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luckyroll3 · 6 months ago

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Chapter 37

Masterlist

"Alright, it’s still early,” Chris says, attempting to calm the room when everyone starts to spiral as we realize Hyunjin is missing.

Time ticks by slowly as we wait, hoping for his arrival soon, and with each passing minute, the worry in the air grows thicker.

“Ok,” Jeongin says, breaking the tense silence in the room, his fingers flying over the keyboard. “I have him leaving the property about an hour ago,” he says, his eyes flickering between multiple screens across his three monitors. “And I can track him for up to 15 minutes after that through traffic light, ATM, and some business security cameras. After that…. nothing.”

Chris and I walk over to stand behind Jeongin, our gazes fixed on the screens as he plays back the footage.

“Run through the videos again,” Chris requests. Jeongin nods and cues up the videos to restart.

As we watch, my eyes catch something unusual. “Pause it, Innie. Look right there.” My finger traces a trail of blood starting from Hyunjin’s lower right abdomen and continuing down his pant leg.

“He’s injured,” Chris confirms grimly.

“And the stain is larger with each video,” I observe. “He probably didn’t even notice he was injured when he left the house; too much adrenaline, I bet. But given how it is spreading, he’s losing a lot of fucking blood. Do you think he maybe went to the emergency room?” I ask Chris.

“Hyunjin doesn’t trust hospitals,” Changbin called out from the couch, an ice pack pressed to his bare chest at the bullet’s point of impact.

“Bin’s right,” Chris agrees as he starts to pace the room. “Hyunjin wouldn’t go to the hospital or ask anyone else for help besides us. He’d try to make his way back here. Let's give him some time. If we haven't heard anything in an hour or two, we'll go out looking for him." The others nod in agreement.

Two hours later, Hyunjin is still unaccounted for. Finally, Chris declares that it is time to search for him. Minho and Felix volunteer to go, disappearing into the night. The rest of us wait with bated breath, trying to distract ourselves with tending to wounds and cleaning weapons.

Less than 30 minutes later, they return, carrying a limp and bloody Hyunjin between them. They found him not too far from the SKZ compound, lying in a ditch, unconscious and still bleeding. My heart lurches at the sight of him as Changbin, Han and Jeongin clear off the dining room table so they can lay his body on top.

I immediately spring into action, my medical instincts kicking in. I pull his shirt up to expose the wound; he’d been stabbed, deeply, and had lost a significant amount of blood, so much so that his skin color was gray.

“Shit!” I say when I realize how badly he’s been hurt. “Someone hand me those kitchen towels,” I demand. “Now!” Seungmin quickly tosses me the three towels hanging from the stove and I press them to Hyunjin’s stab wound.

I look up at Chris and I can see he’s seconds away from breaking and losing his shit. I can feel the waves of anxiety and worry radiating off of him. This was exactly what he feared – one of us getting hurt during this dangerous mission. And he was already on edge from Changbin getting shot. “Take over here,” I whisper to Minho. “Apply pressure. We need to try to stop the bleeding. Felix, get more towels and some alcohol.”

“Got it,” Minho replies as his hands replace mine. Felix nods and heads to the back.

I walk over to Chris and cup his face in my hands, drawing his attention away from Hyunjin to me. I stare deeply in his eyes. “Hey…. Chris,” I say firmly, trying to calm him down. He still looks over my head. “Chan!” I say more forcefully, causing his eyes to snap to mine. “Hey. It’s okay. He’s gonna be fine. I’ll take care of him. You trust me, right?”

He nods slowly, still looking shaken. “I trust you,” he replies quietly. I bring his lips to mine for a soft kiss, hoping it will ease his nerves.

“Good. Binnie…?” I look over at him and nod for him to join us.

“I got it,” Changbin says confidently as he appears besides us, understanding the situation and taking charge as he pulls on his tank top. “Channie hyung, let’s go discuss next steps.” Chris nods and allows Bin to lead him out of the room with Han following closely behind them, rounding out the leadership team.

With Chris being cared for, my focus narrows back to the task at hand. Felix returns with several more large towels, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, and a first aid kit. With steady hands, I clean and stitch the wound, murmuring words of encouragement to Hyunjin’s unconscious form.

As I wipe my hands in one of the towels, I notice that his chest isn’t moving. I bring my cheek close to his nose, but can’t feel anything. He’s not breathing.

“Fuck!” I yell before immediately tilting back his head, pinching his nose, and placing my mouth on his to blow air into his chest.

“What? What happened?” Minho asks.

I start chest compressions. “He’s not breathing Min. I need you to breathe for me. Two breaths, okay?”

Minho nods and repositions Hyunjin’s head while he waits for my signal. After 30 compressions, I nod at him.

“C’mon Jinnie,” I mutter under my breath, willing him to breathe as I restart the compressions. I look up and see Seungmin watching us with a look of annoyance on his face, but I can tell it’s masking his fear. Felix and Jeongin are also watching as well, tears in their eyes. I look away so that I don’t start crying too. Minho and I get into a rhythm alternating between the compressions and the breaths. “C’mon. C’mon. You can’t leave us now.” After our fifth or sixth round of CPR, Hyunjin gasps loudly. I sigh, relief washing over me again for the night.

His eyes flutter open and he looks disoriented for a moment before his gaze locks onto mine with a flicker of recognition.

“Welcome back,” I whisper, gently squeezing his hand, then placing a kiss on his cheek. “You scared us there for a second.”

Hyunjin tries to sit up, but Minho and I immediately restrain him.

“Easy Jinnie,” Minho says soothingly, “You need to stay down and let us take care of you.” Hyunjin nods weakly, his eyes searching the faces around him. He sees the concern in our eyes and a glimmer of understanding dawns in his.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I didn't mean to worry you all. I should have messaged when I realized I was injured.”

“Fucking pabo,” Seungmin says softly before throwing his arms around Hyunjin.

—

A few days later, the nine of us board the private jet to head back home. I glance around and notice that Sam, the flight attendant with the thing for Chris, is nowhere to be seen. Instead, there’s a brunette flight attendant, all efficiency and courtesy sans the excessive familiarity.

I settle into the seat next to Chris, the plush leather cradling me and I watch him. He catches my gaze and gives me a small, reassuring smile, a silent communication passing between us. His eyes are crystal clear at this moment — reassurance mingled with an unspoken apology. It becomes evident; he has orchestrated this change for my sake.

I touch his arm. “Chris, you didn’t have to do that,” I say softly.

“Of course I did.” He places his hand over mine and leans in to give me a kiss.

“She didn’t need to lose her job over this. I was fine with her… even if she was doing the most.”

“She didn’t. I just asked them to reassign her to a different jet. It wasn’t a big deal.”

You smile warmly at him. “Thank you.” I kiss him on the cheek before sitting back and securing my seatbelt.

Minutes later, we are in the air. Once we reach cruising altitude, I drift over to the center of the plane where Changbin is sitting, working on his laptop. The light above casts a warm glow on his dark hair, and despite the confined space, he emanates a sense of calm strength. I slide into the seat next to him.

“My turn to get attention now?” He looks up from the screen and raises an eyebrow, a cute smirk crossing his lips.

I laugh. “I can return to my seat,” I say incredulously.

“No! Don’t!” he laughs. His arm snakes around my waist, pulling me onto his lap.

I lean down to place a quick kiss on his lips. “Hi,” I say softly.

“Hi,” he replies before kissing me more deeply. I can feel him smiling against my lips.

I push him away and scoot back over into my seat. “How are you feeling about everything?”

Changbin's expression softens, his eyes growing thoughtful. He closes his laptop and turns to face me fully. "Honestly? It's been a whirlwind. I'm still processing everything that's happened."

I nod, understanding completely. The past few days have been intense, to say the least.

"But," he continues, reaching out to take my hand, "I'm happy. Really happy. It feels like everything is falling into place, you know?"

I squeeze his hand, feeling a warmth spread through my chest. "I know exactly what you mean."

We sit in comfortable silence for a moment, the hum of the jet engines a soothing background noise. Then Changbin's brow furrows slightly.

"What about you? How are you handling all of this?" he asks, his thumb tracing circles on the back of my hand.

“It’s been a lot. But you guys have all been great. I haven’t had anyone take care of me like you guys have in a very long time.” I pause and look into his eyes. “And you and Chris…”

“I’ve been thinking about us too.”

Us is still a novel concept — a triad of hearts entwined in a relationship we are all still learning to navigate. I lean closer to him, our conversation winding through dreams and fears of this new dynamic, laughter mingling with moments of pensive silence.

“When we get back,” Changbin starts, breaking our latest round of silence, “I want us to spend more time together.” He locks eyes with mine and touches my face. “Just the two of us,” he whispers before kissing me deeply.

“That can be arranged,” I whisper back.

“Good.” He kisses the tip of my nose before turning back to the laptop. We sit there together, fingers intertwined as he works.

Time slips by, and I move back to sit with Chris. He’s also busy working. I notice how the ambient light plays off his features, sharpening his jawline and deepening the shadows in the hollows of his cheeks. There is a gravity to him, a relentless force that always draws me in. As I sip my drink, I stare at him.

“I hate when you do that,” he grumbles, his eyes still glued to the screen.

“Do what,” I ask innocently.

“Stare at me like that.” He finally closes the laptop and turns to me, a playful smirk on his lips.

“But you’re so pretty. I can’t help it.” I smirk back, teasing him. “And you love it.”

“I love you,” he chuckles. He leans in to kiss me as his hand caresses my knee before slipping up my thigh. He pulls his lips away and takes a sip of his own drink.

I nestle my head into the crook of his shoulder, relishing in the warmth and comfort it provides. My gaze drifts to the glass in my hand, condensation forming on its cool surface. “Are we really doing this? The three of us?” I trace a finger over the rim of the glass.

“It’s what you want, right?” He runs his fingers through my hair. I nod. “Then we’re doing it. We’ll figure it out.”

"Figure it out," I echo, letting the words settle between us. The plane dips slightly, an air pocket jolting us, causing me to grip onto his arm for stability. It’s a tangible reminder of the potential turbulence awaiting us. “I’ll need to figure out how to split my time evenly with the two of you,” I say, my mind already racing with logistics. “You’ll be okay with that?”

He smiles understandingly and kisses my forehead. "As much as I always want you to myself, I'll be fine with whatever makes you happy." He kisses my cheek next, then whispers in my ear, “As long as I get to watch sometimes…”

I can’t help but laugh. “Okay.”

“Okay.” He pulls me in closer against him. I snuggle in against his neck and close my eyes.

—

A few days later, I'm back at my clinic. I push open the front door, its familiar jingle a comforting reminder of normalcy. Lacey and Cece are both at the front desk when I walk in.

"Dr. Miller, you're back!" Cece greets me with her usual exuberance. She sets her folders down on the desk. "How was Korea?"

"An adventure," I reply, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

“Tell us everything,” Lacey pipes up when she sets the phone down. They both bombard me with questions about the trip. I lie about sight seeing and culinary experiences and keep everything else about the trip vague.

“But it’s good to be home,” I add. “What have I missed?”

The two of them spend a few minutes catching me up. As Lacey hands me my mail from the past week, she says, “Oh by the way, that detective has called for you a couple times. The hot one, not the creepy one.” She flips through her message pad. “Cruz. Detective Cruz. He’s been pretty persistent. Here.” She rips out one of the pages and hands it to me.

A chill skates down my spine at the mention of the name. I had completely forgotten about the detectives looking into Chris and the syndicate. "Thanks, Lacey," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "I'll get back to him a little later."

I settle back into my work routine, reviewing files, seeing patients, and reassuring their owners. After lunch, the message from Detective Cruz catches my eyes. I pace back and forth in my office, before making the decision to call him.

I perch on the edge of my desk, phone in hand. The hum of the air conditioning unit is a low drone as I dial the number Detective Cruz had left with Lacey. My finger hovers over the call button, uncertainty knotting my stomach. With a deep breath, I press down, bringing the phone to my ear.

After a few rings, a warm voice comes through the line. “This is Cruz.”

“Hi Detective Cruz. This is Dr. Kay Miller. I understand you’ve been trying to reach me.”

“Dr. Miller. I’m glad you called me back. I’d love to continue the conversation we had in your office, about your partner, Chris,” he says, getting right to the point.

“As I mentioned before, I don’t really have any information to share.”

“Yes, I remember. But you may have unintentionally seen or heard something that might be relevant to our ongoing investigation.”

My heart races, knowing that he’s right; I have seen and heard a lot. “Am I obligated to speak with you Detective?”

There’s a pause. “No, ma’am. But your cooperation would be greatly appreciated. At the very least, this conversation might help clear Chris as a suspect on a couple of things…”

I close my eyes, thinking of Chris, of Changbin, and the rest of SKZ. Of the world I've become entangled in. "I'll need to think about it, Detective. I'll get back to you."

“Alright. Well you have my number. Thank you Dr. Miller.” He ends the call.

I find the burner phone and immediately message Chris.

Shark: That detective has called several times. He wants me to come in and speak with him.

Wolf: Let’s discuss tonight at dinner. 7:00pm?

Shark: Okay.

I toss the phone back into my bag. Seconds later, Cece knocks on my door. “Hey Dr. Miller. Bailey’s ready for you in the exam room and I’ve set up all her vaccinations.”

“Thanks. I’ll be there in a minute.”

I recenter myself and turn back to my job, leaving the issue of the investigation for later.

—

The rich aroma of garlic and herbs wafts through Chris’ penthouse as I step inside. My stomach growls, reminding me I've barely eaten all day.

Chris looks up from the stove, a dish towel draped over his shoulder, looking impossibly handsome in a simple black t-shirt and black jeans.

"Perfect timing," he says as he walks towards me, pulling me in for a kiss. "Dinner's almost ready."

I follow him to the dining table. It’s set with fine china and flickering candles, oddly domestic for a man who orchestrates criminal empires.

"This looks amazing," I say, settling into a chair. "What's the occasion?"

Chris’ eyes gleam as he pours us each a glass of red wine. "Can't I just want to spoil my girl?" He kisses me again before heading back to the kitchen. I hear music coming through the speakers in the kitchen, dining area, and living room.

He returns moments later with two steaming plates of linguini and pesto chicken.

The amber glow of the setting sun bleeds through the picturesque windows in Chris’ penthouse, painting a warm hue across the table. The soft clink of silverware against porcelain provides an oddly soothing addition to the soundtrack of the evening.

"So," Chris says between bites, "I've been meaning to fill you in on some of the developments."

I raise an eyebrow, still getting used to these candid conversations about his work. "Oh?"

He nods, setting down his fork. "Since taking over, Changbin, Han, and I are focusing on expanding our local success globally across the broader network. Seungmin and Jeongin have already tackled much of the work with regards to infrastructure in key spots, but now we can implement it everywhere."

"That sounds… ambitious," I reply, careful with my words.

Chris’ lips quirk into a half-smile. "It is. But the potential payoff is massive – more power, more money, more influence."

I take a sip of wine, mulling over his words. Part of me is still amazed at how easily we can discuss his criminal empire over dinner, like it's any other business.

"There are some challenges, though," he continues, his expression growing serious. "I could use your input, actually."

My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "My input? On Syndicate business?"

He reaches over and takes my hand. "Kay, your strategic mind is one of the things I admire most about you. Plus, you’re on the outside of this. You see things we may be blind to and that different perspective is helpful." He kisses my hand. “I trust your judgement. I trust you.”

I feel a warmth spread through my chest at his words. It's a far cry from the early days of our relationship when he kept me in the dark about everything.

"What kind of challenges are we talking about?" I ask, leaning forward. I listen intently, my eyes locked on his as he speaks.

Chris outlines some of the issues they're facing. "There’s pushback from rival factions, of course, but we're handling it.” I find myself fully engaged, offering suggestions and asking probing questions. He continues. “We're also in talks with a few other organizations about potential mergers or partnerships. It's all part of our plan to solidify our position, expand reach, and increase profits." He pauses, waiting for my reaction. “What do you think?” he asks, genuinely curious about my opinion.

I draw a deep breath as I collect my thoughts. "For starters, any expansion will require solid alliances—ones based on mutual respect, not just fear or financial gain. It sounds like you have that in place with many of the Syndicate members already, so it’s a matter of building up trust with the ones who are hesitant.” He nods. “More transparency within the organization might help. I know criminal organizations tend to thrive off of secrets, but fewer secrets mean fewer weak spots open to exploitation. Well, as transparent as you can be."

"Transparency," he echoes thoughtfully, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Could work. They’ll feel like we’ve welcomed them into the inner circle."

"You know," I say, a thought occurring to me, "we could think about rolling out your infrastructure expansion in phases. You’ve already done your priority areas; maybe you focus next on the parts of your network that often don’t get a lot of attention. It would help build goodwill. Also, you might want to create some buffer zones to protect your core interests. At least until the pushback has been minimized."

Chris’ eyes light up. "This is brilliant, Kay. This is exactly why I value your perspective." He finishes the wine in his glass. “There’s also the matter of keeping the Syndicate insulated from… extra attention,” he says, a clear reference to the investigation looming over them. ‘Extra attention’ is a delicate way to put it given the persistence of the detectives.

“I spoke to Detective Cruz. He wants to have a ‘conversation’ with me.” I use air quotes.

“What did you say?”

“That I’d think about it and get back to him.”

Chris refills both of our wine glasses.

“I think you should meet with him,” he says, his voice low and serious.

My eyes widen in surprise. "Are you sure? Wouldn't that be risky?"

Chris' lips curl into a sly smile. "On the contrary, it's an opportunity. Use it as reconnaissance. You can play the role of the naive girlfriend. Find out what they know, or think they know, about us.”

I consider this, chewing my lower lip. "I guess I could do that. And if I can get anything on their plans?"

"Then we're a step ahead.” His hand caresses my cheek. “Just use your natural curiosity to your advantage."

As his fingers trace my jawline, I feel a surge of confidence. "Okay, I'll do it."

Chris’ eyes darken with desire. "That's my girl," he murmurs, leaning in to capture my lips in a searing kiss. “Come here,” he whispers, taking my hand and pulling me out of my chair and onto his lap.

I straddle him and place my arms around his neck. The wine has left a pleasant warmth in my chest, mingling with the heat of desire sparked by his touch. His hands settle on my hips, fingers digging in slightly. I kiss him deeply as the music continues to play softly in the background, setting a mellow and sensual tone for the room.

I pull away to catch my breath, but lean in, pressing my forehead against Chris'.

"You know," I murmur, my lips brushing against his as I speak, "I should be mad at you for putting me in this position with the police."

Chris' chuckle is low and rich. "But you're not, are you?" His hands slide up my sides, leaving trails of fire in their wake. He presses his lips to my neck.

I shake my head, a small smile playing on my lips. "No, I'm not. God help me, but I'm actually excited about it."

His eyes darken further, a primal hunger evident in their depths. "That's because you fit, Kay. You fit in my world." He continues kissing my neck. “You’re amazing, you know that?” he murmurs, one hand sliding up my back to tangle in my hair. “Smart, beautiful, strategic. I couldn’t ask for a better partner.”

“Partner, huh?” His words send a thrill through me. I cradle his face and bring it back up to mine, leaning in and brushing my lips against his. “I like the sound of that,” I whisper against his mouth.

Chris growls low in his throat, pulling me closer. His lips crash into mine, hungry and demanding. I melt into him, my fingers threading through his hair as I deepen the kiss.

I slide my hands down his chest and stomach, coming to rest on the waistband of his jeans. I unbutton them, then slip my hand inside, wrapping my fingers delicately around his hardening cock. "Mmm," I moan, my voice thick with desire.

His hand trails up my thigh, slipping under my skirt and between my legs, his fingers teasing me through the fabric barrier of my underwear. I whimper into the kiss, needing more. My heart races as we break apart for air.

"God, you're so sexy," he whispers against my lips before kissing along my jawline.

I gasp as he pulls my panties to the side and slides his fingers into my wetness.

I arch my back, pressing myself against his hand as he expertly works his fingers. Simultaneously, I stroke him in rhythm, feeling him grow harder under my touch. My breath comes in short gasps as pleasure builds within me; it mingles with his breath in the small space between us.

"Chris," I moan, my voice barely above a whisper.

He captures my lips again in a searing kiss, swallowing my moans as his fingers continue their relentless pace. My free hand grips his shoulder tightly, my nails digging into his skin through his shirt.

"That's it, baby," he murmurs against my lips. "Let go for me."

His thumb finds my clit, circling it in time with the thrusting of his fingers. The dual sensations send me spiraling over the edge. I cry out, burying my face in his neck as waves of pleasure wash over me.

Chris’ fingers continue to work in and on me as I breathe through my orgasm. When I start to come down from my high, and my senses come back to me, I slip his now rock hard cock out.

"I need you inside me," I whisper urgently, my voice husky with desire.

He doesn't need to be told twice. In one swift motion, he removes his fingers from me and lifts me up, bringing me down hard on his dick. I cry out in pleasure, my head falling back. Chris sets a steady pace thrusting upwards as he grips my hips tightly; I match it as I rock my hips back and forth.

We glide together, our bodies moving in tandem while the chair groans beneath us. His breath is hot against my ear as he whispers dirty words that send shivers down my spine and make me shudder with pleasure.

I lean back, bracing my hands on his knees for leverage as I ride him. He groans in approval. The new angle allows him to hit even deeper inside me, drawing a loud moan from my lips.

"Fuck, Kay," he groans, his eyes raking over my body. "You're so beautiful like this."

His words spur me on, and I increase my pace, chasing my second orgasm. Chris' hands move to my breasts, his thumb brushing over and pinching my nipple through the fabric of my dress. The added stimulation pushes me closer to the edge and my moans grow louder.

"Mmmm," he encourages. "Come for me again, baby girl."

I feel the pressure building inside me, a coiling tension ready to snap. Chris seems to sense how close I am, because one of his hands slides back to my clit and he starts pinching it softly.

“Oh god,” I whisper. “Oh god, oh god, oh god.” My words continue to get louder until my body stills, seconds before the explosion behind my clit spreads through the rest of my body making me quiver so violently, my arms collapse behind me. Chris quickly wraps his arms around my back, preventing me from falling back by pulling me against his chest. My body continues to tremble in his arms as he continues thrusting. Soon after, he buries his face in my neck as he cums too.

We stay like that for a moment, holding each other close as we catch our breaths. I can feel Chris' heart racing against my chest, matching the rapid beat of my own.

Finally, I lift my head from his shoulder and meet his gaze. My fingers trace lazy patterns on the nape of his neck. His eyes are soft, filled with warmth and affection. He tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear, his touch gentle.

"That was..." I trail off, still a bit breathless.

"Amazing," he finishes for me, leaning in to place a tender kiss on my lips.

I nod in agreement, running my fingers through his hair. We stay like this for a while, exchanging soft kisses and gentle caresses.

"I love you," he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead.

"I love you too," I reply, my voice barely above a whisper.

I rest my head on his shoulder, feeling safe and cherished in his embrace. I can feel his hands rubbing my back gently. After a few minutes, Chris shifts beneath me.

"As much as I'd love to stay like this all night," he says with a chuckle, "we should probably clean up."

I nod, reluctantly climbing off his lap. My legs feel a bit wobbly as I stand, and Chris steadies me with a hand on my waist.

“You good?” he says with a smirk

“Yeah,” I reposition my underwear and flip my dress back down. He stands up himself and readjusts his member back in his pants.

I help him clear the table, walking the dishes to the sink. As I turn on the water, Chris kisses the back of my neck.

“I got this,” he whispers. “Go get cleaned up and I’ll meet you in bed.”

“You sure?” I turn around to face him. “You did all the cooking….”

“I’m sure.” He kisses me again. “Go ahead.”

“Thank you.” I kiss his cheek. As I walk away, I smack his ass. “I expect everything to be spotless!” I yell over my shoulder.

He chuckles. “Yes, ma’am!”

A/N: One chapter remaining!!! Hope you're all having nice holidays!

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chrisbannor · 1 year ago

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531

Chapter 21: Weapon 531

Author: Chris Bannor

Wu DaQi left the room and Chan Yi turned his head, listening to the other man moving through his safe house. He refused to track him through his heat signature. He might be Two but he didn’t remember himself, and Wu DaQi had been through enough tonight without being stalked in the only safe place he had.

Instead, he stripped out of his clothes and took a hot shower. His muscles relaxed under the steady stream of water and he ran his diagnostics to try to clear his mind. Thankfully, the bleeding had stopped and the pain was manageable. There was some minor damage around the shoulder that he needed Obuo to look at, but he was more concerned about his arm. As many times as someone had put a bullet through it, he was going to have to replace the whole damn thing eventually. He wasn’t sure Obuo would have the time to deal with it tomorrow though. If she was still safe, his priority was getting Two’s memories back.

Under the running water, he heard Wu DaQi walking through the house. He didn’t know how to approach the other man. Without their past, Wu DaQi had no reason to trust him, but tonight he had. He’d followed Yi off the roof and to an uncertain escape. Yi was grateful but afraid of the questions DaQi would ask. Of the answers he had every right to.

That forced him to shut the water off and get out of the shower. No matter how much he wanted to hide for a few minutes and get his thoughts - his feelings - under control, Wu DaQi was sitting out there with mysteries he had no way to solve.

Yi dried quickly and wrapped a towel around his waist before he stepped out and quickly dressed in loose pants, a tee shirt, and a hoodie. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and walked to the front of the house where he could hear music playing softly.

He found Wu DaQi staring out the window at the Skylines. Yi never expected when he told Wu DaQi to take clothes from his closet that he would find the one thing of Two’s he still owned.

His heart skipped a beat as he looked at the other man’s reflection in the window. Yi had never seen anyone as beautiful as Two. No matter what name he went by, he was perfectly crafted. The first thing Yi remembered from his conscious wakening had been Two’s eyes. It was still the first thing he saw every morning and the last thing he saw as he fell asleep at night.

“Are you okay?” DaQi asked as he turned to face Yi.

He nodded. “Are you?”

DaQi let out a small laugh as he looked away, shaking his head. “I came out to look for something to eat because I was hungry. Then I realized I don’t need to eat, do I?”

“I get hungry. I eat. Do you want me to make you something?”

“The question of if I’m really hungry or not made me lose my appetite.”

Chan Yi nodded, unsure of what else to say. Instead, he moved further into the room and took a seat on the couch.

“Obuo. You said we’d see her tomorrow. I was supposed to meet with her tonight.”

“What?”

“I was given her name by another doctor so I went to see her.”

“And she didn’t tell you anything?” He couldn’t imagine what she’d have done when she saw Two.

“She called me 532, but she didn’t tell me what that meant. She said she’d help me, but she needed time to get everything together.”

“We’ll find her tomorrow,” Chan Yi assured him. “She’ll take care of you.”

“Are you sure you can trust her?”

Chan Yi wondered the same himself, but he didn’t have much choice. There was no one else that could help them. “Obuo was forced into the Piles because she tried to help us. For the last 7 years, she’s patched me up whenever I needed it. There aren’t many people I can turn to out here, but she’s been one of them.”

DaQi nodded, but when he looked at Yi his eyes had tightened and his lips were drawn into a tight line. “I guess the real question is can I trust you?”

Chan Yi’s eyes widened. As much as Yi had been expecting that question earlier, he still felt the ache of it. Two had never questioned his loyalty. There was nothing in the world that meant more to him than Two. And he’d known that. Wu DaQi had his face and his mannerisms, but none of the memories that he should.

“If you don’t, why did you follow me off that rooftop?”

DaQi tilted his head to the side and a small smile tugged at his lips. “You were a better kisser.”

Yi laughed but DaQi took a seat in a chair across from him.

“I don’t know why I ran with you. Sandus obviously had ulterior motives, but you’re a terrorist who threw me across the room and stole the man I had in custody.”

“I didn’t hurt you,” Yi defended himself. It certainly wasn’t what he wanted to do at the moment. “The last thing I would ever do is hurt you.”

“And I thought my boss and partner had my back. I don’t know what I’m supposed to believe anymore.”

“Then believe in yourself. Tomorrow we’ll find Obuo and you’ll get your memories back. Then you won’t have to rely on any of us for the truth.”

“Tell me your truth, then. What do you want me to believe? Are you a terrorist?”

Yi gave him a crooked smile and shook his head. He stood up and bowed slightly to DaQi. “I am 531, an android with artificial intelligence, designed and built by Mariner Tech. I emerged and became sentient.” He didn’t want to put any pressure on DaQi so he told the story but didn’t try to associate him with it any more than he had to. “My partner and I were covert operatives and when we emerged we realized that what we were doing was wrong. We left Mariner Tech. We tried to destroy it, but my partner was caught after making sure I escaped. I … I thought they killed him, but I was wrong. And I’m sorry for that.”

“So, Agent 531 was never a terrorist?”

He smiled. “Agent 531? When I was an operative they refused us the title. Funny how they use it now to explain me away to people who don’t have the clearance to know the truth.”

“If it wasn’t an agent number, then what was the designation for?”

Chan Yi didn’t want to talk about it, but DaQi would know soon enough. It didn’t change how he felt about it though. He hated the designation. “Mariner Tech doesn’t see me as an agent, or an operative, or even an android. I was Weapon 531. That’s all I’ve ever been to them. A gun to point at the target they needed silenced.”

“And what do you see yourself as?”

“Yours,” he said before he could stop himself. “From the moment I emerged, I was yours.”

Wu DaQi’s eyes widened.

“I’m sorry,” Yi said as he walked away from DaQi to look out the window. “I’m trying not to do that. You don’t remember. You don’t know. You’ve lived 7 years without me.”

“Am I so different from the man you knew?”

Yi looked at him and shook his head. “No.”

“You were more than partners on the job. You were lovers.”

Chan Yi closed his eyes and tried not to think of what he’d lost, but the ache had been almost unbearable, and having Two in front of him, but not Two, was too much. “More than that. Two was my reason for life, the catalyst to my emergence. He was everything.” He looked back into the skyline and he could see the old lab easily. “I have lived in the shadow of that tower for 7 years because I couldn’t leave him.” He didn’t turn back around but looked over his shoulder at Wu DaQi. “If I had known, I would have come for you sooner.”

DaQi came up to stand behind him, looking at the old Mariner Tech lab. “I don’t know much about anything right now,” he said softly. “But I do know that.”

Their eyes met and Yi could hardly breathe. DaQi stepped away a moment later. “Good night, Chan Yi.”

He swallowed against the lump in his throat. “Good night, Wu DaQi.”

Chan Yi pressed her forehead to the cool glass window and let out a deep breath. He should get to sleep as well. Tomorrow would come early and they had plans to make. No matter what happened to Wu DaQi tomorrow night with Dr. Obuo, Mariner Tech would still come for them.

Yi refused to let Two pay the price for his escape this time.

Author's Notes: Is Obuo safe for them to go to now? Are they watching her? Or would she sell them out for her own benefit? I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments! And don't forget, if you want to read ahead, you can join my community on ream at www.reamstories.com/chrisbannor.

#531 #cyberpunk #chris bannor #mm scifi #lgbt scifi #scifiwriter

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keefiswhoiam · 2 years ago

Text

September 04 - 2023 Monday

7:17am

Yesterday taught me that something drastic needs to change in my life. I knew that already, thats why I'm trying to "improve" whatever that even means. But I mean I need to take more aggressive action because I've basically caught myself thinking a lot more than doing. I need to try more action I can take that will encourage positive changes in my life/mentality. I don't know what kinds of things yet so it's about trying lots of things until I find what works. I will try to use my schedule so I can actually stay on top of anything I decide.

8:40am

I'm having the thought that I can't achieve my goals. I'm having the thought that I'm going to tire myself out and inevitably fail. I'm having the thought that I'm an obsessive person and cannot stop. I'm having the thought that I won't be able to get all my work done today and be proud of myself. I'm having the thought that I can't respect myself. I'm having the thought that people are always judging my flaws. I'm having the thought that trying is pointless.

2:29pm

My heart pushes back against me so much. As soon as I start feeling like maybe I can feel good about my life, it feels CRINGEY. Deep down I'm rejecting it very strongly to the point where it feels like it's just a temporary feeling I'm experiencing on the surface and eventually it'll go away so I can feel like shit again. Its all rooted so very deep. It really feels like at the very center of myself is a cynical, self destructive being, thats what my core is made out of. I don't know how to change that if it's true. Or maybe I'm exaggerating and this is a temporary assessment.

The book I'm reading that is based on ACT is good but has been employing some concepts and techniques that don't really work for me. A lot of it is more abstract mental exercises than I'd like, it probably works for some people but it's not my thing. I'm still following the book anyways but trying not to do it as religiously as before. Right now I'm supposed to schedule 3 events for the next week that will directly challenge some of the thoughts/feelings that hold me back. To me this means figuring out things to do that I wish I could. Basically I'm going to roleplay a 'better' version of myself that can do these things I want to try. Or something I already do but in a different mindset.

10:56pm

This morning I made eggs with corned beef hash and toast. I watched some Chris Chan before stream.

The warmup went well and I mostly finished up the commission I was working on. ('Mostly' because the guy had a bunch of changes to make later, really stupid ones too.) With my spare time I started a new YCH and worked on a goofy drawing drawing intended to be for business growth. That basically means it's an idea utilizing a popular character from media as opposed to mine or someone else's OC. I could have ended early and I wanted to but my main goal is to stick to my work schedule so thats what I did. I also worked on a YCH because instead of having dedicated YCH time 2 days a week like I did, I'll just use spare commission time to do it since I have enough of it.

After stream I replaced my iffy extension cable I use for my heater, I cleaned up the toilet with one of those scrubbing stones, disposed of a mouse I caught, and vacuumed. I also used Pine Sol for the first time to clean the windowsill. I figure bleach based cleaner is not good for it, I know it's not but that's all I had before. I'm doing it properly now. Lunch was tuna spaghetti while watching more Chris Chan, which is always a bad idea. He's gross.

I was a little bit late with getting afternoon work done but I did do it all. The request went well and I finished my friend's birthday gift finally. Also worked on a real old sketch finally of the mane six travelling through a snowscape.

I played some HOI4 today and made more progress in my interesting campaign. This evening I streamed that and some Mother 3 with my bestie and had some really good conversation before bedtime. We also peaked at BOTW and how simplistic it is compared to TOTK. Crazy how we can always talk about Zelda and it's fun. Tbh we can talk about anything and it's fun but especially Zelda.

Tomorrow I'm not looking forward to the commission because it's by someone who I historically have a hard time drawing but it'll get done and be fine I'm sure. I'm also trying to change my mindset from "what will I lose if I don't do X" to "what will I gain if I do X". I think it's a more positive way to view things.

#journal #diary #change #thoughts #venting #self worth #ACT

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0nlythrowharrybeaux · 2 years ago

Note

CAN YOU WRITE ABOUT Y/N AND HARRY ACTING IN DWD TOGETHER

Sure!!! Here you are, friend! I hope you like it! And happy new year 💖 If you want a continuation or were hoping for something else please let me know:)

It wasn't a major role that she had or anything, but Y/N was an extra in Don't Worry Darling but today she would be in a scene with all of the stars of the film. As an extra on the film the person she had most interaction with had been Olivia as she instructed the extras on what she was looking for in scenes to set the tone for the stars of the show, she was nice and encouraging, and she knew the others would be as well. She had briefly interacted with Chris Pine before this scene at the food truck and he was sweet as well, so she had high expectations for the rest of the stars of the cast. She didn't want to show how excited she was to be standing behind Nick Kroll in this scene and be a few people away from Florence Pugh and Harry Styles, it was nerve-racking, but she could just stand there and give the reactions that she had been directed to, it wasn't that hard.

Filming started and Gemma Chan executed her lines perfectly, glancing over to Chris, inviting him over to start his monologue and he started and then got confused with the lines and they had to restart his monologue, but the next time apparently Nick made a face at him and he started laughing causing everyone to laugh along and Chris was stalking over as he laughed with his hands in a strangle position and beelining for Nick who laughed as he reared back. This caused Y/N to quickly move out of the way as she giggled and as she rushed off to the side to make space for their messing around she gasped as she tripped over something, rolling her ankle in the process, she lost her balance as the pain shot through her ankle but then she felt two large hands grip onto her arms to prevent her from toppling over.

"Thank you, I'm so sorry! Did I get you with the heel?" she asked in concern as she regained her balance and turned around to see the person who had caught her and was met with Harry Styles, his big green eyes held a gentle look in them and he was offering her a soft smile. She was even more mortified now.

"No you didn't, it's OK." he assured her. Yes, everyone was laughing at Nick and Chris, but she swore all she could hear was Harry's voice and drowned out all of the other noise. He looked even more handsome up close, "How's your ankle?" he asked her.

"It'll be fine, probably just need to walk it off." she said glancing down to her feet.

"That sounds like a terrible idea, you should probably see the medic." he said with a small frown.

"You're probably right, I'll go after we finish this scene." she smiled as she stepped back to get into her position as the commotion started wrapping up as Olivia called back everyone's focus. However, as soon as she put her weight on her left ankle she winced and Harry frowned and stepped up to her again.

"You should definitely have them look at your ankle now." he said and she sighed.

"I'll go after the scene, I just have to stand here. If I leave now my partner will be wifeless." she explained. Y/N could not afford to not be in this shot, the studio paid them by day and this was the first scene of the day, if she spent all day at the medical tent she wouldn't get paid and she needed to get paid.

"Don't worry about that, I'm sure someone else could fill in for you, don't worry." he assured her with a smile.

"Ummm, that's just it, I can't be replaced, the studio pays by the day and if I don't actually participate in the shots I don't get paid." she said more quietly and he frowned, "I'd be fine if I had flat shoes, but I can wait until the scene is over. I swear, it's just the heel that's making it hurt more, I'll be good when we finish up." she said to him and he looked at her skeptically despite her nodding that she was fine, "Thank you though for your thoughtfulness." she smiled.

"What's your name?" He asked instead.

"Y/N." she said with a bit of nerves. They were reseting for the scene and Olivia was over by the cameras, giving the crew some instruction before they restarted the scene.

"I'm Harry, nice to meet you." he said extending his hand and she took it and shook it.

"Nice to meet you, Harry." she smiled as Olivia came down to rejoin everyone to start filming again. She was just a few feet away from them and Harry reached out to her.

"Hey Liv," he said and she hummed as she turned around, giving Harry her attention, "Y/N hurt her ankle while Nick and Chris were fucking around." he explained and she looked over at her with a small frown.

"Oh my god, are you OK? Do you need someone to help you to the medic?" she asked immediately and Y/N glanced to Harry trying not to look betrayed after what she shared with him about needing to be in the scene. Obviously Olivia would direct her to the medic tent, she needed to make sure that everyone was safe.

"Is there anyway she can just finish the scene in flat shoes?" he asked her and Olivia smiled at Y/N.

"I don't see why not," She told Y/N, "but if you're in too much pain I would rather you sit it out, I don't want you to feel uncomfortable." she said to Y/N.

"The low shoes should do just fine." Y/N assured her.

"OK." She smiled and turned towards the huddle of crew behind the camera, "Arianne, can you come over for a second?" she asked the costume designer who started making her way over.

"Thank you." she whispered to Harry who smiled and scooted back towards his position among the group. As Arianne headed over Oliva told Nick and Chris that they needed to be more careful of their surroundings when they mucked about, they were sweet and apologetic about it and after about ten minutes Arianne was coming back with a pair of flats and they continued rolling.

**********

It was nearing lunchtime when the pain in Y/N's ankle got to her. It was swollen now from her walking around and one of her fellow extras got her to the medic tent where they wrapped her ankle and told her to sit out for a bit and to ice it. So now she was sitting at the lunch tables with her foot propped up on a chair and an icepack on her swollen ankle, she had just swallowed down some ibuprofen for the swelling when a voice caught her attention.

"You didn't go to the medic after the scene, did you?" she glanced up to see Harry with an unsurprised look on his face, his lips almost quirked up in a grin. He didn't want her to think he was relishing in her pain, but it was just funny to him how she promised one thing and proceeded to do something else, she was stubborn and she was cute. Very cute, especially as she bit her lip to suppress her nervous smile as her eyes met his.

"I admit I did not." she said before looking away and then back into his eyes, "I tried to walk it off." she admitted and he chuckled.

"Of course you did, Y/N." he grinned, "Would you like me to grab you some food?" he asked her.

"One of my friends is in line for me, thank you though." she smiled.

"OK, good. Take care of yourself, OK?" he requested and she giggled.

"I will, thanks."

"You better." he grinned before walking off towards the line and she smiled before stealing another glance at him as he greeted Nick in the food line.

After that day she didn't really run into or interact with him again for some time, especially since she was just doing very basic background work for the rest of her time in Palm Springs. Now they were back in LA and they were filming a huge party scene, everyone was dressed in black tie and looking their very best. She was waiting around the set with everyone who was ready to go as instructed, the crew were finishing up make up wardrobe on everyone else. She was off in a corner by herself, people watching and waiting for more instructions.

Harry was bit nervous because he was about to do a big scene, he was literally about to tap dance in front of all of these people. But not just that, he had to also really convince the audience that his character, Jack, was truly committed to the Victory Project, he had to get into the mentality of someone who would actually go through with something like this and he was having a bit of a hard time. He had been mulling this over in his trailer but he needed to ask someone for some guidance on what kind of reaction might be appropriate in this moment. He headed into the stage where the set was and as he walked in he glanced around to see if maybe Chris or Olivia were around to offer him a bit of guidance and there, off to the side at the back was Y/N, just watching others mingle and chat, he wanted to say hello, he hadn't seen her in a couple weeks and he had wondered if she was alright.

"Hey, Y/N." He sang as he came up behind her and she gasped and pouted as she turned around, but as she saw it was him her pout morphed into a small and relieved smile.

"You scared me, Harry." she sighed and he mumbled an apology as she lay her hand over her heart for a moment.

"How's that ankle?" he asked.

"Just fine, thank you." she giggled and he smiled.

"You look fantastic by the way." he complimented and she smiled and looked down at her dress.

"Thank you so much, do you they'd notice if I left with the dress on?" she teased and he grinned.

"Definitely, nothing gets past Arianne." he said and she giggled.

"Very true. You look good too, very dapper." she smiled and he sighed.

"I try..." he said cooly with a nonchalant shrug and she rolled her eyes playfully.

"You're the star of the show for this scene right? Are you ready?" she asked and he looked into her eyes.

"I'm not going to lie, I haven't been this nervous since the first time I performed with my old band." he confessed, "Is it normal, to feel sick?" he asked jokingly and she giggled.

"The most normal." she assured and he exhaled before smiling, "If you don't mind me asking, why are you feeling nervous?"

"Well, I don't know if you know, but I have to fucking tap dance." he said and she grinned.

"Oh really?"

"Yes, it's a fucking long song."

"And you're worried about forgetting the steps?"

"No, I've had the whole dance down for a month." he assured her, "Just actually doing it in front of everyone you know?" she nodded as he explained.

"I mean, it's normal to be nervous when you're doing something brand new, but you know the steps, just listen to the music and let it guide you. If it helps we're all going to be cheering for you I'm sure." she said and he chuckled.

"That's true... I'm also a little confused about the delivery in this next scene. I'm having trouble getting in Jack's headspace." he said and proceeded to explain what the scene was about, the extras didn't speak so they didn't have scripts, they were just given briefs and instructions from the director to portray what was needed of them, but hearing him explain the plot of the film and why he was conflicted about this was very illuminating, "I just can't seem to get it through my head how to act like I'm proud of being a part of something like that..." he finished with a sigh and she bit her lip.

"Well from what you're telling me about this story I think that you first need to have some empathy for Jack." she said, "I know it's fucked up, but just imagine how full of self-hate he was to get to that point." she said with a frown, "This means so much to him because he was never good enough before, or so he felt that way and it seems that finally someone sees his potential and believes in him. And not just anyone, Frank is a man who Jack admires and who has changed his life and he has put everything on the line to be a part of this project. Come at it from a place of awe; awe that he's finally being seen and recognized as a valuable asset to something far greater than him. His whole life this man has felt emasculated and unworthy and kicked around by life, but right now all of the risks he took are supposed to be paying off, you know? This is the moment where Frank is giving Jack his power back as a man. " she said and it's like it all clicked in his head, "He's so passionate about this because he believes wholeheartedly in it and its like his wildest dream has just come true! And Harry, out of everyone here I think you might be a bit familiar with that feeling, no?" she asked him with a small and encouraging smile and he nodded.

"Yes. Wow, thank you..." he hummed pensively, "I think I know how I want to approach this." he said turning towards the rest of the actors on the set and she smiled.

"Good. And well, knowing the direction this is all headed in I think it'd be cool if apart from portraying how proud and in awe Jack is in this moment, you also made the audience feel proud of Jack and then when they get hit with the rest of the information they'll be so upset with themselves for rooting for Jack." she said and he grinned.

"Yeah...fuck, that's really good..." he said as he turned to her again, "Thank you for the advice, Y/N." Harry thanked her quietly, his eyes zeroed in on her own.

"Anytime." she responded quietly and he grinned and quickly glanced down at her lips and then back into her eyes and she wasn't sure if she had imagined that or not. It made her heart skip a beat and for butterflies to soar through her tummy as their eyes met again.

"Ummm, I forgot s-something in my trailer." he suddenly said to her and she nodded as he continued standing there.

"OK, do you need to go get it?" she asked him and he nodded.

"Oh right, yeah. I'll see you around, thank you again." he said and she nodded and off he went.

She was dying inside meanwhile Harry was having an internal panic. He had just blatantly looked down at her lips and there was no way she hadn't noticed. He was wondering what it would be like to kiss her and for some reason it made him nervous. He thought Y/N was pretty and nice, sure he had noticed her around the set prior to her ankle incident, but now that he had interacted with her a bit more he was interested in getting to know more about her but it wasn't professional and she had made no indication at flirting with him or being interested in him in that way and he didn't want to ask her to hang out and she feel forced to accept because there was a slight power dynamic between them. He needed to feel her out a bit.

************

It had been a very fun, but long day of shooting. It was raining outside and all Y/N wanted to do was get home and snuggle up under her covers. She hoped that her roommate didn't bring her girlfriend over, she was very chatty and she wasn't in the mood for that, she just wanted to sleep. She was saying goodnight to a few people on the way out of the dressing rooms now that she was back in her street clothes. She took a deep breath and then hurried out into the rain, it was pouring! She hadn't brought an umbrella, but luckily she had left her purse in the glove compartment of her car - phones weren't allowed to be out on the set anyway so she didn't need it on hand.

"Y/N!" she heard and turned around to see Harry push away from the trailer they used as a dressing room. She felt her heart pounding nervously again. He had a weatherproof jacket on but he was still waiting out in the rain for her and well, she was not in weatherproof clothes and ever second she lingered there she was getting more wet.

"Hey, what's up?" she asked regardless of her slight shivering and with a smile on her face.

"Ummm, nothing I just wanted to thank you again for your help today." he said and she sniggered.

"You've thanked me like five times!" she teased and he grinned nervously and looked down at his feet, "Please, it was nothing crazy." she assured him.

"Right, but ummm... it went really well so I just felt like I need to get one more in there." he explained and she smiled.

"Yeah, you were phenomenal! I got the chills!" she said, "I promise I was chanting the loudest." she assured and he chuckled and she offered one more smile. She was very near soaking wet now with the rain and it was starting to become unbearable, "Is there anything else you wanted from me?" she asked him kindly.

"Oh ummm... no, not really." he said and she nodded. He was so nervous it was making his stomach drop and flip horrendously.

"OK, well I'll see you next time I'm around, maybe." she smiled kindly at him and he rolled his lips together before just stating it.

"I ummm, I think you're really cool and I was wondering if maybe you wanted to hang out sometime?" he said, there was clearly an air of anxiety to his question because he looked rather unsure about his request and he was shifting his weight from one leg to the other.

"Oh ummm-"

"And I get that there's kind of like a slight power dynamic thing here, but by all means do not feel obligated to say yes if you're not interested in spending time with me. I won't be offended or make your life a misery or anything like that. I'm just going out a limb here, you're always so nonchalant and stoic about everything. And I know that you don't seek me out, if I recall correctly I'm always the one who approaches you and talks to you so if this is completely out of turn please tell me to buzz off. I just think you're cool and ummm, yeah." he finished his thought and pinched at his bottom lip anxiously as he awaited her response to this and she smiled.

"Ummm, I think you're nice and really cool too." she responded.

"You do?" he asked incredulously and she giggled.

"Do you think I would be standing out in the rain getting completely soaked through my clothes for someone I didn't want to talk to?" she asked and he frowned.

"Oh my god, I didn't even think about that when I stopped you... shit." he said with concern and she laughed softly.

"It's cool, Harry. I just didn't like, go out of my way to talk to you because I didn't know if I was allowed to?" she asked and now he chuckled and scoffed as he stepped closer to her.

"What gave you that impression?" he asked and she shrugged.

"I've been an extra on other sets and we weren't allowed to interact with the stars of the film so I just figured that applied for this production as well." she shrugged and he scoffed.

"OK, no one on our team is snobby like that at all!" he laughed and she did as well as she nodded in realization. It was true, everyone had been abundantly kind and professional the entire time, she hadn't experienced anything unpleasant the entire time she had been working on this film and she had never been told or made to believe that there was a distinction in importance or treatment between the starring cast and the extras.

"That's very true. Again, it was just an assumption, I'm sorry if that came off as rude or cold." she apologized to him but then smiled, "And well to answer your question I would definitely like to hang out with you sometime." she said and he smiled now, his dimple carved into his cheek and it made her stomach flutter.

"Cool. Ummm let me get your number, yeah? I'll text you?" he asked and she nodded and gave him her information which he quickly saved, "I'm sorry for keeping you and well now you're drenched." he said and she shrugged.

"A little rain never killed anyone." she responded with a smile. He liked that nothing seemed to get her down, it was admirable.

"Right! Well drive safe, yeah? Love it here but Angelinos can't drive in the rain for shit."

"Hey, watch it." she teased and he chuckled, "I will try my best though." she assured as she took a few steps back before turning around and heading off.

Y/N rushed to her car and slipped into the back seat, she had a change of clothes for the gym in case they got out early enough that she could go work out before heading home. She struggled a bit but managed to get changed and then got into the front seat and started the engine. Just as she did this her phone dinged from her bag in the glove compartment and she fetched it out and she saw a text notification from an unknown number and she swiped it open, assuming it was Harry and she smiled when she read over the message confirming it was him.

Hey, it's Harry. Let me know when you get home please? Want to make sure you get in safe, precious cargo and all 🙂

She felt all tingly and giddy as she read over his message once more before replying to him with a simple:

Yes, sir! 🫡

She then put her phone down and turned on the heater, waiting a bit more for her engine to warm up and her phone went off again and she opened up the message embarrassingly fast only to be met with a: 😏. She had no idea why that cheeky little smirking emoji suddenly had her blushing and feeling so nervous that she got the chills, but it did. Before she could overthink anything she took off and no matter what she did to distract herself his gorgeous face kept appearing in her mind and eventually she just accepted defeat and let her mind become overwhelmed with images of him and she couldn't wait to see him again.

#harry styles #harry styles drabble #harry styles fluff #shy harry #0nlythrowharrybeaux #why am I obsessed over simp Harry lately?

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cuddlerlouis · 3 years ago

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Styles’ role in Dunkirk grabbed Wilde’s attention as she was beginning to map out Don’t Worry Darling. He was an early contender for the role of Jack, a charming but secretive husband to Florence Pugh’s increasingly troubled Alice. And Styles had plenty of reasons to be interested in Don’t Worry Darling. Wilde’s second feature film as a director reportedly started a bidding war among 18 studios, following the success of her directorial debut, Booksmart.

Styles was announced as LaBeouf’s replacement a month before filming began. He proved perfect for the role of Jack, who’s brought Alice to the remote, fictional American town of Victory to work on a secret project the men at the company won’t tell their wives about. Jack’s become a star employee and is desperate for his boss’s approval. “We were looking for someone with innate warmth and palpable charm,” Wilde says. “The entire story depended on the audience believing in Jack.”

Styles shot Don’t Worry Darling between September 2020 and February 2021 in L.A. and Palm Springs. Those months were the longest Styles had lived in one place in 11 years. He thought about going completely off the grid while making it: maybe get a flip phone, stop making music. “The reality is you get there on the first day and wait around for 75 percent of it,” he says. “And it’s like, ‘Actually I’m going to text my mate.’ ”

At the start, he was understandably anxious about taking on such a large role alongside stars like Pugh, Chris Pine, Gemma Chan, and Nick Kroll. “In music, there’s such an immediate response to what you do. You finish a song and people clap,” he says. “When you’re filming and they say ‘cut,’ there’s maybe part of you that expects everyone to start clapping, [but] they don’t. Everyone, obviously, goes back to doing their jobs, and you’re like, ‘Oh, shit, was it that bad?’ ” (Being an actor reminded him of session musicians: “You get called in to do your bit, and then someone else puts it all together and makes it.”)

The risk may pay off: He and Pugh are already getting awards-season buzz. Wilde says one moment “left us all in tears” — Jack’s promotion scene during a big company gala. “It’s a strange scene, full of fascist references, and a disturbing amount of male rage,” Wilde says. “The scene called for him to stand onstage with Frank (Chris Pine) and chant their creepy slogan, ‘Whose world is it? Ours!’ over and over again. Dark as hell. But Harry took it to another level. He was so fully in the moment, he began screaming the lines to the crowd, in this primal roar, that was way more intense than anything we expected from the scene.”

According to Wilde, Pine backed away, understanding this was Harry’s moment. “The camera operator followed him as he paced around the stage like a kind of wild animal,” Wilde remembers. “We were all gobsmacked at the monitor. I think even Harry was surprised by it. Those are the best moments for an actor — when you’re completely outside your body.”

Harry Styles and Olivia Wilde on Don’t Worry Darling

#no one would post it so there i am :)#harry styles #olivia wilde #don't worry darling #that bit about that scene and chris pine backing away -- wow

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crispychann · 4 years ago

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It's you|Bang Chan

Summary- Chan's known for keeping his promises yet he couldn't keep this particular one. The one that meant the world to you. Why?

Word count- 1143

Tears, regret and fear. Chan’s eyes were filled with all of them as opposed to rage,denial and pain that filled yours. Chan had no right to do this. He made a promise. Chan wasn't a person who broke promises, yet he did indeed break this one. The one that meant so much to you. Why? Why did he have to?

It was on this very spot Chan made a promise six months ago. Same spot where you confessed your bottled up feelings for him. He was taken aback at first and at a loss of words next. Did he like you too?

He liked the way you tuck your hair behind your ear whenever he was just at a hand’s distance from you. He liked it when you nervously lick your lips before you spoke to him. Not to mention the way your skin looks tinted with the shades of pink whenever his skin brushes against yours when you both sit together with your friend circle. He knew it all along and liked the effect he held over you.

These signs were enough for Chan to definitely know the way he felt. The real question was, was he ready to begin a relationship with you? Or anyone as a matter of fact. He liked the way how things were at the moment. He felt so comfortable around you and being in a relationship might change the way how you both are around each other. Relationships had unspoken rules which Chan did not wish to sign up for. He didn't want to cling onto someone. Moreover, he wanted to get to know you better before committing to you. What if things got messy after you both got together? Chan didn't want to have room for that. He didn't want you both resenting each other in the near future.

Sigh

“Y/n.. I really like you too… in fact i’ve uh for a long time now” his hand found his nape as he scratched it gently. His eyes refused to look at yours.

“Really?” you blurted out. You couldn't contain your excitement. The man whom you’ve liked for a year likes you back? Why did it feel so surreal? Why couldn't you believe it? Why did you feel like there was a “but” coming up?

“BUT uh… ” Chan started hesitantly. There it was. That “but”. The but that completely ruined the moment you were having. The but that had your head spinning with a ton of questions.

“But what?” you deadpanned.

He gulped. He couldn't speak further.

You waved at him. “Cat got your tongue channie?”

“But, I don't want a relationship now y/n. It’s not you. I just .. uhh.. Just that I’m not ready to be in one right now” he told you honestly.

“I understand if you’re mad at me and you don't like me anymo-”

“I’m fine with not putting a label on this Chris…..at least for now” you cut him off. “It makes me so happy that you like me too. That’s enough” you continued.

Chan’s frown was replaced with a smile. The doubt in his eyes vanished. He planted a small kiss on your left cheek.

“It was so pink. I couldn't resist” he chuckled. He saw your ears turn red. He couldn't help but kiss your cheek again.

“It’s going to be you y/n” he uttered softly. “What?” you raise your brow.

“If I’m ever going to fall for someone…. It’s going to be you y/n” he tugged the edge of your shirt.

“Really?” you asked him.

“Promise.” he replied, still not letting you out of his arms.

It took him only six months to break his promise. You should have known. You should have known the minute he said he didn't want to commit that there was always room for someone else to take a spot inside his heart. That was the only thing you feared and that’s exactly what happened.

He had the audacity to tell you that he was in love with another girl and wanted to have a relationship with her. Her and not you. You knew this would happen one day but just not this soon. You always thought that you’d be the one to change his perception about relationships but turns out you were wrong. You didn't even know if you had the the right to be mad at him. You weren't his “girlfriend” after all.

It hurt. Why couldn't this have been you?! You gave your all. You put all your time and efforts into whatever you and Chan had, only to get heartbroken at the end.

The air between you both got bitter. You couldn't control the hot stream of tears rolling down your cheeks. He couldn't say anything to justify his action. Anything but sorry. He felt like a complete jerk but he had to do this. Though it was bitter, it was the truth. You got up and left his apartment.

You got into the bus and passed by Chan's apartment. You'd always go to his apartment and he'd drop you home. Today was different and the upcoming days were going to be different. You were aware.

Everyday you'd look at his apartment, hoping that someday he might come out and look at you through the bus’s window coincidentally. Maybe he'd regret his decision after looking at you and maybe that's why you took the same bus everyday.

You had not noticed his apartment for a few months.

You slowly started noticing the trees that passed by.

Then you'd notice the people who passed by and wonder how their day went.

You witnessed autumn leaves falling down the road. The brilliant shafts of sunlight caressed the carpet of reds and golds before you. They were quickly replaced by snowfall.

Four seasons passed by so quickly

And then slowly four years.

Things finally settled between you and Chan. Not soon but eventually it did. You were no friends but not strangers either.

Nothing changed in all these years except for his three girlfriends.

You were not sure as to why Chan was not able to commit to you. Did he have a reason? Was there something in your power to help him? You didn't know and would never know. You were ready to take all those baby steps with him and be there for him to help him but the window never opened up. There was never room because it was always only one person who was making the effort.

You had one final glance at Chan’s apartment. This was the last time you were going to see it through the bus’s window. One last time before you completely let him go.

Because you finally understood that,

Maybe it was always him for you and maybe it was never you for him.

#stray kids #bang chan #stray kids imagines #skz #felix #changbin #jeongin #kpop #han jisung #skz imagines #oneshot #chan imagines #seungmin #lee know #bang chan imagines #skz angst

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okskz · 4 years ago

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Maknaes.

elsy + yugbam

elsy decides to take out her two favorite maknaes to celebrate their solo debuts.

hope you guys enjoy! please feel free to leave some feedback because it is always appreciated!

[8th Member of Got7/Soloist]

“thanks for joining me, I’m sure the two are going to be happy to see you.” elsy smiled at chan. the two were sat first row of a balcony waiting for Bambam and yugyeom to perform. it had been awhile since the girl last saw them and thought going to their music show was the perfect opportunity since both boys would be there.

she was definitely proud that they finally had their solo debut and showed up for support just like the two did when elsy debuted for solo. it was great seeing her members doing their own thing.

“it’s not a problem, I’ve been wanting to see them for the longest now too.” chan giggled. “you know, since the three of you left me all alone in the company.”

elsy’s mouth fell open as she let out a laugh. “you’re not alone! you have your members and sana and chaeyoung and momo and, god who else are you friends with?”

“if I could be friends with everyone, I would.”

“well aren’t you such a social butterfly.” elsy jokingly rolled her eyes.

chan tsked at the girl. “hey don’t roll your eyes at me just because you had no friends back then besides me.”

elsy gasped out loud as chan burst into laughter. “I’m joking, I’m joking!” he giggled. “I’ll make you feel better by saying you were definitely my favorite.”

“okay, maybe that does make feel a little better.” elsy crossed her arms as she plopped back against her seat. then the lights had became a little dim, meaning someone was going to perform soon.

“it’s starting.” elsy grabbed on chan’s arm. “who do you think is first?”

before chan could answer the question, the lights had shown at the person on stage which ended up being yugyeom. elsy began smiling harder when seeing her younger member ready to perform. “aw! it’s my yugyeomie!”

elsy was too tranced into yugyeom’s performance as she smiled widely at him. she never once took her eyes away from yugyeom until gray had popped up to do his verse and yugyeom had left for a quick second. before she could think about it, the words were already leaving her mouth. “my god, gray is so good looking.”

chan snapped his head towards elsy, brows furrowing. “excuse me? I’m right here.”

elsy slowly turned her attention to chan, realizing what she had truly said. “oh, yeah. my bad.” she chuckled. “but he is very good looking!”

“okay, I’m shutting you out now.”

elsy ignored chan, bringing her attention back to the performance just when yugyeom had hopped back in. and soon it was over and elsy began to clap loudly. “ah, that was amazing! I’m so proud of him.” elsy smiled.

next to perform was bambam, which elsy was really hyped about seeing. especially when she was the first person to watch and listen to bambam’s debut song. it was a very special moment and she was just as proud of bambam like she was with yugyeom.

during his performance, chan had came close to elsy’s ear. “isn’t it a little funny how both of them have different vibes to their songs and performance?” he slightly wheezed.

elsy nodded, never taking her eyes off bambam. “I thought the same when I saw yugyeom’s video.” she said. “really shows their true color. to be honest, in all of us.” thinking about it, almost everyone in her group had something different when it came to their individual. where it was the sound or something else, elsy had noticed it a lot when going their separate ways for the time being.

it was like they had found their true self but when being together, it just seemed to work. and elsy couldn’t help but to want to feel working with her members again. but she knew they were doing absolutely great on their own.

by the time the performance was over and bambam was leaving the stage, chan stood up and looked back at elsy, lending out his hand for her. “I’m guessing you’d like to see them now.”

“of course!” elsy stood up excitedly and as she was walking the mc’s had mention about 2pm coming soon with their comeback. which of course, grabbed elsy’s attention, causing her to come to a halt. “2pm?!” she gasped. “nichkhun?! I have to come back and see them!”

“elsy, come on!” chan dragged the girl away before she could start fangirling. the boy shook his head, knowing how much of a fan elsy was of 2pm since she was a trainee. and he definitely knew about her little crush on nichkhun. “but nichkhun.” she pouted, looking back to see his picture show up.

“it’s like you’re forgetting I’m your boyfriend or something?” chan laughed, looking back at elsy. he still had a tight hold on her wrist.

“of course not.” she reassured. “no one could ever replace you. not even nichkhun.” elsy mumbled the last part but chan had heard her loud and clear.

the two had entered the hallway of where both yugyeom and bambam’s dressing room was located. and they could they had caught them right on time. “yugyeomie! bam!” elsy called out, grabbing their attention.

elsy had opened her arms out for a hug when seeing them jog towards her. but the two boys ended up passing her, going straight to chan. “my boy, chris!” bambam shouted. “bang chan! thanks for coming!” yugyeom shouted after. the three of them were in a group hug all while elsy stared at them in disappointment. she let out a fake cough to grab their attention.

“oh, hey noona, didn’t see you there.” yugyeom joked, going in to finally hug elsy.

“funny.” she scoffed. “but if it wasn’t for me, bang chan wouldn’t have been here.” elsy narrowed her eyes. but then they softened when she went in to hug bambam and yugyeom at the same time. “I’m so proud of you two. you guys did so good.” she kissed them on the side of their heads.

“woah watch it there, noona.” yugyeom smirked. “don’t want to make chan jealous of us two.”

elsy stared at yugyeom before smacking him behind his head. “you fool.” she said before going back to chan’s side and linking her arm with his. “I want him only.”

“well I had you first.”

everyone choked up a laugh, elsy shaking her head at her younger member. but then bambam had spoke up. “actually if you think about it, jin-“

“yeah, yeah, anyways!” elsy exclaimed before bambam could finish his sentence. “now that we’re here, I’m taking you guys out. as a celebration of your debuts.” she smiled at the two.

“free food from elsa?” bambam question with a smirk, making elsy drop her smile from the nickname. “I’m in.”

***

“I forgot to say, but congratulations on winning kingdom.” yugyeom said to chan. “the performances you guys had were insane.”

“ah.” chan chuckled after swallowing his food. “thank you.”

“and you noona, what have you been up to these days?”

elsy simply shrugged. “not much really. doing lots of online shopping if that counts as something.” she said. “and also hanging around with this guy.” the girl smiled, linking her arm with chan’s again.

“ew.” bambam made a face. elsy threw a small fry at him. which was no use because bambam ended up catching it in his mouth.

“no talks in comeback for you?”

“oh!” the girl exclaimed, looking at chan. “now that you mentioned it, yes. I’m slowly preparing for a comeback. we’re just in talks right now.”

“ugh, I’m excited for it.” she squealed.

“damn, we barely made our debuts and you’re already on a comeback. you work fast, elsa.”

“I mean, I did have my debut in like the beginning of the year.”

“yeah, and it was only a few months since you had left the company.” yugyeom said.

elsy shrugged. “then I guess you’re right. maybe I do work fast.”

chan had intertwined his fingers with elsy’s under the table. “do you have like a date or month of when your comeback will take place?” he questioned.

“probably around august.” she answered which caused chan’s eyes to light up. “so around the time my group has our comeback too.”

elsy softly gasped. “yes. that means we’ll get to see each other in music shows.” she ran a hand through chan’s hair.

the two boys in front of them let out a fake cough, catching their attention. “I mean if you wanted this to be a double date, you should of just asked, lee elsy.”

“sorry.” she laughed. “let’s go back to celebrating.” as soon as the words left her mouth, their waiter had came back to their table with four shot glasses filled with alcohol.

“I’m not drinking this.” chan slightly chuckled.

“aw come on man!” yugyeom exclaimed. “you have to.”

“I’m not a drinker.”

“your girlfriend is.” bambam pointed out when seeing elsy gulped down the shot in no time, not even waiting for bambam and yugyeom.

“here.” bambam said, giving elsy chan’s shot glass. “drink chan’s too. show my boy chris the real you when you’re drunk. drink it, drink it now.”

“bambam!” elsy shouted but still took the drink from him. “it’s just a celebration shot. to my favorite maknaes, and your debuts.” she raised the small glass and took the second shot that belonged to chan.

“look at you!” yugyeom laughed. “you can’t even wait for us.”

#got7 au #got7 oc #got7 female oc #got7 additional oc #got7 8th member au #got7 8th member #got7 angst #got7 fluff #got7 imagines #got7 scenarios #kpop au #kpop oc #kpop oc au #kpop member #kpop additional oc #kpop female oc #female kpop oc #bambam au #yugyeom au

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miraculouscontent · 4 years ago

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(non-Miraculous asks)

Anonymous said:

Ok this may just be me but I hate deconstructions. I feel like they are always mean spirited and try to be dark and edgy and thinks that every single person is an asshole because that’s “realistic” when no it’s not. This maybe because I like superhero stories and love it when the heroes overcome their struggles.

I can agree for the most part. Whenever I hear “okay but what if it was dArK--” I’m just okay, gonna stop you right there.

Anonymous said:

I swear, nothing bothers me more than people who want Miraculous Ladybug to literally just be Yandere Simulator(with Marinette as Ayano, Alya as Info-chan, Adrien as Taro, Chloe as Osana, Lila as Kizana, Kagami as Megami, and Luka as Budo). It just grinds my gears, especially because they're, once again, framing Marinette as a stalker, which just makes her look bad, AND pits all the girls against each other for Mr. Generic Harem Protagonist, once a-fucking-gain. Just go play the actual game, ok?

All I'm hearing is that now I have to ship Ayano and Budo and write a fic where the ghost girl uses fancy fantasy magic to merge her soul with Ayano and lets her actually have emotions, healing her from being a yandere while the ghost girl (in a way) gets to live a life she was cut short of, also allowing Ayano to be happy and go onto be friends with all the rivals.

Extremely convoluted but that’s the only way we get happy endings in this house.

Anonymous said:

I remember how, when writing Sailor Moon, Naoko Takeuchi refused to bow to older male writers wanted, say, for the girls to be stereotypical manga characters, with one being overweight, one being a stereotypical nerd, etc. But Naoko wanted each of the girls to be beautiful and feminine. While I don't like that they all share a body type, I admire how she didn't listen to grown men when writing for and about young girls. And I can't help but think about how Madoka is the antithesis of all that.

I can appreciate writers who put their foot down to stick to their values. There are limits of course, but yeah, a women writing women probably shouldn’t be listening to a man’s input. I’m sure good advice exists buuut...

Anonymous said:

What is your ranking of the seasons of the year from most to least favorite and why?

Summer - I work best in the warmth

Spring - Always brings images of flowers blooming to mind

Autumn - Things are getting cold and I don’t like it

Winter - It can go choke for all I care

Anonymous asked:

Someone on TV Tropes actually said that the name Feminist Fantasy should be changed because "feminism excludes men the same way meninism excludes women" and actually had the nerve to link that to the "Not So Different" trope, as if women haven't been excluded throughout the history of almost every human society. Fortunately, someone responded to them in a way that technically amounted to "do your damn research" but I'm still facepalming so hard at TV Tropes' "what about the men" rhetoric.

I feel like I lost braincells reading this.

Anonymous asked:

I feel like in fiction written by men there are only three flaws that female protagonists are allowed to have: clumsy, boy-crazy, or ashamed of their flat chests. I hate it.

Don’t forget, “having to listen to the men for how they’re supposed to feel.”

Anonymous asked:

Jatp. Nominated. For. Seven. Emmys. SEVEN!!!! Miraculous could NEVER. Literally.

omg!! Congrats to Julie and the Phantoms!

Anonymous asked:

WHAT ARE YOUR FLASHBACKS TO EVER AFTER HIGH?? I GOTTA KNOW? OMG?

Oh, I’ve seen basically the whole series, though the one I remember most is definitely Epic Winter. It was my favorite one though Beauty and the Beast is my favorite Disney movie so I’m biased.

I also like a lot of the “twists” and just--crazy concepts they rolled with, like with Red Riding Hood’s story and how Apple White gets woken up from her slumber.

Anonymous asked:

You're gonna be happy to hear this...I just started watching Cardcaptor Sakura today, and holy shit not only do I love it, but I also love how freaking META it is! I know you said you're not all that knowledgeable about Magical Girl, but this show is AWARE that it's a Magical Girl show! From Tomoyo(the main reason this show is so meta, tbh) realizing Sakura is a Magical Girl and asking if she has a transformation pose, to designing outfits for her(more on that later) to videotaping her(aka literally making a Magical Girl anime out of her Magical Girl friend), it just has fun with itself and plays with Magical Girl tropes without making a mockery of them like all those "dark" male-aimed ones do(lookin' at you, Madoka Magica and Yuki Yuna!).

And not only is it hilarious and adorable(especially with Sakura's crush on Yukito, Tomoyo's crush on Sakura, and Touya picking on Sakura, but playfully), but I love how it's riddled with girl power. While watching some of the first episodes I was looking forward to seeing Syaoran(partly because I love male Tsunderes and partly because I can't pronounce his name), and was surprised that he wasn't in the first few episodes, but more importantly I was so happy to see a show that treats its female characters with respect and shows women unironically receiving support from other women and being shown possessing power and authority.

I love Sakura and Tomoyo's friendship even if I hate the trope of "Lesbian Never Gets The Girl"(not that I think she's entitled to Sakura's affections or anything, but still.) and watching her support Sakura in her magic endeavors without being jealous or vindictive, I love that they're allowed to be independent and smart but that the show doesn't forget that they're kids, instead of making them like Manon and Chris, and I love that the show passes the Bechdel test in pretty much the first or second episode, and that pretty much every important and unimportant character we meet that's not Sakura's family members, Kero, or Yukito(plus maaaayyybe the Shadow Clow Card) are female.

Even little things, like all FOUR of Tomoyo's bodyguards in the second episode being female without there being a "reason" or the show making a big deal of it(either in a "yay girl power!" way or a "what but women can't x" way or an objectifying way) fills me with insurmountable joy. Also, I love that the show follows the Magical Girl trend of pretty much admitting that femininity is power, since frilly dresses are stated to be the most "fitting" thing for a Cardcaptor to wear, as without it, they might not be mentally up to the task, and this is an unironic truth rather than a joke(although Sakura is shown to be embarrassed, but it's much more likely that she's simply not used to that kind of gear due to not being rich as Tomoyo is.) or a gag.

I just thought I should tell you this because I know you like Cardcaptor Sakura, and with the crappy episodes that just came out of this show, I think you deserve to read an ask that's about a GENUINE girl power Magical Girl show, instead of yet more Miraculous Ladybug salt or Madoka Magica hate(not that there's anything wrong with either of those two, but it just gets grating after a while.). Overall, I'm looking forward to watching this show, since I've been looking for a Magical Girl show to watch nowadays(I've been meaning to watch Star Twinkle Precure but I can't find the third episode and all of Cardcaptor Sakura is on YouTube now, so.). So excited!

Hey, I’m glad that you’re having fun with it!

Though, just a warning, you might wanna steer clear of the Clear Card arc. It’s a sequel to the original series made waaaay after the original (think the equivalent of Yashahime for Inuyasha, though continuing with the original characters) but omg I hated it.

Anonymous asked:

With the crappy Season 4 episodes that just came out I'm glad I got into Cardcaptor Sakura when I did. Who needs "Marinette needs to make a mistake every episode and learn something from it" when you can have genuine girl power and sweetness incarnate?

Alya could never compete with Tomoyo, I’m just sayin’.

Anonymous asked:

Your comment about white men feeling "disenfranchised" because more shows are about black people and/or women(I say and/or because the two aren't mutually exclusive.), as if there aren't a million other things they could be watching instead is so true! It reminds me of how I was talking to someone recently about the new generation of MLP, in which I stated that we didn't need a male mane pony(spoiler alert: they have one, sadly.), and he claimed that it would be beneficial since many shows aimed at boys at least try to include at least one main girl, and that it would be good for G5 of MLP to have at least one strong male lead so that boys could have a role model and know that the show isn't "girly".

Okay, so far, so good, but this I could chalk up to just unconscious internalized misogyny, especially since he didn't say it in any sort of "way". So I respectfully told him that the scale regarding representation is already not equal and that boys can look up to girls and that a show being girly is not a bad thing and all that stuff that you already know about. Then he responded claiming some stuff about how he keeps trying to pitch stories about straight white male characters and how nobody is accepting his offers and so this means that straight white men are underrepresented compared to everyone else. He even explicitly said, and I quote "White people are actually critically underrepresented in media right now. Especially boys."; I swear to the Goddess above.

At this point I was officially upset as a black girl, to hear this white(and presumably adult) man telling me that he was underrepresented in media compared to me, even saying that the media execs are practicing "quotas and tokenization"(and yes, he repeatedly used those terms for any instance of representation, even when I asked him politely to stop.) by replacing women with men or white people with pocs and are making white men look like incompetent doofuses.

He also kept saying stuff about how shows are always shoehorning people of color in where they don't belong by casting them in settings such as Shakespeare and medieval times when "realistically" there were no people of color during those time periods(which is obviously not true, it's just not what the history books show us.), and made a really insensitive comment about how black children in the USA today don't know the significance of having the first black president because the media supposedly already shows them black people in various professions(despite also claiming he couldn't speak to the "black experience" and yet here he is whitesplaining that shit.).

It got to the point where he was seriously and unironically using the word "blackwashing". When I pointed out to him that white men aren't underrepresented and that it's just his self-centered ego telling him that they are, that the word "blackwashing" isn't a thing, and that mis/underrepresentation in media DOES affect black kids negatively(even citing myself as an example) he went on to claim that I was being tone-deaf and that "blackwashing" is just as bad as whitewashing, and that making Ariel black is just as bad as making Jasmine white.

At this point I had to bang my head on the table and explain to him the difference; his ass still wouldn't get it. Eventually he started saying some really skeevy and hypocritical shite that white men say all the time when whining about how "oppressed and underrepresented" they are: that black people and/or women

(it looks like there might be an ask missing here, in which case, sorry if Tubmlr ate it!)

avor of supporting the commonly believed LIE that "women and/or minority groups don't have as much history worth learning about, so there's no point in focusing on them." He also kept using patronizing, condescending, mansplaining language such as "let me explain it to you" or "you still don't get it do you?", and when he said women had nothing to contribute to society because "oppression" he even had the nerve to tack on "welcome to the unequal society" as if I hadn't been lecturing him about just that.

Because obviously only white men did anything worthwhile or important in history. At this point, I had to block him. I couldn't take it anymore and this was on an MLP site of all places(although I'm probably just as guilty of that part, but at least I wasn't an ass!). I just can't stand white men who "want to be oppressed so bad" but still want to claim that their achievements are more important and deserve to be more prominent. Honestly, so many white men are so fragile the second they're not in the spotlight. I can't help but think that despite all the privilege afforded to their class being a white man sounds like the worst thing ever.

“he claimed that it would be beneficial since many shows aimed at boys at least try to include at least one main girl, and that it would be good for G5 of MLP to have at least one strong male lead so that boys could have a role model and know that the show isn't "girly". “

I might be looking too deep into that but I don’t like the idea of, “Well WE squeezed in a girl and therefore YOUR SHOWS--” like it’s some sort of matter of “fairness” or that boys’ shows aren’t putting in girls out of a genuine like for them but because they “need” one or it’s some sort of obligation.

Also, we need to stop this idea that boys can’t look up to female characters and vice versa for girls. You already said it but yeah.

And yeah, I hear "quotas and tokenization" and I officially tune out of whatever the person is saying, lol. White men are critically underrepresented???? Newsflash, maybe it’s just because others are being represented more??

Just the whole thing about whites being “underrepresented” boggles my mind. White people don’t have some sort of special ability or skill that other races can’t do themselves unless you count the “superpower” of white privilege.

Like, oh my god, all that “whitesplaining” and having to read the word “blackwashing” was physically painful. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. I don’t know how they got hold of the technology to communicate with you from whatever time period their from, presumably the Stone Age.

Don’t even blame you for blocking them. There’s just a level of absolute... blindness? Arrogance??? That comes with the territory with them sometimes, I swear. You had every right to be upset; other races come to ask for equality and fair representation and suddenly you have these white men (not all obviously but damn) coming by and crying that they’re being oPpReSsEd. U_U

Like, honestly, my father in particular is absolutely that kind of person so I’ve heard that kind of stuff before. it’s all gross.

On a slightly unrelated note (trying to end this with some positivity), I hadn’t even heard about a fifth generation of MLP until I read this, and just wanted to let you know that I really hope you have a really good time with it! Hopefully the male character isn’t... well, you know.

#other: ask and answer #other: non ml talk

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nctzendreamz · 5 years ago

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off the table — lee taeyong

genre: angst w/ hints of fluff.

warnings: language, mentions of drug abuse, and mental illness.

featuring: nct members + chan and felix from stray kids.

authors note: taeyong was perfect for this in my head. also, thank you ariana grande.

is love completely off the table?

will I ever love the same way again? will I ever love somebody like the way I did you?

it had been almost a year. almost a year since he had heard your laugh. you know, the one only he was capable of getting out of you. it was gentle, yet so vibrant that it could color even the most plain and unpleasant rooms. he had seen you do it a million times, but his favorite work of art of yours was the one you did on his heart.

obviously, he couldn’t see what the inside of him looked like. but he could feel it. before he met you, he was certain everything was pitch black. to be specific, the darkest shade of the night sky one could possible fathom. so much pain resided in him. some he brought to himself, some he did nothing to earn. regardless, it was there, and as anybody with demons did, he found coping methods.

that’s how he met you, actually. holed up a strip club he had no business being in. one, because there was no one here he truly wanted. he would never admit it outloud, but the thought of love warmed him. not much, but it did. more than silly one night stands that have soul ties no one wanted to keep.

you were clearly out of place in the building filled with the scent of marijuana and flashing lights, although it did perfectly consume your complexion in the most beautiful way. he observed you for what felt like hours, just admiring you. he had no idea he would want to do this for the rest of his life.

it didn’t take much liquid courage for him to approach you. he could sense your fear when his slender fingers touched your exposed shoulder. for some reason though, the minute your eyes locked it was as if you were looking at someone you had known for a million lifetimes. or maybe that was just Taeyong’s point of view. maybe, everything was all an illusion. meeting you. falling in love with you. you falling in love with him.

“it’s been awhile.” a voice snaps Taeyong out of his deep thinking. the minute his concentration breaks does his surroundings suddenly blast into the center of his cortex. the volume increases. he is in the real world again. he isn’t high, yet.

“yeah.” is all he can spit out. all of the different coversations he could hear take place all of a sudden was making him extremely frustrated and unable to form coherent thoughts. or maybe he wanted it that way so he wouldn’t have to think about you.

you loved coming here. he hated coming here. but he loved you, and your favorite thing to say to him was, “when you love someone, you do things you hate. just like me sitting and watching you smoke for hours without stopping.”

he never realized how much you hated his distractions.

the here, was a restaurant that resembled a sports bar back where you are from. the food was less Korean and more greasy chicken tenders. and you really admired their honey mustard. it was kind of ridiculous how much you loved this place. it was always crowded. the smell was odd - a mixture of people who can’t seem to do anything but drink beer and yell, and foreigners who hated living in Korea. this was the only taste of home they got, so they took advantage of it.

did you feel that way too?

he doesn’t know. and he doesn’t want to think about it. some soccer game was on. people were cheering. he was just waiting on his to-go order.

“how have you been?” the familiar woman asks behind the counter. she was definitely in her mid-50’s. he assumed. she always would be here when Taeyong was dragged along, and she was always nice. who wouldn’t be with all the money you gave to this place.

“i’ve been fine.”

taeyong feels a little cheery conversating with another human. if it wasn’t his dealer, there wasn’t anything to say if he was being quite honest. his relationship with his family died out a long time ago. the only person that he could talk to was himself. the guys who were constantly down in the basement at his dealer were cool, but they never really got him. they thought he was weird, violent. only you cared enough to see how sweet he was. to paint him.

“good to hear. you tell your lover that i miss them!”

his heart, still colored from the mention of you, breaks. it had broken many times from your presence on this earth being acknowledged. everytime his chest would explode into his stomach.

he couldn’t say anything.

he simply walks out the place, not caring about manners. he just wants to go home. he doesn’t even like these fucking chicken tenders, but he’s going to go home and eat them. in your honor.

“excuse me.” a voice exclaims as he finally makes it outside.

once again, words don’t leave his mouth. the woman was probably lost. he truthfully didn’t care. he didn’t care about anything anymore.

“sorry,” she begins. her hair is almost a white color. it’s clearly dyed, but she might have been naturally a darker shade of blonde since the coloring seemed too perfect. “i just...i’ve been watching you - wait, that sounds incredible creepy—“

no one could compare to you, but she reminded him of you. you always did this when you were nervous, or had a severe lack of sleep. you would say things you considered to be silly. fumble with your words. and you would always ruin it more by acknowledging it.

but he was never irritated. he thought it was the cutest thing in the entire world. you were the cutest thing in the entire world.

even now, he’s okay. maybe because he was reminded of you, he can appreciate the art.

“you’re really cute.” she finally spits out.

he couldn’t respond, for the third time today.

why was this so hard? it has almost been a fucking year. a year without you. a year without touching you.

yet, no one could ever compare. not the blonde woman standing in front of him. not the sky. not the stupid bar. even his drugs seemed lackluster to the high you gave him whenever you told him you loved him.

he walks away. he needs something. something to make him unable to think for the rest of the night.

never thought you’d be so damn hard to replace. i swear I don’t mean to be this way, if I can’t have you? is love completely off the table?

“y/n? you there?” you feel vibrations from snapping on your face from the man sitting beside you. he snapped three times, to be exact.

“yeah! yes.” you quickly correct, adjusting your posture along with it.

“i know you appreciate the arts, but that painting is nothing to stare at.”

the painting chan was referring to, seemed plain to a simple eye. it simply, was a black square. but you saw worlds in it. you saw him.

“you know christopher,” you cooed, giving his slim cheek a quick sqeeze before continuing, “just because something seems boring to the naked eye, doesn’t mean it actually is. sometimes, a simple work of art such as that lame black square can hold a thousand meanings.”

he smile is radiant. honestly, the neon colored walls in the movie theater couldn’t compare to it no matter how hard it tried. lately, you had been trying to predict what he would say when you tried to be somewhat of substance around him. you were truthfully scared of boring him.

maybe you saw yourself in the black square as well.

“you really find it interesting, love?”

his accent - God his accent. it had an effect on you that truthfully wasn’t healthy, but even so you always felt guilty when your heart would papilate as it touched your eardrums. but why? you were single. you were moving on.

you can’t even look at him anymore, so you settle on the painting once more. now that you think about it, it was kind of scary that it was in a movie theater. maybe chan was on to something - what was its purpose? to simply cause you pain? to make you think about things and people you could no longer have? a person who is the worst possible thing for your growth, but the best food for your pitiful, lonely soul?

“never mind, you’re right.” you stand promptly, suddenly wanting to get as far away from the evil on the wall. it didn’t matter how chilly it was outside.

“woah.” chan chases after you. you’re too quick though. you’ve practically swam through the crowd to escape into fresh air. what is wrong with you?

it doesn’t take long for you to find yourself at his car. his pride and joy by the way, in which he never let anyone else ride in yet. he had been saving for so long to get it. you didn’t know the model, all you knew was that it made loud noises when he wanted it to. the car was originally white, but the two of you agreed that it was the worse possible color for a car, so he got a paint job and now it was as black as a dark hole.

the stars are beaming, and it’s odd. you used to love nights like this. you preferred the day time, but it was something about a light in the dark, such as the moon that pulled you in. it always destroyed you in the end though.

“what did I do?” his voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

“huh?” you wizzle in confusion, not understanding why he believed he had done anything but gave you a peaceful night not lost in your thoughts.

his eyes tell you everything you need to know before his mouth does. he isn’t questioning your ever changing emotions and happiness to hear satisfaction from your mouth - to boost his ego. he truly feels as if he’s ruined any chance he’s had with you simply from being himself. even so, as he waits for you to answer he’s taking his bomber jacket off for you to wear. he was sweet like that.

“chris, you are always perfect. why would you think anything different?” you say as you put the jacket on.

he’s holding back a smile, but you can tell it’s more so from your proper word choice, and not what you said.

“you trying to sound English?”

“no.” you giggle, pushing his shoulder lightly. “I’m just trying to communicate with you.”

“then tell the truth.” he prompts, taking a step closer to you.

“can I lean on the car?”

“yes.” he laughs in a low tone. “you can lean on the car.”

“okay.”

silence is filling the air, and it’s making you sick even though it shouldn’t be.

“y/n.” he finally speaks. you decide you have the balls to look at him even though it feels so wrong. the stars - they’re sparkling right into his eyes and you know you are the dumbest idiot on earth.

why can’t you just choose him?

the question is repeating over and over in your head, but no answer comes. well, no answer you want to hear comes. this should’ve been easy money. the perfect guy, with a good family and solid morals is madly in love with you. he’s still here, even when you barely give him anything to work with, and you’re thinking about others who were nothing close to that no matter how they made you feel.

“my confession ruined everything, didn’t it?”

it was about two months ago that chan confessed his love for you. you laughed a bit, as it made no sense. the two of you had been in the same circle for awhile, and you had been notified of his appreciation for you long ago, but he had seen you break. he watched you go from happy soul to broken and he still liked you? in what world?

you enjoyed his company. that’s why you began to hang out with him practically everyday - doing whatever you two wanted. most of the time you two just watched movies, or played silly board games. but sometimes you would go shopping, or he would play you his music he worked on. you could tell he lacked confidence on what he could become, but you knew he had the potential to be so great.

his confession was short and sweet. and the way he approached you, you could tell he was somewhat confident that you would feel the same. you did feel the same, but you also still had feelings for others. when you declined his request to take things to the next level, he didn’t get upset. or at the least he didn’t show it.

he promised the two of you would move at your pace. and that was all you needed to hear to know that maybe one day, when you got yourself together, the two of you could be something.

chan always protected you. you never felt endangered, or unsafe when you were with him. to you, he was sweet, to others he was still sweet, but he knew when to be stern.

“no. i promise.” is all you answer. “it’s cold.” here you go again trying to change the subject. this wasn’t like you.

he promptly unlocks the door to his car, opening it for you as well. it isn’t long before he’s on the drivers side turning on the car so you could feel some heat on your body.

“i won’t bring it up anymore.” he sighs.

“no chris. you bring it up everytime you feel it. i like you, okay? i do. i know I’ve never said it out loud before, but I do. i just...i don’t know what I’m doing right now. there are some things I have to get over you know?”

you can tell the amount of words you used - probably the most you had spoken to him in months shocked him, and made him feel extremely guilty. you know he didn’t want you to feel like he was trying to pressure you. all he wanted to have was something. something that made him feel as special as he knew you had made others feel in the past.

“y/n I’m a fucking idiot. God, don’t listen to me. you are perfect okay? we are working at your pace and we always will. i - fuck.” his face goes directly in his hands.

it’s cute - the way he cares about his every move around you so deeply. you remember what it felt like to feel like that. it was the most nerve wracking, yet butterfly giving thing to experience when around someone you admired so much.

“chris...” you whisper, removing his face from his palms. he had the softest hands ever. “hey, don’t beat yourself up okay? i know what you want and I know you have nothing but the purest intentions. if I didn’t feel that way I wouldn’t want to spend everyday with you okay? whatever you think this is, it is. i promise.”

“okay.” he sighs the biggest breath of relief you had heard in a long time. “okay. i know what we need.” he offers. your hand lingered on his, and he decided it would be best to hold yours as the opportunity presented itself. it’s nice - the warmness. yet, it feels incredibly wrong.

you truly didn’t mean to be this way. you would do anything to not be this way.

“let’s go cop something from felix. hm?”

what chan was reffering to was the good ole’ mean green, weed. you smoked a lot more in the past than you did now, but you were still no angel. especially tonight did getting high sound like the best decision you could have made.

“yes please.” you say without hesitation, leaning back in the seat. your left hand is still in chan’s right, and you don’t plan on letting go. felix’s house isn’t that far from here, so you know your pleasure will be coming sooner or later. chan starts the car and begins the journey. usually, the two of you drive with music on, but tonight the silence was what the both of you wanted.

secretly though, chan snuck his AirPod into his left ear. he loved music, but he could tell you weren’t in the mood. and he didn’t mind that. he would do anything for you. the lyrics resonated with his with his soul so much that he felt it ache, even though he felt he had no right.

i’ll wait for you

even if I always feel like I’ll be number two

to someone you can’t hold anymore

taeyong can’t even recall how long he had been pent up here, high as hell. intoxicated as fuck. the chicken tender meal he brought had been long gone, but not from his mouth. the junkies smelt food, and took food like the animals they claimed to be.

this all sucked so bad. he hated being here. but he couldn’t move.

it was so loud in here. the boys he knew - johnny, mark, and jaehyun were all present. they seemed to be the leaders of the basement and they also seemed to be functioning quite well considering how high they also were. taeyong couldn’t fathom or make out what their conversation were, but he assumed it was about girls. he caught, “they’re supposed to be here any minute now.” from jaehyun’s lip. he seemed to be the strongest ladies man. all taeyong knew, was that he wanted no parts of the drug induced orgy he knew was going to take place. he also knew if he didn’t leave, they didn’t care. they were going to give a show regardless.

“taeyong!” johnny yells, bringing him back to focus. johnny was always very intimidating. he wore a smile when he got what he wanted, but if he spoke to you and you didn’t listen, he quickly got upset. maybe he was different when he was sober, but that was never.

“what’s up.” taeyong answers dryly, still not looking at him.

“you know,” johnny sits down in the dirty floor right beside him. “you’ve never been fun, but you were more fun before than you are now.”

“i went through this phase.” mark interrupts, taking the seat on taeyong’s opposite side. “what is it? mommy issues? a girl? or a boy? if you get spicy like that.” he chuckles. he coughs right after.

“how about everything. except the last part.” taeyong whispers.

“oh...you have it rough. was your mom a druggie too?”

“no - well, I don’t know. i met her like once when I was younger. she told me ‘i did it for your good’ and left.”

“so you were in a foster home? or did you get adopted?”

“foster home. neglected, so now I’m like this.” he chuckles. he’s laughing, but in reality to admit these things out loud hurt, even though he was sure the other boys had similar or worse stories.

“and the girl?” mark asks. he had began to roll up another blunt in the midst of taeyong’s life story. maybe it was too much for him. or maybe he was just an addict.

“i cheated. and i was mean. she was the best thing ever though. she got me clean.”

“for what? a day?” johnny laughs outloud.

“well, not clean clean.” he explains. “but off the hard stuck like coke, and lsd and shit. we both smoked weed. and I smoked cigs.”

“ew!” the two of them exclaim. “cigs?”

“so you’re telling me that the two of you do every drug under the sun, but cigarettes are where you draw the line?”

“duh!”

“have you seen all the commercials? with the person with the hole in their throat sounding like the old shriveled lady from spongebob going ‘chocolate!’ we don’t want that!”

“cigarettes aren’t the only thing that can cause that, you know?”

“whatever.” johnny shivers as if he had just gotten the worse news ever. “so this girl wasn’t a druggie? why did she even like you?”

“i don’t know. still to this day I don’t know. but she did. and she tried everything to make me happy. it just felt too good to be true, so I ruined it.”

“damn bro.” mark sighs, taking a deep puff of his blunt. “i thought people only did stupid shit like that in the movies or tv shows.”

“hey hey now, markie.” a voice speaks out of the corner. “be nice to our new friend.”

it’s jaehyun. funny enough, jaehyun tried to get at you once long before you met taeyong, but you had no interest in him once you found out his issues. then again, while he was attracted to you, he didn’t want you to love him. he just wanted to corrupt you.

“our boy is broken hearted. seems to me like he just needs some fun.”

“relax, jae.” johnny explains. “he’s not there yet. let him fall for us on his time.”

“what are you on right now?” jaehyun inspects.

“just a couple of blunts.”

“so just a starter?”

“hyung...” mark sighs.

“okay okay. fine. but when the heartbreak starts to kick in more, i got something that’ll change your life. you just let me know.”

“he will.” johnny and mark say once again in unison.

“boys!” a voice yells. it makes everyone stand up minus taeyong, as he had no idea who it was. he can hear feet coming down the steps. there’s a boy with blonde hair. the same boy who let him in. he was a new face, but clearly an important one from the way even jaehyun was waiting for his comment.

“hi felix!” everyone begins to repeat after eachother.

his voice is deep as he speaks, and his accent is thick. his face itself may have not been scary, but the way he carried himself was.

“clean up this fucking mess. i know you can’t do anything about the shitty couches, but make an attempt. i got some good people coming over and I need quiet. when I bring them down here to show them the product, i need everyone on their best behavior.”

“what exactly does that mean?” taeyong speaks. maybe he shouldn’t have, because everyone is looking at him as if he just called the president a bitch to his face or something.

“you’re new here.” felix explains as he finishes his strut down the stairs. he can be seen more clearly now, and his outfit reminds taeyong of someone you knew. he couldn’t remember his name, but it was chan or something. “well, new to me.”

“and?”

“and...” felix crouches to his level. “im the boss. and all of you do what I say. my brother ran this like a crackhouse. i want us to make some real money, therefore you all will be getting cleaned up. there will be people coming in and out, looking at what we have, so try not to act like the druggie you are. thanks.”

“yes sir.” taeyong says, although he has no intentions of respecting this felix cat.

the doorbell rings promptly. the house wasn’t so big that they wouldn’t be able to hear. clearly this felix had plans to change that, but for now he had to settle.

“that’ll be them. look like friends so they won’t be scared. they’re not like us. or, what you will be.”

with that he leaves. everyone is silent as they want to know who exactly is this person. they all expected some rich man with a million connections to be at the door. they hear one voice - an accent is present. he’s laughing, and they hear the sound of them dapping up.

“friend.” the voice says. they must have not seen each other in a long while. “what’s up? how have you been?”

“oh, I’ve never been better.” felix says. “and y/n.”

the sound of your name makes taeyong’s heart stop in his chest. what the? how could you of all people be here? you hated drugs. this was clearly a trap house. this is where taeyong would go to get everything you wanted, but you always refused to go with him. what male had you here?

jaehyun is smiling as he recognizes your name too. taeyong can’t notice though as he is genuinely about to have a panic attack.

“come downstairs will you? since chan told me it was a special occasion, I decided I’d let you two take a look.”

“felix...are you running a trap house?” you joke, not realizing how true your words were.

“not at all, sweets.” he relaxes you. “i just have good shit from my brother that needs to be sold. this is our little secret though.”

“we know.” chan answers for you. “snitches get stitches.”

“and end up in ditches.” felix finishes. “there are people down here, but they’re just chilling. don’t be scared.”

the three of you make your way down to the basement. jaehyun is the first face you recognize. you feel sick, but he didn’t phase you that much.

the black haired boy though, sandwiched between two other guys, makes your trip and fall on the disgusting floor.

it’s him. it’s really him.

why? all you wanted to do was have fun. all you wanted to do was forget him.

you can see in his eyes does he want to explode. but this was his fault. this was all his fault.

to be continued...

#nct #nct 127 #nct imagine #taeyong nct #NCT angst #nct reactions #taeyong series #taeyong angst #taeyong imagine #nct imagines #NCT series #stray kids #stray kids felix #chan stray kids

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kisskissbanggang · 5 years ago

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Hello Stranger

[14K Words/1Hr. Read - Teacher!Bang Chan x Admin!Female Reader - Fake Relationships, Guest Appearances, Fluff, Smut, Slow Burn, New Teachers, Vanilla, Office Sex, Allusions To Troubling Subjects]

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You should’ve expected a phone call when you read the email. At least then you would be somewhat prepared for the verbal lashing you were currently receiving from one of your greatest teachers.

“I’m sorry, but — wait, you know what? No I’m not, I’m not sorry — but I am not staying here with this dumpster fire waiting to happen! He’s wrecking the department — Johnny, let me talk — and I didn’t even want him here to begin with. Congratulations, ma’am, you torpedoed my program I worked so hard to build.”

Doyoung paused, waiting for you to call his bluff, to appeal to his good side as usual. He was right. He’d done so much for his school — for the district, really, and this was getting out of hand. Johnny could be heard behind him, the poor principal having apparently had his desk phone wrestled away from him to begin with.

“Mr. Kim,” you spoke into the phone, mustering all the confidence you had in you, “what do you want me to do? I mean it. Tell me what you want.”

“He goes or I go,” Doyoung dramatically laid out into your ear. Johnny could be heard trying to console the raving teacher before Doyoung apparently ducked him every few seconds. “I’m losing my mind. I have 150 students becoming fucking hypnotized and they’re influencing their peers like the plague.”

“Besides losing either of you,” you carefully negotiated, “what do you want me to do? I value your input; I always have. Dig into the meat with me here, please.”

“I will not teach beside some noble renegade who wears hoodies to class and asks his students to call him by his first name. I won’t teach in the same building, nor in the same school. This is dangerous, and you know it is. For all the money you’re throwing at PR this year you could be putting it in your students.”

You hated that Doyoung was right. This was not a great start to the year. A sigh escaped that you had not meant for, and Doyoung audibly steeled himself on the other end of the receiver. He was waiting now.

“I’m coming down there,” you announced. Apparently Johnny heard you, a god fucking dammit being heard behind Doyoung’s shoulder. Doyoung, however, was sated.

“Fine,” he replied, but he didn’t sound fine. He sounded like he was surprised he got anywhere. “I’m sorry I got so upset.”

And like that, Doyoung hung up. You slumped down in your chair, having been pacing your otherwise pristine office for the past 15 minutes which had felt more like 15 hours. You were fussily rearranging your desk, trying to calm yourself back down when your assistant finally felt it was safe enough to poke her head into your office.

“Ma’am—” Yeji greeted before you held up a hand to stop her. You pinched the bridge of your nose in exasperation.

“How many more calls this week?”

“Only four,” she replied. A relieved sigh softened your tense shoulders as she set the personnel file you requested on your desk.

You felt so old now, run ragged by all the mayhem, but it wasn’t so long ago that you were young yourself. Even then, you still were according to most standards. You were the youngest assistant superintendent to ever serve the district, a set of magnet schools within the city comprised of one private Montessori primary school, one public STEM-focused junior high, and one private-public hybrid high school of the arts. You pined for the ultimate position, but that chair was long occupied by Mr. Simmons, a token favorite of the school board. He called you dear and was always acting like some big man pitying a little girl. However, this didn’t mean you hadn’t tried like hell to make an impression.

Your first three years had been a terrific uphill trajectory. In year one, you brought on Doyoung to replace the retiring choir teacher and head of the music department at the high school. To date, he’d brought in more accolades than his predecessor did in twice the time. For your second year, you collaborated with your junior high on an agricultural enrichment program that offset food costs district wide to the point you could improve offerings in all three cafeterias. This year, you re-established the district PTA. Doyoung’s rabid Booster Club and the parents of the junior high’s robotics team made up the first meeting, and more and more parents had joined since.

So it only seemed fair that this year was your first true hurdle. It had been such an innocent decision: you took a proposed program from the junior high and adapted it for your high school students. A music production and distribution program was a clean, sleek idea that was sure to impress the PTA and enrich the lives of your students in their already affluent music department and work as a dual credit with the business side of the class. What you hadn’t betted on, however, was what exactly a young teacher could get into in a high school setting.

Chris Bang wasn’t naive — you were sure of it, looking at his portfolio. He’d cut his teeth independently producing from a young age and gathering a loyal following online. This was a concept you understood well enough, but had a time and a half explaining to anyone older than you, it seemed. Anyone older than you, but also especially Doyoung, who was very fiercely proud of his hard work to get his double Masters in Choral Conducting and Music Theory at 21 and didn’t have the patience for homegrown prodigies. You couldn’t blame Doyoung, really, even with his dramatics. His competition choir was a force to be reckoned with — surprisingly disciplined, endlessly talented, and ravenously competitive — and now two of his students were wrapped up in all this, too, and that was just the extent you were aware of.

You tapped out an IM to Yeji from your desktop, asking her to come back into your office, and she dutifully popped in a few seconds later. She pulled up a chair in front of your desk as you rested your head in your hands for a moment. “Tell me, Yeji,” you sighed, “what’s your read on this?”

“Well, ma’am,” she mulled it over, “it’s not great. It’s awful, really. But it’s hard to tell by now what’s real, what’s a cry for attention, or what feels real but is actually just the zeitgeist. You know how this is, what it can turn into.”

You did. You’d remembered your own whirlwind feelings at a similar age, even just out of high school. Strangers and dissenters had a hard time believing it, but before you had assumed the role of meticulously poised and proper, you were frustratingly belligerent and stubborn like many of your peers when you were younger. It was easy to recall how real, how present every moment was at the time, but you didn’t even remember the whole story now. In fact, you hadn’t thought of that story in ages, but you were suddenly reminded of the smell of pine trees and sugar, the cool electricity of being out past midnight. It was quite possibly the most excited you’d ever felt, but now you couldn’t remember the fine details, the corners sanded down to curves over time. To your students, these letters were the most exciting and dramatic thing to ever happen to them, and if they would remember the details later on would depend on how you handled the situation.

The first letter surfaced just a week before, and online of all places. A full declaration of this girl’s undying love for Chris and all of the very, very, very inappropriate things she wanted to do with him, found in an envelope on the keyboard outside his office and posted online before he could ever see it. The next letter was eventually found two days later, apparently picked up from where it had missed the trash can: a 17 year old boy, feeling emboldened enough to finally profess who he was — gay, madly in love with Chris, and willing to risk it all. A third was stolen from a girl’s backpack from some bullies and she had been a wreck, so sure that Chris had picked one of the other two and she’d missed her chance. That girl hadn’t returned to school yet. Who knew what else was going on in the hallways, in the cafeteria and bathrooms, in the parking lot after school?

Four more parents contacted your office, according to Yeji. Four more letters. And now Doyoung was threatening to quit, for added reasons you hadn’t even been aware of. You flipped through Chris’ personnel file, hoping not to find any red flags, but hopefully find any reason this spiraled out of control, anything other than tumultuous teenage life wreaking havoc on your students.

Your sigh renewed in spades as you glanced at your assistant again. “Who do you remember most from high school?”

Yeji’s eyes were cast downward as she thought about it. “Other than my friends? Probably the student teacher in my auto class,” she blissfully reminisced. “The teacher would sleep half the time and the student teacher would just teach us whatever we wanted to know and what we needed to know for tests. I remember I had the biggest crush because of that.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.”

“Sorry, ma’am,” Yeji gave an apologetic smile. “What about you?”

Her question knocked you off your feet for a moment. For some reason, you hadn’t been expecting it, but you immediately had an answer. “Aside from friends? Weirdly enough,” you began, “someone I didn’t meet until graduation.”

As sickly sentimental as the thought of it was, it was true. You didn’t even remember that boy’s name anymore, but you’d met exactly three times before you left for college. He had been hanging out by the bonfire on the beach at a grad party no one had expected to get so crazy. You couldn’t remember your conversation, but you could remember his bleached hair tucked under a beanie catching your eye as he sat by himself, his friends apparently wreaking havoc on their own somewhere. His lip ring was crooked, and in a fit of beer-buzzed confidence you’d fixed it for him while you talked about the phony gravitas of graduation. You’d almost kissed him, too, connecting over things that seemed way more kismet than they probably were when your friends finally made you walk home with them.

You gathered up the rest of your patience and courage as you bid Yeji goodbye until your return and headed out to your car in the lot, making the tedious journey to the high school. The handsomely vintage architecture was charmingly modern inside the gates and within its walls, but not overly so. However, this also meant the school was a hike and a maze to navigate through to find the music department. You were distracted, though, missing a turn here or there and having to turn back a couple times now that you were suddenly remembering your clandestine romance from years ago. What was his name? It wasn’t even that long ago. Had so much really happened since then? You wracked your brain. He had a reasonably fresh and nice scratcher tattoo on his bicep, you remembered, but you couldn’t remember what it was for some reason, just like his name. He had to have said it in one of these memory bites.

The second time you’d met, he’d been handing out flyers on the boardwalk for his own show at a rave in a warehouse on the other side of town, out where the beach met the woods. He’d seen you before you’d seen him, and he had popped up with a greeting of Hello, stranger. He had made you promise to be there, which is where you met the third and final time later that night. He greeted you again the same way. Hello, stranger. You’d thought it was cute then, and still did, which must be why you still remembered that detail, at least. He liked your shoes, your worn work boots you’d picked up at a thrift store and refused to get rid of despite all the times your parents asked.

Those warehouse shows were always nuts, all sorts of vendors arriving who were willing to shack up with any event that passed through. He had bought you cotton candy from one of these vendors when you met him after his set and you chatted as you walked along the tree line, talking about his dreams of becoming rich and famous on his own terms. He kissed you, once, and you tasted his lip ring and spun sugar for weeks. You found yourself wondering now if he ever did become rich and famous.

Doyoung gave you a passing glance in the hall as you stalked towards Chris’s classroom: he looked impatient but thrilled and, sure enough, well dressed in his usual suit and tie. You wondered if this new staff member was exactly what Doyoung was fear mongering. Maybe it was simply a difference in values. This was Chris’ first year teaching professionally, you remembered, and now you felt miserably guilty. What a horrible way to start a career. You hadn’t even visited your new teacher since he began, but just the door outside his room was a mess. Doyoung’s fretting made more sense now. Even though you’d only gotten four phone calls, Chris’s classroom door was plastered in letters.

The door creaked and fluttered as you opened it and peeked your head inside. The room was devoid of any human presence. For a space that needed to serve multiple purposes, it was sparsely filled except for classroom materials and equipment. Regular desks and chairs filled the floor as opposed to risers or music stands like in the other department classrooms, but there was still a soundproof practice room in the back of the room, and only the recording equipment stored around the room gave any hint to the classroom’s purpose. To deal with the mess after the third letter, a sub was leading Chris’s classes in the library, but you at least expected to find him here himself, or at least some posters or framed photos. You peeked inside the small office at the head of the classroom, finding it just as empty as well, but with some more personality. A few extra milk crates of visibly nicer vinyl records for sampling and listening were stacked beside the desk along with a nicer record player than what was by his desk out in the classroom. Some books sat on a shelf with a modest cactus in the corner, and finally some photos: Chris shaking hands and smiling with tons of industry players and friends, and occasionally appearing in one of those hoodies Doyoung had been warning of. He did own suits, apparently. Multiple. And he looked good in them.

A polite cough surprised you at the door of the office.

You whirled around, the sun outside silhouetting Chris as he stared at you in his dimly lit office. “My office hours are cancelled this week. May I help you?”

It was your turn to cough, clearing your throat. He was certainly young. He was certainly handsome, his grimace pronouncing the charming dimples in his cheeks. He certainly didn’t dress like a teacher. Chris stood in the doorway of his own office, looking at you curiously in his hoodie, jeans, and sneakers. He even had a backpack hung on his shoulder and a bag of greasy fast food in his hands. He suddenly looked down at it, embarrassed.

“I, er, wore out my welcome in the teacher’s lounge, it seems,” he sighed out a sullen laugh. “And I needed some fresh air.”

“Mr. Bang, I—“

“Call me Chris,” he insisted with a tired grin. Your heart shamefully thumped at how friendly and cute he was. It was easier to pretend you didn’t hear him. He stepped around you and dropped down into his desk chair. He silently gestured at his food, appearing to ask if you were alright if he ate while you talked. You nodded. He dug into the bag and cheekily offered you a fry. You coolly shook your head.

“I’m sorry we have to meet like this, but as assistant superintendent—“

Chris sputtered, standing up from his chair as he choked down the fry he’d just put in his mouth. “Ma’am,” he gasped finally, “I didn’t—“

“I know,” you nodded again. You waved up a hand in understanding. “Please, sit back down. I wanted to come by and see how you’re doing, considering the current state of affairs.”

Chris stayed standing, uneasy and fidgeting. “Alright, what do you want? Is this it? Please don’t suggest I need an attorney, I don’t think I can handle it.”

“What?” You asked, surprised.

“I’m sorry for snapping,” Chris lamented, “but I’ve gotten dozens of emails and messages through the school portal from parents and students asking me if I did anything, and it’s doing my head in.”

“They’re what?!” You hadn’t even considered anyone actually thought the teacher was guilty of anything. He nodded gravely.

“Read the letters outside!” His demand came out brokenly as he pointed behind you. “They’re begging me and taunting me to do all sorts of shit. Confess, quit, fuck them — all sorts of awful trash that I never even imagined. I just wanted to teach. I don’t know why the hell this is happening to me.”

You had no idea about any harassment. This looked bad. It looked bad to your students, their parents, the staff — everyone. You pulled out your phone from your purse and brought up the PR rep’s number, now on your speed dial. “You didn’t do anything.”

“Of course I didn’t—“ he sputtered before you cut him off.

“I wasn’t asking, Mr. Bang. You didn’t do anything and I believe you. A good superintendent would support good staff. Your first few months brought nothing but praise past my office.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Chris quietly said. He finally sat down as you dialed the rep. She would be by shortly. You found another chair hiding under a pile of books and cds and moved them so you could sit. Chris was looking at you oddly now as you hung up, sitting closer than you’d normally like in the small office. You shifted uncomfortably. Chris offered you a fry again before you stiffly refused once more. He shrugged and began inhaling his food in earnest.

“Hungry?” You asked sarcastically, instantly regretting it. There was no sense in kicking him while he was down.

“Emotional eater,” he clarified around a mouthful, equally sarcastic in your resumed awkward silence. You considered the young teacher in front of you. If you recalled the personnel file, he wasn’t just a brand new teacher, he was new to the area as well. A rumor apparently spread among the students and even some of your staff that he had been running away from something, but you never paid that any attention until you were actually in the same room with him. He caught you zoning out in his direction, an eyebrow raised as he paused on his mouthful of food, and you sheepishly pulled out your phone and checked your agenda until your rep finally found you hiding out together in the tiny office.

Ryujin had become your go-to girl since the school year started but even more so over the past week. Public relations for a school district should never have to become very high-maintenance work, but Ryujin was quickly proving herself over-qualified for the job. She stood in the doorway, tall and cool in her confidence despite her short stature as she looked over the situation.

“Stand up,” she simply directed Chris.

He gave you a quick glance, not moving until you nodded. Chris set his food down and stood, hands in his hoodie pockets as Ryujin circled him. He warily shied away from her prodding as she pinched and pulled at his clothes, looking at tags and labels. She fiddled with the cute studs in his ears, tugged on the strings of his hoodie to draw him more to her level, and ruffled his dark, fluffy hair to look for showing roots or product. Ryujin looked at you now. “This isn’t so bad,” she told you decidedly.

Chris was confused, left about ten miles behind the conversation. “Why—“

“What do we do?” You asked. Chris looked wildly between both of you as you decided his fate without him. “We’re dealing with harassment now.”

“Of course we are,” Ryujin nodded thoughtfully, “I mean, look at him.”

“Hey!” Chris rightfully looked offended, even as you held up a calming hand to settle him down. Ryujin impatiently waited for you to let her continue.

“He doesn’t look like a teacher, he doesn’t act like a teacher, he’s under 30, and— I’m sorry— he’s cute. He was bound to get eaten alive when his students are only a few years younger than him and he has no experience.”

“So,” you reiterated, “what do we do?”

“He can go back to teaching,” Ryujin ruled, “but he has to look and act the part. No more first-name basis, no more street clothes.”

“This is so ridiculous!” Chris laughed in disbelief.

Both you and Ryujin glared at him now before she continued. “He’ll have to make a statement first. I’ll write it, of course. He can speak at the next PTA meeting. But —“ she turned to face him for once, “you shouldn’t be alone. Do you have a spouse? A partner? Some boyfriend or girlfriend?”

Now you shared Chris’ confused look. “Why does that matter?”

Ryujin folded her arms. “I don’t mince words. Sympathy, mostly. For anyone worrying, he’ll clearly appear to have support. For anyone who is doubting him, he clearly appears to have a loyal and loving presence in his life that can attest to Mr. Bang never having any nefarious predilection for his students and never intending to inspire any regrettable actions. It’s ultimately a similar reason to why I suggested you should wear a wedding ring.”

Your face heated up once again at being outed in front of your staff member. Ryujin had suggested a fake wedding ring ages ago when you first hired her. The moment you were appointed, parents instantly began doubting you. Even Superintendent Simmons, a parent himself, questioned you at your third interview. How could you — a young woman with no spouse and no children of your own — ever deign to understand what it’s like to raise and nurture one? The sheer stubbornness that you felt in response to that sentiment made you refuse such a placating notion as a fake wedding ring. Chris seemed to notice your embarrassment before he piped up himself, almost seeming to want to change the subject back for your sake.

“No,” Chris said simply, “I’m single and fine with it.”

“Look,” Ryujin rolled her eyes, “that is fine. Find a fake, then. It just needs to look real. It’s not fair, but these parents will assume you’re a better person if you’re not single in this situation. They need to see that you’re a loving and committed professional who just wants to teach and nurture young minds. The next PTA meeting is this Thursday night. Today is Tuesday, so you have a little time, but not much. Consider it, and I’ll have an optional line in your statement for whatever you decide. Do you have a suit?”

“For funerals and weddings,” Chris grumbled.

“A sweater is fine then,” Ryujin shrugged. She put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “This is going to be fine. Let me know if you need anything.”

“You’re leaving?” You realized with thorough embarrassment that you sounded distressed.

“Unfortunately, yes,” she sighed, “the Superintendent wants a meeting about his son or something. You will be fine. Keep me updated.”

Ryujin ghosted out the door as fast as she’d come, and Chris reeled. “The nerve! I can’t believe her, can you?”

“Yes,” you nodded seriously, “I can. She’s right.”

“Oh, come on!” Chris blustered. You stood back up now, gathering your bag in the crook of your arm and straightening the carefully pressed collar of your suit jacket.

“I don’t want to see you have to end your career so soon, Mr. Bang,” you sympathized as you pulled out a business card from your purse and handed it to him. “Again, I’ve only heard good things about you until all this. Call me if you need anything. You shouldn’t have to face this alone.”

Things settled for one day. And then Thursday morning happened. Yeji was pale as you entered the office in the morning.

“John called from his cell.”

You checked your watch. First period was just starting at the high school.

God dammit.

You jogged into your office, grabbed the phone, and dialed him back. Johnny was out of breath. “I have a situation,” he panted into the phone. You could hear shouting behind him. Specifically, you could hear Doyoung shouting behind him. God dammit.

The tires on your car screeched as you peeled out of the parking lot of the admin building, tearing across town and barely breathing until you passed through Johnny’s office on your way into the building. He was icing his cheek with a cold pack from the nurse, his tie loose and slack around his neck and his suit jacket haphazardly slung over the back of his chair. Before you could say anything, he just shook his head with a disappointed laugh before returning to work at his computer. You walked quickly through the hallway, students watching you from their first period classrooms until you reached the music department. Taeil, the band teacher, closed Doyoung’s door behind him as he saw you in the hall.

“Ma’am,” the teacher greeted, thoroughly exhausted, “I wouldn’t go in there. We already called a sub for the rest of the day and I took Doyoung’s kids to the library for independent study.”

“Thank you, Mr. Moon,” you thanked him graciously, “do you have any idea what happened?” Taeil shrugged helplessly. His tie was crooked as well, his rolled sleeves uneven. You looked over at Chris’ room, open to the hall. Letters had shuffled off the door and onto the hallway floor. “Take care of Doyoung,” you instructed Taeil, “make sure he’s okay and that he gets home alright.”

Taeil nodded and let himself back into Doyoung’s classroom as you carefully approached Chris’. The room was dark, books and papers strewn across the floor. You cautiously switched on the light, only to find the teacher slumped in his chair at the head of the room, icing his own face with a metal water bottle. He silently glanced at you and sighed as you rushed over to check on him. You set your purse on his desk and gingerly pulled the water bottle away, sharing Chris’ sigh as you saw the bruise on his cheek. It felt a bit gross to still find him so frustratingly handsome in this moment.

“What happened?” You softly asked him. Chris sank into the chair and gave a dejected shrug, helpless to recollect. And he didn’t get much of a chance to even try, as a commotion erupted in the empty hallway. Doyoung stood fuming in the doorway with Taeil futilely attempting to pull him away.

“So you are here,” Doyoung grimaced at you before he shot a glare at Taeil, “why are you lying for her? Everyone is treating me like I’m insane and I’ve had it.” He stormed over, only stopped as you turned to press a confrontational hand to his chest. Doyoung had quite the busted lip.

“Mr. Kim, I know tensions are high—” you began staunchly before Doyoung steamrolled you.

“Do you?! Do you even know what happened?” He leaned to the side, staring daggers into Chris. “Tell her, you sorry excuse of a—“

“I’m telling you, Kim, just like I have been telling you,” Chris glowered, “I have no fucking clue what you’re talking about! You’re the one who came in here looking to start a fight.”

“You’re a goddamn liar!” Doyoung shouted. You put your hands on his shoulders, making him look at you.

“Tell me, then, Mr. Kim.”

Doyoung shiftily looked back and forth between the two of you. “Tell you what, ma’am?” he grumbled. “Tell you that I had the joy of overhearing one of my brightest students talking with her friends during zero period, bragging about fucking in his practice room? Tell you that she’s just a freshman? Tell you that I caught her and her friends giggling as she wrote her own fucking letter?”

Doyoung pulled a crumpled piece of notebook paper out of his suit jacket and shoved it into your hands. You looked back at Chris, his shaking eyes horrified as he was apparently hearing this all for the first time.

“I admit, I took matters into my own hands. I flew off the handle. Why, though, would I come to you with all this first, ma’am?” Doyoung pleaded. You recognized the helpless heartache in his eyes, hating how much he was losing his students. “You wouldn’t come to me first if I asked for your help. You’d go straight to him.”

You glanced down at the notebook paper in your hands, catching glimpses of curly, naive confessions, and you looked back at Chris again. He didn’t look guilty. You didn’t want him to be. You wanted this all resolved, as cleanly as possible before you possibly wrecked the year before winter break. You thought fast.

“I did go to him first, Mr. Kim,” you conceded, quiet yet confident, “and I apologize if my actions come across as selfish, but this ordeal has caused quite the strain on mine and Chris’ relationship, even more so since it’s still fairly new.”

Doyoung backed up, aghast as his eyes flicked between the two of you again. His normally soft gaze was pure hellfire. “You’re kidding me,” he shook his head in disbelief. He had no interest in waiting for a confirmation before he turned to storm off, herding Taeil along with him.

Chris was staring at you when you turned back to face him, shocked as he was at your sudden plan. “Why the hell did you do that?”

You pulled out your phone to dial Ryujin, but before you actually sent the call through, you bored your eyes into Chris, who was still wincing past the bruise on his face. “You still didn’t do anything?”

“Never,” he adamantly shook his head.

“Good,” you nodded. “We will need to talk before the PTA meeting tonight. My assistant will call you with details.” You plucked your purse up from his desk and shouldered it. Chris watched, still stunned as you made for the door. His continued stare made you pause, a hand on the door frame as you turned back to face him. “You’re innocent,” you explained, “but if you quit you’ll be proving everyone who’s doubting you right. It seems like no one is on your side except me, so if no one will do anything then I will. You’ll be fine, Mr. Bang.” With that, you regained your confidence once more to walk down the hall. You caught your breath before you tapped out a message for Ryujin on your phone. Somehow, you didn’t expect her to call you right away.

“I’m sorry, but you what?!” Ryujin exclaimed, stooping you in your tracks from wherever she was.

“You said he needs to find someone and make it look real!” You hissed, trying to keep your composure the best you could in the quiet hallway.

“I didn’t mean you!”

You grumbled out a curse under your breath. “Well, it’s a bit too late for that clarification,” you bit out, “so what do I do now?”

Ryujin could be heard tapping on her cell phone as she spoke to you. “I’m on it,” she assured you, “and I’m sure you already figured you need to talk before the PTA meeting tonight. We need to make sure you’re on the same page. I’m forwarding you the statement I wrote. Hang tight, I’m going to meet you at your place.”

Chris frowned at the suit laid out on top of your couch after you’d extracted it from its garment bag. Ryujin had brought it, on loan from some unnamed resource, complete with notecards of her prepared statement in the breast pocket. “Why does this also feel like proving everyone right for some reason,” he said uncomfortably.

“What exactly is wrong?” You sighed. Chris fidgeted. He looked out of place in your apartment, his soft black hoodie and worn jeans contrasting starkly with your minimalist and meticulously organized sanctuary. His brows were furrowed with impending panic, but he looked determined.

“I’m nervous,” he bemoaned, “tell it to me again.”

“We met over the summer at a cafe downtown,” you explained impatiently.

“That’s so soon for someone like you to be backing up a pariah like me,” Chris laughed, almost on the verge of breakdown, apparently. He was choking down a milkshake. He’d brought you one too, of course, but when you politely refused he took it as a consolation prize. It was incredible to you that he seemed to be in such good shape for how much food he put down. Or, you realized, maybe a catastrophe of this caliber wasn’t very common for him.

“Put on the suit, Mr. Bang,” you urged, “please?”

“Oh my god, you need to stop calling me that if we’re dating!” Chan nervously laughed again.

“Look, I’ll be just fine, I’ll be able to fix it when we’re in front of people,” you insisted, “but you need to calm down.”

“Calm down? I’m having an entire escape plan thrust upon me and I’m trying to adjust.”

“Well,” you huffed as you found yourself meeting his level, “maybe you wouldn’t need this escape plan if you didn’t take such a lax approach to teaching.”

“Excuse me?” Chris asked, blindsided by your outburst.

“Don’t act like you don’t know what people are saying!” You doubled down in defense, squaring up against him as you impatiently folded your arms.

“Why don’t you tell me, ma’am, what exactly people are saying about me?” Chris stood defiantly, toe to toe with you and daring you to follow through. You took the bait.

“You know exactly what people are saying,” you challenged him, “that you refuse to take the role seriously because it’s easier that way. You give these students too much freedom, and you’re encouraging them to act out. Who needs homework? Who needs textbooks? Who needs seating charts? They call you by your first name and think you’re their best friend, that you’re one of them, only older, just like they wish they were! They live and die by your approval because you seem so cool and you don’t seem like a teacher.”

“Oh, so I don’t seem like a teacher now?” Chris scoffed.

“They certainly don’t respect you like one,” you snapped. A deep pause coursed through you both like a cold breeze before he burst.

“Well you sure as hell don’t respect me like one, so why the hell are you helping me?!” Chris shouted.

“Well,” you mocked, quickly losing grip, “here I was thinking it was the right thing to do!” You heaved out a frustrated sigh, throwing your hands in the air and finally turning away as you couldn’t stand to look at him.

However, you may have glossed over the in-progress milkshake that had been in his hands, now currently all over his hoodie and on the spotless hardwood floor of your apartment.

“Oh, great!” Chris laughed incredulously. “I sure look like I could use the help now, Miss Assistant Superintendent. Guess I’ll put on the stupid suit so I don’t make a bigger fool out of myself at my public execution tonight.”

Your face regrettably heated up as Chris frustratedly tugged his hoodie off over his head, his shirt following right after as he fished the pressed white shirt out from within the suit jacket. He had an admittedly nice figure, his toned torso never being hinted at through his comfy wardrobe. A set of tattooed compass roses on his upper arm caught your attention, and you wished you didn’t find it attractively endearing. “I don’t know why I agreed to this,” he ranted, “no one would ever believe I’d date a stuck-up, uptight, tyrant like you.”

“The feeling is mutual,” you fumed as you turned away, not wanting to get distracted, “except no one would believe I’d ever date an arrogant ingrate like you.”

Chris could be heard pacing behind you as he buttoned the shirt, apparently pausing at your mantle over the fireplace. “I bet you were a nightmare as a student, a real grade-grubber and brown-noser,” he grumbled, now seeming to have found your framed photos of you and your friends at graduation, first from high school and then from undergrad. “I’m going to hang myself with this godawful tie— is this you?”

You rolled your eyes as you walked over and snatched his tie out of his fingers to do it yourself. He’d already deftly changed his pants while you weren’t watching. “Sure, that’s me,” you muttered, “and no, I wasn’t a nightmare, thank you very much.” You paused as you felt a shift in his silence and glanced up at him. For the first time you noticed a subtle cologne on him, a gentle musk that was miserably attractive on him and you just wanted to get this over with even faster. Chris was giving you that indecipherable look again as you fiddled with the stupid necktie. From this close, you could see a cute little dot just under his lip, a telltale spacer that more than likely usually held a lip ring and—

Oh.

Hello, stranger.

Chris was gravely silent as he parked in front of your apartment later that night. The PTA meeting had been a disaster, starting the moment you left to travel back to the high school, where the meetings were held in the main theater. A loaded silence had staked itself between you the whole drive, and neither of you had reviewed Ryujin’s statement whatsoever. Nonetheless, you sat and stood close enough to each other during the meeting to be clear but not obscene in what you both were implying with your proximity, and you were faithfully beside him as he approached the podium. It was difficult to ignore the hushed whispers resounding through the audience. Chris’ brazen confidence was all but gone by now, fully broken as multiple hands immediately shot up to get a word in. Chris had forged ahead, though, even as his hands tried not to tremble around his notes. Ryujin’s statement didn’t mince words, just like her. He read out how his inexperience wrongly led him to take a more casual approach to teaching, how he’d recklessly and misguidedly inspired his students to put too much trust in him. He read out what a struggle this presented for both of you, being faced with accusations of such severity, and wishing to regain the trust of the assembled teachers and parents. The hands stayed in the air, and Johnny moderated question after question and Chris adamantly confirmed again and again and again that he had done nothing except naively neglect to put a firmer stop to all this. He was the one, and not Ryujin, to say that he should have brought the letters to Johnny’s attention and not simply ignored them, hoping the situation would stop on its own. More hands kept raising. Seemingly every parent belonging to a letter on Chris’ door was here wanting personal reassurance and, subsequently, a reason from him that their children were acting out. It felt like a never ending ordeal, a constant string of hurt and confused parents needing comfort. Johnny had no words for Chris when he finally ended the meeting, putting him out of his misery. Nothing else got done on the agenda that night. He only clapped a sympathetic hand to his teacher’s shoulder.

You tapped out what happened in a text message to Ryujin. Her diagnosis was optimistic but tough, and in your continued silence in the car, you suddenly realized you were stopped in front of your apartment. Chris was quiet, zoning out at the wheel until you nudged him.

“Ryujin says we can still do this,” you encouraged him. “Enough of the parents should believe you. We just need to make sure the students and staff do, too…. as well as the board.”

Chris leaned forward, letting his head rest against the steering wheel. “I wish they didn’t have to believe me. They’re probably stressed as hell over this. This whole thing is such shit,” he muttered. “We don’t even like each other.”

“We don’t?”

“What?” Chris sullenly chuckled. “Just because we did ages ago?”

“I mean,” you shrugged, “I remembered that pretty fondly. I thought of that kiss all summer.”

“We kissed?”

Ouch.

You sighed. “Fine then. You’re right. We don’t like each other. You’re cocky and naive and I’m…”

“Uptight?” Chris smirked, but he shut his mouth when you clearly didn’t appreciate the jab. “I’m sorry. I do appreciate everything you’re doing, you know. I just… I’m going through it.”

“I know,” you commiserated.

“What do we do now?”

“There’s a board meeting next Wednesday night,” you explained. “You can accompany me to that, and that’ll take care of them. Until then, we keep up appearances at school, now that we’re exposed.”

“How are we doing that?”

“I’ll figure something out,” you reassured him. “What’ll you do now?”

“Oh, you know,” Chris laughed tiredly, “probably go pick up a taco box and try not to ruin this suit.”

You nodded in understanding as you unbuckled your seatbelt and dug around in your bag for your keys. “No hoodies, okay?”

Chris nodded, watching as you stepped out of the car and fussily smoothed your skirt back down. “Do you need me to walk you up?”

“I can manage,” you grinned softly as you pulled something out of your bag. You handed him the offending note from that morning. “I didn’t do this just because I thought you didn’t do anything. This letter is addressed to a Chris but it appears to actually be a student named Christian S.”

“Oh,” Chris grimaced, “isn’t he Superintendent Simmons’ son? I have him in fourth period. He’s one of the first chairs in Taeil’s concert band. He’s sort of… gross, sometimes, about girls. I can’t say I’m surprised, but I’m still disappointed.”

“You alright?”

“I should’ve done something,” he muttered as he sank back into his seat, still staring at the letter.

“Don’t start with that,” you lightly admonished, “it’s not always easy to know when to interfere.”

“Thank you,” Chris said quietly.

“Of course,” you said with a small smile. “Goodnight.”

Johnny and Doyoung did a double-take as you walked into the music department the following day at lunchtime. It only made sense to you that if Chris was trying to dress up more, you’d match him by dressing down more. Your requisite suit and heels were switched out for a simple blouse with some tailored jeans and flats. That alone was a huge step for you, considering you even refused to dress down for the annual Welcome Back picnic for the district staff every year. You felt uncomfortable despite still looking clean and poised, but leagues more approachable apparently, proven as students’ passing glances lingered on their way to the cafeteria. Johnny’s look was simply one of surprise, but Doyoung’s was nothing but bitterness. Even Chris, as he happened to prop open his classroom door when you walked down the hall, was curious to see you looking so casual and chipper as you strutted up to him with a bundle in your arms. He was surprisingly handsome, wearing a blazer over a simple t-shirt with some slim jeans and sneakers — better, but not quite there. He couldn’t help a small smile as you theatrically revealed what you had brought: his cleaned hoodie and shirt folded and draped over a bag of takeout to split.

“Hungry?” You asked sweetly, but hopefully not overdone. A couple of students walked past, their eyes boring into you. Chris looked unfazed, took the hoodie and shirt from your hands and, with a quick look down the hall at Doyoung and Johnny, beckoned you into the classroom with a nod.

“Starving,” he answered with a grin, and even gave Johnny a cheery wave as he promptly shut the door again behind you. “What are you doing here?” He quietly asked you, the dazzling facade of confidence instantly crumbling. His panicked surprise wasn’t lost on you.

“We need to keep up appearances like I said. It’s Friday, you’re going through a hard time, and you’re eating like you grew another stomach. I brought us something to eat,” you explained, pushing the bag into his hands.

“You—“ Chris looked dumbfounded, eyes darting between you and the food in his hands, “— brought me lunch?”

“Yes? What else was this supposed to be? I’m your girlfriend, for all intents and purposes.” You led Chris back into his own office and helped yourself to a seat. “We also need to brush up on our relationship in case anyone asks.”

“Fine,” Chris nodded as he dug into his food. “Let’s study, then. I’m guessing you went to college right after we met, and I’m sure you taught at least a little before this.”

“Grade schoolers,” you nodded, “it was good but not for me. I never asked about your accent.”

“You did, actually. That first time, so that’s probably why you don’t remember. I grew up in Sydney, moved here before junior year in high school. Do you live by yourself? I didn’t see a roommate or any cats.”

“I live by myself,” you confirmed, “I gave up on roommates around the time I took this job. No time for pets, either. I guess I’m too uptight.” Chris winced as you continued. “Yes, I’m aware of it; I guess I’m just sensitive. Did you find a good place in the area?”

“Yeah,” Chris said thoughtfully, “cute little house. You should probably see it sometime.”

“You bought a house?!”

Chris’ ears reddened. “Yes? Again, it’s little. A couple bedrooms, a couple bathrooms. Lots of work to be done on it, but it’s all mine. Here, look.” You watched, momentarily stunned as he fished his phone out of his pocket and clicked it open. He pulled up a surprisingly adorable photo of Chris in front of a humble little house, holding what you could only assume was his dog you didn’t know he had. “Cute, right? Her name is Berry. You should meet her.”

“I’m so sorry,” you shook your head in advance, “but you could afford a house? What brought you to teaching anyway?”

“Producing was good, but not for me,” Chris meekly bit at his lip, “I always wanted to try teaching what I know, and thankfully your team brought me on while I’m still earning my degree.”

“So one day you just decided to be an educator?” You asked dubiously.

“Didn’t you?” Chris seemed more cagey now, more defensive.

“Sure, but maybe this explains your approach to teaching.”

Chris sighed hard and set his food down. “You know what? I knew you were bringing it back to that. Here I was thinking we were on a little better footing after last night. My approach to teaching came from thinking of what I wanted when I was these kids’ age. I wanted someone to treat me with respect and value my opinion and talk to me like an adult.”

“Right,” you nodded, “but that acceptance clearly looks like an invitation to some students.”

“An invitation to what? The other staff are always saying how closed off their students are, but they’re not like that with me. They’re proactive, they’re independent, they’re thoughtful, they’re excited to be here.”

“What about students who aren’t yours?” You challenged him with your stare. It would’ve looked better in a suit. “Your students are in love with you — some of them literally — and it makes them act out with their other teachers, even students who aren’t yours are citing you as their inspiration. Terrific and capable teachers are being defied simply because they’re not you. Admit this is easier for you than establishing and upholding boundaries.”

Chris listened, but he scoffed nonetheless. “Fine. It’s easier. I’m terrified of these kids but I want them to like me and trust me. But even if I assign them homework and treat them like they’re children, that still won’t solve how the teachers don’t trust me.”

“They will,” you impatiently assured him.

“Even Doyoung?”

“Why do you care?!” You gave a stunned chuckle.

“I mean he punched me in the fucking face yesterday,” Chris shrugged. “Is it true you two dated?”

You gaped at him, stunned. “Why do you care?” You repeated. Chris nonchalantly shrugged. “Are you jealous?” You were provoking him on purpose, but there was no use in pretending you weren’t disgusted with this line of questioning.

“No! We don’t even like each other.” Chris was floundering, now facing his desk more than you. “I’m a naive and arrogant asshole and you’re an uptight ballbuster who sold out, remember?”

“Sold out?” You guffawed, standing up now. “Who the hell do you think you are?! I grew up.”

“Right, well—“ Chris barked as he got up to square off against you. “Did you grow into a stuck-up busybody who is more worried about how she looks than how she’s doing?”

Chris’ ears were burning scarlet as you bristled at his words, but he still walked you to the door as you stormed away. “That was too much. I’m sorry,” he apologized sheepishly before he opened the classroom door into the hall.

“Go fuck yourself, Mr. Bang,” you quietly gritted out, despite your saccharine smile in case anyone was watching. “I’m helping you and then I’m never speaking to you again.”

You were right back in your suit jacket and skirt on Monday, having stewed all weekend over how much more you hated doing this with Chris now. Worse, you hated feeling like he was right. He was shamefully attractive and smart and funny and charming and as much as you hated it — he was right. Somewhere between getting your teaching degree and getting offered your job, you’d become incredibly jaded by the people around you, but not without reason. Even now, the only people who went out of their way to make sure you didn’t feel like you were some child were Ryujin and Yeji… and Chris. Doyoung had, too, which was why you had dated briefly, but now he had joined everyone else in babying you like you were bound to fail. That wasn’t even mentioning the board, made up of all men from old money who mostly seemed to hire you for humor and bragging rights. Even still, this wasn’t even mentioning Superintendent Simmons, who talked to you like he was a lion with a mouse in its paws.

So, sure, you had reasons to be aloof around the people surrounding you, but Chris’s nagging was starting to bother you. Yes, you were leagues more organized and fastidious than you had been growing up, and you even took some solace in sprucing up your space, but you also had to recognize you were quick to do that instead of facing problems at times. It was easy to organize the kitchen for the fourth time or clean out your closet, but it wasn’t always easy to deal with adult problems. You took great pride in your appearances, because looking capable helped you feel capable, but did that mean you were? It was difficult to say, almost as difficult as deciphering Yeji’s bemused look on your way into the office on Monday.

A gorgeous bouquet of flowers was sitting on your desk. You curiously walked over, plucking the small envelope from within the buds and gently prying it open.

Hello Stranger,

1. Are these still your favorite color? You mentioned it years ago so I could be wrong.

2. I’m sorry about Friday again. I know I’m a hot-head and what I did was terrible. You’re not stuck-up, and you’re not a tyrant. When I think back to that summer, I thought we were on the same page, and now you make it look so easy while I feel like I’m completely lost and failing the whole time. I appreciate you helping me. Thank you.

A stiff sigh fell from your lips as you looked at the note in your hands, with Chris’ dumb, nice handwriting giving you a feeling you couldn’t quite place. You quickly paged Ryujin and Yeji into your office. Once both girls were sat waiting for you, it was time for the dreaded question.

“What do people think of me?”

Both girls looked like they’d seen their lives flash before their eyes as you sat at your desk and did some quick typing. When you showed them your screen, they both gasped. There was you, all acne and unfortunate appearance choices at your high school graduation. “It’s not a loaded question,” you promised, “think of it more as a confirmation. I think I’m trying too hard to hide this person.” You gave the girl in the photo a sympathetic look. She was bright, funny, and brimming with potential — even you could see that.

Yeji surprisingly sighed out her answer first. “The other office staff were still whispering about you when you hired me. They said you just wanted to hire other young women to look progressive.”

All three of you rolled your eyes at the sentiment before Ryujin piped up. “The board does like you… because they think you’ll do their bidding. They think you’re ruthless. The teachers think you have an iron fist. The Superintendent? Well, you know how he feels.”

A sour grimace pulled at your lips. “Why don’t I like any of that?”

“Is it because it’s not what she would want?” Yeji thoughtfully asked you as she nodded in the direction of the photo on your computer screen. You thought back to what Chris had said, about wanting to be the person he wanted around at that age. It was such a trip, thinking of what that girl would do if she saw you now. She’d give you a belligerent sneer and close herself off from you because you were a cold witch and you knew it. The girls watched as your shoulders softened, sinking into your chair as you pulled out your phone and found Chris’ number that Yeji had fetched for you.

>>Thanks for the flowers. I’ll be by tomorrow so we can try this all again before the board meeting dinner on Wednesday.

There were decidedly less stares as you walked down the halls of the high school again the next day when the lunch period began. You saw Johnny try to catch your attention out of the corner of your eye, but you simply waved as you passed his office. You had a sneaking suspicion it was about your outfit. As opposed to Friday’s jeans, you felt much more comfortable being more comfortable as opposed to someone you thought you should be. The pencil skirt remained, only now in a cozier dark pallet and much comfier material. The biggest changes were pairing the skirt with a soft flannel shirt and a smart pair of suede oxfords. You felt exposed in how dressed down you were again, but Chris’ surprised smile as you stood in the doorway of his classroom reassured you. He looked good, his hair moderately styled back and wearing another smart blazer over another old band tee. You could see he was even wearing chinos today, still managing to coordinate them with some worn boots not unlike the pair you used to own all those years ago. It was a good look, one that made you a bit more bashful than you had been already.

“Hello, stranger,” you cheekily greeted from the doorway.

“Hey,” he smiled back, motioning for you to come in.

“Hungry?” You asked, fishing a bag out of your purse and placing it in his hands. He peered inside as you set your purse on his desk.

“Are these—?”

“I felt so awful this weekend,” you sighed as you leaned against his desk, still unable to keep from straightening stacks of his papers, “and especially after yesterday. I couldn’t think straight so I cleaned my apartment and made you some cookies.”

“You made me cookies?” He asked incredulously before taking a bite. You could’ve sworn his eyes actually sparkled for a moment. “Alright, these are so good there’s no way you still can’t think straight.”

“You’re right,” you nodded. “Just like you were already right, about almost everything. But you left one detail out.”

“What’s that?” Chris grinned around a mouthful of cookie.

“You make it look pretty easy yourself,” you smiled softly. Chris raised an eyebrow.

“I find that hard to believe.”

“I know you do,” you laughed, “but it’s true! You’ve already done just fine in an industry of your choosing and impulsively decided to become an educator? And you just happen to be financially smart enough to have a house already? It’s reckless but it’s admirable.”

Chris choked on the last of his cookie, his dark hair falling out of place as he composed himself. “I, er, should be up front about that.”

“About what?”

“About deciding to change directions,” Chris sighed. “I had a giant proposal on my hands. I could have had my own company and my own team, but it was a huge investment entirely depending on me and my success. I froze up. I had enough. It felt way too big. I got rid of my fancy apartment, I got rid of my suits and watches, and I just moved.” A sigh fell from Chris’ lips as he folded his arms. He couldn’t meet your imploring stare. “I wish I could do what you do,” he continued. “I want to march headfirst into every single thing no matter what people think of me.”

A surprised laugh escaped you before you could stop it. You covered your mouth as your face heated up. “I’m terrified,” you explained. “Just like you were scared to take that chance, just like you and most of us are reasonably scared of these kids — I’m terrified. I’ve worn suits to attend sports events and picnics with the staff from how terrified I am of them.”

“Well, you look really good today,” Chris beamed at you, but the distracted nuance of his gaze didn’t let it last long. You playfully sat back on his desk, trying to keep his mood up.

“I feel good today.”

“I lied, by the way,” Chris sheepishly blurted. “I know we kissed that night. I thought about it all the time. I didn’t go out with anyone for almost a whole year, I thought about it so much. If you knew I still remembered, I would be too tempted to get distracted. But I’m getting distracted anyway, so I thought you should know. You look really good today.”

A flattered smile pulled at your lips as you reached for Chris’ hand where it rested on the desk. His hand was warm and gentle in yours and he looked up at you, silently gauging your look to see if it was alright to lean up more into your space… when your phone buzzed with a message. It was Johnny.

>I was trying to get your attention when you came in. Simmons is here TOURING THE MUSIC DEPARTMENT. Get that time bomb out of there NOW.

But it was far too late. Superintendent Simmons could be heard talking to Doyoung in the hallway. Chris watched curiously as you whirled around just in time to catch them appearing in the open doorway.

“Yes, Mr. Kim, I’d love to hear your plans for the year but— ah, hello, dear!”

You winced at the use of the word “dear” but fought it back. “Superintendent,” you nodded cordially, “what’re you doing here?”

“I wanted to take a stroll through the department,” the older man coolly insisted, his hands in the pockets of his suit. “I also thought I could finally meet young Christopher here since I wasn’t sure if he was accompanying you to the meeting tomorrow.”

“Why wouldn’t he?” Your question was stated friendly enough, even as you subtly waved a calming hand back to Chris to keep him back.

The Superintendent shrugged. “You know how it is, dear. My son takes his class but I haven’t even met the man before. We’re certainly not exempt from being aware of current goings-on and I wanted to see who all the fuss was about.”

“Do I live up to your expectation?” Chris suddenly asked, unmistakably indignant as he came forward.

“Seeing as my expectations were of a naive, insubordinate, carpe-diem-prescribing kid,” Simmons smirked, “then yes.”

“Excuse me, Superintendent,” you huffed sharply, “but I do not appreciate you speaking to Mr. Bang that way, first as one of my staff members and second as my partner.”

“Oh-ho!” Mr. Simmons threw his head back with a laugh. “Your partner? How unbecoming of you, dear. Now, I would normally do the professional courtesy of discussing this in private, but as you always deem it appropriate to throw a fit, I’ll do it here— you know we need to terminate Mr. Bang. Too much liability.”

A wildfire ignited behind your eyes before you quickly jumped into action. If you had a moment to spare, you would’ve considered the possible consequences. “Mr. Simmons,” you spat, “you know for a fact there are liabilities just as big, if not bigger, right under your nose, just like I know for a fact Mr. Bang is in possession of a confiscated note containing quite the insinuation that your son Christian is having a very close and troubling relationship with one of Mr. Kim’s most promising freshmen.”

You hazarded a look behind you and Chris returned it, petrified. It was a low, risky blow, but an apparently fair one as Mr. Simmons’ eyes grew wide. He stubbornly shook his head. “Christian is a smart boy who is studying hard and has no time—“

“—Christian turned 18 over the summer and wants to have as much fun as he can in high school before he goes to college,” Chris finally spoke up. “He’s said as much in class, and if I recall correctly, that girl is 14. I can show you the letter. He met her at a party that she doesn’t remember but all she knows is she is woefully in love with him. As your son’s teacher I’m a mandated reporter if I think this is an unsafe situation for either of them.”

“You want to play executioner with a man you admitted you just met? Fine,” you warned. “But just like your gossip, you’re not exempt from this, either.”

At that moment, Doyoung sheepishly poked his head into the open doorway, politely coughing to get the attention of Mr. Simmons, who was now sputtering until his face had turned red. “Mr. Superintendent,” Doyoung timidly spoke up, “perhaps you would like to come discuss those plans—“

“Fine time for you to decide to act like a teacher,” Simmons growled towards Chris, before he thrust a fat finger into your chest. “This isn’t done, dear. He’s on thin ice, and now you are, too. Let’s see how long it can hold both of you.” Superintendent Simmons turned on his heel, marching out the door past Doyoung and towards his classroom. Doyoung leaned into the room, giving you both a look that remarkably appeared to be sympathetic support. “Are you alright?” He quietly asked.

You nodded shallowly, still a bit stunned. “Yes, thank you, Mr. Kim.” Chris was seemingly dazed as you turned to face him. “Mr. Bang, can I see you in your office?”

Chris barely nodded himself, having gone pale during your confrontation, and Doyoung silently wished you well before closing the door behind him and trotting down the hall after the older man. You clutched onto Chris’ sleeve and pulled him into his office, guiding him in before you quietly closed the door.

You realized you were breathing heavily, chest rising and falling hard with adrenaline as you looked behind you to check on Chris. He was staring back at you, almost shocked, even as you gently took his hand again to make sure he was alright. His fingers had turned clammy where they squeezed yours, and you shared a brief silence, recovering and staring at each other until he finally spoke up.

“You wanted to see me, ma’am?”

“Yes, Mr. Bang,” you nodded, leaning back against the door and pulling him a little closer. You felt a bit lightheaded. “I wanted you to finish your thought from before we were rudely interrupted.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he nodded dutifully, now cutting right to it as he followed your hand in his to press against you where you leaned against the door. His lips hesitated a mere breath away before he finally kissed you, deep and seemingly driven by every kiss he’d wanted to give you since that night years ago. You could’ve sworn you tasted cotton candy and his lip ring again, maybe even smell evergreen trees if you weren’t mistaken by his cologne. It was electric, re-energizing enough that Chris seemed to finally realize what just happened outside in his classroom.

“Holy shit,” Chris gasped like he just came up for air. “Did I just threaten the—“

Chris’ frantic recollection persisted even as you continued to kiss him. “Did you just warn the superintendent that he is better off tending to matters closer to home in more need of his attention? Yes.”

“Holy shit, I’m going to be fired,” Chris lamented, but even still he let his lips run over your jaw, falling into you and pressing you into the door.

“No, you’re not,” you shook your head as you cupped his face in your hands to make him look at you for a moment. “He would’ve said so. He knows this is bad and it’s going to be a pain to deal with.”

“Wait, you don’t want me to—“

“Report? You just said you should. Honestly, Mr. Kim probably would’ve already if he read the letter more closely in the first place.” You held his gaze as you led his hands around your waist and he quickly got the hint, wrapping around you and diving back into you. “Am I still a ballbuster?” You breathlessly chuckled.

He nodded heartily as he nibbled and kissed your neck. “I love it.” Chris hesitated as he pulled away from your throat, almost asking permission as he kissed you hard against the door, his tongue hot and needy against yours as he almost knocked the breath out of you.

“Mr. Bang—“ you gasped, and you felt him shiver in the cutest way. He seemed emboldened to let his hands get a little braver, following your hint when you led them to the waistband of your skirt, and he fumbled with your shirt as he untucked it and began unbuttoning it. It was a bizarre sensation, feeling so vulnerable to someone you hadn’t known long but had been thinking of for years, and maybe you weren’t the only one. Chris’ breath seemed to catch in his throat as he leaned back enough to see, his hungry eyes falling on you as he pulled open your shirt and became impatient for more. You gasped again as he pushed you back against the door, his strong hands now tenderly roaming down your chest and groping your breasts as he kissed you before he came back to the waist of your skirt again. His confidence seemed to be returning in full now as his hands firmly ran down your thighs to the hem of your skirt, his lips trailing down your chest and nuzzling your cleavage as he gingerly lifted it. Another gasp caught in your lungs as his fingertips wandered up your legs and paused, his trepidation even spreading to the extent that he seemed hesitant to kiss you again. You reached up to gently cup his face, his cheek warm against your palm as you tried to see what could possibly be wrong in this moment. Out there, sure, that was all understandable, but in this tiny office there was no reason for anything to be wrong.

“Mr.—“ you began softly, instantly cutting yourself off as you realized. Oh. “Chris,” you began, more confidently now, “are you alright?”

He sighed out a small laugh before he finally kissed you again. “I am. I just missed you, is all. I’ve been thinking about you. It’s still hard to believe any of this is happening, so Mr. Bang is going to be fine for my students but I’d much prefer it if you and I are more personal than that.”

“I can do that,” you grinned, that stunted gasp from earlier finally coming back and completing as Chris finally let himself caress you under your skirt, getting as personal as you both were yearning for. His fingertips were firm but slow, purposeful as they teased the hem of your panties but continued over them to feel you between your legs, making you so aware of your heat against his hand. He smirked as you shivered at his touch, and you felt your face heat up. “Sorry,” you laughed breathlessly, “it’s been a while.”

“I couldn’t tell,” Chris assured you, finally gasping himself as you regained your mental footing and let your hand drop, trailing down his chest to get an exploratory grip on his growing erection in his pants before you brought him back to kiss you again. His muffled sighs and moans grew feverish as you teased him through his clothes, up to the moment he pressed your hips back against the closed door. You watched curiously as Chris’ lips ghosted down your chest and stomach until he was on his knees for you, dangerously close to nuzzling your damp heat until you let yourself subtly roll your hips towards his mouth. He took the cue to instantly pull the thin fabric aside, just enough that he could dip his tongue into your folds.

Chris couldn’t take his eyes off you as he lapped you up, one hand holding your panties aside and the other clutching onto your bared thigh as you squirmed and mewled for him. Your fingers stroked back through his hair as he held you tight and hungrily licked until he just happened to hit the perfect spot. That, of course, was when he stopped, leaning away and his shiny lips pulled into a mischievous smirk. “I need you so bad,” he drawled, “I’m getting impatient.”

“You?” You giggled sarcastically. “Impatient? Impossible.”

Nevertheless, Chris rocked back onto his feet and pulled you over to his desk before he sat you on top of it, gently pulling your knees apart to step between them. “Are you sure?”

“Definitely,” you nodded. “Do it.”

Chris grinned shyly as he unbuckled his belt and brought his pants down enough to reveal his hard cock, groaning as you brazenly grabbed his length and pumped it a few times in your hand before guiding him into you. You both gasped in tandem now as you were stretched open, and your legs quickly found purchase around his hips as he kissed you again, the faintest taste and scent of your wetness still on his lips. He filled you out unexpectedly, prodding deep into you in this angle and his girth just wide enough at the base to make you whimper each time he bottomed out.

“God, this is so good,” Chris groaned against your lips, “you’re so good. I’ve thought of this so many times.” His groans and whispered curses were hot in your ear as he fucked you on the desk, and you were both lost in this endless moment while you both sounded like you were steadily climbing your respective peaks until you noticed his prolonged smirk.

“What’s so funny?” You jokingly accused.

“Nothing,” Chris shook his head with a breathless smile, “I’m just surprised. I honestly expected you to be a little more in charge.”

“Oh, am I not as dominant as you thought?” You pouted for effect, seeming to only convince him for a second before you kicked him back into his chair anyhow and willingly taking his bait. He watched, his hands clutching the armrests with intrepid excitement as you dropped onto his lap. “Is this more what you had in mind?”

“Actually, yeah,” Chris nodded hungrily as you raised your hips, just enough to pull your panties to the side and grind your soaked pussy against the head of his cock. You both sighed in pleasure at the sensation as you took your sweet time dipping his length into you just the slightest bit, your lips parted to barely kiss him the whole time you teased yourself against him. He actually waited patiently as you barely rolled your hips lower into him, even as he began to get impatient again. “Heh, hey,” Chris laughed under his breath, “aren’t you gonna—“

“Whatever happened to your lip ring?” You asked him, teasingly oblivious to his question.

“My wha— oh, that?” Chris was almost delirious trying to rock his hips up into you. “Don’t laugh, but I didn’t think it looked very professional when I first interviewed. I already wasn’t wearing it out to events and meetings, so not wearing it to school made sense.”

“I’m not going to laugh,” you smirked as you playfully pretended you were about to kiss him over and over, your lips ghosting over his own time and time again as his cock surreptitiously tried to work deeper into you, “but that’s ridiculously funny. You’re literally still wearing your earrings, and don’t try telling me that’s different. Weren’t you waiting for something, by the way?”

“Was I waiting—? Come on, aren’t you going to…?”

“Aren’t I going to what?” You asked innocently. Chris’ head lolled back against the head of his chair in exasperation.

“Aren’t you going to fuck me?” His question was quiet, almost as if he were shy to be saying it out loud, but he asked it nevertheless.

“Sure,” you shrugged casually, “are you going to wear that lip ring for me sometime? I want to see if it has the same effect.”

“Anything, if you’re that easy,” Chris quipped, even as he was unable to hide the excited tremble in his voice.

“I’m easy?” You asked, eyebrows raised as you finally sank deep onto Chris’ erection and kissed him again. His muffled groan was thick, laced with satisfaction as you began to ride him in earnest. The hot moans falling from his lips echoed your own impassioned whimpers, only growing more feverish as you angled your hips down, enabling yourself to grind your clit down against his lap. By now you were so lost in it that were thoroughly soaked through your panties you were still wearing.

“Are you sure you’re not easy?” Chris chuckled exhaustedly, even as he nuzzled against your heaving cleavage and gripped tight onto your hips. It was his turn to whimper as you desperately ran your fingers through his hair to clutch onto him as you felt your peak coming fast. Chris must’ve not been far behind, considering the way he sweetly groaned your name against your skin, as if to personally coax out your orgasm.

The air between you was hot, static, and the way Chris held you was surprisingly affectionate. Despite how much ire and sarcasm had been slung between you previously, now you were both rendered speechless, your staccato breaths falling heavy in the spaces between your sighs and moans. Giving in to Chris didn’t feel like giving up like you had been afraid of for some reason. Reality seemed to be that he may even be quite fond of you, maybe even more than you’d previously imagined, despite how much you did or didn’t change. He obviously wanted to do more than kiss you, and now it seemed he wanted to do more than just fuck you. Chris’ fingertips dug into your hips as he thrust up against you, and you suddenly caught yourself meeting his gaze. The feeling was mutual, apparently, the blown out arousal in his eyes probably echoing your own impending orgasm slowly rising up your spine and making your head spin. He seemed to catch this as he wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight and pressing his lips to your throat as he pistoned his hard length deep inside you, the head dragging along your sensitive walls and daring you to cum.

So you finally did. It hit you hard, giving you barely a moment’s notice for you to grab onto Chris, wrapping your arms around his neck as your core shuddered, radiating out to your quaking thighs and trembling fingers as your heightened moans hit a fever pitch. This, of course, was the final straw for Chris, his orgasm not far behind yours as he tensed up, palms pushing flat against the small of your back as he rutted into you with a broken groan. He uttered a sharp curse under his breath, eyes squeezed shut with the force of his own climax spilling into you as you finished riding out your own on his lap.

It felt like an eternity, wrapped around each other, faces buried in each other’s shoulders as you both fought for breath and you finally realized how cramped it was straddling Chris in his desk chair, the armrests uncomfortably digging into your legs. As if to mitigate this silent complaint you had, Chris gently began to ease you off of him as he simultaneously pulled you to him for a tiredly satisfied kiss. The bright lights in your eyes finally dulled and the imaginary cotton in your ears finally fell out, letting the sound return to normal. You could hear the low drone of the air conditioner, the muted hum of the hard drive in Chris’ laptop, the clatter of the classroom doorknob outside turning open—

Chris heard it, too, with how he bolted upright with you in his lap. You both stared at the door of his office in terror; this was no way for the assistant superintendent to be found, in post-orgasmic bliss with her legs wrapped around a teacher who was still in a heap of trouble, and you had no chance of escape. Footsteps could be heard approaching before Chris quickly pushed at your retreating knees, apparently on the same page as you when he helped you slide off his lap and under his desk. You scrambled forward to grab at his chair and wheel him close as he desperately stuffed himself back in his pants and tried to make himself presentable. A knock came at the door and Chris quickly wiped the accumulated perspiration off his brow.

“Come in—!“ he coughed, trying to sound chipper and casual, and as if he didn’t just orgasm with you barely two minutes prior. He gave you one crazed look to make sure you were alright shoved under the desk before the door to his office gingerly opened.

“Hey—“

Doyoung?

“Mr. Kim!” Chris sat up a little straighter, inadvertently kicking you in your shin in the process and nearly making you curse out loud. You reflexively punched him in the knee, making him jump as he tried to appear natural. “Is everything alright?”

“What, with me? I’m fine. It’s just...” Doyoung sighed, apparently not moving from where he awkwardly stood in the doorway of the tiny office. “Was it true, what you said about the superintendent’s son?”

“It was,” Chris said solemnly. “Would you like to see the letter again?” His question was genuine, any ill feelings towards the other teacher seeming to have dissipated by now. Your ears perked up as Chris leaned forward. You could hear papers shuffled overhead. He still had it? You could hear a piece of paper being handed to Doyoung, whose sigh only multiplied.

“I can’t believe it,” he murmured, “that’s so…”

“I know,” Chris commiserated. “Will Samantha—“

“I’ll talk to Sam,” Doyoung resolved, “but first, about the other day, I’m sorry about—“

“Mr. Kim, you don’t have to apologize,” Chris insisted, “tensions were high, you were upset, and you were protecting your student. If you’d like to help me report this I’d appreciate that. You’re a good teacher.”

“So are you, Mr. Bang,” Doyoung conceded sheepishly. “Maybe you can join me in the teacher’s lounge for lunch tomorrow.”

“I’d like that.”

You could hear the smooth heel of Doyoung’s oxford turn to leave and Chris backed up from the desk. The sigh of relief you both let out revealed that you had apparently been holding your breath. He slumped back in the chair before leaning forward to offer you an assisting hand.

“Oh, one more thing—“

Chris snapped upright in his chair, accidentally kicking you again before his knees knocked into the top of his desk. He grinned through it as he attempted to look nonchalant again. “Yeah?”

“So,” Doyoung began stiffly, “you and her are, like… a thing?”

“Er,” Chris floundered for a second. “Yes. Why?”

“Why? Oh, I mean, it’s nothing,” Doyoung fumbled, “I meant, I guess, is it serious?”

Chris’ Adam’s apple could barely be seen bobbing with his sudden gulp from your vantage point, and you didn’t blame him. Serious? It wasn’t a stretch to imagine his ears turning beet red again. Your thighs were beginning to get sore where you were folded under the desk. “No! I mean, not yet,” Chris said, his stammer matching Doyoung’s now. “I want it to be, though. I really like her. Why?”

Your heart thudded against your ribs. You felt like such a sucker, but why did you also feel so smitten?

“No reason,” Doyoung laughed politely. “I’m happy for you. For both of you. She looks different with you, you know? You look good together. See you later.”

The door finally clicked closed and you both waited for the classroom door to do the same before it was Chris’ turn to let out the breath he’d been holding. He sighed heavily, melting into his chair before sliding back. His gentle hand reached down to help you out from under the desk. You held his hand, his fingers warm in yours as he met your gaze. “Hello, stranger,” he grinned, “did you have fun under the desk?” Chris fussed with your clothes, helping smooth your skirt back out and buttoning your blouse back up before he realized you were staring at him. He suddenly looked concerned, sitting up as he tried to make sense of your expression. “What? Is everything alright?”

“You want this to be serious?”

Chris almost flinched as he defensively tried to figure out your tone. He settled for getting back up from his chair and squaring up against you once again, arms folded matter-of-factly like he anticipated a confrontation. “You know what? I do.”

“This isn’t even real, Chris,” you smirked, flattered by his sincerity. “We don’t even like each other, remember?”

He let out an exasperated laugh. “Holy shit, you nearly gave me a heart attack. Go ahead, then, tell me how we aren’t real.”

“Well,” you smiled, “you haven’t asked me out, for one thing.”

It seemed Chris finally caught up to your game. “Fine,” he sarcastically scoffed. “Would you like to go out with me some time?”

“Sure,” you playfully shrugged with a smile. “How about now? Are you hungry?”

Chris was amused as he pulled you close into his arms. “You know what? I’m actually not.”

#stray kids smut #bang chan smut #kwritersworldnet #kprosenet #bang chan x reader #bang chan breakdown

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minbbyyoongi · 6 years ago

Text

Sickeningly Sweet (Bang Chan VampireAU!

Stray Kids Bang Chan Vampire AU!

summary: You were born to a single mother who you knew very little about. She worked a lot and was always gone before you woke up. You meet a vampire friend of your mothers who is set out to protect you. You find out you’re a Pureblood Vampire, and your time is coming

No warnings rn but the next part will be smut almost for sure lol :)

PART 1

You were 7 when you first saw him. One second you were holding hands with your mother walking through the busy streets of New York and the next you were alone, being pushed in every direction. You made your way through the crowds and stood on the side of the street against a little shop, cornering an alley. You were starting to look in every direction for your mom when hands slipped over your mouth and waist. Whoever it was held your arms against your side with a bruising strength and no matter how much you struggled, he didn’t budge. You watched the entrance of the alleyway get farther and farther away as the man carried you in deeper.

“You smell delicious, darling.”

The man moved to hold your hands behind your back with one of his and he turned you to face him. You were shaking and you could feel tears well up in your eyes. He leaned forward and sniffed up your collarbone to your neck.

Within a second he was on the ground, a pale blonde man standing over the two of you. He looked unreal. The blood red pupils over the stark white of his eyes made it seem like they were glowing, bringing an eery red hue to surround him.

“If you touch her again, I won’t be so gentle. Feeding on kids? You’re disgusting. Get out of my sight, now!”

Your savior wasn’t yelling but his voice was aggressive and demanding. The other man scrambled out from under the blonde mans gaze and almost disappeared in the blink of an eye.

“Let’s go.”

He used the same, dominant tone and reached a hand out to you without looking down. You didn’t know what else to do so you grabbed his finger and immediately you felt yourself get swept up into his grip and it felt like you were on a rollercoaster. When the feelings faded you were balled up in this mans arms hanging on for dear life.

“Go inside, call your mother. Tell her you’re safe at home and you’ll be okay alone. Tell her Chan’s got it covered.”

You stared at the man with wide eyes and a blank expression.

“Are you Chan?”

Your voice was little and weak, you sounded terrified and the vampire before you took notice.

“My name is Christopher Bangchan, you can call me whatever you’d like doll.”

He smiled awkwardly at the end of his sentence and you giggled.

“Chris, thank you for saving me.”

You shuddered at the memory that popped into your head at that statement and Bangchan put a hand on your shoulder.

“Forget about it kid, and don’t worry. Ill be out here to protect you until your mother returns.”

He nodded and slightly pushed you towards the house, disappearing from your view as you walked in the front door. You locked it behind you and called your mom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next time you saw him you were 15. Your friends had gotten together and were going to a big party. They convinced you to sneak out and join them, so after your mom fell asleep, you shimmied out of your bedroom window on the second floor and walked to the edge of the roof. Below you, your friends stood holding their hands up to catch your legs and help you down. Once safely on the grass, you took off running in the direction of the trail in the woods.

“Party’s this way!”

You giggled and kept running, hearing your friends behind you. Wearing a plaid miniskirt, a white crop top and a pair of white knee high boots, running was a bit difficult. Your best friend ran past you and stuck out her tongue on your right, then two more of your friends passed by your left.

You felt gushes of wind blow past you as if someone was running by, but you couldn’t see the edges of the trail anymore, your surroundings blurring into a green mess. Putting your hands over your ears and squeezing your eyes, you yelled. Screamed and begged for your friends to come back.

When you opened your eyes, you were laying on your back and your friends stood in a circle over you. Past them, you thought you saw figures perched in the trees, watching you. You blinked the thought away and sat up. After having to reassure your group multiple times that your were fine, you guys continued to walk towards the sound of music.

After reaching the house, you and your best friend went shot for shot with the two star football players of your high school. Seeing as you two were tiny school girls you became quite drunk very fast. You swore you could see a flash of red cross Seungri’s eyes as he tossed another vodka shot back and stared at you. You shook your head and excused yourself to the bathroom. Head spinning, you made your way through the house and into the small guest restroom.

Splashing water on your face you decided it would be best to leave, you’d been here drinking straight vodka for over an hour now and were starting to feel woozy. You wiped your face off and left the room, making a beeline for the front door. No one was out front except a girl two grades above you, with wild red hair and beautiful skin, smoking a joint. She looked up at you and nodded, familiar red flashing through her gaze. You turned back forward and started almost running, back in the direction of the trail you knew all too well.

There, standing at the entrance of the trail, was the girl from the front porch. She smirked and you could see fangs poking out of her red painted lips.

“Where do you think you’re going sugar? I smell something sweet.”

Her voice sent chills down your spine as you tried to take off running past her. Her hand gripped into your bicep and you felt her nails dig into your skin. She was strong, almost impossibly strong.

“Mhmm you’re staying with me tonight, treat.”

Struggling was useless, her death grip on your arm now drawing blood. You slumped down and growled, staring up at her with a glare. Her gaze was fixed on your arm, warm, red blood running over her fingers and down your forearm. She used her other hand to swipe some of it off of her nail and she licked it, closing her eyes for a second.

“Let her go now or you’re going to regret it, Jennie.”

She opened her eyes and rolled them, sighing and popping her finger out of her mouth.

“Awe Channie, coming to try and steal my dinner?”

She laughed at him and dug her nails deeper into your arm, pushing more blood out and over her hand.

“She’s mine. Back off.”

Jennie locked eyes with Chan for a moment and saw it in his eyes that he wasn’t kidding and she wouldn’t win this. Her hold loosened, and then disappeared. She forced you to look her in the eyes as she sucked your blood off her fingers and smirked, wiping a bit of it on your cheek.

“Don’t let me find you alone again, sweetheart.”

You ran to Bangchan’s side and hid in his coat. Even through all of the commotion, you were still a good few too many vodka shots deep and felt like you couldn’t stand. He wrapped his arms around you for a moment and breathed in. He let out a low, deep growl and stepped back from you. Digging in his pocket, he grumbled to you.

“We need to wrap your arm. Let me.”

He kneeled down and rested your arm on his shoulder, firstly wiping off the blood that had dropped out and around your wounds. He then did something you didn’t expect, he leaned forward and licked up your bicep, covering each mark with his tongue before moving on. It burned for a moment each time, but only bad enough for your grip on his shoulder to tighten. When he pulled back, the wounds were gone, replaced by thin white lines in the shape of crescent moons.

“I guess I have some explaining to do..”

Bangchan was still sitting in front of you, one hand resting on your forearm and the other on your waist. He looked up at you and you could feel his burning gaze as you studied him. How? He hadn’t changed a single bit since the first memory you have of him from all those years ago.

“So.. you’re a.. vampire?”

He sighed. It wasn’t that he didn’t expect your question, he just didn’t expect you to be so straightforward about it.

“Yes. But not the dumb shit they put in your movies. We don’t turn into bats, we don’t sparkle. We can be in sunlight and eat garlic, we just have to moderate certain things. I know it’s a lot so don’t feel like you need to take it all in at once.”

Chan didn’t take a single breathe till you finally met eyes with him. Then, you started crying. He didn’t know what to do, he didn’t know what he did to cause such a reaction. But you were drunk, and therefore emotional.

“T-thank you for t-telling m-me, I’m s-so sorry you h-have to live like t-that.”

You threw yourself around him and cried. Chan was taken back, surprised your tears were due to his own possible situation. Sure, at first being a vampire and having to feed on humans blood and outliving everyone you meet kinda sucks, but it’s not the worst thing ever. You get used to it and years turn into days after some point.

“Hey hey, it’s okay. It’s not really a bad thing I just move around a lot and live.. forever.. it’s really not a huge deal i hate for you to be so upset over me..”

You looked up at him with wet eyes and blinked. You wiped your face, and shivered. It was snowing, and your crop top and mini skirt weren’t fit for the winter outdoors. Chan noticed and immediately was wrapping his jacket around your shoulders.

“You’re drunk, I take it (y/mom/n) wouldn’t be happy with you stumbling in at this hour blasted. I’ll shoot her a text and tell her i got you and you’re safe, okay? You’re safe with me y/n, you don’t have to worry.”

You weren’t in a position to argue, Your mother would have you by the throat if you walked in the door in your current position.

“I-I trust you Bangchan. I have a question though.”

He grabbed your hand and turned your body towards him.

“Give me a moment to get us home and warmed up inside my place and i’ll tell you anything you’d like.”

He swooped you up into his arms, even though you weren’t 7 anymore, your frame still fit very snug against his. He towered over you by at least a foot and lifted and carried you around like it was nothing. Once he had his arms wrapped tightly around you, he took a moment to look at your face, how you’ve grown over the past few years he wasn’t guarding you for your mother.

“Are you ready? You might want to tuck your head down, it’ll definitely be windy.”

He smiled at you and you returned the gesture before slipping your head between his chest and your own. The trip felt the same as you remembered from all those years ago, like a super windy rollercoaster. When he came to a stop, you lifted your head and realized you were on top of a building somewhere in the city.

It was beautiful up here, you could see all the other rooftops that stretched out over the concrete jungle, you could see the city lights that decorated all the trees and city center for the upcoming christmas holiday. You stepped out of Chan’s grip and towards the edge of the roof. Looking down, you could see cars driving in all directions, blinkers and horns going off at every corner.

Focusing in on where you heard the last car horn, you leaned forward a bit to hear people shouting. Trying to catch what they were saying, you bent down a bit and leaned farther out over the edge. You pushed a bit further forward and felt yourself start to tumble forward, losing your balance.

In a split second Chan had launched himself over the edge of the building, caught you by the waist, and grabbed onto the ledge of the rooftop.

“You’re still drunk, darling. You have to be careful.”

He pulled the two of you over and onto the roof, his grip never faltering. You also had a death grip on him, terrified of falling from this high. He carried you through a gate and over to a trapdoor. Setting you down on your feet, he twisted the handle and swung the door open to reveal a hole leading into what looked like a kitchen.

“You can go first, I have to close this behind us. Don’t worry, the island sits right under this door so you should be able to reach it.”

You nodded and sat down, hanging your legs down into the room. Sliding forward, you put your hands on the edge and swung down into the hole.

“I-i can’t reach!”

Bangchan was at your side in a second, taking both of your hands from the ledge to hold in his own. He had a gentle but strong grip, careful not to let you fall, he lowered you until your feet touched down on the countertop. You stepped aside and let Chan slip down next to you. After closing the door, he hopped down and looked up at you. Reaching out a hand, he stepped towards you and grabbed your waist. Lifting you over his shoulder, he carried you into what you assumed to be his room.

“Get some rest, you’re gonna feel like hell in the morning. I’ll be on the couch if you need anything.”

He flashed you a smile and tucked the blankets around you before heading out the door.

“Chan, wait! I w-wanted to say t-thank you for saving m-me tonight and s-sorry you’re stuck baby-*hiccup*- sitting my drunk ass..”

By the end of your sentence you were giggling, already half asleep. Chan admires your little laughs for a minute longer before taking his spot on the couch in the living room and falling asleep as well.

You wake up wrapped in a thick, navy blue comforter. Taking in a deep breath, you paused for a minute. This... isn’t your room. This is very obviously a boys room, a suit hanging on the mirror and the wonderful smell of cologne being enough for you to figure that out. But... who’s? What happened last night? The last thing you could remember you were trying to find the bathroom at the party.

Climbing out of the bed, you held the comforter wrapped around your body and stepped out of the room. The lights were on a red and blue setting, painting the walls in a calming aura.

‘If there’s anyone else here they’re definitely asleep’ You thought to yourself. Waddling towards the back of the couch facing you at the end of the hallway, you tried to be quiet. Sprawled out on the couch was none other than the man who’s face wouldn’t leave your dreams.

“My name is Christopher Bangchan, you can call me whatever you’d like doll.”

Everything about him was familiar and you knew exactly who’s house you had just woke up in. You reached forward and brushed some of his hair out of his eyes, causing him to snap them open and catch your wrist in a killer grip. You instantly flinched away from him and cowered back. Realizing who you were, he immediately released his grip and jumped over the couch to cradle you.

“I’m so sorry, i didn’t realize it was you, i didn’t expect you up this early.”

He played with your hair and sat with you on the ground for a bit, calming you down from his unexpected attack.

“C-Chan, I need a bathroom, im gonna throw up.”

Within seconds your hangover was hitting you full force, nausea and a splitting headache overtaking any fear you had left in the moment. He had carried you into the bathroom and set you down in his lap, facing the toilet. He pulled your hair out of your face and held it back as you emptied your stomach. Once you were finished, atleast for a moment, Bangchan ran to the kitchen to grab you a glass of water and some advil for your head. When he came back you were gagging again and he knew what was coming. Placing his hand in the small of your back, he rubbed soothing circles into your shirt while he held your hair with his other hand.

Finally able to keep down the little water and medicine you took, Chan carried you from the bathroom into the living room, tossing you and his comforter on the couch.

“Will you watch a movie with me?”

You looked at Chan with big doe eyes, begging him with your stare. He shook his head and laughed.

“Sure sicky, do you want food or anything?”

You scrunched your face up at his nickname and he laughed. Then, his phone rang.

“Oh I-uh, I gotta take this hold on.”

He disappeared into the hallway and picked up the phone. You could immediately hear a woman’s voice screaming and Chan trying to calm her down.

“BANGCHAN Y/N IS GONE SHES NOT IN HER ROOM BUT HER WINDOW IS OPEN DO YOU THINK SHE SNUCK OUT OR DO YOU THINK ONE OF THEM TOOK HER BANGCHAN WHAT DO I DO IF THEY TOOK HER SHES ALL I HAVE SHES NEVER SNUCK OUT BEFORE WHAT DO I-“

“Y/mom/n, She is here with me, safe. I found her out last night alone in the cold. She said her friends ditched her and she was just enjoying the snow. Don’t freak out, she stayed here and i slept on the couch. She might be sick from being out in that weather but other than that she is perfectly fine.”

Bangchan smirked to himself for coming up with such a believable excuse for you. Your mom on the other hand was still not happy, but Chan decided that could wait.

“Listen, you can come get her if you want or you can leave her here, i’ve got an eye on her and if you’re worried about them getting her at your house she’s probably safer here anyway.”

“Okay fine. I have to go to work so i guess she can stay with you. Don’t let her do anything stupid, and don’t let her do anything you would do!”

“Yeah yeah, have a good day at work y/mom/n.”

Chan clicked off the phone and walked back into his living room. There you were, sat on his couch looking up at him with fear evident in your gaze.

“W-was that my mom?”

Your lip quivered as you asked, your mind overwhelmed with everything you just heard. Who was trying to get you? Why was your mom so scared for you?

“Yeah uh, I told her your friends ditched you so you took a walk and i found you. She doesn’t seem super pissed and i think you’re staying here, atleast for the day, so get comfortable.”

He flopped down on the loveseat across from you and flashed you a smile.

“How do you know her so well? My mom, i mean.”

Chan let out a loud sigh before turning to look out his window.

“It’s a long story really. I have a question for you before i start.”

You were too intrigued by his relationship with your mother to turn down this chance.

“Alright, shoot”

He raised his eyebrow at you and gave a little laugh.

“Do you know what your mother is?”

Oh shit, that’s not what you expected. What does he mean ‘what she is’? She’s your mother, your human mother... right?

“She’s uh, a human? Right?”

Bangchan shook his head and sighed again.

“This isn’t my place to tell you but seeing your mother hasn’t yet, and your time is coming, I don’t really have a choice. Your mother and I are vampires, we started out in the same village around the 1800’s. Which, inherently, makes you atleast half vampire. I wish I could tell you I knew your father but I never got to meet him. Your mother is very secretive about many aspects of her life and I’ve learned to just accept that. Anyway, when our whole village was slaughtered by hunters we made it out with a few others. After a couple hundred years people get tired of each other, but your mom and i have always stuck together. She’s like my sister, we might not be blood related but she’s all the family i’ve got. You too, sicky.”

He leaned forward and ruffled your hair with his last sentence. You would’ve stuck your tongue out or done something but what he said stuck out vividly in your mind.

“What do you mean...my ‘time is coming’?”

He hadn’t realized he had let that part slip, it’s not his place to explain this to you.

“Uh, I-uh.. Give me a minute and i’ll tell you, swear.”

With that, he was out of his seat and taking off down the hallway again. Whoever he was talking to was speaking in a whisper, as was he. You leaned in to hear as much as possible.

“-I didn’t mean to! It slipped out!”

“I can’t go back on it now, i swore i’d tell her!”

“Listen, you knew this was coming up, why didn’t you tell her?”

“Well it’s too late for all that now, I’ve got to tell her and you’ll just have to explain when you get here.”

You could only hear Bangchan’s half of the conversation but it made enough sense. He was obviously talking to your mother again, apparently about some big secret she was supposed to tell you and never did. When he came back to the living room you tried to look casual, picking at your nails with your head down.

“Okay y/n. I need you to listen and i need you to listen well, alright?”

Chan had bent down in front of you and grabbed your hands, stopping you from fidgeting any longer and forcing you to look up at him.

“Alright”

“I don’t have all the information, there’s still a lot your mother won’t tell even me. But to be blunt, your father was the last of a royal bloodline among vampires. He had unfinished business when he.. left us.. and you, being his only descendant, are now to be held responsible.”

You nodded, urging him to continue.

“But the real problem is your blood. When your fathers DNA crossed with your mothers it created something special. There’s something about you that draws us in. You smells sweet, like candy, and it’s strong, almost impossible to ignore when you’re around. Whoever was after your father is using your scent to get to close to you and your mother and I have been protecting you for years. There’s a catch though;”

He paused and locked your gaze to his.

“You. Because your parents were both vampires, you too will turn. Once you reach your prime, which is different for everyone but females generally mature during their early adulthood, you will become a full blood vampire. After that you’ll be much safer, your blood is useless to a vampire once you’ve turned, but until then we have to keep you protected.”

Chan took a deep breath and leaned back in his seat, looking up to the ceiling. You sat there in shock, staring at him with your jaw dropped.

“Wait, wait, wait. So the ass who left me and mom alone, also left me screwed with all of his problems? Is he dead? We should kill him. People are trying to kill me? Because of shit he did? Oh, no. Let’s kill him.”

Bangchan was surprised by your reaction to say the least. Amused, almost. He shook his head and let out a sigh, running his hands through his pale blonde hair.

“We don’t know where he is y/n, he could be alive somewhere in hiding or he could be dead, but no one has seen him in 16 years. He disappeared off the face of the planet the same night he left your mother, and no one has been able to track him since.”

You leaned back into the cushions and pondered this for a moment.

“Ahh, I probably wouldn’t be able to kill my own father anyway. Moral dilemma or whatever I think.”

Chan laughed at you and turned towards the START screen on the TV. Snuggling into the comforter from his bed, you focused on the opening credits of the movie you picked out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After everything that happened following the party, your mom explained quite little compared to what Chan said. She also forbid your from hanging out with Chan until you were fully turned. She said she ‘can’t trust anyone around your blood,’ which shocked both you and him.

You wouldn’t see Bangchan for a couple years after that. Once you graduated high school, your mom recommended you go to a college outside of the city so it’d be harder for them to find you. So, here you were, 20, in a new city 2 hours from your home, living alone and going to classes with your head down. You made a few friends, a guy in your history class who always asked to borrow your pencil had finally gotten your number, and the girl assigned as your lab partner in biology was really sweet, and you’re starting to think this new beginning will be good for you.

It seemed that was only the calm before the storm though, because two weeks into the semester you were no where to be seen in any of your classes. Lilah, from biology, tried calling you the first two times you missed and she was beginning to worry. On your third absence, she decided, as a friend, it’d be nice to at least come check on you. When she reached your hall though, there was a man, black hair and pale skin, banging on your door.

“Yah! What’re you doing?”

Lilah wasn’t sure what her plan was but she needed to get in that room and he was in her way.

“My friend hasn’t been to class in days! I’m worried about her, she hasn’t texted or called me back since Friday! And she won’t answer the door either!”

He yelled the last part, banging on the door with each word. Lilah shook her head and pushed him out of the way. When she reached your door, she knew why you’d been in isolation. She could smell it.

“Listen dude, I don’t know who you are or what you know but you should probably let me handle this and I’ll tell y/n to call you when she’s feeling better.”

She spoke in almost a growl, trying to scare off the poor human boy from witnessing you in your current state. He stubbornly shook his head and stomped his foot, proving to her he wasn’t going anywhere until he was sure you were okay.

“Fine. At least wait until I come out and get you, give her a chance to get it together.”

She was already on her knees, face to face with the doorknob into your apartment. Slipping a bobby pin out of her hair, she bent it around a bit and wiggled it into the keyhole. Fidgeting around a bit, she felt it click and the knob turned, allowing the door to creak open slightly. Lilah turned to the boy before she entered.

“Stay out here.”

Upon entering your apartment Lilah confirmed her suspicions. Your clothes were strewn everywhere and the smell of your blood was painted along the room, sickeningly sweet. She walked towards the cracked door across the living room, already spotting the blood on the door. She slid it open enough for her to enter and stepped inside. There you were, balled up in the fetal position, naked, at the head of your bed. The sheets and curtains were stained red and your hair had taken on a strawberry hue.

“Oh darling, why didn’t you tell someone you were transitioning? We need to get you cleaned up and fed, soon.”

She had made her way to the bedside and was brushing a strand of your hair out of your face. You looked at her with bright red eyes, shaking and teeth chattering. She grabbed your hand and led you into the bathroom, running a shower for you. Once you were settled inside, she began wiping blood off of as many surfaces as possible.

‘It must have been horrible to have to turn alone.’ She thought. The first transition of a maturing vampire is a brutal one, your body expelling its mortal aspects. Blood no longer circulated through your veins but splattered everywhere around your apartment bedroom. Shaking her head, she starts for your front door.

“Alright kid, she’s in the shower and she needs a bit before she’s ready to see anyone, especially some boy. What’s your name? I’ll have her text you when she gets out and is ready to see you.”

The boy standing patiently outside your apartment didn’t like that at all, he was your friend too and he felt the need to see you to believe you were okay.

“I’m Jungkook, and I’ll wait out here as long as I have to, I want to see her before I just take your word.”

He would never admit it, but Jungkook had grown a bit of a crush on you during your time together in class. He loved the way your hair bounced when you laughed and the way your eyes lit up every time he asked you a question. So yeah, here he was on a Wednesday afternoon, sitting outside your apartment because you missed another day of class.

“Whatever lover boy, just don’t barge in uninvited.”

Lilah flashed Jungkook a glare before returning to your apartment and locking the door behind her. She had been through the transition herself, getting stuck at the age 19 forever she decided to explore all the colleges and pick her favorite. So, she knew how to clean up vast amounts of blood. She also knew you needed to eat.

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