hold for the nth time, before he eventually settles on pinning them beside your head in irritation.

“But since it was your little princess ass, I fucking have to,” he growls, and you faintly register the knee he presses between your legs as you glare up at him. “Miss ‘I get everything I want because my daddy’s rich,’” he mocks, voice raising into an obnoxious imitation of what you must sound like.

You scoff, thrashing beneath him. He pays you no attention, continuing to taunt you. “’I want to help him at work, but I can’t even defend myself against the weakest of strangers,’” he teases, and you keep squirming against him, only fueling his efforts. “You’re such a fucking bitch,” he spits, and you flinch under his gaze. “Is there anything you actually can do?”

Your anger is rolling off of you in waves, but as you move again, his knee brushes against your most sensitive of parts, and a horrifying whimper escapes from your throat.

You immediately freeze, desperately wracking your brain for some sort of excuse, but the annoyed grunts and growls you’d been releasing sound nothing like the absolutely vulgar noise that had crawled out from between your lips, and by the way Namjoon’s furious expression melts off his face, you know he’s also realized this.

You try to search your brain for how exactly this had happened. The heat that had been boiling inside of you—the absolute rage you’d been feeling—hadn’t actually been anger? Exactly when did your body decide now was as good as ever to feel like this?

For a moment, your apartment is silent. The only sound you hear is the rushing of blood in your ears, lips pressed together as you fight down the inevitable flush that decorates your face. Maybe if you hadn’t been so focused on controlling your breathing you might have taken advantage of the brief moment in which Namjoon had loosened his grip on you.

“Listen,” you huff, tongue running over your lips. You try to ignore the way Namjoon’s clouded gaze glances down at them. “I’m still in a lot of shock from all that happened tonight and—” your words are cut short when Namjoon’s leg purposefully brushes against your core, another high-pitched whine ripping itself out of your throat.

Namjoon snorts.

“So that’s what this is about,” he says, his looming figure somehow ten times more dangerous than before. You feel yourself grow incredibly small beneath him, even more so when he ducks down until your faces are close, the tip of his nose brushing against yours.

“All this time, were you waiting for this, Miss ___?” He murmurs, his breath hot against your face. You say nothing, the muscles of your thighs clenched tight as you try to remain as still as possible. He presses a kiss to your cheekbone, and the simple gesture has you releasing a breath you hadn’t known you’ve been holding. “I need an answer.”

“N-No,” you cry out, turning your head away from him, though you desperately want to feel that witty tongue against your folds. That same stuck-up ego of yours tries to remind you, you hate Kim Namjoon, but to no avail.

Namjoon smiles, the curves of his sinfully plush lips pressed against your jaw, giving a teasing squeeze to your weak hands. “Miss ___, I didn’t take you to be such a liar,” he breathes, kissing along your jaw and down your neck. Your sharp inhale pierces through the air, and your traitorous body has your legs tightening around his waist. The deep chuckle that leaves him has every part of you vibrating, eyes fluttering shut beneath the delicious feel of his mouth.

“Stop being a little bitch and let me take care of you,” he reprimands, voice soft yet authoritative as leans closer, your chests brushing together. You bite your tongue too late, a pitiful whine leaving your lips. Namjoon lets out another soft huff of laughter around your neck, pausing his languid kisses.

“I’m not a-a little bitch,” you weakly defend, trembling beneath him as he licks at a particularly sensitive spot on your neck.

“Of course you aren't, Miss ___,” he agrees, though you feel he only does it to placate you. “But you must be so tired. Always trying to win your pop’s attention,” he sighs, and lifts his head up to level you with a heated gaze. You feel your lower lip tremble. He leans in, soft lips brushing against yours in a short kiss. “But you can have all of mine, princess,” he promises, gently nipping at your lip, enough to have your back arching into his solid chest. “I know I’m not your daddy but—”

You unexpectedly whine at his wording, and Namjoon grins against your mouth, swallowing the sound. He pulls off with a lewd pop. “Unless you want me to be, of course,” he propositions, and you don’t know what comes over you as you furiously nod your head. “Perfect,” he praises, one hand finally releasing you to trace down your body instead, his ridiculously large palm gliding over your thigh, hitching it higher up his waist. “Will you let me, princess?”

“Yes,” you breathe, your trembling hand stretching forward to wrap around his neck, forcefully pulling him closer to you.

“Yes... what?” Namjoon tests, letting you manhandle him into another desperate kiss, and you wonder if your arousal has seeped through the fabric of those thin booty shorts.

“Yes, daddy,” you say back, and the wicked grin is the last thing you feel before he’s looping his hands beneath you and tugging you into his lap. A tiny shriek leaves your lips, before you settle onto your new seat.

Any traces of Namjoon’s smile are wiped clean as he stares up at you, fingers digging into your waist. “You’ve been really naughty tonight, princess,” he calmly says, and though you’re on top of him, you still feel like you’re below him. “Calling me in the middle of the night to come get you— what was that little thing you said to me on the phone again?”

Your cheeks tinge as you recall the words you’d uttered to him over the phone. Granted you hadn’t meant them in that way, it was somewhat relieving to know he’d been effected by them. “I need you,” you repeat in that same timid voice that had spoken to him earlier in the night.

Namjoon lets out a low whistle at your words, basking in the embarrassment that swallows you. “How bold of you,” he says in a quiet voice, fingers gripping harder into you, pushing you down onto his cock, hardened beneath his jeans. You gasp, hands digging into his shoulders in surprise.

“I wanna make you cum so bad,” he sighs, guiding you through the same motion again. “But, I was so fucking pissed off at you tonight,” he informs you, and your heart clenches at the irritated glance he shoots you. “Calling me in the middle of the night to get a pack of fucking gummy bears. Who do you think you are?”

“I’m sorry, daddy,” you gasp, letting him haul you onto his clothed dick again.

“Did you want my attention that bad?” He asks. “Well you have it now.” His hands slowly release you, and you whine back arching as you rut into him again. He leans back into the comfort of the couch cushions, arms casually slung across the back as he watches you. “I know you’re already so spoiled , so why don't you actually work for something for once?” He suggests, and your mind blanks as you struggle to figure out what he means. “Get yourself off for me, princess,” he commands, watching you through hooded eyes.

You whine, lower lip drawing to a pout as you realize he’s really waiting for you, eyes flickering off to the side in a bored manner.

Pushing any last traces of self-respect aside, you dig your fingers into his shoulders once more, slowly grinding yourself against him until all the humiliation is replaced with pleasure, your panties caught against your wetness. “Daddy,” you cry out, pleased to feel his cock plumping up beneath you.

Your movements grow short and stilted as you carry on, rutting against him like an animal. Your eyes squeeze shut, because the foggy haze of euphoria isn't completely enough to ignore the sneering expression he wears as he watches your desperate form. “Look at you,” he murmurs, almost in awe.

There’s a soft brush against your side, and you flinch before realizing it’s his hand, pushing the oversized shirt up until his bandaged fingers rest against the soft skin over your ribcage. “Need more, daddy,” you whimper, your lower abdomen starting to ache from all the movement.

“Nuh uh,” Namjoon teases, though his hands continue to pet you. “You’ve become so selfish, princess,” he says, leaning forward to nip at your jaw. Your breath catches in your throat at the gesture. “But I promise, once you do this, I’ll take care of you for the rest of the night.”

The idea seems all too agreeable, and with a renewed vigor, you begin your wild thrusting against him. The rough denim of his jeans brushes the undersides of your thighs, and you’re suddenly aware how close you’ve come to your orgasm. A moan catches in your throat when you feel a finger brush the underside of your bra cups, Namjoon’s cold hands tracing over the soft flesh of your stomach. “That’s it,” he encourages, voice low as he watches you move your hips back and forth, the speed picking up as your orgasm draws closer.

It hits you embarrassingly quickly, your back arching as Namjoon’s soft hands hold onto your sides. There’s a sudden bloom of wetness across your panties, soaking through until even your shorts become tinged with your cum. Your words catch in your throat, cheeks blazing as you catch his eye.

Namjoon smirks, cupping your jaw in his hands to draw you in for another steamy kiss. This time, his tongue licks into your mouth, the wet appendage reaching into the warmth as you struggle to catch your breath. That humiliating orgasm lingers in the back of your mind.

“You worked so hard,” Namjoon praises, and you melt into his embrace when you feel a stray finger press against your core, dancing along the stained material of your shorts. “I’m sorry,” he suddenly says, and your heart stops at the sudden apology, uncharacteristic of Namjoon. “I would stretch you out but my fingers are too nasty to be inside of my princess.” The scalding feel of his finger against you leaves as he raises his hand to brandish his bandaged fingers, his digits wiggling as if to emphasize their appearance.

You grimace, and he laughs at your reaction. “Can you take me like this?” He asks, and you bite your lip as you consider it. Truthfully, you hadn’t had sex in a while, so you were undoubtedly tight down there. But then again, you had just orgasmed, and naturally your body became more relaxed after such strenuous activity.

“I think I can,” you murmur, your voice dripping with hesitation that he quickly kisses away.

“You don’t have to if you don't want to,” he assures, his voice almost back to the normal Kim Namjoon you’d been seeing for the past few weeks. “But I’m serious about taking care of you, princess,” he adds, softly.

With those words and a newly found resolve, you push away any doubts and shake your head at his new offer. “No, fuck me, please,” you nearly beg, nudging his nose with your own as you search for a kiss from those sinful lips. “I want you to, daddy.”

Namjoon placates you with one brief peck, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you into him. “Good girl,” he exhales, relief tainting every syllable that leaves his mouth as he holds you in his embrace. “Gonna fuck you so good,” he promises, his head deliciously nuzzled between your breasts. “But I need you to take off these cute little shorts first.”

He runs a finger along the elastic of your shorts, letting it snap back to your skin with a loud thwack. You flinch, Namjoon’s large palms soothingly rubbing over the curve of your ass, palming the two globes with much appreciation. His hands dip into your backside, pushing the garment off as he encourages you to rise to your knees. With a little struggle, he manages to tug those horrid shorts off of you, leaving you in a pair of cheeky lace panties, the pale blue considerably darker where your arousal had leaked through earlier.

“You’ve become so dirty,” Namjoon scolds, using the least damaged of his two hands to trail one finger over the beginning of your womanhood, teasingly pressing over where he knows your clitoris is hiding. You keen, tugging your large shirt up higher in an effort to see what he’s doing. His fingers twitch as he presses them over your saturated undergarments, as if he were wishing he could do more but is prohibited by the state of his hands. Just as you’d thought, he utters out a strained, “fuck.”

“Daddy, need you inside of me,” you pant, your hips unconsciously jolting into his fingers. He nods, pressing a hand into your shoulder to move you away as he undoes his belt buckle. Anticipation catches in your chest as you watch his every move, nimble fingers tugging his belt through the metal buckle before he’s popping open the button of his jeans. An unconscious moan slips past your lips when he pulls them down to reveal his simple grey underwear, pulled taut around his erection.

He flashes you one final grin before he’s letting his cock spring free, the flaming tip smacking against the planes of his stomach. Your thighs quiver at the sight, but Namjoon doesn’t let you ogle him for long. He pulls you into his chest, and you cry out when you feel his cock brush against your core, hands burying themselves in his unruly hair.

“Promise I’ll be gentle,” he murmurs against your jaw, grabbing onto the base of his cock with one hand while you twist your arm backwards to tug your underwear to the side. Realistically, you know he can't be as gentle as he wishes, especially because you haven’t been stretched out properly. But you’re so caught up in the idea of finally resolving this unspoken of sexual tension that you don’t mind the pain that’s destined to come.

His head pushes against your throbbing opening, and you can’t believe it’s actually possible to feel your heartbeat through your pussy, but here you are. You gasp, every part of you tightening as his head pops through that initial tight ring of muscle. Namjoon, for the first time, shows you how effected he is with a low moan. “So tight,” he chokes out, that stupid smile still adorning his features.

The absolute girth of his cock has tears welling in your eyes, and you squeeze them shut in an attempt to push them away, your lip caught between your teeth hard enough to dry blood. Namjoon soothes you with kisses along your jawline, his hand rubbing soothing circles along your hip. “You’re doing so good for me, princess,” he murmurs, and takes advantage of the moan that rips out of you by shoving further into you.

You scream when your knees give out, and you end up falling down onto the rest of his cock, back arching when his tip brushes against your cervix. Namjoon groans in unison at your sudden movement, and for a moment, the room goes quiet.

“Shit,” Namjoon huffs, the end of his voice tinged with laughter. Your body is slowly pulling itself out from the sudden shock, spine going numb. Namjoon reaches out to catch you, laying you against his chest. “Good girl,” he praises, “daddy couldn’t ask for anyone better.”

Your pussy clenches at his words, and sensing this, Namjoon slowly grinds upwards into you. You whimper, still sensitive from that weak orgasm from earlier. “Gonna fuck you now, princess,” he informs you. “Want me to lay you down or are you good like this?”

It takes a second for you to realize he’s asked you something, and you belatedly murmur, “lay down,” against his neck.

Namjoon wastes no time, hauling you off the couch in his arms, fingers pressed into the backs of your thighs. He whirls around, carefully depositing you on the soft cushion. Each movement has him shifting inside of you, and you can feel your breaths become more and more labored by the time he finally covers you with his body, one hand pressing your leg against the couch beside you.

The first official thrust has you wantonly moaning like a porn star, and you shove a hand over your mouth in embarrassment. “Daddy,” you whimper, gluing the heel of your foot to the base of his spine as you try to push him in deeper.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Namjoon says, tugging your hand away from your mouth only to replace it with his lips. “We’re just getting started.”

Before you can say anything in response, he’s ramming his cock into you again, the sheer strength of his movements shifting you up the couch. You cry out, tangling your hands around his neck in an effort to anchor yourself to him. Despite you believing he was just starting off strong, he sets a similar pace to that thrust, his hips snapping into you with lethal force.

“Fuck,” you sob, lips pressed against his temple as he continues his ministrations. He’s set a sort of pattern, you notice after a while, every few thrusts topped off with a lewd grind of his core against yours, your clitoris very much enjoying that little addition of his. “Faster, daddy, please,” you pant, arching into him as he pushes against you.

Your walls convulse, your second orgasm drawing embarrassingly near, but it’s Kim Namjoon doing this, so what can you expect?

“Look at you,” Namjoon huffs in amusement, slowing his movements until he’s shallowly thrusting into you, reveling in the way you whine for more. “So stuck-up and bitchy, getting your tight little pussy fucked by me, of all people,” he sneers, biting against your shoulder.

“Sh-Shut the fuck up,” you breathe, hips pushing forward to meet his, desperately urging him to pick up his pace again.

Namjoon snorts. “Don’t tell me what to do, ___,” he spits, pulling nearly all the way out, only his swollen head inside, just to slam back into you. You moan when your vision goes blurry for a second. “Look at the snobby little princess,” he mocks, fingers gripping into your hips tightly, “getting fucked like a little bitch.”

“If you don’t shut the fuck up, Namjoon,” you groan, digging your nails into his shoulder as a warning.

Namjoon reaches his good hand down to toy with your swollen bud, and you hiss. “Sorry, who are you talking to?”

“I-I’m serious, Namj—”

He gives your clit a delicious little squeeze, your words cut off by a mewl. “Who?” He repeats, pushing the bundle of nerves back and forth between his fingers, mouth licking along the sensitive spot beneath your ear. “Weren’t you supposed to call me something else tonight?” He bites down on your skin, hard enough to bruise, but you suppose that was his intention anyway. When you don’t answer, he pulls away, that teasing gaze of his locked on yours.

“Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten,” Namjoon murmurs, his hips rocking into yours. You whine, teeth clenching with every shift. “Just say it now and I’ll make you cum right away, princess.”

“Fuck you,” you spit, the residual hurt from his mocking words from earlier leaving without much of a doubt.

Luckily, Namjoon doesn’t seem too offended, those plush lips of his tugging into a lopsided smirk. “Already am,” he murmurs, and you watch him shift from playful to animalistic, his hips picking up that same arduous pace from earlier.

You don’t say much between the two of you after that, his attention zeroing in on your throbbing pussy walls as he rams into you like a dog in heat, your high-pitched whines and mewls filling the night air, occasionally accompanied by the low grunts that leave his mouth every time you clench around his length.

You can feel the burn of his cock against your abused pussy, every drag leaving a burning feeling. You begin blabbering nonsense, a trait uncharacteristic of you, as your orgasm draws nearer. When you think back on it, you’re not exactly sure what you’d said, and Namjoon hadn’t dwelled on your incoherent thoughts either.

Truthfully, this whole night with Namjoon had been humiliating. Arousing, but undeniably humiliating. He’d revealed new aspects of you that you’d never known of, had reduced you to a sobbing mess multiple times, and then had even had the balls to mock you while his cock was buried deep inside of you. It only makes sense that your orgasm is the same, the burning heat finally brimming over the edge disgustingly prematurely, your walls spasming around him with a loud, “daddy” falling from your lips.

“Fuck,” Namjoon grunts, his hips only seeming to pick up their already brutal pace as you coat his dick with your arousal, body quickly falling lax beneath him. His hips slap against yours, and the feeling has your already sensitive body quivering.

“Come on, daddy,” you breathlessly murmur, trailing a hand down the side of his face, before pulling him into a languid kiss. It’s the first one you’ve been in command of, slotting your mouths together before slipping your tongue past those plump lips that have had you hypnotized all night.

Namjoon grows restless, and you swallow every little sound he makes, before he’s hastily pulling out of you, giving his swollen cock a few harsh pulls before shooting across your open legs. Another curse slips through his lips, his member softening in his grip.

For a few moments, your body seems completely okay with the idea of falling asleep right then and there, your vision going hazy as you stare up at Namjoon’s towering figure. Namjoon doesn’t seem to agree though, and your heart jumps into your throat when he pulls his shirt over his head, his never before seen body coming into view. Before you can get too excited though, he’s dragging the cloth along your thighs and between your legs, and you cry out from oversensitivity.

“Shh, I’ve got you,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee, dutifully cleaning you off before tossing his soiled clothing somewhere onto the ground. Your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of his large palms running alongside your thighs, his voice lulling you to sleep. “Where’s your room, princess?”

Your own voice comes out sleepily, giving him the most basic directions you can remember. There’s a pleasant buzzing in your chest when he gently picks you up, but the rest of your memories become fuzzy after he tucks you into bed.

Your phone rings a little past noon, and you groggily reach out for it, swiping the answer button cross the screen. Your father’s voice greets you in a panicked frenzy.

“Sweetie, I know you were supposed to drop by right now, but none of us can get a hold of that damn kid,” he rushes, his silence not actually silent as it fills the receiver with the bustling sounds of his office. “As soon as I get my hands on him, I’m gonna kill him.”

You yawn, running a hand over your eyes as you glance at the time. “It’s fine,” you murmur, “I gave Namjoon the day off.”

Your father chokes. “You did what? Honey, I know he’s technically working under you right now, but you can’t do that, especially not with one of my most prized pupi-”

“Bye, dad,” you drawl, hanging up before he can get another word in. You toss your phone off to the side, rolling over in your bed until your body bumps into another one, soft and warm, muscles delicious beneath your fingers. You rearrange their limbs until their arms are wrapped around you, your nose pressed against his neck.

Namjoon snorts, tightening his grip around you. “Spoiled as fuck.”

#thekpopnetwork #kpopwonderlandtag #kim namjoon #knj #namjoon smut #rm smut #rm #bts namjoon #bts rm #bts rap monster #bts knj #knj smut #bts smut #mine #this was way too fuckin long rip

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augusts-random-writing · 5 years ago

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Stars are Created Every 0.0002 Second-Chapter 1

Hi! this is chapter 1 one of my celebrity!AU. srry if this is bad. Thanks to @that-smol-tired-gay for editing this who totally isn’t putting this in themselves while editing shhhhh

Trigger warnings(pls tell me if i missed any): cursing, mentions of sexualization, aphobia, enbyphobia, internalized aphobia and enbyphobia, crying, panic attackish, coming out, caps lock, yelling, love confession(?), sympathetic deceit (Dolios), anger/revenge?

pairings: one sided roceit, platonic roceit, analogical mention

Stop, pose, smile. Stop, pose, smile. Stop, pose, smile. Stop, pose, smile. That’s what my life has become. When I became famous, I didn’t know that stopping, posing, and smiling would what I mostly do. That and being oversexualized. I have to fight just to get a break or just to write what I want for songs or just to say what I want to say. It’s exhausting, I wish I never became famous. But before I could quit, I meet my friends:

Virgil Savage, a famous author that writes whatever he feels like. But, he mainly writes horror, mystery, and romance. One look at him and you can tell that he listens to My Chemical Romance (but don’t we all). Tonight he is sporting a black and purple tux with someone on his arm.

And that someone is none other than Logan Flores-Martìnez, an actor, screenwriter, and director. His most popular works are usually when he adapts Virgil’s work the big screen (and that's how the two of them meet). On a typical day, he wears a polo shirt with a tie. Tonight, he is wearing a dark blue and black tux matching his boyfriend. Honestly, they look like a high-class goth couple.

Next to them is someone who doesn’t really fit the whole theme but at the same time does is Dolios Carter. He is wearing a yellow dress with black flowers. He is a youtuber and he usually makes conspiracy theories, random theories, make up, let’s plays, and other similar things. He usually wears some kind of flower/snake print thing with black or yellow.

Someone who definitely fits in with everything is Patton Anand, who is wearing a black suit that has light blue flowers on it. He is also a youtuber; he usually does arts & crafts, baking, cooking, and sometimes let’s plays. His usual wear is black with a few bright accents. Basically the opposite of Dolios.

Me? Well, I’m in a velvet red suit. That’s it. Nothing special. Yet, I still get the most attention. All of my other friends have so many things going on and I have nothing. Like, Virgil is in the middle of writing a new book, him and Logan are getting fucking married soon, Patton is going to be acting in a new movie, Dolios is writing a book too. But no, I’m the one they talk about, take pictures of, ask questions. Like the fuck? Honestly, I just want to be home. I just finished my tour, I’m exhausted and I miss my cats. And my reptiles. And cake. I miss them and my hoodies. I just wanna--

“Roman!” I turn, looking for whoever called me. I turn and come face-to-face with Dolios.

“Hey, Dolios. Whatcha doing?”

“I need to talk to you.” Uh oh. That’s never, especially since he looks so serious.

“Okay, where do you want to go?” I say as we pose for another picture. Dolios seems a little tense and keeps fidgeting. I am getting nervous, why does he want to talk to me? Did I do something? Is he mad at me?

“Roman?” I heard Dolios say. Of course, I should have said “yes,” but my dumbass didn’t. I just fucking stared at him. Like. A. Dumbass. “Roman? Anybody in there? Hello?” Dolios said as he waved his hand in front of my face.

“Hmm?” I respond. WHY ROMAN? JUST FUCKING ANSWER HIM WITH WORDS!

“Can we go somewhere more private?” He looks around like he’s about to get attacked.

“Uh okay.” I answered, not really liking where this was going. Like, what is he gonna do? And why the fuck is he being so suspicous of it?

Dolios takes us into a private room, where people usually…………..um…………………get kinky. We go in and sit on one of the velvet couches, that we hope are clean. We sit there awkwardly, as one does.

“So, I need to tell you that….” Dolios started, basically wincing, “...that I’m in love with you.” Oh no. Not this.

“I…...can’t De, I’m so sorry. Maybe if I wasn’t broken.” I say, trying not to cry. I wish I wasn’t so broken. I wish I could be normal but I’m not.

“What do you mean? You’re not broken.”

Just like that, I broke down.

“You don’t understand! I’m asexual and aromantic! I’M BROKEN, A MONSTER! I JUST WANT ATTENTION, I’M NOT VALID!” why can’t he get into that thick head of his!? I’m broken. “I mean, I know I should be proud of myself, but I just can’t. And I’m- I’m non-binary. It makes sense, right? I never felt fully comfortable being called male, but didn’t know why. Who am I kidding right? I’m just a special snowflake, right? RIGHT?” Dolios moved closer and started hugging me.

“Its okay, its okay. You gonna be okay. You are valid and I platonically love you for being so strong. Even when people told you were invalid, you stayed strong. I love you for that. But you don’t have to care that weight alone anyway, okay?”

“Okay,” he just really just sat through my sob story, and now I’m basically in his lap calming down from a breakdown. But, it still doesn’t really help. Everyone tells me one thing, that I’m invalid, and he just comes along to say otherwise?! No one does that! He must be lying.

“I’m not lying Roman.” I said that out loud. Of course. “What are your preferred pronouns and do you have a different name?”

“My pronou- My pronouns are they/them. I don’t- I don’t want to change my name.”

“Okay, why don’t you calm down some more and we can go back out, okay?” Not wanting to say anything, I just nodded.

“Please don’t tell anyone about this.”

Dolios’ face darkened, “I won’t, I promise.”

We stayed there until I calmed down enough and we went out to the party. However, Dolios looked upset or just off once we left. I brushed it off though, we had bigger things to worry about; and that was the press.

++++++

When my fans first talked about how I always dragged society, I joked along with them. It was a funny, harmless. off-handed joke.

But now, it’s not. Society crushed my best friend. Again and again and again, with no mercy. Now, this is war. And I’m not playing by society's rules.

Taglist:(if you want to be added, please send an asks to this blog)

@datfearlessfangirl

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dreammutual-remade · 7 years ago

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high school!mark

request: highschool!mark if u love me plspls

word count: 5.5k

a/n: lucky that I love u anon hehehehe !!!!! also wOW I didnt mean to make this so god damn long itS REALLY JUST THESE GOD DAMN HIGH SCHOOL AUS IM WEAK FOR THEM OKAY. look at this cutie hOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO RESIST

mark, renjun, jeno, donghyuck, jaemin, chenle, jisung

warnings: the usual intermittent cussing and probably an inappropriate joke or two

this au is my Ultimate Weakness it makes me soft as hell alright

………………….

LETS DIVE IN

okay so your mom has a job that forces your family to move around….. A LOT

and while you’ve gotten used to it for the most part it still sucks having to leave people behind and make completely new friends once every couple of years

this time you’re moving to a new school for your SENIOR YEAR and you’re livid

bc like ??? it’s senior year and you have exactly zero (0) friends since you’re new,,, yet again

you Threw A Fit when you found out but your mom was like shut up you ingrate soon you’ll be in college and won’t even have to worry about it

so you, an ingrate, shut up :/

you move in a month before school starts and the house is nice and your room is cute so that’s a plus !!!!!

you hang up some pictures and organize all your cute little trinkets you’ve collected over the years aw

you’ve even got a lil succulent garden growing on your windowsill

ITS CUTE AS HELL OKAY

alright so you’re gonna go explore around town because you , don’t know where anything is and you wanna find some good spots to hang

you take the bus into the middle of town because who tf is tryna drive themselves amirite ladies

support ur local bus driver

anywhom this isn’t a HUGE town but it’s one of those cute towns where you can pretty much walk anywhere you need to go

(god i wish that were me)

so you spend all day just, walkin

you find a library and pick up some books …….

both for decoration and reading okay

and you find a couple of restaurants and write them down to try later along with some coffee shops and whatnot

eventually you’re tired and prolly a lil sweaty bc it’s summer and you’re outside and ugh

so you find a nice big park and a tree and sit down at the base of it to read and mindlessly sketch things in the margins of your book

whEN OUT OF NOWHERE

someone shouts

“HEY WATCH OUT”

and you look up just in time to dodge a sOCCER BALL HURTLING TOWARDS YOUR FACE

it bounces off the tree and rolls a couple feet away

“uhhhh holy shit” - you

you just kind of sit there astonished for 5 seconds before you get up to get the ball and look around for who saved your LIFE

and there’s boy jogging toward you looking extremely embarrassed

you meet him halfway to hand him the ball and he’s like

“oh mY GOD i’m so sorry i told them to settle down but they never listen to me and jisung just ??? doesn’t know how to not take everything seriously and he lost and got pissed and kicked it and we didn’t even kNOW you were over here and also i’m so sorry”

you smile and tell him it’s fine and hand him the ball

you go to get back to your tree and he’s like hey uh you there uh wait up

god he’s awkward

and you turn around to face him with an expectant look

“so um, what’s your name? i haven’t seen you around here before and like in case i ever gotta make this up to you you know ??”

cute

you tell him your name and stick out your hand to shake and he grabs it very hesitantly and tells you his name is mark

he has , very warm hands and they’re only slightly bigger than yours but that’s still cUTE

MARK HAS BABY HANDS I DARE U TO SAY HE DOESNT

he says he hopes you enjoy your book and he’ll make sure the boys don’t disturb you anymore than they already have

you wave as he goes and he gives you a smile over his shoulder and his cheeks are tinged pink and wOw this boy is a cutie patootie

you go back to your reading but now instead of doodling you’re just writing his name or drawing his big doe eyes or his smooth hands

(((((let’s pretend we’re all good at drawing okay god knows i can’t do much more than a stick figure)))))

the boys leave after an hour or two and you leave pretty soon after then because the sun is setting and you gotta be home for dinner

basically your mom wants to make sure you aren’t kidnapped and/or lost in a new town

which, to be fair, is not that unlikely

you have your headphones in and you’re leaned against the bus window half asleep as you go

bitch wake up youRE GONNA MISS YOUR STOP

it’s the same bus driver who saw you get on and honestly there aren’t a lot of people on the bus so he makes sure you get off

“hey you, girl back there, hEY! this is your stop girly”

you thank him profusely and tip him because uhhhh u gotta get home and like Not Lost

you skip home with your bag of books and miscellaneous items you found at the thrift store!!!

you bought a little figurine of a dragon and she’s beautiful her name is saraphina because why not

that’s completely irrelevant i’m so sorry

i have ADHD

anywhom

you walk in and you’re all like hey momma !!! how goes it !!:3

and your mom is Sus™️ because why are you in such a good mood

and you’re like !!! cause i had a good day okay love u bye i’m going to my rOOM

don’t let her question anymore or else she’ll dig out that you met a Cute Boy

you go to your room and get out all your purchases and organize them while you still have the motivation to do so

and yeah

you use one of the blank notes to start like a lil drawing diary of sorts ???? like just to draw stuff in whenever you’re inspired or you see something pretty

and you definitely saw smth pretty today ;))))))))

hint: ITS MARK

you try to draw him from memory but it doesn’t look quite right and like :(((((( how sad is that what if you don’t even see him again

the rest of the month passes pretty quickly in the same fashion

by now you’ve befriended the bus driver and he tells you all the cool secret nooks and crannies of town for you to go find

he’s also your bff pretty much he always tells you about his daughter and all the cute things she does and you just talk about your life in general and he gives you advice

congrats you’ve unlocked Wise Uncle

he gives you directions to this teeny TINY flower shop where you befriend the old lady who works there by bringing a muffin everytime you go by

she trades you for a seasonal flower and makes a big deal out of tucking it behind your ear herself

basically you find all the cute old people in town and make them your friend because.

THATS CUTE

ADDED BONUS OF LIKE 17 PARENT FIGURES TO GIVE YOU ADVICE

this is accidentally straying into art hoe territory i hope y’all are okay w/ that

school is starting really soon and you’re nervous but also used to this so it doesn’t affect you as bad as normally

also you did meet some people so you aren’t going in with no friends but like, pretty close to no friends

on the first day of school you ride the bus and you see ???? mark ????? on your bus ????????

so you get on and do your daily greeting of the bus driver

his daughter lost her first tooth AW

you fake cry and he says “mood” and you lose it because you’re pushing internet culture onto this unsuspecting middle aged man skdkdkkd

you pat him on the shoulder as you walk back to find a seat but there are none because for some reason the bus is busy this early in the morning ????

you wouldn’t know lmao summer sleep schedule had you up at 10 at the earliest

so you go to stand and hold onto one of the poles in the center

(nearby our boy mark LEE)

mark looks up from his phone

these god damn millennials always on that damn phone

and he sees you and he’s like wHOA what’s up uhhh Soccer Ball Girl

and nice you remembered his name bUT HE DIDNT REMEMBER YOURS

but then he’s like nahhhh just kidding i remember ur name hey y/n !!!

you talk otw to school and find out you’re both seniors at the same school and how you’re excited for sports games and like, GRADUATING

mark keeps trying to offer you his seat but you refuse and he pouts everytime you say no :((((

good god just take the seat look at the sad baby boy :((((((((((((

there is an, occurrence

at one point the bus goes over a bump and you stumble a little and mark reaches up to catch you before you literally fall on him

his hands fly out and grab you by the hips to steady you since he’s sitting and you’re standing and he can’t exactly reach your shoulders sO YEA

or at least that’s his explanation in his head huehuehuehe

his hands linger for MAYBE 10 seconds before he whips them back into his pockets and blushes while you thank him

you: are also blushing

the bus driver: completely did that on purpose

when you get off the bus your Second Dad tells you good luck and pats you on the head and mark is like ???? do you know him

and you’re like yeah that’s my man maurice we’re buds

and he’s like ???? i’ve rode that bus all my life to school and i’m not buds with him wtf :/

“srry you’re not as lovable as me!! jealousy is a disease <3”

and he laughs his dorky laugh

you highkey are smiling so big because this boy is so cute and he’s walking close enough that your shoulders brush every once in a while and he has a silly laugh and AW

as you walk into the school marks group of Boys starts waving him over excitedly and he turns in their direction but then stops when he sees you aren’t following

“hey whatcha doin???”

“well uhhh those are Your Boys you know and i’m, i don’t, really, uh they don’t know me”

“aw cmon they’ll love you!!! look ill just introduce you and if they’re terrible and annoying you can leave”

“........ i gue-“

but he’s already grabbed your hand and is pulling you over to them

“sup fellas this is y/n and she just moved here this year so don’t be too overwhelming.”

the smaller one with the highish voice chimes in

“aww but overwhelming is my only setting”

“then just don’t be yourself, chenle”

“heYYY it’s that girl i almost killed in the park !!! so sorry about that by the way”

he introduces them to you one by one and they all shake your hand

jisung is the one with the big ass yaoi hands and also the one who almost ended your young life

jaemin is the one with pretty smile

jeno is the one with the squishy eyes

renjun is the Art Hoe of the group you can just tell

he’s wearing some got damn overalls you gotta befriend him immediately

donghyuck is the one with beautiful skin and a v high voice you’re highkey like hey but can you dROP THE SKINCARE ROUTINE and he’s like “i just wash my face every day xoxo :*”

you quickly learn who is a piece of shit and who isn’t

you figure out who has classes with you and then set off for the day !!

mark has gym and economics with you but those are after lunch :(((

he squeezes your shoulder before he leaves and says good luck though so you’ll survive

you have art with renjun first and this boy is your bestie already

he’s such a sarcastic shit and he too likes drawing random things and vandalizing school textbooks with artistically correct memes

he also has the AUDACITY

“so, you and mark already ;););)(;);)))”

“i uh don’t know what you mean by that”

“you SO do!!!!! you guys walked into school together everyone probably already thinks you’re a thing”

“oh shit really??? ah i feel so bad”

“is that a bad thing???”

“i mean yeah i’m not tryna Tarnish mark’s reputation”

“that is some self hatred bs he would be lucky to have you !!!!”

“renjun you don’t even know me that well yet”

“i know enOUGH”

you just uhh change the subject which renjun def notices but like

who cares

renjun apparently also goes to the same flower shop as you !!!

you find out because you see him drawing the front of it and you’re like heY i’ve been there my girl edna works there !!!!! she insist i call her grandma tho

and he’s all oh sHIT that’s my girl too !!!!!!

long story short edna is now your shared grandmother

now THAT is some uwu shit

you go about your day and it’s lunchtime and yOU uh don’t know where to sit :(

you see a girl that you met who works at the little coffee shop you like so you set off in her direction and you’re almost there when jeno and jaemin walk up and sling an arm around your shoulder from either side

“hEY BUDDY” -jeno

“SUP SQUIRT” -jaemin

and they start steering you in another direction towards their own table

“god of all nicknames you had to give me sQUIRT”

“yes it’s because you’re cute and small like squirtle”

“that’s a god damn reach if i’ve ever seen one but okay”

you get there and they practically TOSS you into the seat next to mark

he winces and gives you and apologetic pat on the back before starting the conversation

“alright so who actually did the summer reading”

as the table bursts into Absolute Ruckus you just kind of sit back and watch

mark notices you being quiet and while renjun and chenle are arm wrestling he leans over to quietly be like

“hey you doin okay over there? are they too much”

“oh not at all i’m just takin it in lmao”

“yeah that’s understandable. they’re easily the most entertaining group of people you’ll ever meet but also i’ve wanted to strangle every single one of them at least once”

“what are you 30??? you talk about them like you’re their mom”

“i mean someone’s gotta do it”

you and mark talk all throughout lunch and head to gym together since that’s next

exercising right after eating ??? sounds like a GREAT plan thanks so much public school system !!!!

you go to pull out your bag of gym clothes but ??? all you’ve got is shorts ?????

S H I T

you start whining because you’re like aWW i’m gonna get in trouble :(((((

and he’s like here i have like 12 shirts in here because i always bring too many and then leave some when i got soccer practice i gotchu

(he gives you the clean shirt that hasn’t been sitting in his locker <3333 what a guy)

you thank him proFUSELY and then go to the girls locker room to change

the shirt is too big and you don’t wanna look like a Bag so you tie a lil knot in it in the front

you don’t look like a thot tho you just look Cute As Fuck

some girl in the locker room lets you borrow a hair tie and off we go !!!

it’s the first day so everyone literally just stretches and sits around talking

you’ve hashtag LOST mark and you don’t have any friends yet so you’re just chillin talking to the girl who gave you a hair tie because she seems nice and you got nothin better to do

you’re explaining to her how to take care of a succulent /properly/ when mark catches a basketball that was headed right for you yelling a watch it !!!! over his shoulder

he turns to you and giggles a little, nudging your foot with his

“you’re just a danger magnet aren’t you”

“i mean danger is my middle name so”

“uGH get your ass over here away from all those freshman hoodlums who think they can play”

you wave bye to your friend because there’s literal fear in her eyes at the sight of mark ??

you ask her what’s wrong later and she’s like oh it’s not him i just have a crippling fear of boys

(that’s a mood)

you and mark pass a volleyball back and forth and fuck around pretty much all period

this is actually the one (1) sport he isn’t good at thank GOD you were worried he had no flaws

at the end of the class you ask him if he wants his shirt back and he says, and i quote,

“nah you and your thot knot can keep it, looks cuter on you anyways”

you smack his arm for calling you a thot but then thank him anyways for the shirt and for calling you cute :))))))))

econ passes the same way except normal clothing and no sports

although mark does throw a wadded up piece of paper on you that says u want 2 hang w the boys n me after school ? if yes then breathe if no do a backflip

this headass boy

you throw it back so it bounces off his forehead and then nod to confirm you will

you don’t have any of the boys in your last class and you don’t where to meet up so you just kind of loiter by your locker since jeno’s is pretty close to yours and maybe they’ll meet here ????

luckily jisung spots you and is like hey what r u doin here aren’t u hanging with us after school??? cmon

you follow him out to the parking lot where they’re all gathered around jeno and jaemins vehicles because apparently they’re the only ones with actual cars

rip

they start waving too excitedly when they see you and mark smiles all big

wooOOO baby boy already has a crush on you :3

they’ve apparently already decided to go to chenles house because apparently he’s fuckin loaded

you don’t believe that for a sECOND because he’s wearing crocs and an old ass polo shirt but

we’ll see

you mark and renjun ride with jaemin while the Babies ride with jeno since he is able to ignore them being crackheads in the backseat and drive his vehicle without crashing

apparently they’ve cause multiple vehicular accidents ??? possibly the reason renjun doesn’t have a car ???????

who knows

y’all have a blast in jaemins car tho playing tokyo drift from the third fast and furious movie if u haven’t heard that shit plEASE GO LISTEN WHAT A SONG HEHEHHEHHEHE

you pull into this BIG ASS house and you’re like no fucking way dude

and everyone else in the car simultaneously says

“i know right ???”

y’all pull in and go inside and it’s real nice holy SHIT

chenle comes in cackling followed closely be jisung and more sedately by jeno who looks ready to fckin die

you pat him on the shoulder and go you did well, soldier

he salutes solemnly before breaking out into the smile

y’all know the one

you UWU right there on the spot but hold yourself back from poking his cheek and cooing

chenle then SCREECHES and yells

“WHO IS TRYNA PLAY JUST DANCE”

and everyone crowds into his living room

somehow the couch is big enough to fit all of you comfortably that’s fckin impressive

you play just dance for 3 whole ass hours and now you’re Tired and Ready To Go Home

there’s a bus stop nearby and you insist upon walking since jaemin already have you a ride here and you didn’t even have gas money to give him :(((

mark goes to since you have to catch the same bus

you hum as you skip around the sidewalk and he walks behind you smiling fondly while you twirl around

he recognizes the song and whistles along and wow !!!!

Harmony™️

when you get to the stop you’re like 5 mins early

so to entertain yourselves you play rock paper scissors and each time the winner gets to flick the loser on the forehead

mark is a sweet boy so he flicks softly but you go all out

wouldn’t be surprised if he had a bruise tmrw girly u need to chill

you sit on the bus together when it arrives since there’s actually room now and he slumps down low until his head is pretty much rested on your shoulder

(our man maurice sees and is like GET IT GIRL but only so you notice and you make threatening hand motions at him)

you’re not sure if he’s asleep so you stay extra still just in case

and no one needs to know you rested your cheek on top of his head

but when it gets to your stop you’re like mark? mark lee??? mork ???? wake up ??? and you nudge him a little with your shoulder and he sits up and rubs his eyes aW

he slow blinks at you and goes

“hm?”

and you’re like i uh gotta go now

and he’s like :/// okay i’ll see you tomorrow and stands up and gives you a half hug before you go

maurice is DYING in the front you’re going to kill him

you walk home with a smile on your face and again your mom is suspicious of your good mood but you’re like aw it’s nothin just had a good day at school made lots of friends !!!!!!

as summer turns into fall you make more friends but you mostly hang out with the boys because they’re funny and nice to you and also Mark is there and we love our boy

you guys all attend football games together and go absolutely ALL OUT for whatever the theme is

for example: the theme was halloween and you all dressed as god damn SMURFS

it was legendary there was not one bit of you all that wasn’t covered in blue paint

jisung almost fought some girl who thought he was from the movie Avatar until everyone was like jisung cHILL OUT ITS NOT HER FAULT YOURE VERY TALL AND COMPLETELY BLUE

and well

can’t argue with that

it gets chillier though so you all bring blankets and cuddle most of the games

all of the boys suspiciously aren’t cold at first until you and mark share a blanket

they’re so obvious GOD

with each time y’all share you get more relaxed around each other until eventually mark has one arm slung around you and your legs are hooked over one of his thighs while y’all Snuggle

renjun waggles his eyebrows at you every five minutes and you discreetly give him the finger every time

little ASSHOLE

college applications are due like. right now

you all apply to a nice university close by as a backup/safe place and then apply to more brazy places just to see if you can get in

everyone’s been real stressed lately so you’re like !!!!! hey imma throw a friendsgiving party !!! yeehaw !!!!!!!!!

and you invite all of them over

“everyone bring smth and i’ll bake a ham or smth,,, i swear to GOD if all of you show up with store-bought pumpkin pie. i will kill you and then myself”

“what’s with you and pumpkin pie?”

“jUST. don’t”

((((srry i’m projecting my hatred of pumpkin pie onto u reader heheehehheh))))

everyone comes over and it’s really chilly so you have a fire in the fireplace and you have a couple of your gal pals over too

your mom is nice enough to leave y’all alone for the night and she’s not hurt since it’s not real thanksgiving

we stan moms

you bring out the ham and someone has brought green beans and mark ,,,, tHAT ANGEL he brought cornbread stuffing do y’all know what i’m talking abt

OOO THAT STUFF IS GOOD

and there’s sweet potatoes and apple pie and all the Thanksgiving Essentials

jisung wanted to be a dick so he brought cranberry jelly

“why don’t you have some:) cranberry preserves:) , jisung” -you, every 30 seconds

everyone sits down to eat and it’s LOUD so you’re like shut UP !!!!!!!!!!

“every1 say smth ur thankful for :3333”

“my family !!!!”

“you guys <3”

“awW BOOO” - everyone, while throwing things at jaemin

“my life !!”

“that i’m happy”

“gay” -chenle

“minecraft”

anyways no one took it seriously until it got to mark

“i’m grateful y/n moved here :))))))”

everyone goes KSKDDIDI and you blush and you’re like okay ily mark JSKKD

everyone EATS A LOT and then you go sit in a pile in the living room

you go to make hot chocolate for everyone and when you come back it’s , interesting how there’s only room for you next to mark . hm

you pass out the hot chocolate and everyone reaches Maximum Sleepytime

at this point you’re too tired to give a fuck and you just flop onto the couch next to mark and curl up into his side

he puts his arm around you to pull you close and this mf presses a tiny barely there kiss to your temple

you look up and like talk with your eyes

did u just

i did

yeah

and then you just settle back down

it’s too crowded in here for any Moves to be Made

bUT YALL BEST BELIEVE WHEN ALL THESE YOUNGINS GET OUT UR HOUSE

you’ve got the karate kid on bc ??? who doesn’t love the karate kid and all of your cutie friends are asleep in various places

but once it gets super late you start waking people up and going hey i love you but your mom called mine like 8 times you gotta gO

you make sure everyone is awake fully if they’re driving and to text you when they got home safe

at long last

you’re alone

in your house

with mark

actually where is mark

mark has disappeared ?????

you start looking around for him and find him in your room ???

“you snoopin thru my things ??!?!??”

he jumps and is like uHH but you’re like nah you’re fine idc

so he continues and he was really just lookin at what kind of books you have and the little drawings and paintings and knick knacks everywhere

you just sit on your bed and observe him

let’s be real he’s nice to look at and you’d be perfectly fine doing this for uhhh the rest of your life

he pulls a book off your shelf and starts flipping through it until he pauses at a page

and his face blooms into this big smile and he looks hella giddy

and you’re like uhh hey whatcha lookin at there bud

and he just keep smiling and it’s a little smug now wtf

“when were you reading this?”

“oh uh i don’t know i got it this summer at that cute little bookshop”

“was it, by chance, the day we met?”

“i mean maybe??? why ????”

and he shows you the page and it’s tHAT oNE WHERE YOU WERE DOODLING BITS OF HIM AND WRITING HIS NAME ALL OVER IT

FUCK !!!!!!!

you immediately turn tomato red and snatch the book in to hold it tightly to your chest

“uhhh i do that with uhhhh eVerYONE I MEET”

“aw i thought i was special:((((”

he’s creeping closer to you this whole time until he’s INCHES AWAY

he gently pulls the book out of your hands and places it aside before grabbing your wrists and uncrossing your arms

“personally, i think it’s really cute”

you blush even more this man knows what he’s doing

you mumble a thanks with your eyes trained on his fuzzy socks what a dork

he releases one of your wrists to push your chin up so he can look you in the eyes

“do you really do that with everyone you meet?”

“,,,,,,, no it’s just you”

“alright cool”

and then he wraps his arms around your waist to pull you close til you’re pressed together chest to chest AW

he nudges his nose against yours and you close your eyes because your god daMN HEART IS POUNDING AND YOU CANT LOOK DIRECTLY INTO THOSE BIG PUPPY EYES

he presses the sweetest and gentlest of kisses to each cheek and then to the top of your nose

he presses one last lingering kiss on your forehead before he tilts his chin down to press your lips together

it’s so soft and innocent wow i’m going to SHED TEARS WRITING THIS

and he pulls away and you press your face into his neck in embarrassment

he chuckles a lil and rubs your back, leaning his cheek against your head

“hey, you down there”

you say “yeah?” but your voice is muffled by his neck and it’s more like eh ???

“my girlfriend y/n will you be ???”

what the fuck

you pull your head back so you can look at his face which is turning steadily redder

“uh what”

“shIT uh i meant will you uh bemygirlfriend”

your confused expression turns into a shit eating grin and you’re like

“what was that :)))) i didn’t hear you :)))))”

he groans and rests his forehead on your shoulder and pitifully whines out

“please be my girlfriend :(((((“

you pick his face up and hold it between your palms and he pouts playfully

“well how could i say no to that face”

and you smooch him right on those lil pouted lips

“yes i’ll be your girlfriend”

he smiles real big and smooshes you against him aw

wow so now you’re mark lee’s gf

LUCKY BITCH

lowkey you get a few threats but as soon as mark catches wind of that he stands on the statue in front of the school and announces that if anyone has a problem with you they’ve got a problem with him !!!!

and he looks like: ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ

you drag him down while apologizing to everyone in the general vicinity

mark is. veRY CLINGY NOW

i mean no complaints here it’s just

wow

you’ll be standing at your locker when BAM mark is wrapped around you from behind and you get a hey baby how’s ur day right in your ear

in gym class he restrains himself since the coaches are always like LEE KEEP YOUR HANDS TO YOURSELF

but he always whines after and is like

:((((( but you look so cute in my shirt i wanna squish you

whenever mark comes over you force him to let you draw him at least once

each time it gets easier since you’ve started to memorize the details of his face and the knuckles of his hands and the shape of his shoulders

a lot of times he just comes over to watch movies and talk

he’s not an eloquent guy

(“you all look like pretty grass :)))” - mark lee)

but he gets what he needs to say out and he enjoys listening to you talk about whatever’s on your mind

you’ve started a glow in the dark star sticker collection to put on your ceiling and each time he comes over you put a constellation up there

so you’ll lay in bed and turn off the lights and just stare at the ceiling and try to name them all

soon you’ll just get sleepy though and press your face into his chest

he uwu’s every time :((((

after he’s done being astonished by his Baby™️ he’ll wrap his arms around you and stroke a hand up and down your spine wow

Real Relaxation Hours

your mom will come home and find y’all asleep and then SHE uwu’s and it’s just one big cute MESS

he loves to kiss you right as he’s leaving like he’ll lay one on you then RUN to the bus stop

p.s. maurice is on y’all every day saying he called it AY

his other favorite kisses are when he catches you off guard and just turns you around and kisses you and you’re like

I’m Confused But I Like This

lots of sweet pecks throughout the day and then longer slower stuff when you’re home and alone and relaxing

leaves hickeys on your neck literally just to be annoying

it’s oKAY THO DONT TELL HIM YOU LIKE IT

months pass and youve said your first “i love you’s” to each other and renjun is always like so when y’all gettin married huh

you both SMACK him simultaneously

but lowkey you would marry mark he’s the best and you love him so wHY NOT

but it’s early and you know that and you’re happy with what you have now :))))))

pls love and support our hardworking baby mark lee he is doing his best and i love him goodnight

763 notes · View notes

woildismyerster · 6 years ago

Note

hiya! love your writing, but i need more marwan fics!! would you be able to write a oneshot where y/n is friends with the mathletes but marwan is like awkward and blunt around her and she thinks it’s cause he hates her but it’s actually that opposite?? thanks hon!! xo

“That’s not right,” you said, glancing up from your phone. “The third problem, I mean.”

At the front of the room, Marwan paused. He looked back at you, then at the series of math problems he was solving on the board, and scowled. “No, it isn’t.”

“It is,” you insisted, and the other Mathletes scanned the problem too.

After a second, Tyler made a sound of realization. “She’s right, dude. You got the math right, but didn’t add ‘c.’”

Marwan scowled, but corrected the mistake. “Why is she even here? This is a Mathletes practice.”

“Because I wanted to hang out with my boys,” you said, eyes on your phone again. “If they’re in Mathletes practice, I’m in Mathletes practice.”

“If you joined the team, it would make more sense,” he griped.

Kevin slung an arm around your shoulders. “You don’t need to join to hang,” he promised. “You’re the mascot. And what a mascot you are, babe.”

You laughed. “Besides, I’m here for you guys. Not for the math.”

“Then don’t correct my work.”

“Then don’t mess up your work,” you snapped back. “But if you really want to get problems wrong, be my guest.”

The room fell silent, aside from the squeak of the whiteboard marker. After a pause, without turning around, Marwan broke the tension. “Do the rest of them look right?”

The three of you okayed the problem set. Marwan only thanked the boys directly, but he shot a quick, curt nod your way. You had to fight back a scowl, but it was victory enough.

“Kev?”

“Yeah?”

You bit your lip, hating that you were about to ask, but feeling like you ought to. “Should I stop crashing at your practices? Like, is that inappropriate?”

“No, why?” Kevin had been brainstorming a rap for the creative aspect of some presentation, but he dropped the notebook to pay better attention to you.

“Marwan -”

“Oh,” Kevin said knowingly. “Is my boy giving you grief?”

You snorted. “No - well, yes, but I hardly care.”

“Then why are you asking?”

“Because if it’s an actual problem, I don’t want it to become a big thing.” There was always something with Marwan, at least when you were around. You weren’t a member of the Mathletes, so you shouldn’t be at practices. Of course you liked that book/movie/song; everybody did - how predictable.

“Marwan likes you,” Kevin assured you.

“He doesn’t act like it.”

“He’s got the social skills of those aliens in Galaxy Quest. He also has the loyalty of them.”

You gave a half smile at that. “If only he had the charm.”

Kevin laughed. “He does when you aren’t there. He just doesn’t know what to do with you.”

You didn’t really believe Kevin about Marwan liking you, but you decided to keep going to Mathletes practice. That was his problem - you wouldn’t stop hanging out with people who did enjoy your company because of one person who didn’t.

Y/N: pro-tip: making a sign that says “I’ll take you to your limit if you show me your end behavior” does not go over well with parents at your competitions

Marwan: you didnt

Y/N: look over here

Kevin: turn around and show my parents. theyll love it

Marwan: jesus christ Y/N. we cant take you anywhere

Y/N:

You weren’t that picky about homeroom t-shirts - you would hardly wear it, and it wasn’t like you felt all that attached to yours - but you would die before letting the winning design have SWAG written on the back.

Yours would have to be better.

Everybody in the class had been given a paper with the outline of a shirt on it, and all of you were supposed to spend homeroom brainstorming class shirts. It was stupid, it was a waste of time, and you threw yourself into in wholeheartedly.

“I heard that Cunningham’s class is putting his face on their shirts, Andy Warhol style,” you commented to nobody in particular.

It seemed, of course, that Marwan was the only person to have heard. “Probably because the girls all have crushes on him.”

“Maybe,” you admitted. “I would wear a shirt with his face on it.”

Marwan rolled his eyes, writing your graduation year on his shirt design. “Of course you would.”

“He’s funny, and he’s smart. That’s the best combination.”

“Not because he’s attractive?”

You shrugged. “It doesn’t hurt.”

A girl near you agreed, and you shot a triumphant look at Marwan.

“There are plenty of smart, funny guys that don’t get put on shirts,” he countered. “You can’t blame me for thinking that was the entire point.”

“And you can’t assume that I’ll have the exact same thought process as every other person!” You grabbed a colored pencil and started coloring, perhaps more violently than necessary. “You and I hang out all the time, and regardless of what you think of me, you should know that I’m a little less shallow than that.”

“Sorry,” he said softly.

The rest of the period passed with neither of you talking, but it only made you angrier. There was nothing wrong with thinking someone was attractive enough to be on a shirt. You felt no shame about that. That being said, you wouldn’t wear a shirt if you didn’t like the person on it. How low was his opinion of you?

“Y/N, your shirt -”

“What?” You snarled the word, and there was a second of intense satisfaction when his eyes widened.

“I just - I wanted to tell you that it was a nice design. I’d vote for it.”

“Oh.” You grimaced, more at yourself than at him. “I - thanks.”

“Marwan, I need immediate help, and you are the only person who I can ask,” you said seriously.

Startled, he pocketed his phone. “What is it?”

“Should I wear my reindeer pajamas for Pajama Day, or the pumpkin ones?”

Marwan had looked ready to leap into action, which was commendable, but now his shoulders drooped and brow furrowed. “I thought this was an emergency.”

You snorted. “It is, dummy. This is probably the most serious decision I’ll make in my entire life.”

“It’s November. Neither one is in season,” he said.

“Marwan, I swear to God, if I can’t count on you -”

“Pumpkins,” he decided. “Pumpkins are better.”

You tapped your temple. “A Halloween man. I like it.”

He sighed, but it was half a laugh. “I can’t believe I thought you had a serious need.”

“Don’t belittle what I see as serious,” you said. “I helped you guys come up with rhymes for the talent show, and you only got to perform the first three seconds of the rap. I spent hours on that.”

Marwan’s feet shuffled, and you knew that you had him. “We don’t talk about that.”

“I do,” you said with a grin. “And I always will. You guys are losers.”

“Losers that you hang out with.”

“At least I have cool pajamas.”

That afternoon, you cautiously turned to Marwan to see if he wanted to be your partner on an assignment. He met your eyes, and promptly turned around to partner with somebody else.

Kevin: not gonna make it today, srry

Y/N: illegal

Kevin: my parents invited family friends over without telling me

Tyler: you know they told you

Tyler: you just didn’t listen

Marwan: this myth has been busted

Kevin: Tyler is one to talk

Kevin: he was invited over

Y/N: I L L E G A L

Y/N: whats the point of seeing the movie if half the group cancelled?

Kevin: seeing the movie, you psycho

You scowled at your phone. You knew Kevin was right - if you cancelled now, even with a good reason, it would look like you just didn’t want to hang out alone with Marwan. Sure, that was the truth, but Marwan was the douche canoe. You didn’t need to stoop to his level.

You showed up at the theater to wait for him, half expecting him to be the one that doesn’t show up.

Maybe he was assuming the same thing, because he looked exhausted when he saw you standing by the entrance.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood: you could antagonize Marwan all evening, thereby rationalizing his obvious dread, or you could make this as easy on him as possible.

You took the one less travelled by, though you couldn’t be sure that it would make any difference.

You grinned at him, pushing off the wall to meet him halfway. “Good thing we didn’t buy tickets online, huh?”

He blinked at you, and though he didn’t smile outright, the tired lines around his eyes receded some. “Seriously. I’m not surprised Kevin bailed last minute - he’s the worst, and we knew what we signed up for - but Tyler is usually better than that.”

“Pretend we did buy them online - who would you have wanted to give the extra two tickets to?”

“I don’t know,” he said. He held the door open for you on the way in. “I might have just tweeted that I had extras, and let people fight for them.”

“Right,” you snorted.

“What?”

“Do you really think that people would fight over tickets to see 2001: A Space Odyssey?”

“It’s a classic!” He said the words as though they were sacred.

“That doesn’t make it good,” you argued.

“It’s the greatest movie of all time!”

You raised your hands in surrender. “I know it’s great - but since when have classics been good just because they’re classics? I’ve watched plenty of things just to be able to say I’ve seen them.”

Too your surprise, Marwan gave a hesitant nod. “Yeah, maybe. This isn’t the type of movie Cady and Aaron would go to on date night.”

You looked around at the people walking in with you: nerds and old people wandered around the lobby, buying tickets and snacks. “How romantic.”

Marwan gave a snort of laughter, and you counted it as a victory.

“Besides,” you continued. “I’m not sure I’d want to play third wheel to them in a movie like this. I don’t know if they make out in theaters, but I don’t want to see if they do.”

“You wouldn’t be a third wheel,” he said, taking two tickets from one of the workers. “I’d be here.”

You looked at the tickets, surprised. “I was going to pay for mine.”

Marwan froze, a deer in headlights. “It’s no big deal.”

It was a big deal. Friends don’t buy friends movie tickets without talking about it, not usually, and you and Marwan were hardly friends at all. You were acquaintances. Colleagues.

“I’m buying the snacks, then,” you declared. Marwan smiled, and it seemed like he had won ground you hadn’t realized was up for grabs.

“I can’t believe you eat before the movie starts,” you hissed.

“I’m hungry,” he said, and punctuated the words by eating a handful of popcorn.

“It’s half gone! I’m going to starve.”

He rolled his eyes, lips twitching into a smile. “Fine - I’ll go get a refill.”

You settled back into your seat, sipping at your drink while you watched a pre-preview segment about building the sets for some action movie starring Tom Cruise.

“Hey.”

You glanced into the row behind you, and were confused when you didn’t recognize the person speaking. “What?”

“Do you and your boyfriend always argue like that? You’ve been fighting about whether water is wet or not for fifteen minutes.”

“It isn’t! Liquids make things wet; they aren’t wet themsel - wait, he’s not my boyfriend.” You frowned at the person.

The unwelcome commenter smirked. “Sure looks like he is.”

“I think I would know if I was on a date,” you countered.

“You’d think he would know if he wasn’t.”

When Marwan came back, you side-eyed him. He brought back two popcorns, and when you raised an eyebrow at him, he shrugged. “I ate most of the one, so I got you your own. You don’t have to share it with me.”

You took it from him, stomach kicking. He bought your ticket, and now he bought you snacks. Marwan didn’t like you, and you thought that you knew that, but it was hard to hate him back when everything seemed skewed.

You should punch that person in the face. There was nothing more confusing than people calling reality into question.

You had been planning to take the bus home, but Marwan insisted on driving you.

“You never know what kind of creeps are out at night,” he reminded you.

“Us, apparently.”

He was a cautious driver, and sometimes your hands itched to take the wheel. “I’m getting you home safe,” he said through gritted teeth. “If something bad happens, it’s my fault, and that’s not okay.”

“I won’t blame you,” you said, a little touched. Then, when you decided that you were too touched, “I’ll be dead.”

“On second thought, you can take the bus.”

“On second thought, I’ll stay. I’ll make you stew in your hatred all night long,” you shot back.

He glanced at you for a second before looking back at the road. “I don’t hate you. It’s, like, mild annoyance at best.”

You frowned. “That sounds fake, but okay.”

“Wait - do you seriously think that I don’t like you?”

“I don’t think; I know you don’t like me,” you said.

Marwan gave a bewildered laugh, and you thought of what the person in the theater said. “You haven’t been so wrong in your entire life. Seriously, the opposite thing is true.”

“Opposite of hating me?” You scoffed, putting on a high pitched croon. “So you loooooooove me?”

He didn’t say anything.

“Marwan, that isn’t funny. I already knew that you weren’t funny, but this -”

“I’m not joking,” he mumbled.

You tried to swallow, but your throat wouldn’t work. “Still not funny.”

“I just - I don’t know how to talk to you,” he said with a grimace. “I mess it up every single time, and I know where I mess up, but I have no idea how I get there.”

“Usually by talking. In general, really.”

“Y/N,” he said. “I’m serious. I really like you. Like, everything about you, all the time. Even the stupid things - I wouldn’t change any of them. I’m not good at showing it, so I usually ignore you, but I do like you.”

“So act like it,” you said, and cringed. “Sorry, that was mean. But if you like me, and I think that you hate me, that’s probably a good reason to change what you’re doing.”

“What would you recommend?”

“Say, ‘hey, Y/N, when I act like a jerk, it’s because I want to hold your hand. That, and I’m allergic to saying nice things.’” You grinned at him when he looked at you again, but it was cautious. These were unexplored waters, and the two of you had been bad enough at navigating the known territory. “Say, ‘Y/N, I’m sorry that there was a misunderstanding. Now that we’re on the same page, please help me figure out what to say if I’ve messed something up.’”

“Okay,” he said. “Y/N, I like you a lot. I want to hold your hand. I want to go to movies with you, and I want to see you places without thinking I should leave before I start World War Three.”

“Okay,” you echoed. “Marwan, I like you a little bit, sometimes. You can’t hold my hand yet, we can go to movies, and you should talk to me when you see me. If you can act like an actual friend, we’ll see about the holding hands.”

He smiled, and you wondered how you had ever thought he hated you at all.

You didn’t start liking Marwan immediately, just because he apparently liked you. That would have been unrealistic after years of assuming that the two of you were probably in the middle of a nemesis origin story. You were pleasantly surprised to find out that Marwan was on the same page.

He didn’t invite you to go stargazing, but he texted you to look outside when he knew Mars was going to be there.

He didn’t try to ask you out on study dates, but he partnered with you in class assignments and stayed after school to work on them.

He took things slow, and he slowly improved.

Marwan: i cant believe youre crying during Wonder Woman

Y/N: i cant believe youre on your phone during class

Marwan: its homeroom

Y/N: shes such a good person

Y/N: and Steve Trevor deserved better

Marwan: because he’s smart and funny?

Y/N: bc hes super hot, actually

“You have glitter in your hair,” Marwan said during Mathletes practice.

“Yeah,” you said with a sheepish grin. “It turns out that I’m ‘not responsible’ and ‘have trouble using materials the way they’re supposed to be used.’”

Kevin reached over and ruffled your hair, sending a shower of glitter onto the floor. “I’m not cleaning that up,” he said.

“You’d better,” you warned. “You did that.”

“Not my glitter, not my problem.”

You grimaced at your shoulders. “I’m like a disco ball. Anybody have a flashlight?”

Tyler laughed. “How fast can you spin?”

“It’s all over your face,” Marwan said with a wry grin. “You look like you went clubbing.”

“Ah, my cover is blown.”

He leaned in and frowned, trying to wipe it off your face with his fingers. “Jesus. This isn’t coming off.”

“This is my new look,” you said, ignoring the stares from Tyler and Kevin.

“As good as it is, you should probably go shower.”

You shouldered your backpack, sighing. “I know. I just thought I’d hang out with my boys. Later, losers.”

On your way out, you heard Kevin ask what all of that was about.

“I like her,” Marwan said, a smile in his voice. “And I think she might like me, a little bit.”

You told Marwan that you wanted to take it slow, and you stood by that statement. You hadn’t wanted to throw yourself in headfirst. That being said, you also wanted to kiss him, so his willingness to be just friends was infuriating.

When he took you to see another movie, you wished he would offer to pay for your ticket.

You wished that he would eat too much popcorn, and that you could tease him about it.

You wished that he would hold your hand during the movie.

After it ended, while he drove you home, you wished that he would have trouble watching the road because he wanted to watch you instead.

“Marwan?”

“Yeah?” He checked his blind spot before changing lanes, jaw sticking out a little while he moved.

“I like you a lot.”

He grinned. “I like you a lot, too.”

“I want you to hold my hand,” you said.

“Right now? I’m trying to get you home safe, Y/N. Like I said before - I won’t let anything happen to you -”

You leaned over and pressed a tentative kiss into his jaw. It had still been jutting out, and the sharp angle of it softened in his surprise.

“Pull into a gas station or something,” you said. “I want to hold your hand.”

There was nothing cautious about his haste to pull over, and there was nothing weary or nervous about the smile on his face when he did.

#mean girls musical #mean girls #mean girls broadway #mean girls fanfic #marwan #marwan x reader #ally writes

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querenciablogs · 4 years ago

Text

Psycho - Chapter 11+12

Chapter 11

Seohyun was finally discharged from the hospital after a week. She got a part-time job to support herself and she moved into the small rooftop apartment, which brought back all the memories with Jun-seo back. Going back to school like she normally would, dealing with all those people and all their harsh words. It almost became like a normal routine to her. Seungmin would visit her occasionally to make sure she was okay. The two of them never gave up and kept on finding Jun-seo, and they didn't want to give up.

Seungmin: Seohyun-ah, r u free right now?

Seohyun: yeah, I'm done with work

: why?

Seungmin: let's meet up

Seohyun: where?

Seungmin: outside the cafe, I work at

Seohyun: k, I'll be there soon

She didn't know what Seungmin wanted to tell her, but she knew that it was going to be about Jun-seo. They both tried to avoid talking about him because he knew how she was sensitive to him. But it was useless because all they had to talk about was Jun-seo. No matter how long it will take to find him, Seohyun and Seungmin both would never give up. Not on someone like him.

-Outside the Cafe-

Seohyun waited outside in the cold weather, which made her hands cold and numb almost frostbitten. She was wearing a short skirt and didn't bring a long coat with her.

"Aren't you cold?" a familiar voice asked. It was Seungmin, looking tired and worn out.

"I'm fine, but I would love it if we go somewhere warmer to talk," she chimed.

"Well then, let's go!" Seungmin said as he held her hands, making her heart flutter and making her go multiple shades of red. This was something she had never had for as long as she could remember. Ever since Jun-seo was gone, nobody had ever held her hands tight and secure, making her know that she was not alone that was dealing with the harsh world. But it wasn't only Seohyun that was feeling this way, because Seungmin too was flustered by his own actions.

After a long and silent awkward walk, they had arrived at a night market. The place was filled with the delicious scents of the aroma coming from the various street food surrounding them.

"So about Jun-seo..." Seungmin started the conversation while holding the spicy Tteok-bokki.

"Yeah?"

"I think this might have to do with his parents," Seungmin stated.

"Why?"

"He's very secretive about his parents and stuff, and that was why we're so close," Seungmin said.

"Ohh," Seohyun said with food in her mouth.

"He never had anyone to talk to and anyone to open his heart out to,"

"Hmm,"

"He's always caring about what the others think that he never had once cared about his own health," he said with a deep sigh. But what he said was true. Jun-seo had never taken proper care of himself when he wasn't feeling well.

"You're right. I should've taken better care of him," she started to blame herself.

"Stop blaming yourself. He just had his own personal issues that he never shared anyone with,"

"Hmm,"

"This might have to do something with his parents, wanting him to take over their business, or that's at least what I think," he said as he took a bite of the spicy rice cake.

"You might be right, but you never know what someone else is going on in their lives unless you were in their shoes,"

"Life is really a difficult thing to understand, isn't it?"

"Yeah, we have no right to say what we want to. It's like it's all been scripted, and we can't change it, no matter how hard we try to,"

"Maybe you could,"

"Huh?"

"Maybe you could change your story, not theirs,"

"How could I do that? How? After all those obstacles that it made me go through, after all the pain,"

"You're not the only one, no matter what goes on in our lives, even if it's the most painful time of us," he smiled, and as he continued, "like a river flowing into the deep ocean, it never stops does it? Just like that, our life goes on,"

"Hmm, you sure about that?" Seohyun asked.

"Maybe," he said with an unsure face, which made Seohyun laugh.

"I better get going. My parents invited me over for dinner,"

"Do you want me to come along?" Seungmin suggested.

"I don't really think that's going to help, but thanks for the offer,"

"Are you going to go to the dinner looking like that?" Seungmin mocked sarcastically.

"No, are you saying I have terrible taste in fashion?," Seohyun said frowning.

"No," Seungmin replied.

"It's not like you would buy me new clothes anyway," Seohyun teased, making Seungmin feel bad.

"I would if only I had more money left over to spend," Seungmin said sadly.

"It's okay. I was joking, and besides, I don't want you to spend more money on me,"

"Okay then, bye and take care," Seungmin said as he turned.

"I will," Seohyun replied as she headed to the location for the dinner.

Little did she know what was waiting for her at dinner...

She was walking down the street looking at her surroundings. Things seemed different for her because of her long stay at the hospital after the horrible thing happened, she was starting to feel more aware of her surroundings, and what was around her. She let out a deep sigh and tried to clear her mind.

Seohyun arrived at the house she was invited to. She rang the bell. The door opened and she saw someone who looked like her parents. She was utterly surprised but she was also nervous and scared at the same time.

"Come in," her father said. She sat down at the wooden chair in the dining room. She never expected her parents to be there.

"We have something important to tell you,"

Chapter 12

"What do you mean?" Seohyun asked with tears welling in her eyes.

"Seohyun, you're adopted," her mother said with a cold tone.

"So, is this why I'm treated this way? Is this why you never cared about me?" Seohyun's hands started to tremble in fear and anger, and she continued, "why couldn't you tell me sooner?"

Those were the last words she said before leaving the house with a loud bang.

Why? Why me? Why couldn't they tell me sooner? Seohyun started to question herself.

She couldn't. She couldn't bear the pain and the truth. Rushing back to the rooftop apartment, she was quietly sobbing to herself. Nobody would know how it feels like, and no one would care...

She went into a grocery store to get something to eat. Just as she was finding some cup-noodles to eat when she saw a tall figure, all dressed in black. He looked like Jun-seo, but his hair was bleached into a shade of lighter brown. He resembles the person she saw weeks ago, giving her chills. She tried to best to focus on her own work, not wanting to bother the person.

He kept on giving glances at Seohyun with a worried expression. Seohyun started to feel uncomfortable about what is happening and took a deep breath.

"Is this all, ma'am?" the young cashier asked.

"Huh? Yeah," she replied.

"Are you okay, is there anything wrong?"

"Yes, I'm okay. Everything's fine," she tries to shake those worried feelings away. Although she was happy that she knew Jun-seo was okay, she was terrified that Jun-seo might hate her. But one thing was for sure. She missed him, and she missed him more than anything else. But she was scared that he might harm her, leave her alone again.

A headache took over her, and she took out her phone in a hurry from her bag. But instead of taking out her phone, she found an envelope. It wasn't an envelope that wasn't hers. She didn't place it here. It didn't belong to her. It was somebody else.

She looked around, but to her surprise, Jun-seo wasn't there. Instead of opening the envelope by herself, she thought it would be better to wait for Seungmin instead.

Seohyun: hey, I'm back from dinner

Seungmin: how was it?

Seohyun: long story, I don't want to talk abt it

Seungmin: u need me?

Seohyun: mind reader, but yes, I do need u

Seungmin: at home right now?

Seohyun: nope, I'm on my way there

Seungmin: k, I'll be there soon

: want any food?

Seohyun: yes, fried chicken

Seungmin: okay, but u should stop eating too much before u become a pig

Seohyun: yah!

Seungmin: srry

: not srry

Seohyun: stop making me upset, and just come here with my fried chicken

Seungmin: gosh, calm down

: see you soon

Seohyun: u too

-Time Skip-

While waiting for Seungmin, Seohyun started to clean outside the rooftop. Making sure things were clean and neatly organized. While cleaning the place, Seohyun remembered the first time Jun-seo surprised this place to her. They used to spend most of their time together in that little space. Seohyun took a seat in one of the seating areas to read the letter Jun-seo gave her. It read...

To Seohyun,

You may not know that I'm here with you in your everyday life. I tried to check up on you when I could. But things had been difficult for me these days. I tried my best to protect you when I could, and I am protecting you right now. I know this isn't the proper explanation you would want, but I am protecting you in any way I could. And that is to be away from you...

I am nothing but harm to you. Without being with you, it's the best way for both you and me. And I know that you're happy without me, you're with somebody better than me. It's Seungmin. Isn't it?

I don't want to ruin what you had or might have with Seungmin, but you have to be careful with him. He may seem kind to you, but he has done more harm than good. I am not saying this to scare you. And not to bring you away from Seungmin. But all I'm going to say is, Seohyun, please be careful...

If I'm the moon, you're the earth, and I could only revolve around you, and only you. And please don't think you're worthless and that you've done nothing good for me. But to me, you're my everything. To me, you're more important than my own life, and for that, I had to leave you. But I'll come back to you, I promised you, don't I?

You're mine, and I won't let anyone take that away from you. Everyone had taken everything I had from me, but you're my last possession, and I'll never let you go.

Only yours,

Jun-seo

Tears started welling in her eyes. She couldn't understand anything he said. Everything he wrote seems so fake to her. She wanted to trust him, and she wanted to believe everything he said. But to her, those words seemed like a lie. The word "promise" coming from someone like him just disgusted her. After everything he did, he had the courage to make her hurt again.

"Hey, I'm here," Seungmin said, interrupting her from her thoughts, but paused when he saw Seohyun crying, and he continued, "are you okay?"

"No, I'm not," Seohyun replied.

At that moment Seohyun's anger went to Seungmin. Seohyun felt very empty inside, knowing every word Jun-seo wrote was a lie. Her parents didn't care about her. Jun-seo had left her. Every single person in the world hates her... except Seungmin...

But little did she know, that person who doesn't hate her is going to change...

#psycho #querenciaoriginals #querenciablogs #ongoing #korean #mystery #chapter11 #chapter12 #romance

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min-hyyun · 7 years ago

Text

God’s Punishment

summary: seeing a little brown and white kitten meowing outside your door at four in the morning isn’t exactly what you’d call an ideal all-nighter. but when receiving the kitten turns into something else, you just end up realizing that you’re in for one heck of a month.

genre: fluff n tiny angst

a/n: i love animals n everyong (i didn’t mean for this to be so long lmao srry) ((maybe an alt angst ending if y'all want???))

—

→ okay so basically, you’re in love with kittens. → and receiving one at four in the morning on a tuesday night was a very nice surprise. → especially when you’ve been drowning in work and stress that won’t stop → so let’s elaborate on this fine night. → you had just come home from the usual late night at work, and was literally about to pass out from the fatigue. → it was 3:30 am and you knew that there was no way you’d be able to make it to your room without tripping all over yourself. → so you settled for the couch that had the tv and kitchen near it. → you opened the front door, and threw your shoes off your aching feet. → “oh my god… i’m so tired.” you whined, simply moving towards the couch and falling face first into the maroon cushions. → you almost cried from the amount of pain your body was in. → you hated life the most right now. → so once you had fallen onto the couch, not bothering to even change into proper clothes are take off your make up, you were pretty much almost asleep. → that was, until there was a burst of thunder and rain started to pour down heavily. → the drops hit the windows hard, making loud noises that immediately startled you from your much needed slumber. → you jolted up, eyes wide and mind jumbled. → you calmed down after seeing the situation outside, and got up to get a cup of cold water, getting ready to pull an all-nighter to finish your studies and extra work. → “god.. i’ll never be able to sleep if this is what’s gonna happen.” you complained, finishing your second cold glass of water. → it seemed that there was always something that stopped you from resting. → you dragged yourself to your room, grabbed the essentials needed for the night, and unhappily sat down in front of the coffee table that you very much wanted to smash. → you took out all of your work, and began to do the things you wished didn’t existed. → about 20 minutes into the session, you heard a quiet sound coming from your door. → it almost sounded like scratching. → you paused in your movements, and turned to look at the door → what the heck… → to say that you were scared was an understatement. → yOU WERE TERRIFIED ! → there it was again. → the weird, but decipherable sound that was extremely similar to someone scratching hard at the wood on your door. → grabbing the object closest to you, which happened to be a hard-cover book, you slowly stood up and tip-toed towards the entrance. → in the heat of the moment, you swung open the door, holding the book in front of your face and closing your eyes. → that was when you heard a faint meow. → wHAT THE HECKADOODLE ! → your eyes turned big, upon noticing a small, brown and white kitten who simply stared up at you with its big brown orbs, meowing once again. → “what the…” you whispered. → why was there a kitten sitting outside of your door at four am on a tuesday night meowing??????? → you bent down and hesitantly stuck your hand out to the cat, letting it lick your finger once. → this was all so weird. → “hey little guy, what are you doing out here?” as you said this, you gently thrusted your hands towards the harmless kitten. → it slowly climbed onto your hands, walked in a couple circles, and finally settled into the centre of your palms. → it nuzzled its head into the crook of your thumb, and quietly purred. → yOUR HEART ! → this cat was so cute. → it made you feel calm. → you stood up, the kitten still curled up in your palms, and looked to both sides of the hallway in the apartment building. → all the lights were off, and there was no sign of recent activity that could’ve happened. → shaking your head, you walked back inside to your apartment and quietly shut the door with your foot. → the kitten was asleep, but was awakened by the sound of the door shutting harder than you had intended. → “oops.” you smiled sheepishly down at the kitten, who had now uncurled from its position and stood up on all four legs. → you moved towards the couch again, where all your previous work healing-unicorn. → the cat meowed again, and jumped onto the sofa from your hand as soon as you got close enough. → it continued to walk around on the cushions, before looking at you again and purring. → “so…” you started, rubbing a pillow and cuddling into it. → “how did you get here?” → all it did was come towards you, use its little teeth and bite the sleeve of your sweater that was laying on a small sliver of the couch, and pull towards the other end of it. → “huh? what do you want?” → the kitten continued to pull so you complied and moved, laying your full body onto the surface. → the kitten meowed the loudest you ever heard, since it’s presence showed itself to you. → you smiled and giggled at the cuteness, letting your much-needed sleep come over you, as well as the furball who decided to cuddle between your arm and body. → okay so fast forward to the next morning. → instead of waking up on the couch you ended up on the floor. → your back ached from being against the hardwood for the majority of the night. → you sat up, mind still cloudy but slowly coming back together. → as soon as you realized that you were awake completely, you looked beside you to the couch. → well, you could only turn your head so far, until you knocked your forehead into something hard. → “ouch! what the..?” → oH MY LORD ! → THERE WAS A BOY SLEEPING ON YOUR COUCH ! → AND HE WAS SHIRTLESS ! → your eyes widened, and you shouted. → “WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY APARTMENT?” → the loudness of your voice woke him up, and once he laid his eyes on you, he moved back in shock. → but after a couple seconds, the shock disappeared and he gave you a slight grin. → “uh.. hi. im seongwoo..?” → you were still scared for your life LOL. → you stood up, hands trembling from the scare. → he stood up as well, and you clearly saw his defined abs. → you instantly blushed, turning away so that he didn’t see your face turn beet red. → he must’ve been embarrassed too, because he grabbed the nearby pillow laying on the couch. → “im sorry! uh, this is a little bit awkward, huh?” → a littLE BIT ????? → THIS IS VERY AWKWARD !! → “what are you doing in my apartment? i dont remember knowing a ‘seongwoo’.” you turned back around and glared at him intensely. → “you see…” he started, scratching the back of his neck, “i may or may not have been the kitten that you took in yesterday.” → you gave him a confused looked that for sure, told him he was crazy. → “believe it or don’t. all i know, is that i’m stuck with you until god decides that this punishment’s over and i can go back up to heaven.” → you gave him a suspicious look, and eyed him up and down. → he didn’t seem harmful, but there could’ve been something bad under that so-called “innocence”. → “sit, and explain everything to me in detail.” → a good hour passed by, and you now had full knowledge of seongwoo and why he was here. → so to quickly break it all down. → seongwoo’s an angel who takes care of cats. → he did something bad in heaven (by bad he means that he accidentally dropped a cat and broke its neck oOF). → so to serve time in return for hurting the kitten, he has to live on earth as your kitten/pet for a month before going back. → during the day, he’s human but at exactly 7:00 pm, he turns back into a kitten. → for the first few days, he dreaded life with you. → he was quite energetic and wanted to do a lot of stuff. → but because you were always so busy, coming home late at night and always working during the day, he hated not being able to do anything. → especially when he couldn’t go out. → a factor god put on him, was that he was basically tied to your apartment.

→ the poor guy was forbidden to leave, and seongwoo always complained about that.

→ after a couple weeks passed by, he was content and didn’t really complain or whine anymore. → you bought him stuff to do or play with so that he wouldnt be so bored all the time while you were gone. → on days that you were home, he was so happy. → interacting with someone else other than in a game was something he needed. → somehow during all of this, you managed to fall in love with him. → even though it seemed silly. → being with him throughout that one month made you happier than expected, and you came to love his craziness that you thought was cute. → not to mention the adorableness coming form him when he was a kitten. → but as the end of the month came around, seongwoo seemed to be getting more distant and cold towards you. → he always complained or was rude when you talked to him, and didn’t interact with you as much. → and when he was in cat form, instead of cuddling into your arm like usual, he slept somewhere else away from you. → you were getting sad and confused at his actions, because where did the old seongwoo go ???? → on the very last day of his punishment, you confronted him as he was getting a book to read from your shelf. → “seongwoo,” you grabbed his arm and turned him around. → he looked at you, surprised, but then furrowed his eyebrows. → “what you do want, Y/N?” → his tone was harsh, and your heart broke a little. → “why are you acting like this? i thought everything was going well between us?” → he ripped his arm out of your grasp, staring at your hand that was just resting on his a second ago. → “nothing’s wrong…” he grumbled, and stared at him. → “seongwoo, you’ve become so distant and moody. there’s definitely something wrong, just tell me.” → suddenly, he threw his arms up in the air, and shouted. → “i like you, okay!? and i dont want to go back to heaven…” → there are no words to describe the shock you felt after he said that. → “…what?” → he continued with a frustrated expression. → “i like you a lot. but i’m leaving you, literally tomorrow. do you know how much that hurts me? to leave someone you like who probably doesn’t even like you back in the first place?! my heart hurts, and its been hurting for a while now! i dont even know how i fell for you, maybe it’s because you smell really ni-“ → you cut off his rambling with a tight hug. → you smiled through the fabric of the sweater he was wearing. → “stop talking, and just hug me back.” → you could feel seongwoo tense up, but slowly put his arms around your smaller frame. → “Y/N.. why are you hugging me?” → your rolled your eyes, smile getting wider. → “you’re such a dummy sometimes. i like you too.” → he sucked in a breath, before tightening his hug. → “really? thats great to hear.” → but the moment didn’t last very long, because he pulled back from the hug with a frown on his lips. → “but, im still leaving tomorrow. us confessing doesn’t change anything.” → you looked down at your feet, grabbing his hands. → “well, i guess we have to make the best of it.” → it was only 4:00 pm, so you still had time to spare and do stuff as human-to-human, rather than human-to-kitten. → of course, you both cuddled and fed each other small marshmallows. → basically you guys just did really cute stuff until 7:00, when seongwoo changed back into a kitten. → it was just around the time you would usually go to sleep, and seongwoo was already resting on the couch as you got ready for bed. → you stared hard into the mirror, tears slowly flowing out of your eyes. → “i don’t want him to go..” you told yourself. → despite your silent protests, there was nothing you could do. → you fell asleep next to the kitten with a frown on your lips. → the next morning, you woke up to strong arms around your waist. → sEONGWOO WAS SPOONING YOU !!!!! → your cheeks immediately heated up, but went away as you remembered what today was. → the day he leaves. → you got up from his grasp, and left for the kitchen. → “seongwoo!” you call out. → he groaned in response, and you smiled sadly, “do you know how you’re leaving?” → you heard a faint grumble and a “no”, taking that as a sign to drop the topic. → as you walked by, you noticed the weather outside begin to get darker and windier. → it was quite nice the whole month, so this abrupt change startled you and seongwoo. → suddenly, rain poured down so hard, you felt the floor shake. → “seongwoo..? whats going on?” you asked, beginning to get scared. → he took a deep breath, opening the window in your living room. → “they’re here to take me back.” → grabbing his arm and pulling him in a tight bear hug, you looked up at him with an unreadable expression . → you weren’t ready for him to go so soon. → and then, just as you thought the winds would take him away, a small, yellow note flew through your windows and landed gracefully onto the floor. → you left seongwoo’s arms, and slowly picked it up. → “theres always an unspoken rule: if you want to become fully human again, draw a black circle on your wrist and blow.” → your eyes widened, so did his. → you stared at each other, no words spoken between you two. → by now, the rain and winds were gone and replaced with a beautiful sunshine. → seongwoo wasted no time in grabbing the black marker that sat on your table, drawing a perfect circle and blowing. → as he blew, the circle slowly disappeared, and the word “human”, bolded in black appeared right after. → everything was silent. → “seongwoo,” you said softly, “are you human now?” → “i think so…” he replied, brows furrowed. → “i just dont understand, why would he let me do this?” → as though someone was there right beside the both of you, there was a whisper. → “you deserve it, seongwoo. love her well, and dont lose her.” → a bright smile replaced the confusion on your face, and you turned to seongwoo, giving him the biggest hug. → “don’t leave me now, seongwoo.” → he laughed, returning the bear hug “i wouldnt dream of it.”

#produce 101 #wanna one #p101 season 2 #ong seongwoo #scenarios #wanna one scenarios #produce 101 scenarios #everyong #ong seongwu #ong seongwoo scenarios #seongwoo scenarios

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steves-on-a-plane · 7 years ago

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Wishing On A Black Star

Words: 1462 Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Request: “Hi are taking requests if u are could u do a bucky x stark reader . Were it is he readers 19th birthday and her tony throws her a party with all her friends and stuff and she goes out on the balcony and bucky comes too chatting with her he then finally kisses her tells her how he feels and tony comes out u can decide what happens next srry if it sounds stupid😊😊😊😊” -@lovely-wagner

"There's the birthday girl.” You looked over your shoulder to see Bucky Barnes had just joined you out on the balcony. “You know your father’s been looking for you for the past twenty minutes?”

“Yeah.” You sighed. You rested your elbows on the balcony’s railing and settled your head on top so that you were looking out at the city. “I probably should go back in soon. He knows where I am, he’s just buying me some time.”

“Buying you some time?” He was confused.

“Yeah.” You sighed again. “I told him it was getting a little bit much in there, I wanted fresh air.”

“A Stark who doesn’t like parties.” Bucky leaned against the railing next to you. “That’s something new.” He chuckled mostly to himself.

“Dad once told me that Grandma didn’t like parties much either. Maybe I get if from her.” You turned to look at Bucky. “I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve come out on the balcony for some peace and quiet the over the years.” You leaned against the railing now too, so you and Bucky were both looking back inside your father’s penthouse.

“I use to have this silly fantasy when I was younger that one day I’d come out here and some handsome guy would have followed be out here. We’d talk just like this about how parties are so fake and superficial, and just as I turn to leave he’d pull me in for this big romantic kiss.” You snorted. “Then again, used to think I could fly at that age so what did I know.” You shook your head.

“I’d better get back in there. It is suppose to be my birthday party after all. It was nice talking to you, Bucky.” You pushed off your spot on the railing but Bucky called you back.

“[Y/n], wait!”You turned around not sure what he could possibly want. It only took a half step for him to close the gap between you. He brought his warm hand up under your chin and tilted your head. You had no choice but to look up at his turquoise blue eyes.

“Happy birthday.” He whispered before bringing his own face down to kiss yours. You were completely surprised. You had no idea Bucky felt that way about you! By the time you realized he’d kissed you, he was pulling away.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for awhile, but the timing was never right.” He whispered. The balcony was suddenly filled with overwhelming noise. You and Bucky whipped your heads to see the source of the sounds. Your father had just stepped outside.

“Oh, there you are!” He was too busying calling dramatically over his shoulder to the crowd by the door to notice you wrapped up in Bucky’s arms. “Hey, [Y/n], why don’t you come inside we’re gonna get the cake…” He finally turned to look at you and he froze. “What’s going on out here?”

“Nothing Dad.” You stepped away from Bucky and towards your father. “Bucky was just letting me know you were looking for me. You were saying something about cake?”

“No.” Tony shook his head. You watched the storm begin to brew in his dark brown eyes. His pupils were wide and furious. “I’m sorry, but absolutely not.”

“Dad, Daddy, it’s nothing.” You reached out to him trying to guide him back inside, but he pulled you towards himself instead.

“Go back inside, Princess.” He kissed your forehead and gently pushed you towards the door.

“Dad, c’mon. We can talk about this later.” You tried to tug him inside with you again but he shrugged off your grip.

“No!” He yelled. This took you by surprise. Tony Stark didn’t yell, and certainly never at you. “I’m sorry but no, not this time. He doesn’t get to take you too.”

“Stark it’s not like that.” Bucky argued.

“Don’t speak to me.” Tony spat. He stepped in front of you protectively.

“Dad!” You gasped, trying to push past him. You’d never seen him react this way before. “What is going on with you?” By now the small crowd that was gathered by the door had stopped their idle chattering. All eyes were cast outside at the windy balcony. Steve had pushed his way to the front of the pack. He stepped out onto the balcony in an attempt to defuse the situation.

“[Y/n], why don’t you come inside?” The captain suggested softly. “This is something that doesn’t need to involve you.” You really wished someone would tell you what was happening.

"Don’t tell my kid what to do, Rogers.” Tony growled. “You know he’s only here on your word in the first place. Of course, maybe that’s why you’re trying to send her away. You don’t want her to know the truth about your old war buddy here?” He gestured at Bucky in disgust.

“Tony, this isn’t exactly the ideal time or place. We really should move things inside.” Steve was speaking in a calm even tone but his body language had taken on an offensive stance.

“Maybe I should just go…”Bucky started walking towards the door but your father stepped in his way.

“Oh I don’t think so.” The billionaire began to roll up his sleeves. Around this time Dr. Banner had managed to force his way out out the balcony, it was starting to feel a little crowded with the five of you out there now.

“Tony what’s going on?” Bruce asked. “Don’t you think you’re over reacting a little bit? [y/n) is nineteen, as of this morning. And they were just kissing. I’m sure it’s not her first kiss.”

“You don’t understand Banner.” Tony sneered.

“Then enlighten me.” Bruce insisted. “Because I’m pretty sure if it were possible you’d be a green monster in purple cutoffs right about now.”

“You mean he doesn’t know?” Your father looked between Steve and Bucky. “Well of course not because you two are the only ones who know. And, apparently, no one was planning on ever telling me. Which, I know you don’t exactly owe me anything Rogers, but an explanation really would have been a courtesy in this case.”

“How was I suppose to bring it up Tony? There was never a right time…” Steve struggled to explain himself.

“THE LAST THING…” Your father took a minute to compose himself and lower his voice. You didn’t know what to do other than watch silently. You’d never seen him come unhinged like this before. “The last thing you should have done was brought him here. It’s an insult to their memory, and frankly it’s an insult to me that you didn’t think I would figure it out on my own.”

“Insult to whose memory?” Dr. Banner asked, obviously as confused as you were.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Tony pointed a shaking hand at Bucky. “You are looking at the face of the man who killed Howard and Maria Stark.”

“What?” There were gasps from the open doorway behind you, but the truly horrifying thing was that Dr. Banner was the only person out on the balcony who looked as shocked as you felt.

“No, no.” You shook your head violently. It couldn’t be true. You suddenly felt uncomfortable. You wanted to scrub your skin. Just the idea of what your father had suggested made your skin crawl. You were just talking to Bucky about your grandmother seconds ago and he hadn’t said anything. He hadn’t even seemed uncomfortable at the mention of her.

“Grandma and Grandpa Stark died in a car accident.” You argued. “I’ve seen the newspaper clippings. They hit a pole, there were no other cars on the road.”

“All the evidence was fabricated.” Bucky confessed. “The tire didn’t blow out. I shot it. It’s true, [y/n]. You’re father’s right. I’m responsible for your grandparents’ deaths.”

You felt your chest tighten. Second ago you’d been lip locked with the man who killed your grandparents. Not only had he ruined your father’s life on top of murdering two people, he’d deprived you of so many childhood memories. Memories that other children got to have and share with their grandparents. Memories that your father too had missed out on. You could have lived a whole other life were it not for him. And he’d made romantic advances towards you, you’d been flirting for weeks! He did all of this knowing what he’d done.

You felt sick to your stomach. You felt angry. You were heartbroken. No wonder your father had reacted the way he did! It was taking all your might to not start screaming yourself. Instead you turned on your heels and ran inside, the crowd parted for you as you wiped away the thick fat tears which had already started to fall.

#Bucky Barnes #james buchanan barnes #Bucky Barnes FF #Bucky Barnes Fan Fic #Bucky Barnes Fan Fiction #Bucky Barnes x Reader #Bucky Barnes Reader Insert #Request

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writings-andstuff · 7 years ago

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Coincidences Part II (Bucky x Reader)

You guys have waited way too long for this and for that I’m sorry. But here it is, so I won’t start it with my usual long-winded preamble.

Happy Reading!

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Modern AU thingy)

Words: 5046 (yikes, that’s the longest fic I’ve ever written)

Warnings: The usual tiny bit of swearing

Excerpt: For a moment, you wonder how this became your life. Yesterday, you were just another girl worrying about everything except her lack of a love life. Now that’s all you can think about because you’re flirting with a complete stranger. How insanely insane is that? For all you know, he could be a forty-something year old dude with three ex-wives and a beer-belly that could carry triplets. Somehow, though, you don’t think that’s likely.

Series Tags: @melanie451 @sebstanwassup @colagirl5 @winenighthoe @lovemarvelousfics @gotnotfeature @sebastianst-n @alwayshave-faith @hollycornish @iggytheboywonder

Tags: @langinator @fairchild21

Your name: submit What is this?

New Message from Mr. Catarcs

3:42 a.m u up?

You blink your eyes blearily and shift in bed. The sheet is wrapped around your legs like sweaty vines, constricting your movement. You growl angrily and throw them off, sitting up and relishing in the cool air of your apartment. Despite the frigid cold outside, you somehow still manage to wake up sweating. Maybe you’re a mutant.

Glancing over at your phone, it dings again to impatiently let you know that you still haven’t opened the text that woke you up. Usually your phone is switched to silent because of your job at the diner. There are always so many phones going off that it’s almost impossible to tell which is which. It’s just easier having your phone on silent because then you’re never worried about whether your phone is ringing or if it’s someone else’s. It saves you a lot of unnecessary anxiety.

But ever since last night’s conversation with James, you decided that you wanted to hear your phone ring with a text. It’s the first time in your life that you don’t want to miss a text.

You pick up the offending piece technology and swipe it open. Sure enough, the text is from James and you grin despite the fact that this message is the same one that woke you at—you squint at your alarm clock—3:49 a.m.

Deciding you are both thirsty and in need of some time in the open air of your apartment and not under the suffocating sheets, you get up and stretch. The floors are cold as you pad to the kitchen and fill a glass with water, shooting a text back to James.

3:51 a.m I am now

You wait for an answer while downing your glass of water and putting the empty glass in the sink again. Maybe he fell back asleep when you didn’t answer right away.

For a moment, you wonder how this became your life. Yesterday, you were just another girl worrying about everything except her lack of a love life. Now that’s all you can think about because you’re flirting with a complete stranger. How insanely insane is that? For all you know, he could be a forty-something year old dude with three ex-wives and a beer-belly that could carry triplets. Somehow, though, you don’t think that’s likely.

You have no proof of this, and absolutely no reason to believe he isn’t a creep except for a gut feeling. You resolve to ask his age whenever he decides to answer you.

You think about that. He could lie to you and tell you that he’s 20 when he’s really a lot older than that. The only way you’d truly know is if you meet him in person.

Suddenly you’re a little dizzy. This is just way too much to worry about at four a.m. You decide to just talk to him. You genuinely like his personality, and you don’t have to worry about all that other stuff until you actually meet him. If you actually meet him. That’s a big, neon-colored, flashing sign in the middle of absolute nowhere if.

Your phone dings and you look over from where you’re clutching the counter. You don’t notice how hard you were gripping the counter until you pull your palms away and it stings, lines etching themselves across your palm.

4:03 a.m srry didnt mean to wake u

Before you can even formulate a response, he’s texting you again. A double text. Gasp.

4:04 a.m just couldnt sleep. i was wondring if u wanted to talk

You tilt your head at your screen. He’s up in the middle of the night, and the first thing he does is text you? Why? Does he not have other people he can talk to? A stupid part of you, the same part that wants to meet him in person, thinks that maybe it’s because he wants to talk to you.

Maybe he does. Probably not. It’s too much to hope for. All his other friends are probably asleep. Regardless, not answering is not an option. Well, it is, but it’s not one you’re likely to explore, not when your chest has those freaky bubbles in it and your stomach is doing that stupid flippy-thingy. Nope. This, you decide, feels like High School when a cute boy texted you first and the instinct to giggle shot up to level 12.

4:06 a.m alright. what about?

Capitals, Y/N. What the hell happened to capitals?

You take your phone and pad back into your room, perching yourself up against the headboard with your knees drawn up to your chest and your phone in your hands as you wait for a response. Worrying your bottom lip, your mind drifts to work. You’ll have to get up in about three hours to be at work on time. Man, you’re going to be tired.

It’s then that your phone dings. You decide then that talking to him makes it worth the fatigue.

4:11 a.m twenty questions?

4:11 a.m Fine, but since you woke me up you have to go first.

The three dots that mean he’s typing pop up three different times before the response finally comes through.

4:15 a.m whatd u go to school 4?

You laugh.

4:15 a.m getting down to the nitty gritty personal stuff I see

You think for a moment. Telling him what you do isn’t divulging too much about yourself, so you decide it’s okay.

4:16 a.m lol yup thats me. i want the deep personal stuff. might just ask what ur fav color is nxt

4:16 a.m 1. editing; 2. sorry, that’s sacred info

4:17 a.m 1 ah i understand y ur a grammar nazi now…2 obviously

Thinking for a moment, you decide that favorites are just too cliche. Any conversation anyone has with some new friend ends in questions that start with “What’s your favorite…” You really want to know how old he is, but you figure you need an ice breaker before you get to the actual nitty gritty.

First, though, you must take the bait to piss him off:

4:19 a.m What would you have done if I hadn’t gone to college?

With a yawn, you lie back down and curl on your side, sitting your phone on the nightstand in front of you with your eyes glued to it. Once you realize that staring at it isn’t going to make him type faster, you turn over.

You’re totally not too eager. There’s no—

Ding!

You flip over so fast that you rip the sheet from the other side of the bed and end up with half of it between your stomach and the bed. It pulls from the bottom corner of the bed and is slightly uncomfortable, but you don’t care.

4:22 a.m high school?

4:23 a.m I didn’t go to high school FOR anything

You’re not sure if the use of caps-lock is weird, but you send it off anyways, deciding that emphasis on that one word is crucial to your meaning. He replies within seconds.

4:23 a.m i mean dunno bout u but i went to learn

You laugh, probably louder than is necessary.

4:24 a.m Touche. What’d you go to school for?

4:26 a.m repeating questions isnt alowed

Frowning, you wonder if he actually didn’t go to college. Should you push it? Maybe you should just change the question. There’s a part of you, the curious part that wanted to be a reporter when you were young, that really wants to know.

There isn’t too much time for you to think all of that before he’s texting you again. Usually, you’re the one to mercilessly double-text. James, it would seem, has you beat in this department. Also, you didn’t want to double-text a complete stranger.

Before you even look at the text, it hits you again: this is a complete stranger. The thought of not answering enters your mind again, but you push it down. No harm in just talking if neither of you meet, right? Right?

Right.

4:27 a.m i joined the military right out of HS

It’s a real Oh moment, and you find yourself staring at your screen as if it’s a real person. The military? What are you supposed to say to that? What’s the protocol for a text that you’re not sure how to answer? Should you just leave it alone? No; if you leave it alone then he’ll think he freaked you out. He hasn’t. Your brain is just short-circuiting on an answer.

Should you think him for his service? No. Not yet. You don’t want to call too much attention to it in case he doesn’t want to talk about it or he’s had bad experiences, but you’re still not sure how to respond. Have you taken too long already?

You summon up some courage and type out a message.

4:31 a.m Oh wow. Well, what would you have studied if you had gone?

You cringe, totally not meaning for that to sound like you were completely skipping over the issue altogether. James doesn’t seem to mind though, if his response is any indication.

4:32 a.m hmm history i think. ive always liked ww2 4 some reason

4:33 a.m well you’ve got AP european history girl right here. 1 of only 11 in the whole senior class to take it.

4:34 a.m well, smartypants i get 2 q’s bc u asked 2

You feel that you handled that effectively, and you were already beginning to formulate a plan in your head while he thought about his questions.

See, you know next to nothing about the military or what it’s all about except that it is for valiant people who want to serve their country. You can respect that, but you want—nay, need—to learn more. Convincing yourself that it’s purely for research purposes and not for anything else.

Regardless, you need to know more. It’s probably better to get it from someone who has been through it rather than from some cold, impersonal online source. And besides, you just so happen to know someone who was in the military. Someone who, in fact, lost a limb in the line of duty: Bucky Barnes.

As far as you know, Bucky lost his left arm in the military. You’d asked him before how he lost it and he hadn’t answered you, opting instead to change the subject to Steve and his new (at the time) art studio. It had been suspicious, but you understand that it must not be easy to speak about something like that.

You’ll have to go talk to Steve tomorrow morning to get Bucky’s number, but you think that maybe you’ll treat him to lunch in exchange for him giving you some details about the whole military thing. At the company, you get an hour off for lunch, which is just enough time to go out, interrogate a friend (respectfully, of course), and head back before the hour is up.

The plan was formed and you had your head already set on it. By the time James’ reply comes in, you’ve tuckered yourself out thinking that whole plan out. It is really late—er, early—after all.

4:41 a.m 1 how was ur day 2 how r u likely to spend a friday night

4:43 a.m I feel like I’m taking a Buzzfeed quiz

You yawn again and type out your answers.

4:44 a.m my day’s just begun. it’s four a.m. And probably reading or something

You put your phone down, thinking that you’ll just leave it there and wait for his reply, but you end up turning over and falling asleep.

In the morning, you turn your phone on silent again while you get ready for work, playing some music while you apply some light make-up.

It turned out that James hadn’t answered you anyway, so you would have been up waiting for a text that wasn’t going to come. Good thing you passed out.

Glancing at the clock, you notice that it’s 7:02 a.m and that Steve should be up. You don’t have to be at work until 8 and it’s not a long bus ride to get to work so you figure you can spare half an hour to haggle your best friend into giving up Bucky’s phone number. You wonder why you haven’t thought to get it sooner, figuring that you just never needed it.

You and Bucky only ever hung out with Steve or the rest of the gang. He was a friend of yours, but the two of you had never been too close in the two years of knowing each other. That said, you had heard a lot about each other even before meeting from Steve, and Bucky had expressed in the past how annoying he found it when Steve was constantly mentioning you in casual conversation.

It was the same with Bucky for you. Steve had been talking about his best friend Bucky ever since you had met him. It was in that way that you and Bucky had gotten to know each other sort of inadvertently.

Heading out the door and across the hall, you knock on Steve’s door lightly a few times. He’s a light sleeper anyways, and you don’t want to wake the whole hall with loud knocking. You only opt for knocking this time in case he’s not decent or something. Otherwise, you would have used your key.

Sure enough, Steve answers the door within a few minutes, clad in flannel pajama pants, a white V-neck, and holding a steaming cup of coffee. It smells amazing, and you realize then that in your rush you’d forgotten to make yourself some.

“Got another one of those and half an hour?”

Steve raises an eyebrow but steps aside to let you in. He’s a morning person, so you were sure on your way over here that you wouldn’t receive any resistance.

“What do you need?” he asks you, pouring you a cup of coffee not unlike how he’d done it the night before. He pours in a generous amount of milk and some sugar before stirring it and handing it to you, just the way you like it.

Blow, sip—“Mm,” you hum. “I need Bucky’s phone number.” You say it as nonchalantly as you can manage so as not to raise any flags to Steve, but by his surprised expression you can tell that you’ve raised them all.

“Bucky? Why?”

You shrug like it’s no big deal. “He has some info that I need.” It sounds so covert and cheesy that you almost giggle, but you manage to keep your composure while sipping your coffee again.

Steve tilts his head to the side almost imperceptibly, leaning his back against the counter across from you as you sit at a stool by his island. Said island juts out from a wall to half-enclose the kitchen area like a wrap-around ‘J’ with the island as the tail.

After a few moments of silence, it becomes clear that Steve is waiting for you to elaborate, and when you don’t indulge, he sighs, setting his cup down and crossing his arms.

“Okay, but don’t call him now,” Steve says, already ruffling in a drawer for a pen and paper. “He—he has trouble sleeping, and he needs as much of it as he can get before he has to work. And he’s taking Friday off so he has to log in more hours to make up the difference.” Steve hands you a piece of paper with numbers scribbled on it.

“Got it,” you said, taking the paper and sticking it in your bag. “Thanks, Steve.”

“Yeah,” he smiles at you. “No problem.”

You stand and head to the door, plan in motion and feeling good about it. Then you remember something and turn as you’re walking toward the door.

“Steve?”

He lifts his head from where he’s still standing in the kitchen sipping his coffee. You realize you’ve left yours there, but decide that it’s okay. You’ll survive. Somehow.

“Yeah?”

“Mom is bringing over pasta around two, but I won’t be home,” you can already see his eyes lighting up. “I told her to make extra and that you should be back by then. Can you—”

“—keep it here until you get home?” He knows you so well, it’s scary. “Yeah, but don’t expect me not to try some of it first.”

You fix him with a warning finger. “I’ll be over at seven and I will expect there to be enough for dinner and lunch tomorrow.”

He holds his hands up. “Hey, we all know my metabolism requires a lot of calories per day, and two is just in time for a late lunch.”

“Steve,” you warn.

“Alright,” he laughs. “I’ll leave some of your mother’s pasta for you for dinner.”

“That’s all I ask.”

You walk back over, kiss his cheek, take one more sip of your coffee, and then leave.

You tap your foot on the ground impatiently as you wait at your desk for the clock to turn from 11:29 to 11:30 so you can head for a bathroom break to call Bucky and find out if he’s busy for lunch.

James hadn’t texted you all day, but you figure that’s okay. He doesn’t always have to text you. He has a life. You push him mostly out of your head, or you try to. You fail miserably.

He’s the reason you’re meeting with Bucky anyways. As much as you don’t want to admit it, that’s the truth. Of course, you can’t tell Bucky that. You’ll just sound stupid. And then Bucky will tell Steve and Steve will have some sort of “talking to strangers is bad” intervention with you. You definitely don’t want to endure that.

11:30 hits and it’s officially been half an hour since your actual bathroom break. You don’t want to call attention to yourself in the office that you share with a whole bunch of other people in too-tightly-packed cubicles. You grab the slip of paper Steve had given you and head to the elevator.

By the time you make it to the downstairs bathroom, you realize that you forgot your phone upstairs on your desk. Great. Now what are you going to do? If you go back up to get it, you’ll look suspicious. Of course, you shouldn’t really care what your coworkers think of you, but you do. Everybody says they don’t care about peer acceptance but most actually do.

It’s human nature.

You sigh angrily and look around. The lobby is all marble floors and a little shop where they sell overpriced snacks and drinks. There’s a desk to the left of the elevator bank with one woman sitting in a black wheelie chair making and taking phone calls.

Can you just ask her to borrow one of her phones? There’s an empty seat next to her. Maybe you can explain your situation and just ask this woman if you can borrow the phone.

The only thing is that you don’t know this woman. Your supers rented the office space with the endless rows of cubicles from the people who owned the building. This woman obviously works for the building management, and not for anyone you know.

You decide it’s better that she doesn’t know you. It’s less personal. You can call Bucky, discuss details, and be done with it.

You sidle over and lean on the high desk. Its polished marble top is so high that you have to lean over it a little to see the woman. She’s plump, with dark hair, blue eyes, and a squished face. She looks the opposite of friendly. She’s wearing a black headset that you realize is some sort of Bluetooth.

You wait until she is done speaking to talk to her.

“Um, hello?”

She doesn’t look at you for a moment, reaching up instinctively as if she thinks you’re in her headset before she realizes she’s speaking to a real person. She eyes you.

“What?”

You were right to guess she wasn’t very friendly.

“I was wondering if I could borrow your phone,” you say kindly. “I have to call someone and I accidentally left my phone upstairs.”

She looks bored and eyes you for another second before looking back at her computer screen. “Just go up and get it.”

“It’s urgent,” you lie. Man, this is going to be awkward after you make the call right in front of her and she finds out its personal.

She eyes you again. “You have five minutes.”

You smile at her. “I’ll only need three.”

You wait as she plops one of the black phones on top of the counter, and it’s so high that you have to go up on your tiptoes to see the number pad.

“Type extension 382 first, then the number.”

With that, she gets back to her work and you pull the phone from the receiver. You flatten the paper on the desk and do as she instructed.

You wonder if he’ll even pick up. This will be an unknown number to him, and you know that if it were you, you wouldn’t answer.

It rings three times before a familiar, gruff voice answers.

“Hello?”

“Bucky? It’s Y/N.”

He sounds surprised. “Y/N?” There’s a pause, a honking noise, and then he sounds as if he’s realized something. “Steve gave you my number.”

“Yeah,” you say. “I had to call you from a work phone, though.”

You catch the woman looking up at you briefly and can tell she’s annoyed that this is a personal call. You’re sure this call needs to be as short as you can possibly make it or else you’re afraid she’ll just cut it herself.

“Oh.”

“Listen, are you busy for lunch in, like, half an hour?”

Bucky thinks for a moment on the other line and the lady looks at you again, her gaze becoming more venomous. You’re pretty sure that once she looks at you a third time she’s going to end your call for you.

Just as you’re about to scold him for an answer, Bucky speaks up.

“Yeah, I’m—”

You feel bad, but you have to cut him off.

“Okay, great. Meet me at the Deli down the street from Steve’s studio at 12 sharp. My treat.”

Bucky chuckled on the other end. “Your treat? What do you need from me?”

You smile despite the situation. “Just your brain.”

“Sure you don’t want Banner or Stark for that one?”

“I’m sure,” the woman was giving you her last angry glare. You had to go. “See you then, Buck.”

“Looking forward to having my brain probed. Bye, Y/N.”

You hang up, thank the lady, and make your way back upstairs as fast as you can. 12:00 can’t come quick enough.

Bucky wonders what you want to talk to him about as he drives a company truck to the deli and parallel parks a couple blocks down. The flatbed of the truck is filled with mismatched pieces of junk, from broken computers to the plastic from the top of a printer. It’s all stuff that can be broken down and reprocessed at a plant.

The city is taking down an old building and putting a new office building up in its place. It’s Bucky’s job as the assistant to take all the not-so-useless junk and dispose of it somewhere where it can be reused.

He doesn’t have to be at the plant until two, and he finished loading everything up early, so he has about two hours or so to spare.

Walking into the Deli, he’s hit with a wave of merciful heat and he immediately pulls his coat off. The deli is small with few patrons a small line for take-out. One woman is sipping an iced coffee through a straw while she types madly on a computer. Two men are sitting at a table wearing yellow vests and eating huge subs. Bucky wonders if he would have ended up as one of them, working for the DPW if he hadn’t begun working with the demolition company.

It takes him barely a moment of looking around to find Y/N sitting in a corner flanked by two windows with an empty seat across from her. There’s a wrapped sandwich and a water sitting on the table in front of the other seat.

She’s smoothing out the wrapper of her own sandwich as if the creases in the paper wrapping are offending and should not be allowed to exist.

“Hey,” he says, walking over and taking a seat in front of her.

She looks up at him and smiles. “Hey,” she shoots back, and then nods to the sandwich. “Got you a BLT.”

Bucky’s suspicions are steadily growing. He pulls the paper from around the sandwich and lays it on the table as Y/N had done, though he couldn’t care less about the creases. He looks between the sandwich and the girl, eyeing both with the suspicion of someone who thinks he’s being played.

“What’s this about?” he asks.

She swallows and puts her sandwich down, looking like she’s about to ask him a ground-breaking, life-changing question. Her eyes quickly flick over to his arm and he’s suddenly very sure he knows what this is about.

But that’s strange. Yesterday—or really early this morning—he was talking to Y/M/N about him having been in the military. Now Y/N is eyeing his arm like she really wants to ask what happened but she doesn’t want to sound impolite.

Then there’s the fact that they’re both editors. That’s weird. And how Y/N reminds him of Y/M/N.

He’s an apopheniac, he has to be. He’s seeing coincidences where there really aren’t any. It’s his brain playing tricks on him. In truth, maybe he just wants this strange girl to be Y/N. Though, probably not. Then again, maybe this whole time he thought he was jealous of Y/N for being so close to Steve, he was really jealous of Steve for being so close to Y/N.

That thought derails him so fast that he doesn’t hear it when Y/N actually asks her question.

She lets out a breath as if it’s a load-off to finally ask him, and he’s struck with the realization that if he says he didn’t hear her, she probably won’t take it well. He waits for her to say something else, but when she doesn’t he takes a leap of faith based on her glance at his arm.

“You want to know how I lost my arm,” he says, rather than asks. If her expression of shock and discomfort is any indication, he’s screwed up.

Big time.

Shit.

“I mean,” she straightens in her chair. “I guess—it’s sorta part of it? Yeah.”

She sounds so lost and he feels so bad.

He still has no idea what her original question was though. ‘Part of it.’ His thoughts drift back to his earlier conversation with the girl he’s been talking to over text. The military. Could that be what Y/N wants to know about?

No, it’s just too weird. There’s no way. But he has to know.

“The military? You want to know about the military?”

She nods, looking slightly guilty. “Yeah,” he tries not to let his breath of relief show, “I—uh, fact-checking. I’m fact-checking an article.”

Bucky nods slowly, sandwich forgotten. She’s a terribly liar. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Sitting back as if she’s been punched in the gut, she blinks once, twice, three times—“I’m not lying.”

“Your body language gives you away.”

“Is that something you learned in the military?”

Bucky chuckles. “That’s something I learned from a whole lot of spy movies. Seriously, why do you want to know?”

She takes a bite of her sandwich and speaks around it. Altogether, not the most sexy, but that’s okay.

“Research,” she says slowly.

Bucky creases his eyebrows. “For?”

“For a project?”

“If you’re going to lie, at least lie with conviction,” Bucky says. “One of these days, I’m going to teach you how to lie the right way.”

Laughing, she pulls her chair in a little more and sits forward. The picture of seriousness, she says, “Alright, if I tell you, you need to promise me you won’t tell Steve.” She sounds reluctant to tell him at all. This must not have been her plan.

Bucky draws a cross over his heart with his index finger. “Cross my heart or hope to die.”

She shakes her head. “Gotta be stronger than that. You have to pinkie promise.”

He gasps dramatically. “Not a pinkie promise. This must really be serious.”

Reaching over, she swats his arm. “Buck, I’m serious.”

“Okay, okay,” he surrenders, holding up his pinkie. She links hers with his and he’s momentarily struck by how soft her skin is. Then it’s over. “Tell me.”

She steels herself, he can see it. Jeez, it must really be something serious or she wouldn’t be swearing him to secrecy using childish, yet efficient tactics. It strikes him that she tells Steve everything, same as him, so for her to say she doesn’t want him to know must mean it’s not necessarily something good.

He lets himself think for a moment that she might be about to confess that she’s the mystery girl he’s been texting. It’s much more likely, though, that she’s about to tell him she’s got feelings for Steve or something.

Steeling himself as well, he waits as she takes a deep breath.

“I may or may not—”

“You may,” he corrects. She glares at him.

“—have answered a text from a guy who was trying to text someone else—”

This is where Bucky stops listening and his internal monologue becomes one word:

Fuck.

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hollygopossumlovesj2 · 7 years ago

Text

Swept Away, Part 1

Characters: Dean Winchester (23 years old, so preseason 1), Reader. (future x reader) mentions of John, Sam and Reader’s family.

Warnings: ANGST, Dean’s self worth problems, severe injury, canon level violence. Mention of medications for pain and anxiety. Also, abuse of John Winchester’s parenting skills. This part is PG-13 but will be at least R in future parts. (Also credit to whoever made the gif, its not mine. I found it on Google.)

Summary: John sends Dean to the mountains of Agness, Oregon alone to track a possible werewolf. What he finds turns out to be a little more than he can handle. Dean is left wondering if his father set him up to fail.

A/N: So, this was written for @mamaredd123‘s Angst Appreciation Day Challenge, Shred All the Hearts. My prompt was to use the song ‘Listen to Your Heart’ by Roxette and to rip peoples hearts out. I hope I deliver on this request. I’m late as hell and I deeply apologize. This is only the first part, but there is plenty of angst here to enjoy.

I know there's something in the wake of your smile. I get a notion from the look in your eyes, yea. You've built a love but that love falls apart. Your little piece of heaven turns too dark.

It was a sunny, warm day in Agness, Oregon, and you couldn’t get a Roxette song out of your head. You had no idea why it was stuck on replay, but it wasn’t unusual for your brain to taunt you in this way. Wisps of thin clouds that look like they've been painted on a bright blue sky float by on a cool breeze. A promise that the temperature will drop nearly thirty degrees when the sun goes down due to the proximity of the mountains. You like the feeling of freedom that the place gives you, but you could do without the dramatic drops in temperature.

Your house sitting while your grandparents are spending the summer touring Europe. Being a junior in college, and accepting anything that would give decent pay, you are actually enjoying your alone time. Whether you are home in Seattle, Washington or at school at Washington State in Pullman, you are constantly surrounded by people.

Out here, in your grandparent’s cabin on the bank of the Rogue River, it's peaceful. You found yourself sitting on the deck most days, typing away at the book you've been writing for a year now. But, you can't expect much else from an English major with aspirations of publishing your many adventures one day, can you?

You don't really want for anything out here, except for maybe a Starbucks. You drive an hour out to buy a couple of weeks’ worth of groceries and that is your quota fill of socializing. If you are feeling extra adventurous, you stop at the Olive Garden on the route back home.

Agness is a small town, filled with mostly retired couples and the occasional tourist. From your trips into the quaint downtown to get your Starbucks fix in the form of a glass bottled Frappuccino, you’d met pretty much everyone in the neighborhood.

The residents all treat you like you are their own grandchild, dropping off meals and baked goods regularly. There is also Dr. Marjorie Foster, a divorcee who likes to pop by after crazy days at the hospital to share a bottle of wine and sarcastic banter. So, although you are technically alone, you feel rather safe and spoiled.

Listen to your heart when he's calling for you. Listen to your heart there's nothing else you can do.

That's probably why you were drawn to the black Chevy Impala parked to the left of the small parking lot. It was parked beneath a copse of trees, like the big black beauty could ever be inconspicuous. Add that to the silver scratches all along its side and hood, plus the flat tire that was sitting on its rim, made it even harder to miss.

Maybe it's your insatiable curiosity that makes you walk a little closer to the damaged vehicle? It does tend to get you into a lot of trouble. You'd probably never know for sure. But you won't forget your first look inside.

The upholstery is slashed open, bits of yellow foam and tufts of heavy cotton are strewn about. But what catches your attention is the motionless heap in the back seat that you know, just by the sinking feeling in your gut, is a person who needs help.

You won't remember how you closed the distance between you and the car so quickly. Or your train of thought when you try to open the door only to discover it locked. You wrap your over shirt over your arm and put your elbow through the window without hesitation. You'll question your strength later.

By now Gregory, Matilda's husband (the one who makes incredible venison stew), stops pumping gas to see what all the commotion is about. You are already digging through the seat stuffing and blankets by the time he arrives behind you.

You faintly hear him speaking to someone on the phone, reporting in a panicked yet succinct tone to emergency officials, when you finally find bloody, pale skin. Luckily, it's attached to a person who is unfortunately torn to shreds.

“Hey!” You don't dare move him. Isn't that one of the basic rules in case of a back or neck injury? When the final blanket is pulled back you see the sharp jaw and hint of rose gold stubble. “Sir, can you hear me?” Your only response is a growled groan muffled by the seat where he has his face buried. But, at least it's something, right?

You take a quick survey of the inside of the car, noting used bandage papers and an empty bottle of cheap whiskey. When you climb into the car and sit down, your foot kicks an old bottle of pills. Was the man suicidal? All of this blood loss, whisky and upon looking at the label you discover that it is Darvocet. That stuff had been pulled off the market for years now!

“Hey, you with me?” He eases himself painfully slow into a sitting position, causing him to cry out hoarsely in pain. His voice already shredded like he had already done some screaming. He's panting in loud, painfully abrupt breaths through his open mouth. Everything about his boyish face is pinched with pain. Your heart squeezes with sympathy and absolute helplessness. You should've gone to med school like your dad wanted you to. Then you'd know exactly what to do.

You note then that his front side doesn't look any better than his blood soaked back does. It also revealed how his left leg is mangled and twisted in unnatural directions. Some of the blood is dried, making his skin stick to the seat. There’s no telling how long he'd been in this car bleeding and in pain.

“T’ll S- S’mmy, ‘m s-s’rry.” When you finally lock onto his ghost pale face, the expression there kicks you right in the stomach with a steel toed boot. His split bottom lip and chin are quivering with repressed emotion. His voice comes out shaky and raspy because he's vibrating with shivers that you know probably mean that he's in shock. He's probably been in shock for a while.

I don't know where you're going and I don't know why, but listen to your heart before you tell him goodbye.

This guy, because man seemed like a bit much since he couldn't be much older than you, may very well have been trying to end it all if the pain openly displayed on his face is anything to go by. Through the black, crusted blood you can tell with startling clarity the difference between the physical and emotional pain on his expressive face.

You fight the urge to push his hair out of his eyes, which is obviously overgrown from a short haircut. It appears that way, anyway, judging by the shaggy and uneven ends. He looks like even his hair follicles hurt, caked in crusted and congealing blood, so you refrain.

“You're gonna tell him yourself.” You answer firmly as you wrap the scratchy, stiff blanket back over his shoulders when he shivers again violently.

Even that small movement prompts deeply hurt, wounded noises that get caught in the back of his throat, but you can tell that he's trying to hide just how much pain he’s in.

It makes you briefly wonder how someone who should be going to college or discovering themselves learned to be that damned stoic. “Hang in there, helps on the way. Is there anyone I can call for you?” You plead, wishing that the ambulance would hurry so that there was a way to eventually rectify the abject misery on his face. He's looking at you through his pain filled gaze as he softy answers ‘no’ and it rips your heart out. You feel inept and helpless.

Sometimes you wonder if this fight is worthwhile. The precious moments are all lost in the tide, yea. They're swept away and nothing is what it seems, the feeling of belonging to your dreams.

“An’ m’dad, too. T-t’ll m’s-srry I c’dn’t f-finish th’ j’b.” Liquid that has been building up in his eyes soon gives way to fat tears that tracks strange patterns through the new and old blood when he can't hold them back anymore. As he confesses what he thinks are his last words through busted, numb lips, it makes an icy shiver skip down your spine. “…’ts m’ f-fault… p-people ‘r g’nna die ‘causa m-me…” Tears progress into hiccupping sobs that make him squeeze his eyes shut against what you feel he thinks of as weakness and pain.

You look briefly for a wallet or phone, finding the latter on the floorboard. You get two seconds to feel victorious before you discover that there is a giant tooth mark in the middle, cracking the small screen into unusable pieces. “Shit.” Just what the hell had he gotten into that would cause so much damage? “What's your name?” You look for somewhere uninjured to rest a reassuring hand but can't find anywhere promising.

“Dean W’nchester.” You'll realize later how profound it is that he gave you his real name. That it was because all of his layers and walls were stripped down to nothing.

You know his bottomless green-hazel eyes will haunt you for the rest of your life if he doesn't make it. There was no other ending that you can bear to imagine for him. You know it sounds so naïve, but someone with this much soul can't just die such a horrific death all alone. You feel a small amount of relief when you can finally hear the sirens of the ambulance in the distance.

“They'll be here any second.” As you say the words you're not sure who you're trying to console more.

There's an hour drive to the nearest hospital in Gold Beach in his future. It's a small hospital that is the size of maybe two Costco warehouses shoved together. But surely, amongst their few floors of equipment and educated staff, they can fix the broken pieces?

In the two seconds of silence you decide that you can be positive enough for the both of you.

“Dean Winchester?” You rest your hand lightly over the one he isn't using to prop himself up. It startles you when his cold sweat covered hand grasps yours back painfully tight. The way he clings to you like you're a lifeline make tears pool in your eyes. “You're gonna make it. I promise.”

Dean’s POV:

I wake up suddenly, claws and massive, drooling jowls snap viciously at me from behind deep, shifting shadows. It feels like the beast is sitting on my chest, making it cave in. It's putrid, hot breath on my face. My ribs barely put up a fight before they snap like twigs beneath its weight, white hot, stabbing pains through my belly.

I try to struggle free but my arms and legs won't obey my commands for them to move. To fight back. So, all I can do is wait for him to consume me for dinner. All I hear are growls and distant shouting that are drowning out a strange, tinny beeping noise in the background. It reminds me of the sound of its claws digging into Baby’s quarter panel as it tried to peel her open and drag me back out into the dark of the mountain. Of the liquid heat of pain as it's claws raked through my skin like I was soft butter.

But then I hear, “Dean.” It kind of sounds like Sammy before his voice changed, soft and kind, if a little static and warped. But that can't be right. I hope that it means that the past few years were a nightmare, but it's only a slight hope. Good things rarely happen to a Winchester.

It's probably some newly created fresh hell conjured to torture and destroy me in my last seconds on earth. The thing I was hunting was a were wolf, I was sure of it. He looked normal, all wolfed out with gray, wiry hair. But when it found me… It was like his senses and strength were beyond what a normal were was capable of.

But it's too tempting not to answer, even if it's not real, as the tinny noise gets louder and more frantic. I'd give anything to be able to talk to Sam and tell him how sorry I am. I'd kill to tell him that I would stand up to Dad more so that we don't have to move around so much. So he can go to college close by. Anything. I can be better so he wants to come back.

The crushing weight of remembering that I'm alone nearly drowns out the relief of hearing Sam's voice. But I'm just that delirious to believe.

“S’mmy?”

I gag, choking on something that tastes a lot like old blood and cotton balls stuck in my throat. I finally get my arm to move so that I can remove whatever is clinging to my face. So that I can catch my breath but something heavy slams into my forehead.

“Dean. Hey, Dean! Please stop, you're gonna hurt yourself.”

And just like that all the fight drains out of me, envisioning a young Sammy with his stupid floppy hair and worry bright little kid eyes that are way too smart for his own good. “K, S’mmy. M’ s’rry.”

“You're okay. Everything's gonna be okay.” I feel the softest pressure against my temple and fingers brushing through my hair before I tunnel into nothingness.

When I wake up the second time the beeping doesn't sound so tinny. With the way my body and head aches, it actually sounds like its right in my ear. Fuck. I hope Sam got the license plate number off the damn truck that mowed me over. We were gonna sue the hell outta that bastard.

But what if he ran over Sam or Dad?

At that thought, my eyes shoot open and I'm moving before I even know what's weighing me down. I manage to drag my legs over the side of the bed just as a nurse comes running in.

“Mr. Winchester, please! Stop-“

However, I've already got the momentum going apparently and drop like a bag of damn rocks to the hard linoleum floor just as I realize my leg is encased in a large, heavy cast and incapable of holding my weight. Ugh. I didn't even want to know what kind of germs I was sitting in!

Belatedly, like a flame starting as a tiny spark only to turn into licking blaze-like pain engulfed me for an undeterminable amount of time. Like it had fought through the pain killers just for the joy of kicking my ass. I made sure not to panic. I had been in this headspace before, and nothing could be gained by losing my shit.

The first thing I vaguely noticed as the pained haze started to morph into a deep chasm of an entire body ache was a strange warmth crawling down my arm and thigh. Upon further investigation I discovered that I had managed to pull out both my iv catheter and my pee bag. Just fucking lovely.

The nurse with the pretty milk chocolate skin and curves enough to make a grown man weep had a look of deep sympathy on her doe features. “Well, welcome back to the world Mr. Winchester. Let's get you cleaned up, huh?”

I was beyond grateful that she didn't coo or fawn over me, saving what was left of my pride. However, there wasn't going to be much left for long.

What’s more embarrassing than getting a sponge bath from a beautiful woman in a totally not sexy way? It's having those same color rich eyes look at you with pity when you tell her for the millionth time that you don't have anyone to call while reinserting a catheter. Into your dick.

If I was hunting with Dad or Sam it would be up to me to sneak outta here and meet up at the first motel in the phone book. But that was why I was laid up in bed, wasn't it? Because Dad trusted me with a job and I'd gotten myself taken outta the game in the recon phase. Pathetic. It kinda makes a person unmotivated to move at all.

Honestly, I can't even remember how I got my dumb ass back to the Impala. 23 years of following my Dad around and apparently I had learned nothing from him. Even my memory was shot to hell, fuzzy and useless.

I drifted in and out as Octavia, who turned out not to be a nurse, but a third year intern, filled me in on my injuries. I lost count of how many stitches they'd done and how aggressively they'd had to treat my wounds with heavy iv antibiotics. She wasn't telling me anything I hadn't been through before, but I nodded along like I was concerned just the same.

Which, to be honest, wasn't all that hard because the memory of how these injuries were given to me appeared in flashes of red and black.

It wasn't too damning until she told me about my leg being broken. Which, hello! Cast! They'd been able to put a regular bone pin in my tibia, and she assured me that I'd be transitioning into a weight bearing boot in a couple of weeks.

Then, there was my right arm. Ha! They had to reset my shoulder (but honestly the damn thing had been out of joint at least three times already. No big deal.) there was a single break in my fore arm, which alright, no big. But it was just my luck that my trigger finger and thumb had been heavily bruised and had tiny hairline fractures on both of them.

Fuck.

Where was I gonna go? What was I gonna do when they inevitably kicked my homeless ass out of here? I didn't have enough money for pain meds, much less heavy duty antibiotics! And I'd be damned before I called my Dad to tell him how epically I failed at the hunt. At being a human being in general.

How was I gonna finish the hunt?

And my trigger finger was fucked!

Distantly I registered that stupid heart monitor beeping shrilly. God damnit, how could I have gotten myself into this mess?

“Calm down, Mr. Winchester.” Octavia sounded infinitely patient but firm as she adjusted the drip rate on my iv bag. I instantly start to feel calmer and I couldn't drum up enough energy to be indignant, sure that I was being given a sedative. If anything, I'd embrace the big black nothing just to not have to feel.

After a few moments I felt my heart rate slow, a cloud of comfort falling over me and making my problems a distant memory even though I knew they were right on the surface.

“Well, sugar, you do have a visitor. Now that you're back to your handsome self, do you want me to bring her back?” Her tone of voice was warm as she regarded me with her hands on her hips. I so wanted to say something flirty, maybe flash her a grin like I'd done to win over many a witness. I just didn't have the energy.

Sam had called it disgusting. I'd said flirting was my super power. Then Sam had said that ‘being a manwhore is not a super power.’

Aside from that, I couldn't figure out what she meant by visitor. Was it possible that Dad or… or maybe even Sam? But he'd have to be damn psychic.

She must've read the confusion all over my face. I could hear my father’s voice right in my ear, ‘Need to work on that poker face, son. You're gettin’ sloppy.’ Yeah, if he only knew.

“I would make time in this busy schedule of yours. Another couple of hours in that car and you wouldn't have made it if it wasn't for Y/N.” She was somehow stern while maintaining a kind face that I was afraid to cross. At my nod of agreement, she smiled wide. “Good boy.”

I vaguely remembered a girl climbing in Baby and helping me to sit up. Which had caused a whole hell of a lotta unnecessary pain if you asked me. But she had spoken in a soft voice and held my bloody hand. Maybe she'd even promised that I would live after I'd sat there and blubbered like an infant.

Still, no matter how relaxed I was, I wasn't prepared for the amount of beautiful that breezed through that doorway behind Octavia. In fact, I'm pretty sure my mouth was hanging open when Octavia spoke to me again in an amused tone.

“You just use that call button if you need anything, okay?” And then she was backing out with a smile and leaving me alone with… God, it was juvenile to think, but how could she be so striking? I was all for appreciating natural beauty, but her features stood out as exotic. Like she belonged in the wild with her long, wavy hair flowing behind her.

“Hey, Dean Winchester. You look a little better than you did a few days ago.” Her smile was warm and a little flirty as her lips formed the words and I struggled to comprehend them for a moment.

“A few days?” I managed to get out through my scratchy throat.

The smile fell as she bit her bottom lip when she nodded to confirm my fear. “It's actually been a couple of weeks. They were worried you wouldn't wake up again. That maybe you'd lost too much oxygen to your brain and caused some damage.”

Ha, now Dad could officially call me brain damaged! If he ever managed to find out about this little accident. Which he wouldn't if I had any say in the matter. It's not like he checked in very often nowadays. He was still brooding over Sam leaving and being stuck with the stupid son.

In fact, I wouldn’t put it past him to have sent me out on my own in hopes that I would get eaten. “Sorry to disappoint, Dad.” I muttered and felt the sardonic smile curl a side of my lip upward before I realized she was still here. “Sorry.” There was nothing left for me to do but close my eyes and feel my face flush in helpless embarrassment. Because that's just what I was. Helpless and in a medicated fog. I didn't even have the energy to pretend, not enough brain power to say ‘sorry, sweetheart’ with some kind of move to make her forget she ever saw me like this.

“Well, anyway.” I heard her steps move closer and opened my eyes to watch her swap out some dying flowers for a fresh bundle of purple like she'd been doing this all week. Maybe she had? The renewed scent of lavender filling the room and blocking out some of the hospital antiseptic was familiar. “I'm glad you're awake and getting better.”

She then sat down on the chair that was already perched close to the side of the bed with even more familiarity than the flowers. My mind immediately jumped to the Sammy-like voice that I'd heard before. “You were in here the first time I woke up.” I didn't mean for it to sound as accusatory as it did, but I was horrified that this girl kept seeing me in a vulnerable position over and over.

“Yes.” She didn't sound the least bit remorseful, maybe she was even a little defiant. “You were dreaming about being attacked. I felt so bad when they came in to sedate you, but you were gonna tear out your stitches.” She actually did look like she'd been worried and I couldn't figure out why she would be sitting at some strangers bedside wasting energy on worrying over them.

“How are you allowed in here anyway? Isn't it family only or some crap like that?” I was clearly lashing out and defensive because I was uncomfortable, but that doesn't mean I could stop it.

“Well, sorry to break it to you, but this place is smaller than Mayberry and I happen to have some connections.” She obviously meant that to be funny, but as the tone of my face didn't change, she straightened up in her seat. “I can go, if you want.” Why did she have to look so earnest and sweet, flashing puppy dog eyes so much like my little brothers? Only, they were the wrong shade of brown. “I actually used to volunteer here for a few summers. So, I kind of know everyone.” Her eyes brightened a little, “but that means I know where they stash the extra jello.”

“Well, I guess you can stay then, sweetheart.” The meds were messing with me, but I did manage to flash her a grin. If I were a stronger person I would've turned her away, but just a little human contact couldn't hurt, right? My father already thought I was a failure, might as well go for broke.

So, she stayed. Since I wasn't much for conversation, she mostly told me everything about herself. About college, what she was studying and summer break. (And didn't that hurt, thinking of Sam preferring to hang out with kids his own age instead of contacting me) About house sitting for her grandparents and what a ‘lovely’ little town Agness was.

Despite being on the knifes edge of explicit pain, I found her voice calming. I dozed off a few times, much to my embarrassment, but she didn't seem to mind. She only picked up where she left off.

When my first meal since I couldn't even remember arrived in the form of cream of wheat and beef broth, she got up to leave. She patted the top of my head softly, a move I would've found irritating if it hadn't felt so good. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

I even let her get close enough to kiss my cheek before she left and it was a pattern she continued to follow. I let her smooth down my hopeless hospital hair because it felt so damn good to be touched. I didn’t trust that I would see her again. But, I did.

Every few days she would replace the flowers without question and smuggle in extra Jello in her bag. I got used to her coming and was horrified that I looked forward to listening to her banter on without asking me 20 (painful) questions about my life.

The one day she didn't show up was actually a little devastating. The only thing that rectified the whole ordeal was that she'd texted Octavia to tell me she wouldn't be in. Octavia was the one to sneak in an extra pudding that night. I appreciated it, even though she brought the sugar free kind.

On top of being denied what I'd started to affectionately call my ‘candy striper time’, I was bombarded by financial services. They were looking for identification and insurance. Which I had neither.

The white haired, plump representative lady had left very disappointed. And I started to feel even more antsy. They were weaning me off of the iv pain killers onto pills with less strength. I could still feel the hum of muted pain through my body, but I couldn't bring myself to say a word.

The lady returned with another clip board later that day and I felt my face flush red as my blood pressure sky rocketed. She must've seen how irritated (anxious) I was because she explained immediately.

“Well, I had no idea you were a cousin of Y/N’s!” She paused for a moment, watching me expectantly for a reaction. When I gave her none, which what was I supposed to say? Yeah, being cousins is great! Did I even have real cousins?

She handed over the clipboard and pen and pointed out what I needed to fill out and where I needed to sign. Ha, like my signature actually meant anything! When I was finished with that, she flipped the page over and instructed me to fill out the form beneath it.

“The Y/L/N’s are very influential around here in the West Oregon and Washington areas. You're very lucky to be a part of that family, young man. All of your medical services will be covered. So, you make sure you keep those recheck appointments.”

I gave her an attempt at a smile, but I'm sure it fell flat. The best thing about it was that she didn't stick around for long.

After she left, I passed the rest of my time going between wondering how Sammy was doin and why Y/N had really picked me as a charity case. Which, come on, it wasn't like she picked me for my swollen face and sexual prowess. There had to be a catch.

It was somewhere around day 21 when Y/N came wheeling in with a wheel chair and an expectant look on her face. The days had been slipping by in a blur of all manner of people poking and prodding. If it weren’t for the open blinds on the window, I wouldn’t have a clue.

“I'm springing ya, Winchester.”

I'd spent the entire day in fear of those words. Where was I supposed to go? The impala wasn't moving without a lot of tender loving care and she was parked right in the middle of town. I couldn't just stay there and wait it out until I could move again.

“Already?” I managed, my voice was still scratched all to hell. It made me sound like I was going through freaking puberty again. Oh well, just add that to the list of shit happens. “I haven’t even called my ride yet.”

She smiled brightly, like seriously, how were her teeth so white? “I’m your ride.”

And how could I argue with that? ‘No, that’s okay, my Dad’ll show up. I promise?’ Or maybe, ‘Hey, my brother isn’t too far south from here. He could totally be here in a day…’

So, against my better judgement and all of my instincts telling me that this was ridiculous… I let her lead the way for better or for worse.

Tagging: @mamaredd123, @perpetualabsurdity, @maileann, @daydreamingintheimpala, @gecko9596, @gemini75eeyore, @jotink78, @dancingalone21, @winchesterprincessbride, @sandlee44, @exploratiionist, @arryn-nyxx , @littledarlinhavefaithinme, @tiffanycaruso, @boredoutofmymindstuff, @feelmyroarrrr, @raeganr99, @ruprecht0420, @anokhi07, @letsgetyourdeanon, @sis-tafics, @jensen-gal, @theoneandonlysaucymo, @27bmm, @callmesatansprincess, @hbenth, @atc74, @ryansgirl5509, @mysteriouslyme82, @notnaturalanahi, @keepcalmandcarryondean, @sea040561, @just-another-busy-fangirl, @spn67-sister, @tas898, @wheresthekillswitch, @glendagiggles, @mandymoiselle1970

If you would like to be on this list (or off), let me know! Also, I’d love if you took the time to let me know what you think so far. This story will have at least one more part, possibly two.

#shred all the hearts #mama's shred all the hearts challenge #angst appreciation day #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fan fiction #dean #dean winchester and reader #young dean winchester #mamaredd123 #swept away #swept away part one #to be continued

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