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dinamitae · 3 years

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i'm yours | ksj

part of the life goes on series

pairing: seokjin x f. reader genre: modern/quarantine!au, established relationship!au, fluff, slice of life word count: 2.5k+ girl what happened to drabbles??! rating: pg15 warnings: set during quarantine, talk of the pandemic, mentions of sex, suggestive comments, a gross amount of affection, literal tooth-rotting fluff summary: this is the second birthday you’re celebrating in quarantine and your boyfriend, seokjin, vows to make it even more memorable than the last.

a/n: uhh surprise!!! i planned to have jungkook's out next but i somewhat spontaneously got inspiration for this one and ended up cranking it out in about a week. but tbh this was so fun to write and i hope it shows :))

one more thing - this is the ring i used for reference ;) happy reading!

The lingering warmth of your boyfriend beside you slowly dissipating is what wakes you up this morning.

Previously beside you, actually, and you’re only about half awake at the moment. You’re vaguely aware of the comforter being pulled back, the chilly morning air tickling a sliver of your now-exposed back. You roll fully onto your stomach and fold your arms above your head as you listen to the soft rustling of fabric, your boyfriend quietly getting dressed. “What time is it?”

Seokjin chuckles, voice deep and still a little rough with sleep, and ignores your inquiry. Instead, he puts one knee on the bed so he can lay his head right by yours, nose centimeters from brushing your own. “Good morning, birthday girl.”

“Morning,” you rasp, eyes still closed. “What time is it?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he mumbles softly, tilting his head up to kiss your nose (you scrunch it almost reflexively, and he chuckles again). “Go back to sleep, angel.”

You pout at that. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Yeah, I need to...run an errand.” You manage to pry one eyelid open to glare at him suspiciously. “Since when do you run errands?”

“Okay, your first birthday gift from me is that I’m not going to retaliate to that. I’ll be back in a bit.” The one eye you have open rolls ever-so-slightly at his wit before fluttering shut.

“Whatever,” you playfully sigh, reveling in the way his soft lips feel on your forehead. Completely oblivious to the adoring expression that your boyfriend wears, the last thing you hear is his receding footsteps before sleep overtakes you once more.

You wake up again about an hour later to the aroma of coffee wafting into your bedroom.

After slipping one of Seokjin’s big t-shirts and a fresh pair of panties on, you pad into your bathroom to brush your teeth, blankly staring at yourself in the mirror and watching the minty foam collect around the corners of your mouth. You’re turning 25 today. This is the second birthday you’re celebrating in quarantine, which at this point just feels...normal. You remember how sad you felt during your 24th birthday, how uncertain you felt about the state of the world around you. It almost felt wrong to celebrate anything, even your birthday, while there were people out there dying. Luckily, Seokjin was there to very level-headedly remind you that the same can be said for just about any point in time, and that you deserved to celebrate your birthday regardless of the circumstances. And so, albeit a little reluctantly, you did.

Honestly, being with Seokjin has been your saving grace during quarantine. The two of you had only recently started living together when everything shut down, and you’re both fairly busy (you recently started your last semester of law school, Seokjin is the co-editor in chief at a local newspaper), independent people— needless to say, there was definitely some trial and error when you first had to work from home. But you eventually fell into a nice rhythm that suited both of your work and solitude needs, and for that you are so, so thankful.

You finish the rest of your morning routine before heading downstairs, where you’re greeted by a box of pastries, two cups of coffee, and your boyfriend leaning his hip against the counter. He looks up from his phone with a smile when he hears you approach. “Good morning...again.”

“An errand, huh?” You eye the baby pink and white stripes lining the box on the counter, indicating that they’re from your favorite local bakery. You raise an accusatory eyebrow at Seokjin and mirror his stance.

“Yup,” he gives you a tender kiss on the lips. “Only for you. Happy birthday, babe.”

You smile and thank him softly, standing on your tippy toes to peck him on the lips again before grabbing an apple turnover. Seokjin takes that as an opportunity to wrap his arms around your waist from behind and rest his chin on your shoulder. You sink your teeth into the pastry that’s still warm on your tongue, then you blindly try to offer your boyfriend a bite. Giggles escape both of your lips when you miss entirely and some jelly ends up on his cheek— you dutifully turn your head to kiss it off of his face before actually putting the treat in his mouth.

“As much as I love my apple turnovers,” you loll your head to the side so your face is half buried in the crook of his neck, “I’m a little disappointed that morning head wasn’t my first present.”

You feel just as much as you hear his rumbling laugh behind you. “Don’t worry,” he plants a kiss on the side of your head with a smirk, “I’m saving that for later.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

So far, the day has consisted mostly of responding to a gracious amount of birthday text messages, phone calls, and even a few brief but heart-warming facetimes. At around noon, you and Seokjin pick up some fried chicken takeout for lunch, talking and laughing and eating in the safety of his car, before making a brief trip to the grocery store to get some ingredients for dinner along with a small birthday cake.

Evening rolls around, and Seokjin’s stomach grumbles impatiently while you’re cuddling on the couch— with a laugh you take that as a sign to start making dinner. As you’re opening a can of tomatoes for the vodka sauce you both love, your boyfriend puts on some music— more specifically, the playlist he curated for your birthday last year. You cook in comfortable silence alongside each other, save for the occasional “‘scuse me” when you maneuver around one another and the sound of your voices softly singing along to the lyrics. You’re just about to turn the heat down under the sauce so it doesn’t burn while the penne finishes boiling when one of your favorite sappy songs, Sunday Morning by Maroon 5, comes on shuffle.

“Awe, ‘cmere,” Seokjin coos and gently tugs you into his arms with the hand closest to him, holding it right above his heart while his other arm wraps around your torso. You snake your free arm over his broad shoulders and rest your cheek on the other side of his chest. The two of you resume your comfortable silence, basking in each other’s presence as you sway to the jazzy tune.

Sometimes you can’t believe that this is your life. Slow dancing in the kitchen with the love of your life was something you honestly thought was an exaggheration— just one of the many ways people romanticize love and all that it entails. Finding someone that understands you like no one else and loves you for all your flaws was something you merely dreamt of, something that seemed so unattainable. But here you are, dancing in the kitchen with the love of your life, feeling understood and loved and cherished in every way imaginable. And it’s all because of Seokjin.

In light of your thoughts, you let out a blissful sigh. “I love you, you know that?”

Your boyfriend peers down at you fondly, taken aback by your seemingly random proclamation. “Gee, after dating for three years I would hope so.”

You smack his shoulder with a tsk despite the warmth creeping onto your cheeks. “Shut up, I’m just feeling...soft. And it’s your fault, by the way.”

“Is it, now?”

“Yeah,” you mumble into his chest, before looking up to meet his eyes. “You just...make me feel so loved— so special, even when it’s not my birthday. And I hope I make you feel the same, because I really do love you, Jinnie. So much.”

Seokjin rubs a soothing hand on your back as he sucks in a breath and gives your hand, still in his, a reassuring squeeze. “Well, I hope you know that you make me feel the same and more, y/n. You make me so happy and I— I fall more and more in love with you everyday.”

You struggle to find the words to describe just how greatly you reciprocate his sentiment, so instead you pull him impossibly closer, your lips meeting in a languid kiss. Seokjin moves to deepen it, his hand gently cupping the side of your face while one of yours slides into his hair, when the timer set for the pasta rings through the air.

You reluctantly pull away, a faint smile on your lips. Seokjin huffs in mock annoyance as you wipe some lip gloss off of his bottom lip. “Sorry, I love you but I love properly cooked pasta more.”

After finishing your delicious homemade meal, you find yourself sitting at your kitchen table once again, your store-bought cake with mismatched candles lit on top sitting in front of you.

(“There are only five in here!” Your boyfriend calls to you from the kitchen, as you’re currently in the bathroom.

You bark out a laugh, unable to contain your amusement. “Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah, leave it to us to forget to buy candles while we’re literally at the store getting a cake.” A pause. “Don’t worry, each candle can count for 5 years!”

“...Fuck off!”)

Seokjin hurries back from the light switch to sit across from you so he can properly sing you a happy birthday before the wax melts onto the cake. You listen intently, mesmerized by your boyfriend’s singing voice that’s just as beautiful as everything else you love about him. When he finishes, your eyes flutter shut, both out of serenity and obligation.

This is the part where you usually pretend to make a wish, but this year you feel like there are some important matters to be wished for. World peace, maybe? The pandemic ending soon would be nice— for everyone but especially for you being able to kick some attorney ass in person and not just on a zoom call. Happiness...is that too basic? Oh, also—

“Yah, are you writing an essay to the birthday fairy in that head of yours?”

You open your eyes to shoot him a glare that’s met with an amused smile from Seokjin. “That hardly makes any sense,” you weakly rebut, though you concede that you did have your eyes closed for longer than probably necessary. You extinguish all five candles in one blow.

While you cut two generous slices of your cake (red velvet with cream cheese frosting, your favorite), Seokjin goes into your bedroom to fetch your gift, flicking the lights back on as he exits. He returns with a small purple gift bag that has white tissue paper peeking out of the top and hands it to you, sitting beside you this time instead of across the table.

You open the card first (like the polite person that you are), which reads “Happy Birthday to my main squeeze” with lemons wearing sunglasses on the front. You’re still giggling at the pun when you unfold it completely, a few slips of card stock falling out as you do so.

“Coupons…?” Your voice trails off as you read the hand-written tickets. “One free chore, one free tickle attack— ooh, a free kiss! I think I’ll cash that one in now,” you wiggle our eyebrows comically at your boyfriend. He lets out a hearty, window wiper-esque laugh before leaning in to give you a peck on the nose, positively endeared.

You bite your lip in excited concentration as you flip through the remaining ones, before releasing it into a fond pout. “Thank you, bubs, these are so cute.” You’re still admiring your boyfriend’s doodles while he takes a deep breath in lieu of a response. “There’s one more thing in there.”

Your eyebrows pinch a bit in confusion at his sudden nervousness, but you don’t question it just yet. You put your hand back into the bag and fish around in the sea tissue paper until your fingers land on a small, velvet box. You freeze, wide eyes immediately flitting to meet your boyfriend’s. “Jin…”

“This is not a proposal I promise,” his words jumble together in his rush to calm your nerves. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in, before pulling the box out of the bag. Opening it up, a small gasp escapes your lips at what lay inside. The ring is delicate in every sense of the word; a thin, gold band holds a total of seven gems, three small diamonds on either side of a stunning, oval-shaped emerald. “O— oh my god, this is beautiful, I’m— Jin, I’m at a loss of words…”

“I’m glad you like it,” he hums, taking another deep breath. “I know we agreed that we don’t want to get married just yet, but I...I also know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Like I said earlier, y/n, you make me so happy— happier than I’ve ever been— and living with you during this stupid pandemic only solidified that.” He looks up to see you already admiring him through teary eyes, the enamored smile painting your features giving him the confidence to say his next sentence. “So this can be your reminder that I promise to marry you one day, and that I’ll do anything in my power to make you just as happy, if not more.”

You sit up a little straighter, caressing his cheek lovingly. “God, you already make me so incredibly happy...and you remind me every day that we’re in this for the long run— all the little things you do for me, every time you’re patient with me, constantly talking about getting a dog,” he lets out a watery chuckle at that. “I love this...so much, don’t get me wrong— but I don’t need a ring to remind me, you know?”

“I know, baby,” he turns to kiss the palm of your hand, “but I’m also tired of fending off guys at the bar. Now you’ll have a pretty little ring on your finger to let ‘em know you’re mine.”

The combination of his words and the playful, yet sincere grin on his lips strikes a chord within you, and not just in your heart; he is yours, and you are his. This isn’t exactly news to you— you’ve had this conversation with him a handful of times before, where you both agreed that you weren’t ready for marriage just yet. And while you were truthful in saying that you don’t need a ring to remind you that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you, it’s still one of the most thoughtful gifts you’ve ever received (it also makes you want to jump his bones...and soon).

Despite your racing heart and your thoughts that are far from innocent, you opt for rolling your eyes and inching closer until your faces are mere inches apart. You feel your eyelashes brush his cheeks as you briefly look down at his lips, then back up into his warm, inviting eyes. The same warm, inviting eyes that you’ll happily gaze into for the rest of your life.

“Yeah, I’m yours.”

a/n: if anyone happens to recall, this one was originally titled "a promise" on the series masterlist, but i decided to change it after writing that last bit :,) i hope you enjoyed reading, & feedback/comments are always appreciated!!!! <3

#sappiest shit i've ever written but i loved every second of it #seokjin fluff #seokjin x reader #seokjin fanfiction #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts fanfction #seokjin x female reader #kpop fanfiction #btshoneyhive #bangtaninn #my writing

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heyitsmerose · 3 years

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Letting Go

Pairing: Broken!Reader x Stranger!Yunho

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt Comfort

Word Count: 12.1k

Summary: You've never felt more down. Despite having a loving family and studying at a good school you still aren't happy. You may have many objective luxuries, but you don't have anyone to talk to. The stress from all around you is getting to you and you finally break. You can't take this anymore. Deciding to finally take matters into your own hands and end this for good, you go to your favourite bridge one last time to say your goodbyes to the world. Until someone stops you that is...

Warnings/Disclaimer: In no way do I mean to romanticise mental illness. Through this oneshot, I want to show depression and other mental heath issues for what they are. I will not sugar coat anything and will show them for how exhausting and painful they are. Again, I am not writing this to romanticise mental illness, rather provide comfort and create a safe space to talk about mental health. Remember, it's never too late to get help, and I'm always here for you. It can be as small as personally messaging me how you're feeling today, I'm here to listen :) This oneshot will obviously be talking about suicide, depression, obsession and mental health in general. If these topics trigger you, this oneshot may not be for you.

Suicide

Depression

Swearing

Mentions of Sexual Abuse

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Youtube Playlist

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*I've spent a few weeks on this, I'm sorry if there are spelling errors, I've read the entire thing maybe 5-6 times.

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Facing the window in front of you, you sighed. You felt numb. It was raining and was around 6 pm. It was cloudy outside and the rain made the sky a few shades darker than normal. One of your windows was opened and you could smell the rain. The earth smell that made you feel all giddy inside. Excitement used to bubble inside you whenever you recognized the familiar scent of the wet earth, it indicated that it was going to rain. You loved the rain. It felt so comforting and the sound of the raindrops calmed you. At least that's how it used to feel. Now, you feel numb. Unaware of your surroundings and unfazed by a natural phenomenon that once caused you joy.

You sighed looking outside. It was frustrating. The rain that once comforted you was now frustrating. The constant pitter-patter noises bothered you and you were unable to get anything done. You slammed the window shut with all the force you could muster and plopped yourself back on your chair, redirecting your attention to what was on the desk. Ahh right, you had homework to finish. The bright screen of your laptop burned your eyes and caused them to feel sore but you couldn't care less.

You had 2 essays due tomorrow and although that didn't sound like a lot it was just the tip of the iceberg. Not only did you have 2 essays to start (and finish on the same day), you also had an oral presentation you had to give tomorrow for your music class. You didn't have your presentation ready and you were presenting to over 50 other people.

You had everything you could have possibly wanted. Your parents were not too rich but you were quite well off with a duplex in a multi-story apartment. Your dad had a stable career and was the country manager of a company giving him a good amount of power. Your mother was a social butterfly and had many connections. They sent you to a private school and let you study what you wanted. Although you didn't have any close friends in school, you had a few people you sat with.

See? You had everything you could have possibly wanted but you were still miserable. You knew this wasn't normal. For the past few months, you felt numb. There wasn't a better word to describe it. You felt apathetic and unfazed by everything. You were slowly starting to lose interest in the things you once found thrilling and fun and felt disconnected from reality. Your own parents felt like strangers and you felt like you couldn't talk to them. In actuality, your parents were loving and provided you with everything you could have possibly wanted. They took really good care of you and regularly showed affection. They were also quite understanding and were easy-going and fun. The fact that your parents are so caring makes you feel all the more guilty about telling them. You can't tell anyone.

You huffed, running your hands through your hair roughly. You gripped the roots of your hair and began to feel it again. The feeling of darkness creeping into your mind.

"what's the point of this?"

"I want this to stop"

"When will it get better?"

"Does it ever get better?"

In all honesty, you felt hopeless. You had to begin and finish 2 whole essays and prepare your presentation. Listening to music, eating anything, or even taking a break were useless, they would just distract you. You chewed the end of your pencil enough to make the end of it dent. Your teeth hurt but you continued doing so. At least the physical pain would distract you from this crazy workload. Or so you thought... You began to type on your laptop. You were writing your mid-term paper and were given the freedom to pick whatever topic you wanted as long as you felt like it expressed your emotions.

You typed the first thing that came to mind.

"I want to escape. I keep wanting for this to stop, I keep expecting everything to get better. It never does. It's an endless cycle of work and just more work. I feel like a robot and in all honesty, the lack of emotion is the only thing I'm feeling"

Your face had a stoic expression as your fingers fluttered across the keyboard. The gentle noise of keys clicking was the only thing heard for another hour or so. You didn't take any breaks and just wanted to get it done. At this point, you didn't care if it was good or even decent, you just wanted to get it done. That was very unlike you though. You were no topper, but you considered yourself quite hardworking and diligent. You were slowly falling behind though, but you couldn't care less. You just wanted to get it over with.

In the essay you wrote, you didn't get too personal, you simply wrote about your feelings and personified them. You spoke about your feelings as if they were an obstacle in your way. Despite being quite specific, you made it seem as though you were not talking about yourself. You fixed up the grammar and printed out your paper, stapling it, ready to submit it tomorrow. You looked outside and by now it was way darker. It was around 8:30 and it was time for dinner.

You went downstairs to get your plate of dinner and greeted your mom.

"Y/n, you're finally here, I almost forgot you were even living in this house" She chuckled and your dad joined in. You didn't laugh though.

"Hey, cheer up, your mom was just kidding, is everything alright?" Your dad chimed in.

In all honesty, you knew your mom didn't mean it, she was just kidding, but mocking you for the amount of workload you had didn't seem right. The question by your dad, however, completely caught you off guard. In your heart, you knew you weren't. You noticed how you started drifting off and spacing out while someone was talking to you. You noticed how you stopped feeling joy and noticed how you never had time for anything but school. Your face was glued to the ground and you nodded. You didn't want to lie, but you couldn't help it. You'd feel guilty for possibly making them feel like it was their fault.

Your parents both just sighed and your mom held your hand. She brought you to sit at the dining table and looked at you with nothing but love in her eyes.

"Y/n... We know something is bothering you. You know you can tell us anything right?" Your mom asked as she cupped your cheek. You looked back up at her and saw both of your parents looking at you worriedly.

You could feel the back of your eyelids stinging. Your throat got dry and you felt a burning in your nose. This was it. This was your chance to finally tell them how you felt. You wanted to tell them everything. From how you felt incompetent, to the constant stress and pressure. You wanted to finally break down your walls and tell them that you lacked the feelings you felt before. But you couldn't. The lump in your throat grew and you felt the corners of your eyes getting wetter. You couldn't get any words out. You badly wanted to just let it all out, but the words were stuck in your throat.

You also couldn't just break down all of a sudden or they would get really worried. You couldn't let them watch you break down. You would never forgive yourself if they ever thought the way you were feeling was because of them.

You simply sucked in a deep breath of air and looked away before they noticed anything was wrong.

"I just have a lot of work. I have more to do though, so if you could excuse me." You said, your voice wavering as you walked away from them.

"What about your dinner?" Your mom asked pointing at the counter. You just sighed and picked up a plate of food. Your hands trembled and your lip quivered from the overwhelming situation and you rushed to your room as fast as you could. As soon as you left, your mom just sighed and looked at your dad and her face showed immense concern. He brought her into his warm embrace reassured her. You would come to them when the time was right. You would eventually tell them what was bothering you. right? Although you didn't want them to feel guilty, they already did.

The second you reached your room upstairs you locked the door behind you. You tossed the food into the dustbin near your desk and put the plate aside. You felt guilty. Every day your mom would make you a full course meal only for you to throw it away without even having a bite. You couldn't help it though. You had a lot of work to do and eating was not your first priority. Besides, you already had lunch. This was not a rare occurrence. You would usually skip breakfast and dinner, directly eating lunch. Your stomach growled but you couldn't care less.

You rushed into the bathroom in your room and closed the door behind you. Your back slid down the door and your hands flew to your face. You almost blew your cover. It was quite an overwhelming situation. Your hands covered your mouth as the first sob wracked through your body. You were lucky that you were in the bathroom, in your room, on the second floor, it was practically impossible for anyone to hear you.

Your hands moved up to your hair as you gripped it tightly in between your fingers. Slowly, more cries came out. The bathroom echoed with your sobs and heavy breathing. You tried muffling your cries to no avail. You sobbed loudly while you shoved your palm against your mouth trying to stop yourself from crying but nothing worked. You tried digging your fingernails into your palm to distract yourself from all the emotional pain with physical pain but it still didn't work.

You tried breathing steadily only to break out into sobs a few seconds later. You let out gut-wrenching sobs that had been bottled up for too long now. Your throat was raw and your nose was red.

"Make it stop" You whispered to yourself. Were you being dramatic? Were you overreacting? You didn't know and you didn't care. Your sobs slowly died down but your hands were still clamped over your mouth trying to get them to stop completely.

After a few minutes, you went to wash your face. You noticed your eyes were red and your hair was not in a bun anymore but was now all over the place. You sighed and washed your face with cold water trying to remove any traces of that sudden breakdown. Besides, you just wasted around 20 minutes of your time, crying when you could have been working and finishing off your other essay.

You didn't care to change your clothes and sat back on your desk. You sighed and looked out the window again. The rain had died down and there was now just a cool breeze. A layer of mist had collected after the rain coating the trees and plants outside. Despite living in the city, your window faced a big green space. In the mornings there were usually only around 3 people at max, making it quite empty. At night it was even more serene and lonely.

You drew shapes on your windows while trying to think of a topic to write your essay about. Your second essay was supposed to be an analysis report about any experiment of your choice.

You chose to write about the expectancy-value theory.

The Expectancy Value Theory suggests that motivation for a given behavior or action is determined by two factors: (i) expectancy, ie, how probable it is that a wanted (instrumental) outcome is achieved through the behavior or action; (ii) value, ie, how much the individual values the desired outcome.

You scoffed as you read it. Lies. All you've been taught to do is the work you've been given in school. You didn't want to do it. You didn't find it interesting and you couldn't care less about failing if it was up to you. The only reason you were working was because school wanted you to. If you had the option, you would gladly stop. So no, the expectancy-value theory, in your mind was not correct, since for some people, ie. you, motivation didn't come from yourself, rather it came in the form of forced requirements from others. Others have high expectations and expect good quality work from you, but if you were given the choice, you would take care of yourself instead of focussing so much on your studies. The expectancy theory, in your mind, as false as the only thing influencing you to work was other people forcing you.

You decided that was the perfect thesis for your essay and began to write. Although the point of the essay was to discuss the findings of the experiment, you went in a different direction. You wrote your entire essay about disproving that stupid experiment. You didn't discuss the data results but instead countered them with your own data. After another hour or so of aggressive typing and writing shit about Martin Fishbein, you decided you were finally done and decided to finish off your essay. You were happy with the way it turned out, although it was certainly not what was asked of you.

You wrapped up your essay by simply restating your points and you printed that too. By this point, it was already 11 pm and although you weren't sleepy, you just wanted to get this over with and rest. Your final task for tomorrow was your music presentation. All you had to do was pick your favorite classical piece and write a bit about it.

Music was one of the only hobbies you liked. You took pride in composing and making music, however, your school had ruined it for you. The only things they made you do were to analyze pieces of music and discuss the elements of music and their implication. You never got to actually compose or make your own music so you started to dread it as a subject too.

You picked up the first piece that came to mind. Dvorak's 'Humoresque'. Wow, how original, you thought. You began to listen to the piece and understand it better. As a kid, this used to be your favorite piece. Now? It just feels bland. It doesn't feel the way it used to. You began scribbling a few quick points about the song before beginning your presentation.

After taking notes, you finally began working on your presentation. In total, it took around 4 hours to finish and it was exactly 4 am. You sighed and uploaded your presentation to a pen drive before packing up your bag for school.

You had to be up for school by 7 anyway, so you'd get 2-3 hours of sleep at max. You hopped into bed as soon as you were done, not caring about putting anything back or even changing your clothes.

Unfortunately, unlike you hoped, you weren't able to fall asleep as soon as your head crashed onto the pillow. Instead, your mind preoccupied with other things was way too clouded with stressful thoughts to let you relax enough to fall asleep.

You tossed and turned in bed as your stomach growled. You huffed and tried blocking out the feeling. You didn't regret skipping dinner, it was necessary to finish off your work. You sighed and closed your eyes, trying to sleep. You lied for at least 10 minutes simply doing nothing. You tossed and turned trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in, but nothing worked. Your mind was simply too preoccupied to let you rest. you closed your eyes trying to calm yourself, only for your thoughts to go back to yesterday evening. You remembered the short conversation with your parents and how they seemed genuinely concerned. Did they know what was happening to you? They were your parents, after all, they probably figured something was wrong.

Thinking about your relationship with them, you felt guilty. You realized how your conversations were never longer than 5-10 minutes and you were always the one to cut them short. You didn't spend as much time with them as you used to, instead of dedicating all your time to studying.

All of a sudden, you remembered how they used to take care of you when you were a child. You remembered the first time they taught you how to ride a bike, your first day of school, and your middle school graduation. You can't remember the last time you all were together as a family and enjoyed yourselves. You were usually too busy and you regretted it.

Unconsciously, you sniffled, your eyes getting watery again. You huffed, roughly wiping and rubbing your eyes, embarrassed that all it took for you to get emotional was a few memories. You sighed shakily, trying to get your thoughts away from that, or else you knew you'd have another breakdown. Still not being able to fall asleep for another 45 minutes, you gave up.

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You got up and checked your phone, only to see that the time was 6:30 am. How perfect. You didn't bother combing your hair and tied a messy bun, too tired and too unbothered to even attempt to look decent. You hopped into the bathroom, brushing your teeth and grabbing a towel. You looked back into the mirror as you did yesterday during your mini breakdown. You had dark circles under your eyes, your eyes were red and your nose was tinted pink. You couldn't care less though.

You hopped into the shower and turned the temperature to max coldness, trying to wake yourself up to make yourself look less tired and well... less dead. You shivered at the temperature but bared it for the sake of looking slightly presentable and more awake.

You grabbed your soap and began to lather some on your hands. A few seconds later though, you felt a mild stinging sensation on both of your palms. You quickly washed away the soap as it was starting to burn and inspected your hands. Your palms. They were bruised and cut slightly. You stared at your palms and the crescent-shaped cuts on both of your palms. There were exactly 4 crescent-shaped cuts on each palm with a bunch of bruising around it. You realized it was from digging your fingernails into your palms yesterday. You did so in an attempt to stop crying but it didn't work. Oh well, now you have this to worry about as well, could your life get any worse? You made sure to carefully lather on the soap being wary of the cuts on your palms.

After you took a bath and got ready, you made sure to double-check that you had packed both your essays and the presentation pen drive. After confirming, you grabbed your backpack and hurried downstairs. Although you felt guilty for randomly rushing out during dinner, you didn't want to confront your parents. The nerves from your upcoming presentation were creeping up onto you and you were beyond terrified. You didn't feel hungry and didn't want any confrontation.

You quickly hurried down the stairs and avoided your parents' eyes. At this point, it had become regular for you to leave the house without a word. Your mom wouldn't bother too much since she knew you'd usually buy yourself something to eat at school itself. Or so she thought. It was a lie you told her a long time ago. Despite this, due to your unfinished conversation yesterday you feared they would come after you or confront you so you avoided them at all costs and rushed outside. Lucky for you, your parents didn't mind too much and carried on with what they were doing.

Outside, you noticed how the mist from yesterday had settled and was now fogging up the roads slightly. The mist collected on the grass on the side of the sidewalks in the form of dewdrops and you could smell the same earthy smell. You checked your phone once to get a glimpse of the time and realized you were quite early. Despite this, you still couldn't calm your nerves.

You gripped both straps of your backpack, not lifting your head. You stared at the ground kicking small pebbles along your way. The entire walk to school was quite uneventful and not too interesting. You mainly stayed on the same side of the sidewalk and luckily nothing came in your way. It was a 5-7 minute walk to school since you lived quite close to school and didn't see the point in wasting gas.

Once you reached your school, you tried ignoring everyone in your way, just trying to submit your essays. You were quite nervous and just wanted to remove some burden from your shoulders so submitting your essays early in the morning would be the best option. You rushed into the school building immediately setting your target on your science class that was a few floors up.

Fortunately, the hallways and stairways were mostly empty with just a few teachers and staff and maybe 5-7 students. That was one of the perks of being this early, you could get things done freely without being rushed by the students. You decided to stop at the principles office first, and then drop off your science essay.

You had to drop off your mid-term essay outside the principles office where a few teachers were collecting them. You made your way to the outside of your principal's office to drop off your paper. While walking there, the pace of your heart quickened, although you were simply dropping off your essay, something about being this close to the principles office didn't sit right with you. As you got closer you could feel the tingly feeling in your stomach, caused by the nerves. You carefully walked right in front of the drop-off desk and greeted the teacher. You were asked to fill in your name and the date dropped off, so you were handed a pen.

You were mindful not to let the pen put pressure against the cuts in your palm, but couldn't help but wince softly as the pen brushed against them as you picked it up. The teacher simply looked at you and you forced a smile. As soon as you dropped off your essay, you rushed away from there as soon as possible to a less scary area.

You made your way to your science class and dropped off your essay about expectancy value and took your seat in class. You were quite proud of the essay you wrote since you felt like you portrayed your opinion quite well. You also had science first period anyways, so you took your usual seat near the window in the front of the class and started to unpack.

You waited for at least 10 to 15 minutes before your science teacher came into class. He wasn't surprised that you were early since you usually came quite early. When you noticed he entered class, you immediately averted eye contact and looked somewhere else. In all honesty, your science teacher scared you.

All the other girls gushed over how he was just 5 or 6 years older than you and was handsome. You didn't see what they saw in him as you knew he had ulterior motives. You noticed the blatant sexism in class and how he always paid more attention to the girls, explaining it to them in detail while just brushing off the guys. You noticed how whenever everyone left class, he would stare at the exposed legs of the female students caused by the knee-length skirt that was a part of the school uniform. You noticed how he would favor the girls in general, letting them have their way, even letting them use their phones in class from time to time.

Although he hadn't made any advances, he was still really sleazy in general, and the very thought of him creeped you out. You didn't have too many personal encounters with him, just a few weird looks here and there, so you tried to avoid him as much as you could. When he noticed that you were not paying attention to him he sighed and collected his things. Usually, he would simply leave you alone, knowing school would start soon, but since the both of you were quite early he tried making conversation.

"Hey Y/n, Good morning!" He said all of a sudden. You whipped your head up, surprised that he was talking to you since he had never done so before.

"Hi" You hesitantly replied making sure to not seem too nervous, but also look a little busy so he would leave you alone.

"How's everything going? Are you feeling okay?" Although you knew he asked you that question simply wanting to ask you how you were feeling, you couldn't help but think to last night when you had a similar conversation with your parents.

"U-um, I'm fine, yeah, I'm good" You stuttered, diverting your attention elsewhere indicating you were done with the conversation.

He simply sighed and sat back down on top of his desk. He noticed that you had submitted your science essay/report and decided to read a bit of it before class started hopefully to give you someone on one feedback.

He picked up the paper and the rustling of the pages alerted you. You looked back at him only to notice that he was reading your essay. You felt nauseous and giddy all of a sudden. He wasn't supposed to be reading your essay now, especially in front of you. Your mouth got dry and you tried to calm yourself. You looked away so he wouldn't notice your stare as he continued reading for the next 2 or 3 minutes.

You looked back at him from time to time and noticed how his eyebrows were scrunched. You saw his somewhat disappointed expression and your stomach dropped. Was your essay not okay? Was he going to fail you? Your breaths got shallower and you looked around trying to calm yourself. All of a sudden, your science teacher spoke.

"Y/n, this was not what was asked of you" He stated matter-of-factly. You felt frustrated and embarrassed and your heart was in your throat. You tried clearing your throat to be able to speak. You looked back up at him, finally making eye contact, and gulped.

"I don't- I don't understand, I did what was-" You finally got out, only to be interrupted by him again.

"No, you didn't. It seems like you're disproving the experiment instead of proving it true. Meet me after class, we can discuss how to fix it." He stated, looking at you with a distressed smile. You forced back a smile and quickly looked away.

Eventually, students began to fill up the class and around 10 minutes after that dreadful conversation, the class had finally started. Unfortunately for you, you kept spacing out and couldn't pay attention to what was being taught due to your mind lingering on your stupid science essay. You began to think it was your fault. Maybe you hadn't studied hard enough? Maybe you just weren't smart enough? You put your head down and proceeded to bear the next 85 minutes or so, absentmindedly.

Luckily for you, your teacher hadn't called on you even once. He simply kept teaching and asking other students questions. You noticed how he tried to make jokes from time to time while all the girls giggled, and although your head was down, you knew he most likely had a smug smile on his face. You scoffed and kept getting lost in your thoughts. After what felt like an eternity, you finally through the class.

Now, it was time to finally confront your science teacher after class and you were not looking forward to it. You acted as if you were packing your bag so the other students wouldn't suspect anything. The last thing you wanted was for them to think you were spending time outside class with your science doing god knows what.

After everyone left, you sat back at your desk and waited for him to call on you, or notice you hoping, to get this over with as soon as possible. He grabbed your paper again and went through it again. You sighed and looked down. He slowly shifted his gaze towards you and ushered for you to grab a chair and sit next to his desk.

You huffed and picked up your chair dragging it to his desk. You plopped it down and took a seat on it. He sighed and brought his chair next to yours sitting on it as well. He began to explain that the experiment that he expected was a 'scientific' one with tangible results instead of a "social experiment" to quote directly. You huffed getting annoyed, how could he say that psychological studies weren't as valid? They were equally important. You sighed and looked away getting frustrated.

He wanted to explain it better, and went to get his pen that was next to you. Instead of asking you to give it to him, like a normal person, he rested his hand on your knee, reaching over to get it. On the outside, you kept your cool but inside you were freaking out. You glared daggers at his hand which was on your knee and didn't lift your gaze, as if staring at his hand was going to make him take it off.

Even after he reached over and got his pen, his hand was still on your thigh. He began to talk about some random experiment but you weren't paying attention. Why wasn't he taking his hand off you? You tried adjusting and moving your leg, crossing them over, to get him to let go, but his grip was firm.

"Hey, Y/n are you listening?" He clarified all of a sudden. You slowly pulled your gaze away from your knee and looked him dead in the eye. You glared at him, indicating you didn't want this. Despite this, he just didn't know when to stop, did he?

"Hey, calm down, what's wrong?" He asked sincerely. If only his actions reflected the same care, you knew he knew what he was doing. In an attempt to calm you down, his hand moved further up, grasping your thigh. You gasped and looked up at him with your mouth agape.

"Let go." You said sternly, you knew he was your teacher but he had to know his limits.

"Hey, I didn't mean it like that, it's alright," He said, the grip on your thigh becoming tighter. No, this was most definitely not okay. Due to the thin fabric of your school uniform skirt, you could feel his hand completely. You scrunched your eyebrows in disgust as you tried scooting backward. He got up though, towering over your shorter figure. You tried pulling away only for him to grip tighter.

"I didn't do anything" He stated firmly, grasping your wrist. He held your wrist tightly, not letting go. You cowered under him, still trying to pull yourself away.

"You don't want this?" He asked shamelessly. You shook your head rapidly, tears stinging in your eyes. He scoffed, roughly releasing your arm. You sighed, instantly getting as far away from him as possible, grabbing your backpack. You quickly shoved your remaining stationery in the first zip you found and threw your backpack over your shoulder, rushing out.

As you were about to leave though you heard him speak up again.

"Do not speak of this to anyone. I'm afraid I will have to fail you for this paper" He said trying to make you feel guilty. You couldn't care less though, without looking back, you nodded your head and left the class.

You cleared your throat as it had closed up. You realized you were crying in the middle of the hallway, so you quickly rushed to the toilet. Luckily, no one saw you, but you still wanted to get away, to freshen yourself up. You splashed water on your face trying to forget what happened in class a few minutes ago.

After that terrifying incident with your science teacher, the rest of the day was quite uneventful. You eventually got through your other subjects including music, and your presentation was a disaster. You weren't able to pay attention to what you were saying since your mind was still in different places. You stuttered your words and kept repeating the same thing.

Your peers realized you were distracted and your teacher knew you were bothered since your presentations were usually quite clear and informative. Thus, this time, they decided to let you off the hook. You were thankful that no one commented on that crappy presentation and simply went back to your seat.

Since you had music for the last period itself you were able to call it a day right after. You decided to skip your after-school commitment since you simply had too much on your mind.

After that shitty day, you decided to try to get your mind off of it by taking a walk in the green space near your apartment. You knew that it would mostly be empty right now as it was a weekday and because it was almost 4 pm, meaning it would most likely rain again.

You were still 5 minutes away from home, so you decided to walk home to the green space nearby. The entire walk there was quite silent. You took this time to try to process and understand the emotions you were feeling. It was getting fairly chilly due to the cold breeze, wind, and mist blowing. You folded both of your arms, rubbing them up and down, trying to get rid of the coldness.

The walk was quite short and you reached there in no time. Since the green area was right in front of your apartment, you could see your window from it. As soon as you reached, you saw your car leaving the apartment. Peeking around the corner, you realized it was your car. Your dad must have just left to go see your grandparents. You tried to hide a little, just in case. If your mom saw you here she would be disappointed that you lied to your dad about meeting your teacher after school.

You found a bench that faced away from your window just in case, so no one from your apartment could see your face. By the time, you found a good spot and settled and sat down, it was around 4:30 pm. You didn't really have a reason for coming to the park. You simply wanted to get your mind off of school, the workload, the stress, and what happened in the morning, so now that you were here, you didn't know what to do. Fortunately, tomorrow was slightly lighter. You didn't have any assessments due tomorrow, but you wanted to check in with your peers to ask them what you missed in the after-school session today and revise that before tomorrow.

Other than that though, you didn't know what to do. Due to this, you ended up spacing out. You simply sat on the bench rubbing your knees from the freezing wind from time to time just staring into the abyss. Quite honestly, it didn't feel forced, awkward or uncomfortable, it felt... calming. You felt a lot of comfort in the fact that you could just take time to process everything. Your way of doing that? Sitting out in the cold breeze, staring at nothing, mind blank. It didn't feel like a waste of time and you definitely didn't regret spending your time gazing at the nature.

Ever since you were young, you had a habit of counting the birds in trees or on the ground. Today was no different. Now that you were out in the nature, it made it easier to count them. You didn't do it for any particular reason, it was just a way of coping and de-stressing. You sat for a good 2 hours just observing everything around you and not doing anything. This included counting birds, staring into nothingness, daydreaming, and spacing out. You were suddenly interrupted by a honking car nearby.

You checked the time and realized it was 6 already. You freaked out and instantly got up, picking your bag. You didn't even realize it had started to drizzle and your sweater/school uniform started collecting water in the form of small droplets. You grabbed your bag, slinging it over your back, walking home, which was just a minute away, right opposite the park. You looked around making sure nobody saw you. Although you quite liked sitting out and simply doing nothing, you could understand how other people might have thought you were absolutely crazy for sitting out and doing nothing for 2 and a half hours.

You sighed looking around. You didn't want to go home just yet and didn't have anywhere else to go. The rain started getting a little heavier and you just gave up, looking up at the sky. Your clothes instantly clung to your figure and you shivered at the coldness.

You decided to take a walk around the nearby neighborhood since you didn't have anywhere else to go. This was actually quite rare. You usually never had the time to come outside and think about your life or reflect on anything as you were always cooped up in your bedroom doing work.

You huffed, rubbing your hands together. By now, your hair and clothes were drenched and your face was covered in water drops. You decided to visit the Mapo bridge to view the Han river from above. Ever since childhood, it was one of your favorite places as you were able to see the Han river below you, the Yeongdeungpo district to your left, and the Mapo district to your right. It had always been a calming sight.

It would take around 10-15 minutes to get there by car from your house but since you didn't really have access to a car right now, you had to walk. You knew it would take at least 45 minutes to get there but you still didn't care.

Unlike the two hours you spent at the park doing literally nothing, this felt different. You thought about the events happening in your life over the past few days, weeks, and months deciding to reflect on them during your journey.

You thought about your parents. How they always welcomed you with open arms while you often gave them the cold shoulder. You felt guilty that was for sure.

You thought about your friends. You had no close friends and the ones you had were slowly starting to drift away. You hadn't sat with them or even talked to them in over 2 weeks.

You thought about your studies. How you always stayed up late doing homework and taking notes while it never paid out. Instead, your crappy work just got you in more trouble.

You thought about the incident with your teacher today. How he touched you inappropriately and gripped your thigh. You shivered, pulling your skirt down slightly.

Unconsciously, tears had started to fall from your eyes. Luckily it was raining so nobody noticed anything too out of place. Despite this, you definitely got some weird stares. At first, the tears were silent. Your face was stoic while tears poured out of your eyes. Eventually though, recalling the painful memories and feelings was too much and your eyebrows furrowed. Your bottom lip trembled as you tried to contain your cries. It started off as light whimpers and occasional gasps.

You rubbed at your eyes and felt yourself losing control. Your cries got louder and you had to clasp a hand over your mouth. At this point, you didn't really care about anything else in the world and were overwhelmed by pain.

You threw your backpack onto some random chair god knows where, and continued walking. No without your backpack you felt freer, and both your hands flew to your face, as you walked in the cold rain.

Meanwhile, you had reached Mapo bridge and began to walk across the pedestrian section. Since it was raining, almost no one was on the bridge and you could finally let your emotions out freely. Your gasps got louder and you let out a strangled sob. Your hands flew to your face trying to cover it up, only for it to be followed by more cries.

As you walked to the middle of the bridge, stumbling across your steps not paying attention to what you were doing. You read the signs on the bridge.

"많이 힘들었구나" (It must be very hard)

"잘 지내지" (How are you)

"파란 하늘을 봐 봐" (Look at the blue sky)

They were mocking you. It was hard, you were not okay and nothing could make this pain better. Your eyes unconsciously closed your eyes and you let out a string of sobs. You choked on your tears, covering your face with your hands sobbing into them.

You rubbed at your eyes but nothing would stop this pain. You looked up at the Han river and thought for a moment. You looked down over the railing of the bridge and noticed the drop.

This was your chance. This was your chance to let go of all your pain and finally be free.

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Yunho was out with his friends. It was a rainy day and he had just gotten back from practice. On rainy days such as this one, he would often simply go on a drive with Hongjoong, Seonghwa, and Wooyoung. They were the three that enjoyed the rain and loved going on long drives. Their building was in Mapo but they decided to take a drive over to Yeongdeungpo since they had the rest of the day off.

The Mapo bridge was actually quite empty today. There weren't any cars or any people on the bridge. Since this was quite a rare occurrence, they decided to savor the moment and drive slowly enjoying their playlist while listening to the rain.

Wooyoung was driving while Seonghwa and Yunho were in the back, eating snacks and Hongjoong was picking a playlist. After popping a gummy bear in his mouth, Yunho decided to look outside and observe the Han river. All of a sudden though, around a hundred meters in front of their car near the left railing, a moving figure caught his eye. He was surprised that anyone would be out in the rain at this time. As they got slightly closer he realized they didn't have an umbrella either. As the car got even closer he realized that the figure was a girl. Your hair was drenched and so were your clothes. He stared at you weirdly wondering what on earth you were doing. You simply slid down the railing sitting on the floor, sobbing your eyes out and Yunho's eyes widened. He realized you were crying as your entire body was shaking with sobs and your hands were over your face.

He suddenly felt the urge to help and spoke up.

'Woo, slow the car for one second" He whispered softly and Wooyoung simply looked back and Yunho shrugging. He obliged and slowed down the speed of the car. Yunho continued to observe you. He didn't want to get out of the car since it was raining and he didn't have an umbrella but continued to watch you.

He watched the way your hands came up from your face and you gripped the roots of your hair. He watched how you tried to cover up your cries by cupping your hand over your mouth from time to time only for your to cry harder as your eyes squinted shut.

While they were driving past slowly, everyone was minding their own business while Yunho was still staring at you. Hongjoong had realized how Yunho was giggly before and then became silent all of a sudden and decided to check up on him. Hongjoong looked up at Yunho from the rear mirror, only to find his gaze locked on something outside. Hongjoong followed his gaze and found you as well. He saw that you were crying and stayed silent not knowing what to do.

Yunho was still looking at you and didn't notice how his leader was now also intrigued. He noticed how you roughly rubbed at your eyes getting up. He thought that you were done crying and that this was just a mini breakdown. Besides, everyone had bad days and maybe your way of letting it out was crying in the rain. Hongjoong averted his eyes as he saw you get up, giving you some privacy while Yunho kept his gaze locked on you.

He noticed how you were now facing the railing and looking out at the river. All of a sudden though, he saw you take off your shoes and a sudden wave of urgency washed over him.

"Stop the car!" He yelled at Wooyoung, while everyone in the car visibly flinched at his sudden voice, looking at him with concern. Wooyoung abruptly stopped the car, causing everyone to jerk slightly. The door immediately flew open and Yunho ran out of the car not caring whether his clothes got wet. Seonghwa had gasped and scooted to Yunho's side, peeking through, looking at what was going on.

Meanwhile, Yunho's intuition was correct. He knew something was wrong and the second you took off your shoes, he knew what you were trying to do. After you took off your shoes, you firmly grasped the railing of the bridge, hoisting yourself up, to sit on it. You looked around you, making sure no one was watching, although you didn't care at this point. Your mind was made up.

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You slowly scooted to the end of the railing, your hand tightly gripping the railing. You looked down, all that was below you was a 60-foot drop and lots of water. You sighed out shakily and looked back one last time. Your hands slowly let go and you breathed in a deep breath of air. You looked up at the sky and let out a wave of sobs before pushing yourself off the railing.

You expected to immediately feel the cold breeze hitting you as you fell over the bridge but you didn't. Instead, you felt a strong force pulling you backward.

The back of your head roughly collided with the concrete ground of the bridge and you let out a yelp. You looked around you processing your surroundings. You expected to be in the water by now, taking your final breaths. Instead, you were still back on the bridge and you fell back instead of forward.

You looked around suddenly, gripping the back of your head wanting to know who or what the fuck stopped you from doing so. Although you were mad you couldn't help but cry.

You sat up on the ground, knees close to your chest as you covered your hands and sobbed. You let out such painful cries, guttural noises, filled with pain. You cried, each cry letting out more sorrow than the last.

Little did you know, someone was scanning all your actions on the side, not knowing how to process the situation that just happened. He just witnessed someone who almost committed suicide.

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The second, he realized you took off your shoes, he knew that you were going to jump. It was a common occurrence, especially on this bridge. His intuition was proven correct when he saw you hoist yourself onto the railing. You were going to jump.

His body was moving on its own at that point and kicked the door open, rushing out as fast as possible. He didn't care about his clothes or his very expensive shoes, keeping only one goal in mind. As you scooted closer to the edge of the railing his heart stopped. He sprinted to the railing as fast as he could, almost slipping along the way. He roughly wrapped his big arms around your waist and he yanked you backward. He fell back onto the bridge and let go of your waist, catching his won fall, while you simply fell backward with force.

As you broke down in front of him, he felt a stinging in his heart. By now, Hongjoong and Seonghwa had also stepped out of the car with an umbrella, a little more cautious as they stood near the car itself, giving you a little space.

Yunho decided to slowly make a move to check up on you. He called out softly, but you didn't hear him.

"Excuse me?" He asked carefully, bottom lip caught in between his teeth from nervousness. You couldn't hear him over the rain and your sobs and frankly didn't care about anything else but the overwhelming pain in your heart.

He looked around nervously, before lifting a hand. He hesitantly brought it closer to you, doubting whether to touch you. He was wondering if you'd be comfortable, but he really wanted to help. He resorted to gently tapping your shoulder with his hands to alert you of his presence.

The second you felt his touch you immediately flinched, not noticing another person's presence. You looked up at him, before clasping your hand over your mouth. Although you knew that it was futile at this point, you still tried your best to cover up your sobs. You let out a string of sobs before squeezing your eyes shut and muttering apologies nonstop.

You kept stopping yourself with your cries but continued to whisper apologies. Yunho's eyes widened as he rapidly shook his head. Why on earth were you apologizing to him? As you looked up at him he noticed how strands of your wet hair clung to your face, your swollen and red eyes as well as your pink-tinted nose. He knew you must have been crying for a long time as your eyes reflected nothing but pain as they were completely bloodshot.

"Hey, hey, hey, I've got you" He whispered as he started patting your back. You nodded as you scooted closer. At this point, you didn't care how you were acting, simply trying to process what was happening. You pulled yourself together trying to get words out.

"May, I lean on you?" You softly whispered, voice breaking in the middle. Yunho hesitantly agreed, opening his arms up for you. You broke down again. You knew that you had been crying a lot that day, and maybe you were overreacting a bit, but in the heat of the moment, you simply couldn't stop.

You leaned into his warm chest taking in his musky scent that was slowly being washed away by the rain as he slowly crept a hand up to your back, rubbing it up and down.

"I'm here, I've got you, You're alright" He whispered into your hair. He knew you weren't in the right mind, but let you have your way just for now. You scrunched his now wet hoodie in your smaller fists as you tried to regain your composure.

You pulled away from a little embarrassed and looked away, knowing very well that he had already seen you, so there was no point. Yunho scooted further a little embarrassed too.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked softly and you shook your head, looking back up at him. You were surprised to see that his nose was slightly pink and his eyelashes were glistening in tears too. You felt guilty and apologized, a little embarrassed.

"I'm sorry for upsetting you," You said all of a sudden, and he shook his head rapidly.

"No, please don't apologize. I can't even begin to imagine the pain you must be in to want to take your own life." He whispered the last part, still not wanting to agitate you. You nodded and backed away. Yunho suddenly then realized the situation he was in, it was raining and the coldness was starting to get to him, he couldn't even imagine how much pain you must have been in to completely feel numb to it.

"It's raining and it's cold outside, do you want to sit inside our car, we have a heater" He interjected all of a sudden. You got nervous all of a sudden not knowing how to respond.

"I- I- can't-, I'm not sure" You stuttered your words and he noticed your discomfort, trying to divert the topic.

"Do you have anywhere else to go?" He asked looking at you sincerely and you shook your head. You couldn't go home like this. You averted your gaze while he tried to come up with a solution that you were comfortable with. All of a sudden though, you spoke up.

"Where are you going?" You asked and he tried to come up with a comforting answer real quick, one that would convince you to go with them.

"We are just heading to Yeongdeungpo, would you be interested in tagging along?" He asked sincerely. Your grandparents lived there, and you knew they would welcome you without asking questions, so you could go stay at theirs if you wanted to, so you nodded your head.

"Are you sure?" He confirmed with you and you nodded.

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It was safe to say the car ride there was anything but comfortable. You were in a car full of strangers wherein 2 of you were soaking wet.

"What on earth were you thinking?" One of them asked you all of a sudden, and you noticed the male who was with you earlier glared daggers back at them.

"I- um, I didn't- I'm not-" You kept fumbling over your words.

"She's not obligated to answer that." The man from earlier said sternly. You mumbled a thank you and continued to look outside. A few more minutes of silence passed as he tried to break the awkward silence.

"I never got your name by the way," He said all of a sudden, and without looking back you answered.

"Y/n," You said, cutting the conversation short. You weren't in the mood to talk. The other male nodded and introduced himself and the others.

"Well, I'm Yunho, this is Hongjoong, Seonghwa, and Wooyoung" He pointed at them but you didn't look at them, simply nodding, facing the other direction. Through the side mirror of the car, you noticed the boy in the front, the one that had slightly longer hair in the back, and was significantly shorter, glaring at Yunho. You assumed they were not comfortable introducing their identities just yet and you were okay with that.

Most of the car ride was quiet. You let out occasional sighs and whimpers due to the cold but there were no other comments or conversations.

Halfway through the ride though, the boy from earlier, the one who asked you what you were doing on the bridge, Seonghwa, spoke up again.

"Are you okay though?" He trailed off at the end. The other three boys looked at him with wide eyes, presumably glaring, telling him off, when you suddenly cut those thoughts off.

"I don't know" You answered sincerely. In all honestly, nobody had expected you to speak up, so when you did, they were all ears. You sighed before continuing.

"Everything is just so hard on me" You sighed out, as your voice broke at the end of the sentence. You decided that was enough or else you knew you wouldn't be able to stop if you said more. Although your answer was somewhat ambiguous, they didn't want to pressure you.

They all just nodded trying not to make it seem like a big issue. You noticed how Yunho sighed silently next to you before scooting closer to you. This didn't go unnoticed by you. His knees made contact with your fingers which were on either side of you, on the seat, and you looked back up at him questioningly.

"Are you sure you don't want to talk about it? I'm all ears, you don't have to worry about feeling vulnerable. In all honesty, it's best to let your feelings out. You seem like the type to bottle everything up, but you clearly have a lot on your mind, you can tell me if you're comfortable." He whispered sincerely, only of you to hear. You were still looking into his eyes, and unconsciously tears started welling up in your eyes again at the sincerity and care in his voice. You had never told anyone about your problems and this was your chance. A tear slipped down your cheek and you roughly wiped at it, scoffing softly.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what's gotten into me today" You let out a soft breathy laugh, but the both of you knew it was not funny. He looked at you sternly, faux anger on his face as he felt frustrated that you were treating yourself this way, frustrated that you were reducing yourself to an emotionless robot.

"Don't say that. Emotions are what make you human, you don't need to feel embarrassed." He said and you nodded, slowly scooting closer to him. He didn't mind. Although the proximity was making him a little nervous, he was trying his best to comfort you.

He decided to test the waters by putting his arm around you. He slowly and slyly snaked his arm behind your back, since you were leaning forwards and slowly made contact with the small of your back. When he noticed that you were comfortable with it, he tried putting a little pressure to pull you closer and you went with the flow. You leaned into him, with your head on his shoulder, as one of his arms was around you. You both needed the warmth anyways as you were freezing. It was silent for a bit before you decided to speak up.

"My science teacher molested me." You said breathily. His eyes widened as he tried pulling away from you. With this new bit of information, he realized that the close proximity of you two could be making you nervous. He wasn't able to pull away though since your back was flush against the back of the seat, and you didn't seem too uncomfortable so he decided to keep it there. He rubbed your back up and down urging you to continue.

"I don't- I'm not sure what I did wrong. I disproved the experiment instead of verifying it and he got mad." You paused and took in a shaky breath of air. At this point, your voice sounded pathetically weak and vulnerable but you knew only Yunho could hear you since you were whispering to him, so you had nothing to worry about. He just let out a hum into your hair as you continued.

"He called me to stay after class the discuss the paper and I stayed. I fucking stayed. I stayed despite knowing his sleazy ass would try to pull something on me. After all the students left he called me over to his desk..." You stopped yourself off as you felt your voice wavering. At this point, Yunho could feel his stomach doing flips just thinking about the situation you were in. The fact that it seemed like you were blaming yourself made him feel even worse. Nonetheless, you continued.

"He grabbed my knee and then my thigh and when I told him to let go, he didn't. He even had the audacity to ask me whether I wanted to go further. When I said no, he- he said I would fail. This is all my fault, what the fuck is wrong with me." You let out breathily into Yunho's wet hoodie. His heart broke when he heard you blaming yourself, you couldn't be further from the truth.

"Hey, please don't blame yourself. You have no reason to blame yourself, Y/n. You put your heart into that essay and he didn't like it because his narrow-minded brain couldn't accept new ideas. Furthermore, I'm sure he only used it as an excuse to hurt you. I'm sure your essay was great, and please don't blame yourself for him touching you. What he did was wrong and is all his fault." He paused finally, a little breathless from rambling. You nodded thinking he was done, only for him to continue speaking.

"I'm going to give you my number... Feel free to call me after today, I want to help you. I want to help you speak your side and arrest your science teacher for he did to you" You mumbled a soft okay as you leaned deeper into his embrace.

"I shouldn't feel like this" You suddenly said. Yunho had assumed the conversation was over when you told him about your science teacher but regardless he was ready to listen, no matter what it was.

"Why?" He asked sincerely, ready to scold you again for putting yourself down for having emotions.

"I have loving parents. I study at a good school. I usually get decent grades. I have 2-3 friends who I talk to sometimes. My family can afford the resources I need to feel content. Then why the fuck do I feel like this?" You asked more to yourself than Yunho and he knew this, but he had an answer.

"So?" He countered, waiting for a reaction from you but you had none.

"Even the most privileged people are not happy hun. Satisfaction and content come from within. You may have everything you need but still not feel satisfied with yourself. Is there anything about yourself that is bothering you?" He asked and you furrowed your eyebrows. What he was saying made a lot of sense...

"You- I-, I guess... I feel stressed all the time, and I'm not happy with the work I produce since I'm stressed and overwhelmed, but how did you know-"

"How do I know?" He interrupted you while you looked at him with wide eyes.

"Because I've felt the exact same way a few years ago." Now it was your turn to be shocked.

"I'm training to be an idol and I spent countless nights practicing my dancing and singing, but I never felt happy with my skills. I always thought I could get better, and that led to a sort of addiction. I stayed up late at our studio practicing and my sleep schedule was fucked up." You chuckled breathily at his word choice and how he let a curse word slip in. He noticed and smiled back down at you.

"When I finally understood and accepted the problem I got better. My mental health took a turn for the better and I was more proud of my accomplishments. Besides, I consider myself a decent singer now" He laughed at the end as you joined him.

"I'm proud of you for reaching your goal and bettering yourself," You said honestly as you patted his chest.

"I just hope I can fix myself one day too." You said honestly.

"I'm sure you will be able to. It takes time and perseverance, so please never give up. You're a beautiful, talented, and valuable person, never doubt yourself." He said and you nodded in his embrace.

That's where the conversation ended for now. The silence was not awkward at all. Instead, it was quite comforting as you had a lot to think about and process. Yunho's words definitely shifted the way you looked at life.

Yunho got a little more confident and trailed his arm upwards of your back and into your wet hair. He ran his hands through your wet hair as you scooted closer to him. He gently rubbed his hands across your scalp relaxing you. Despite him being a stranger, from the way he listened to you, saved your life, and comforted you, you knew he was someone you could trust.

Meanwhile, the boy in the front, Hongjoong looked through the rear mirror, looking at the position you and Yunho were in. He and Yunho suddenly made eye contact through the mirror, and Yunho got nervous, his eyes widening as he realized his leader had seen the position he was in, but that went away as he realized Hongjoong was smiling back at him with a soft smile across his face.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Unknowingly, you had fallen asleep in Yunho's arms. When Hongjoong realized you fell asleep he patted Seonghwa's shoulder pointing to the two of you. You had fallen asleep on Yunho's shoulder, resting your head against it, while his head was on top of yours, also asleep. Seonghwa almost squealed when he saw the position you were in. They exchanged a few knowing looks before you finally arrived at your stop.

Yunho woke up before you and you were awoken by a messy-haired, still sleepy but smiley Yunho, ushering you to go outside. You got up, rubbing at your eyes as you looked around. You realized you were still in the car with all of the boys looking at you. You got embarrassed and quickly fixed yourself before shooting a confused look at Yunho. Suddenly, the man driving, Wooyoung, spoke up.

"I dare you and Yunho to go to 7/11 to get us snackssss" He playfully said and you smiled.

"Don't forget to get yourself a new pair of clothes too, you're soaking wet and probably cold. Although, I don't think that was much of a problem considering you were practically on top of eachoth- OOF" Seonghwa was cut off but Yunho roughly shoving his side. For the first time in the past week, you let out a genuine laugh and all the boys turned to look at you, as you bent over in laughter. Their eyes widened and Yunho swore it was the most melodious sound he had ever heard.

Feeling empowered and having a new perspective on life, you decided to go with the flow. Besides, you were given a second chance at life, you weren't going to waste it, moping around. You decided to make a change, and that change started today.

"Well big boy, are you coming with me or not?"

114 notes · View notes

drxwsyni · 4 years

Text

Pumpkin Pie

Pairing: Yandere Dabi x f!Reader

Summary: With the fall season upon you, a longing settles as you yearn for the seasonal festivities. Unable to let you go, Dabi decides to bring the autumn warmth to you from the safety of his apartment.

a/n: I really can’t excuse my unhealthy obsession for fall and soft!yan dabi, this is just a byproduct of that.

Here’s the pumpkin pie recipe I referenced, along with the string lights I had in mind. Also feel free to listen to a soft yan dabi playlist I made while reading!

4.5k words

Warnings: unhealthy relationship, captivity, stockholm syndrome

_____

If you pressed your hand to the glass of the window, you’d be able to feel the chill of fall seeping through it. Cold to the touch, letting you know that the visual of warm reds, oranges and yellows against the trees were accompanied by the drop in temperature.

Whether you were thankful for it or not, such a frigidness did not occupy your space, fought off by the heat that Dabi provided. Nestled into the window seat, you were curled up under a blanket in his apartment. A small and discrete complex, nothing shabby in the slightest, nestled on the edge of town.

Eyes following the movements of nature outside, you could see the rustle of the trees, wind blowing and stirring fallen leaves on the ground. Perhaps you would open a window, listen to the howling against it’s frame, hear the tumbling of foliage below you. But, you knew the window was locked, the glass not pure and fragile, instead being clear acrylic that wouldn’t break no matter what you did.

How you longed to feel that fall breeze on your skin, the goosebumps it would bring only a welcomed sensation. To have the leaves crinkle underneath your feet, breaking apart and scattering along the pavement. Sure, from where you sat, you could take in the view of the autumnal changes for as long as you wanted, ease the ache with it’s scenery from one spot.

Only, that’s not what you wanted.

Seeing was nothing like feeling. And right now, all you felt was the stagnant air of your shared bedroom. It was warm, unmoving. No sounds of outside life carried through the apartment, such a thing completely shut out by locked doors and sealed windows.

The smell, however―it wasn’t exactly one of desired freedom, but you couldn’t deny that it was strangely fitting for the season. Like burnt wood, smokey and subduing. Dabi always carried a certain scent that honestly wasn’t quite one you minded. Even his cologne complimented the natural air of something distinctly smouldered. Not overpowering, and not something to be hated.

But right now, the way it went hand in hand with the fall aura―it only shot a pang of sadness through your heart. The worst part about it was that you couldn’t quite place where such a sensation came from.

Because even after everything that happened between you and Dabi, what he’d done to you, you couldn’t bring yourself to detest the man.

Dabi never hurts you, he loves you wholeheartedly, a passion reserved to be put on full display in your presence. He’d do anything for you, if it meant you’d be safe―if it meant you’d feel loved (by him, of course). His unwavering gentleness he used on you, and only you was the sole reason you found it difficult to explain why you felt such distress.

That painful seed planted in your being had been growing for weeks now, you none the wiser as to how to get it to pass. It didn’t do anything to make you want to abandon Dabi, to have you seeking an escape from his fortified protection.

What it did do was slowly overtake your mind, drowning you in its suffocating disquietness, leaving you less responsive with each passing day.

You’d been with Dabi since the end of last winter, and not seeing much point in denying the comfort he brought, or rather not being able to, it didn’t take long to adopt a certain complacency. That didn’t mean you were overjoyed to be stuck in his apartment though. Not even close, in fact. By now you were just used to it, existing in its space because it was the only thing you could do.

And yet in these few passing weeks, the small routine you’d formed had slipped into the dark cloudiness of the back of your mind, your once somewhat lively behaviour dulled down in the presence of an invisible weight.

You let yourself go to the unsettling and energy leeching feeling, not even noticing it was sapping all of your motivation to do much of anything.

Naturally though, Dabi was keenly aware of the change in your behaviour.

When you started sleeping in a little longer, he didn’t think twice about it. Thought maybe you needed the extra shut eye, hoping it would make you feel better. Each day you stayed in bed a little longer, and eventually he realized you weren’t even sleeping―just mindlessly staring out the window.

You gave a noncommittal response when he questioned you on it. Something stirred inside of you at the worried look in his eyes, the knit in his brows as he sat on the edge of the bed, you still under the heavy covers.

In that moment, the two of you were polar opposites.

Confused at the way his concern made you feel, but quickly moving on once he left you to your devices. And Dabi, remaining fixated on your lack of response, knowing exactly what was wrong despite the few words you offered him.

Since that day, he never bothered to ask you what in particular seemed to be getting you down. Instead, he did what he could to be there for you. Praising you for any small accomplishments, helping you take care of yourself. And, of course, giving you all the affection you could possibly need.

But even then, no amount of reassurances and gentle embraces altered your quieted mood.

While you felt less and less with each day, only the indescribably pit in your stomach a tangible emotion, Dabi grew more conflicted.

He couldn’t let you go out.

It pained him to no ends seeing you like this―suddenly a dull shell of a human that you used to be. And he was trying everything he could think of to make you feel better, yet still it was all for naught. He knew that you wanted to go outside, the one thing he couldn’t give you. Even though you’d been exceptionally good for him, it still wasn’t time for that to happen.

You weren’t stepping foot outside of his apartment anytime soon, which meant that there was no chance you’d be able to seek the environment that was causing you such anguish.

But, that didn’t mean he couldn’t bring the fall festivities to you.

_____

Right now, it seemed your only routine consisted of getting lost in the passing day outside, curled up on the window seat as usual. Nothing was ever out of the ordinary like this.

So when the aroma of fresh baked goods wafted into the room, it stood out like a sore thumb.

The sounds of clinking utensils and shuffling in the kitchen normally faded into the background in your mind of wandering thoughts. Only now, the sound held a distinct forefront in your senses, sparking curiosity inside you.

Body moving on its own, your sock clad feet landed on the floorboards as you rose from your seat, abandoning the view from the window in favour of seeking that of the kitchen. You felt a little hesitant, more unsure of whether you really cared enough to find out what was happening, when you could just as easily resume your long houred and mindless behaviour.

However, whatever was baking in the oven had a stronger hold on you than the outside world at the moment.

Creaking at the hinges, the bedroom door opened as you pushed past it, following the strangely comforting scent. Padding down the hallway, you soon met your destination, now coming face to face with whatever commotion had prompted you to venture this far.

Your curious eyes landed upon Dabi’s figure, rummaging through a brown paper grocery bag, pulling out the items and setting them on the countertop. Likely heading for the drawer behind him, he turned only to find you, standing just a small distance away.

Examining your face, he found that even just slightly, it held a peak of interest―the most you’d shown in nearly a month.

“Well hey there, sweets. What brings you around these parts?”

Wordless, your gaze drifted to the oven, a warm and low light shining through the glass panel of the door. A little nervously, your hands fiddled in front of you, not really knowing what to say.

That you forgot what fresh baked goods smelled like, and whatever was in the oven was literally making your mouth water?

In that low and raspy voice of his, Dabi chuckled a little to himself, resuming the task at hand. “Smell good? Hope it does―I haven’t got a single goddamn clue if I made the pie crust right.” Speaking through his actions, he grabbed a few measuring cups and spoons, shutting the drawer and making his way back to the counter with ingredients splayed across it haphazardly.

Once again, your curiosity got the better of you. “You’re making pie?”

Without looking at you, Dabi smoothly replied in a teasing tone. “Pumpkin pie―for my pumpkin.” At that he shot you a cheeky wink, the unanticipated comment causing your cheeks to heat up.

Seeing how just that brief sentiment already had you speechless for the moment, he continued.

“Come help me, make sure I don’t fuck this up, yeah?” Waiting for a response, he rested a hand on the counter, a small smile quirked on his lips.

It could’ve been how the pie crust’s aroma was quite literally tantalizing, or just that you didn’t want to deal with trying to negotiate your way out of this―but something inside of you didn’t want to let this strange chance for a heartwarming fall festivity go.

“Yeah, okay...I guess.”

Looking satisfied at your words, but not too much (he did have to try and contain his excitement after all), Dabi simply gave you a nod. “Good, go wash your hands then, squirt.”

Without another word, he began rooting through the ingredients and utensils once again, expecting you to heed his words.

And heed his words you did, making your way to the sink and soaking your hands in the warm water and soap. Drying yourself off, you stepped up to the counter where he was at, seeing all the things on display and at the ready.

Dabi had a printed out recipe propped up against a bag of flour, visible smudges of the substance lingering on the paper’s edges. Looking down, you saw that the pumpkin puree was already in a mixing bowl, the cans they came in nowhere to be seen.

“Think you can crack some eggs for me?” Reaching for the open carton, he handed you said eggs in question.

One at a time, you cracked three of them open against the edge of the bowl, doing your best not to get any shells in the mixture. While you were at it, Dabi got the brown sugar ready, a pleased smile threatening to grow as he watched you comply, you even behaving quite eagerly with night he’d set up for the both of you.

Just as if everything in the world was right, and the circumstances for you being there with him wasn’t as dark as you once recalled it out to be, the two of you settled into a comfortable air. You, relaxed as Dabi helped you measure out ingredients, a certain light in your eyes as you completed each step. And of course, the bubbling adoration he felt continued to simmer in his chest as you became more engrossed with something as simple as baking a pumpkin pie with each passing second.

The ingredients were slowly added to the bowl, Dabi laughing a little when you fussed over making sure you put in the proper amount of cinnamon, shooting down his idea to just eyeball it instead. When everything was finally in, the counter dusted with spices and cornstarch, you started whisking it together.

Or, well...you tried to, at least.

You huffed as the bowl kept sliding across the counter, you unable to hold it in place and stir at the same time.

Of course, Dabi found your little frustrated pout downright adorable. But for fear of you giving up and retiring to your room, he managed to find it in himself to help you.

As he sidled up behind your struggling form, you tensed slightly, only because you weren’t expecting the contact. Semi-scarred arms wrapped around you, Dabi peering over your shoulder with your back pressed into his chest. He gripped the bowl with both hands, pressing a quick light and chaste kiss onto the side of your head.

“Try it now.”

Once again following his instructions, you stirred the bowl’s contents in a circular motion, Dabi’s assistance greatly appreciated as you whisked it all together with ease. Not too much time later, the wet and dry ingredients were perfectly incorporated, creating a thick and reddish-brown, spice speckled mixture. You finished up your work with a tired but satisfied sigh, earning a proud “Atta girl,” from behind you.

Right in time for the oven to go off, Dabi reluctantly pulled away from you, taking his unique sense of heat with him. In oven mitt clad hands, he pulled out the halfway baked pie crust and set it upon the towel lined counter.

“Alright, scooch―don’t need you burning yourself.”

Not really knowing what else to do, you let Dabi take the reins as he poured the pumpkin filling into the pan, inserting it back into the oven and setting the timer for an hour. With that, he dusted his hands off on his black sweatpants, regrettably eying the mess the two of you had made.

For the first time that night, you spoke up before he did. “I guess...we should probably clean up a little?”

Dabi smiled, “...Guess we should.”

Falling into an unconscious routine you once knew, one you’d go through in a time before meeting Dabi, you moved about the kitchen and tidied up after yourself. You wiped down the counter and put everything away as he cleaned and rinsed the bowls and measuring cups, setting them on the drying rack. When the two of you were done, there was still roughly thirty or so minutes of time left for the pie to bake.

Hanging up a cup towel, you just barely got it on a hook before a set of hands spun you around by your hips. In the same motion, Dabi pushed you towards the counter’s edge, hoisting you up on its surface. Before you could get a word out, he was peppering your face in ghosted kisses, hands creeping up underneath your shirt and squeezing playfully at your waist.

A quiet fit of pleasantly confused giggles erupted from you, squirming in his grasp. You could feel the grin on Dabi’s face against your skin as he remained unrelenting with the sudden wave of affection, not budging as you not so seriously pushed against his broad chest. His body now slotted in between your legs, a hand left your waist in favour of cupping your cheek, before bringing you into a deep and passionate kiss.

Being so caught up in putting all your effort into sporadically baking pie on this dreary autumn evening, you didn’t even realize that the strange inexplicable feeling that had gripped you for weeks on end was slipping. Losing its hold on you more and more as Dabi’s lips moved against yours, arm circling around your waist and pulling you impossibly closer.

When he finally did part from you, a hint of a blush could be made out on his cheeks, you feeling a similar warmth in yours at the sudden intimacy displayed by the cremation user.

Noticing your mildly shocked expression, he let out a breathy exhale that could almost be excused as a laugh. “Sorry―couldn’t resist…”

You stayed where you were, only looking to the side, a little embarrassed yourself. “S’fine, I didn’t mind.” It wasn’t like he’d never done something like that before after all, it in fact paling in comparison to some of the other things you’d done with him during the dead of night.

He knew that just as much as you, but even after all this time, feeling you against him never failed to send a surge of yearning emotions through him. Such a sensation he found himself unable to replicate anywhere else, that not mattering when he would ever want to experience it if it wasn’t with you.

In an attempt to diffuse your clear sheepishness, Dabi slinked away, headed for the other side of the kitchen. “Got something for you,” he said matter of factly. Returning to your form perched on the countertop, he settled a grey and weighted plastic bag on your lap.

You gave him an inquisitive look, finding a spark of confidence deep inside you to poke at his intentions. “What’s the occasion?” Fingers carefully delving into the bag, you tore your eyes from his strikingly blue ones.

He took his place back in between your legs, leaning against the counter while observing you closely. “Didn’t know I needed a reason to give you a gift.”

Peering into the bag, you spoke while reaching for its contents. “Well...I guess you don’t, s’just kinda sudden is all.”

Dabi let out a low hum in response, the noise reverberating in his chest. “Just―hurry up and take a look, would’ya?”

Finding humour in his insistence, you softly shook your head, the corner of your lip drawing upwards. Not wanting to leave either of you waiting any longer, you pulled out a small cardboard box, about the size of your hand. Studying it a little more closely, you came to realize what it contained―string lights.

Looking through the sheer plastic panel, you could see the ropes of wires, all adorned with tiny LED lights encased in clear plastic maple leaves. Reds, oranges and yellows shone back at you when you pressed the test button on the outside of the box, its light illuminating both of your faces.

With a slight change in tone, leaning more towards a gentle reassurance, Dabi spoke when the silence continued to linger. “Figured you could put them around the window in our bedroom, or something…”

For a moment, you let the warm light cascade across the both of your features, eyes sparkling at the wonderful display of ambiance. You quickly got lost in its glow, a foreign object pulling you in and keeping you entranced.

Dabi however was growing a tad bit antsy, not being able to fully read your reaction. Always one to take matters into his own hands, at least when it came to you, he gently prompted you to hop off the counter. “C’mon, doll―why don’t you go hang ‘em up?”

Deep down, you could feel the stirring of appreciation building inside of you, genuinely moved at this little gift. So, you made no actions to stop him as Dabi helped you down, taking you by the hand and leading you to the bedroom. You watched patiently, if not quite enraptured as he pulled out the string lights from the box, unraveling them carefully. He set the cardboard container aside on the nightstand, motioning with a wave of his hand for you to join him near the window.

Hands slightly shaky, you worked to pin up the lights around the window’s frame. Dabi snickered to himself behind you when you jumped as he tried to steady you, hands suddenly grasping your hips as you stood on the seat trying to reach the top of the window. A little irked at his shameless actions, you sent him a tiny, unserious glare over your shoulder, only earning a knowing grin from him.

When everything was said and done, you stood back and flicked the switch, letting the mostly dimmed room be bathed in the comfortable glow it emitted. The illuminated leaves bounced off the reflective window, speckling it with even more light.

Oddly, in a way you couldn’t quite explain, the sight resonated nicely inside of you. Standing in its view, you didn’t even realize that a small smile had overtaken your expression. No words needed to be said to tell him that you were more pleased than you thought you’d be with the gift―not when the look on your face, how your eyes roamed over the decorations in awe told him all he needed to know.

Just as he was about to unleash a cheesy but loving sentiment upon you, the timer for the oven rang out, the both of you turning your heads with the sound.

From where you stood, the scent of the freshly baked dessert smelled amazing.

...If only it looked just as good.

It was your turn to laugh this time, Dabi sighing as he took the pie from the oven. To be honest, you weren’t entirely surprised to find that the crust was burnt to a degree that wouldn’t likely be edible.

Although, it would seem Dabi wasn’t very much shocked at the sight either. After setting the pan down on the counter, he walked over to the fridge, running a hand through his dark locks at the same time. “Kinda figured I’d find a way to fuck it up―I thought you were supposed to keep that from happening?”

You swung your legs as they failed to touch the floor from your seat, “I think it would’ve ended like that regardless…”

In any case, he certainly wasn’t going to let the high spirits die down, especially now that he had you acting a little more like yourself. So, he pulled Plan B from the fridge.

Another pumpkin pie was set down in front of you, pre-made, with a can of whipped cream on the side.

“Well, I hope you’ll take a store bought one. Probably better than anything I could come up with anyways.”

_____

The pie he picked up on the way home turned out to be just fine, and Dabi was glad that he took that precaution. Especially now that you were back to being curled up on the window seat, because this time you weren’t alone.

You let him join you, pulling you into his lap and wrapping you in a soft blanket. It had started to rain outside, and what would normally bring a dreary atmosphere only made him want to hold you closer.

Yes, maybe Dabi did turn down the heat in the apartment just so you’d gravitate towards him, but you didn’t need to know that. Not when you were so perfectly wrapped in his arms, the warm hues of the string lights surrounding you, a comforting lingering of the pumpkin aroma hanging in the air.

He would've loved for you to start a conversation, but Dabi knew that was unlikely to happen. Ever since he found you coming to terms with your situation with him, you grew considerably quiet. Painfully so in these past few weeks, not many words graced your lips. It was why the events of this afternoon meant so much to him.

For the first time in a long time, his actions seemed to be getting through to you. Even just this morning, the fleeting kiss he pressed into your cheek didn’t do all that much to earn a reaction. And yet, here you were now practically melting into his embrace.

As much as he wanted to bask in the ways you were coming around to him once again in such a short matter of time, the returned silence between the two of you was unsettling on his part. He could tell there was a still remaining sense of happiness inside you from the night's activities, and you were likely satisfied with what had unfolded.

But Dabi wasn’t―not quite yet.

“...You know I love you, right?”

The seconds that ticked by without a reply from you felt like hours in his mind. Though eventually you did respond, offering a small nod in understanding to his question.

Dabi brought a hand to the crown of your head, smoothing down your hair in soothing motions as he continued. “You asked what the occasion was...s’cause I just wanna see you happy.”

He hadn’t brought up his concerns with you since you more or less shut down in front of his eyes, for fear that pushing you would only make you resent him more. Yet now, in the comfort of feeling you lean into him, patiently letting him unload his worries upon you, his will to contain such feelings weakened.

“I wanna make you feel loved, but it’s hard when you shut me out.”

Something painful tugged in your chest as you heard him let out a shaky breath, the arm around you tightening its hold.

“I know I can’t give you what you really want, but I’m not just gonna watch you disappear on me either.”

Despite his words notioning to a past that would normally bring about anguish, the unbridled adoration laced into his tone made you look past all of that. It sounded strange, such promises coming from someone so harsh and gravely, but it only made it all the more sweeter. Because you knew he was only like that with you, telling you in ways that words could never describe just how much you meant to him.

In truth, you found it hard to decide on what to say―what he wanted to hear, while also being your truth at the same time. For reasons you couldn’t quite comprehend, the words on your tongue that you wanted to repeat back at him, those he’d told you countless times before―you couldn’t force them out. Call it shyness, but in the end it didn’t matter.

For now, you could only say what you were confident in. “Thank you for tonight, I-I had a lot of fun…”

If you looked hard enough, you’d be able to see how his features softened at your bashfully spoken admittance, his face illuminated by the string lights and reflecting in the window panes. Only, the fact that you were shyly burrowing your face into his chest ruined that chance, you bringing the blanket further up your body.

Even if he did want to hear more of your voice, Dabi was now more than satisfied with what he was given. He knew of the words you couldn’t tell him, reading it in the way you let him hold you, how you sought out a warmth that only he could provide. And really, there was more than enough time for you to work up the courage you lacked at the moment.

You weren’t going anywhere, and neither was he. While although the seasons outside continued to change, his love for you would always remain the same. Unfaltering, never withering as you only made those feelings grow more, if that was even possible.

Dabi made a note that he’d try to bring to you all the things you longed for from the safety of his home. Hopefully, that would be enough. And judging by how well tonight's festivities were received, he could take a guess that it was only a matter of time until you’d make it out of this seasonal funk you were in.

Choosing now to simply enjoy having you so close, Dabi resolved that his efforts were a success. He joined you in gazing out the window, the rain falling in steady streams and washing away the fallen leaves of the day.

“Anytime, doll.”

#yandere dabi #yandere dabi x reader #yandere mha #yandere bnha #yandere my hero academia #yandere bnha x reader #yandere x you #yandere writing #tw stockholm syndrome #tw unhealthy relationship #tw captivity

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lovely-necromancy · 3 years

Text

A Cure for Insomnia CH.4

WARNING OF DEPICTION OF A PANIC ATTACK and mentions of drugging.

////////

The rest of the day went by pretty uneventfully. That is after Nate lectured you about stranger danger and how you couldn't just walk forty miles in two hours. You really have no clue how you messed up the math that bad or how calling Nate for a ride never crossed your mind. Nate made you promise not to get into another stranger's car, especially without knowing their fucking names.

“I mean seriously YN, you just hopped in their car because they had a dog?! That's literally the first thing they tell you not to do when you learn about stranger danger!” he said munching on a boston cream donut. It was a good thing you'd brought donuts because you caused this man to stress eat...or was that a bad thing?

After you agreed to having better stranger danger instincts, Nate told you things would be run a little differently around the shop. Apparently the camera out back had died on Sunday, which although weird could be explained away as a camera that hasn't been updated or switched out since the shop was opened, maybe even before then too. So unfortunately Big Jo and Nate still didn't know who broke into your car or if they had been looking for anything. But Big Jo still wants to take precautions like the two of you leaving together and in the morning one of you waiting in their car with the doors locked for the other to come and then entering the building together.

Nate also mentioned a few other things, shipping and inventory related, that wouldn't really pertain to you or change any of your current tasks. It's really just to limit the amount of people coming through the back room. The back room was the emptiest you've ever seen when you went to check on your deer skull. You wonder if you hadn't been hired who would've gotten this position and how long they'd be able to keep their mouth shut about the obviously illegal activity going on. But you remember the person who had this position before you had been Bambi, a sweet if not oblivious girl. So, had you not come along the Cowells would have probably found someone else who didn't have an ounce of perception for their surroundings.

The week goes by slowly and with no further incidents. The deer skull has been completed and you plan on taking it to Maddie's Workshop next week to get a mount for it. In the time that you were bleaching and polishing the bones Nate took it upon himself to clean around the shop. Even though he's made it clear you just have to do your task list here, which takes about an hour maybe two depending on the tasks, he's always working on something.

Nate's the type of guy who's never content to just chill he needs to keep moving always chasing that high you get from accomplishing a goal, whatever he's made his that day. He's probably just substituting whatever he did daily with these new deep cleans of his.

Even with the lack of incidents following your car's break in the two of you have kept to the new precautions. Nate even going so far as to remind you tonight that on Monday if you arrive before him you'll need to stay in the car. At this point you think it's less about safety and more about the security of the store's extra curricular activities. Either way you don't really mind.

Things seemed to return to normal, you were back to driving yesterday and after you rearranged furniture in your house you felt a little less on edge. And every night this week you'd been able to get a good night's sleep, which although not too strange did stand out to you. Maybe another thing that had kept you on edge this week, because it meant when you saw a shadow pass by you during the day you couldn't write it off as quickly as you normally would.

But tonight it seemed your luck had run out. You sat on your bed with your sketch book in hand just doodling strange squiggles till your eyes were so tired they couldn't focus. Putting the book down to rest your eyes and crack your wrist, you sigh not feeling tired at all. The thought of a hike isn't really appealing right now, plus if you made a run into the mini mart you'd probably see either Ronnie or even Tim working behind the counter, that thought set your ears a flame. While the night life in Kepler was decent especially for a Friday night in summer, you just felt the need to be alone.

A drive was the best answer you had. You'd just choose a random lane on the interstate and take a random exit till you found a diner or something, order a tea and a slice of pie. Like you were a background character in someone else's story longingly staring out the window as your dreams slowly slipped through your fingers in this cold cruel world. Ok, you'd been joking about that because you saw a TikTok saying that, but your melodramatic ass actually thinks that sounds fun.

Throwing on some jeans and a flannel over you muscle tee, you were out the door. When you were checking the lock you'd heard rustling coming from around the house where your bins were. Worse case it's a stalker, best case just some raccoons. Either way you decided to calmly but briskly walk to your car, locking the doors immediately. Once in you drove around the side of your house, luckily, you assume, you spot the chonkiest raccoon you've ever seen digging through the bins. His tiny little person hands drawing an awww from you even though his demonic gleaming eyes should send a chill down your spine.

Hissing at the car Chonk returns to dig through your garbage. Weird how he only comes on your pizza weeks. Probably has a thing for Leo's homemade pizzas. You sure as hell do, as much as you love it you do save a slice for this little guy. You haven't put it out yet though, eh you'll do it tomorrow.

Having solved that mystery you sit in your car and link up your phone so you can have your driving playlist. It's mainly Folk Punk and Sea Shanties and while most might say it's a weird combination you say it's the same genre just different fonts. You could drive hundreds of miles into the middle of no where listening to this playlist and you'd be just fine...maybe have an emotional break down or two but expressing your emotions is suppose to be good for you. Mouthing along to Jim Bogart as it comes through the stereo you set off on your little excursion.

Just like when you have the urge to hike at night the urge to drive is nearly one in the same. Momentum taking you forward and not looking back as you do, needing to just go forward with no real destination in mind. Tonight however would be a little different you'd stop at the first diner you see that's out of Kepler bounds. Or turn right back around at one in case you hadn't found anything. There've been times that you kept driving straight through morning and didn't know where the hell you ended up. Not to mention you rarely remember the ways to get back after going for so long, and gps can only get you so far in some of the towns that also border the Monongahela Forest. You'd just have to rely on dumb luck tonight.

Unlike hiking, which gives you a burst of adrenaline as you push your body to its limits to move as far as you can and as much as you can. Driving gives a much more relaxed feeling, it's a feeling a weightlessness that gets lighter and lighter the further you get from home. Some may describe that feeling as a wanderlust or nomadic calling, but you've never cared for either of those things. You've only ever wanted to stay in one place for as long as you could remember. Moving around so much in your youth really messed you up, and you promised yourself this would be the last time you uprooted your life. And you've really come to love Kepler in these past few months. You can't imagine how you'll feel next year after getting to know the community more, but so far it's been really compassionate and understanding, a few rocky spots here and there but nothing like your hometown.

Without realizing it you've picked up your speed, you're doing 75 in a 55 zone. Even with no other vehicles around you slow down to just above the speed limit. While there might not be any cops around looking for easy tickets you don't want to risk dissociating at 75MPH or more. That could only end horribly. Though dissociating behind the wheel at all would be horrible. In the middle of shaking yourself from these thoughts you catch sight of an exit sign, which holds the logo for Denny's on it, and the exit is coming up in five miles. Switching lanes you cross over and get ready to hop off on the next exit.

You're pretty sure the only pie Denny's has is the dry apple with a scoop of ice cream. That isn't very appetizing to you, but then again you aren't really a fan of pie, a fact you seemed to gloss over when you made the decision to drive out here this late at night. Not too bothered by the fact, you remember Denny's has a salted caramel and banana pancake which should work in place of pie.

Pulling into the parking lot there are only three other cars, peering into the diner you don't really see anyone so the cars must belong to the skeleton night crew. Entering the Denny's you see there actually is one other patron, you only see the back of his head as he makes no move to look at the new arrival.

“Hun, seat yourself, I'll be out in a bit.” is the motherly voice that rings out from the kitchen, truly something you've only experienced in the south. Walking into a diner in the dead of night and being treated like a daytime regular.

Seating yourself near the TV mounted to the wall you let the sounds of the soap opera playing drown out any buzzing you feel in your head. The waitress is out within minutes and though she startles at your masked face she regains her composure very quickly.

“I'd like the salted caramel pancakes if it's alright.” you say declining the offered menu.

“Just the pancakes?”

“Ah, yes please. And water's fine too.” it really pays to know the menu prior to coming in. Gives you ample time to run scripts over in your head.

Viv, the name on her name tag, nods and gives you a smile as she spins right round to the kitchen. Probably happy she won't have to run out so many times for just one order or maybe to spend time with the cooks in the back. You remember working food service sucked but the line cooks made it so much better at the end of the day. Even if they said you were too quiet and called you 'mouse'.

It might not have been exactly what you set out to do but this little midnight self date was really nice, you should do this more often.

Pancakes finished and mask back on you waited for Viv to bring out your check, then you notice the other patron also making his moves to leave. You're sat facing the door so when he turns and comes closer dread fills your veins like burning cold dry ice. It's David, a local from Kepler you briefly met when you first moved. He gave you really bad vibes and over all was just a very skeevy dude.

What made you feel worse about him was when he left town to “help his sister” right after Bambi disappeared. Those in your circle told you she always talked about leaving Kepler one day but you trusted your gut in saying she didn't leave by her own choice. It got made for her, and David leaving just furthered your theory. You look away hoping he hadn't noticed you but unfortunately you could hear his footsteps falter and then pick back up by passing the door completely.

“Hey...YN, right?” fuck he remembers you, alarm bells are ringing at this fact. Why would he remember someone he briefly met months ago?

“It really is you, still as quiet as I remember.” what did he mean the two of you only met a handful of times and that had been because of your mutual friendship with Bambi.

Where is Viv with the check? You'd really like if she saved you from this painful situation right now. But you aren't sure what's worse having to sit here and listen to David tell you everything he's been up to these past few months, like you even care. Or the thought of leaving with David having him follow you and maybe doing whatever he did to Bambi to you.

“Yea so my sister's better now, I should be seeing you around soon. We should catch up maybe do Saturday Night Dead. Does the Crypt still do that?” great a fucking rhetorical question, he knows the Cryptonomica still does it's weekly movie nights, it's only been two months he's been gone. Not to mention it's a big hit and a huge source of revenue for the shop.

You haven't said anything this whole time, fuck being polite to a potential killer, and fuck being polite to this creep. He's just been talking nearly nonstop for the last few minutes. He must really love the sound of his own voice or thinks he's the most charming person to ever grace the Earth with his presence. Since he's not really caring that you aren't proving to be a stimulating partner in this conversation. He really does love hearing himself talk. By the time he's said his own goodbyes Viv finally makes it out from the back.

She apologizes for the wait, had to go on her break sometime you supposed. You take your time finding your wallet, it's in your back pocket but you wanted to stall for time since you could still see David's car out there, you were also keeping an eye on your own car. Only relaxing when you saw him pull off from the corner of your eye. Oh look you've “found” your wallet, handing Viv your credit card you just want to get out of here quickly now.

You pay and leave a nice tip for Viv, while she didn't save you from that creep it's not like she could've known. You sit in your car for a moment or two just breathing in and out in the glow of the diner lights. Almost meditating before you begin your long drive back to Kepler with all these thoughts of David, Bambi's disappearance, and how it can't be coincidence that David is coming back at the same time that you have a break in. Could you be his next target? Were you just over thinking things? Just blaming this poor guy because you didn't like him? But you've always been intuitive and bad vibes aren't something to ignore. David appearing now meant something.

Just that thought alone put you on edge as your skin begins to crawl. With a few calming breaths you go to start the car and sync your radio when you notice the glow of the lights changed from the slight yellow to a sterile blueish white. Looking up where the diner should be you see the mini mart back at Kepler...how on earth did you get here? You didn't drive! You couldn't have dissociated while driving, you never even turned the car on and you can barely take a hike dissociating let alone do something as complex as drive a car.

It happens before you can register it, on shaky legs that move on their own you are passing the threshold of the convenience store and catching the tail end of a conversation.

“ppened to not feeding into delus...” the voice cuts off as the door shuts behind you. You know that voice why is it so hard to focus?

Something warm brushes your hand and you see someone in front of you. Who is that? You can't see their face, they've got a mask covering their face. Like you but that person is not you. You might know them...Tobais?

“Yea? You good there?” confusion, you blink hard and see you are standing in the mini mart now, Connor standing under your hand, Toby hovering close by and both Brian and Tim watch with unease over by the register.

“...I don't know how I...how I got here.” you register movement in the background but not consciously.

It's the shifting of Brian's head as he looks out the front windows and spots your Kia.

“You drove.” shaking your head, “Maybe...I don't...I dissociated?” in your confusion you can register Toby stiffen in front of you.

Fear, fear, uneasy, breath....are you breathing? Your head's so jumbled right now.

You scan the shop trying to look for answers that may help you but you find none. The more confused you get the more worked up you get, chest rising and falling rapidly. You take a step back or try to and end up falling on your butt. It's starting to get hard to breathe with your throat constricting, you bring a hand up to your larynx.

“..re.....have..attack......”

“could be o...me..”

“.....pressure...”

Is all you can make out with your fuzzy consciousness before a heavy pressure is piling on your chest and knocking you fully on your back. The pressure is actually pretty lifting as contradictory as it may seem. Instead of restricting your breathing more it seems to be kick starting your lungs to exhale and inhale. With oxygen coming back into your body you can feel your toes and the tingle behind them. You can feel your fingers and the fur under them. Fur?

Taking in a big breath you move your head and come face to muzzle with Connor. You give a nod of recognition to the dog before lying flat again and staring up at the ceiling. After about ten minutes you're thinking more clearly than before, which isn't saying much.

“Thanks.” you aren't sure who it's directed at but you still mean it.

It's silent until Toby breaks it, “I'm taking you home.”

“Car.” it's all you can manage to say but the message though distorted got through.

“I'll drive it, Brian follow behind.” there is no room for arguing, driving under any influence must be a touchy subject for Toby. Or maybe you're really fucked up right now and just can't comprehend how bad.

You use Connor to get up, he seems ready and no one else makes a move to you. Toby pushes past and holds the door open as Connor guides you, still holding onto his vest with one hand, and Brian murmurs something to Tim before following you three.

Outside Toby already has your keys in his hand, when did he get those? Did you give them to him? Your hand is risen, you must of...how on earth did you even drive like this. Had you really driven? There's a lump in your throat again and you're breathing's gone shaky, god you hope you didn't hurt anyone. You must have been zoning out for too long, not only is Connor pushing your legs but Toby has a grasp on your forearm coaxing you forward.

His grip isn't suffocating, honestly even seeing it there you still don't feel it. Maybe it's because you're so numb, or maybe it's because he's genuinely helping you but you can't feel the pain that usually comes with being touched. The sharp jab that feels like you've been struck with a fire poker where ever someone laid their hands on you. After he's pushed you into the backseat, more like nudged you, even making sure you didn't bump your head, he buckles you in then snaps and Connor jumps into the car and lays across your lap.

You're shaking, actually trembling as you look at Toby. What's going on? Why can't you figure out what's happening? The brunette doesn't say a thing as he gets into the driver's seat and buckles in to drive you home. That's strange you think, how does he know where to go? You told him right, just follow the road...or maybe he guessed from the other day. What happened to you? Why the mini mart? You were at Denny's.

“This town doesn't have a Denny's.” did you say that out loud?

“I...I went for a drive, a town over...up...no.. north I think...” you start blinking barely able to keep your eyes open before your eyes lock shut. It's sending you over the edge even more in your confusion.

“Hey, hey just focus on the Denny's. What'd you do once you got there?” is he trying to distract you? Calm you down? Or is he trying to piece together what happened like you are? You can remember Denny's just fine, the dull yellow glow of the inside the skeleton crew murmuring in the back, the pancakes you had, and the “conversation” with David. Did David do this, had he put something in your water glass? Did you even touch your water glass after he left? Breathe. You need to breathe. Toby's waiting.

“Pancakes...I had pancakes. Then that creep came over...and he started talking. Didn't like. We aren't friends, I don't know him. I don't understand why he'd talk to me. Didn't like. Didn't like.” finger back to pressing down on your larynx and the weight of Connor preventing your legs from striking out at the seat in front of you.

“Wait, were you drugged?” Eyes flash to the rear view to lock with your own teary stare.

“No, maybe...I don't think so.” you barely feel the pain in your throat right now, this is all so overwhelming. “He left, I...I watched him drive off before getting in my car... I had an episode while the car was off then..” then you were at the mini mart. You never touched the ignition.

“I didn't drive, I never started the car. Didn't, didn't, didn't” Your attack is probably stressing even Connor out now, but this is all so confusing.

You're so focused on the fuzzy events you don't notice Toby bristle. Or how he grips the steering wheel tighter until his knuckles grow white despite his already translucent skin. He might not be able to feel or see it in the mirror through his mask but he's probably gnawing off more of his face. He'd deal with it after he dealt with you.

You've made it to your house and he's waiting for the headlights from Brian. When he sees them in the rear view he gets out but not before telling you, or maybe Connor, to stay put.

It's a few long moments before he comes back. But in the silence and darkness of your car, growing colder by the moment, you start to ground yourself. You aren't calm by any means and you're still very unfocused. But you aren't crying as the numbness overtakes you, you don't even jump when the door beside you opens. With a snap Connor is out of the car and soon you're being pulled from the car, that same weightless touch gripping your forearm. Toby guides you into your own home, and walks towards the hallway looking into the bathroom, the only other door, before finding your room.

Seemingly understanding your catatonic state he sits you on the bed and gives some order to Connor before he leaves the room. And you just sit on the bed staring into dead air as a silent guard sits in wait. You aren't sure what he's waiting for or why he's still there but the numbness has taken over too much and you can't find it in you to give a single fuck.

#ticci tobyx reader #ticci toby #ticcitoby #reader insert #readerinsert #creepypasta fanfic #masky #masky x hoodie #masky x reader #hoodie #hoodie x reader #timothy wright #timothy wright x reader #brian thomas #brian thomas x reader #timothy wright x brian thomas #A cure for insomnia

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rushingheadlong · 3 years

Photo

POP IN THE SUPERMARKET

Conveyer rock - is it all a hype? Colin Irwin looks at pre-packed pop and talks to the men behind new bands Queen (left) and Merlin

Hype. An ugly, unpleasant word frequently recurring in rock circles.

Up in the boardroom of a vast record company the fat cigar brigade are scratching heads. Binn and Batman have come up with another surefire hit and they want somebody fresh to market it. They ponder a few names and finally decide on one with slight but clear sexual connotations - suggestively camp.

Name settled, they work on the people who will be in this new band. They might be able to find a ready-made group to fit the bill but better to mould their own. There's a singer who has been around for a few years.

He's not great but he knows how to throw himself around a stage, has a hairy chest and can hit the high notes. Give him a new name and he'll do. Somebody knows a lead guitarist who can play a bit and looks good. They can advertise for the others.

They'll work out a sensational stage act, rig them up in some flash gear, buy them the best equipment and arrange a string of appearances in some influential venues. Plunge a few thousand quid in launching them with advertising and posters and "They'll be the biggest thing since sliced bread," chief fat cigar tells his underlings.

Session musicians are employed to record the single and being a Binn and Batman special the radio stations label it "chart bound" and play it twenty five times a day. Seeing the glossy photos in the bop mags the kids gather up their pennies and buy it.

VOILA, stars are born - or manufactured. An extreme form of hype.

There's also a cliché commonly used in the business about people who have been around for many years and finally make it. It's called talent-will-out. An idealist phrase but there is still a popular belief that if a band is truly talented enough it will win through in the end.

Yet even the greatest band in the world need a bit of pushing in the first place. When a record becomes a hit it's not always that easy to distinguish between hype and talent-will-out.

If a record company spends astronomical sums of money promoting a band, is it hype? Or is it a legitimate and necessary weapon in the music business? The argument is that the BBC's ever-tightening playlist and the effects on the industry of the three-day week have made it harder than ever for a new group to make it - talent or no. Without a big money machine behind it there isn't a hope.

The situation is illustrated by two energetic new bands, who both look like breaking.

Big money has been spent on Queen and Merlin, who have had new singles released during the last month.

Queen's record, "Seven Seas Of Rhye," is already moving swiftly up the chart, while Merlin's "Let Me Put My Spell On You," is doing well enough to suggest it might follow suit.

There is no suggestion that either band is a manufactured or manipulated product in the sense of the Monkees. They play the music on their own records entirely themselves and they are both hard at work on the road.

Yet the question arises as to whether they would be doing quite so well without the resources of big companies behind them.

In the case of Queen it's Trident Audio Productions and EMI and for Merlin it's Cookaway Productions and CBS.

The one common factor is that money and backing has been provided because the companies have a solid, unshakeable belief in the artists they are promoting. They are indignant about any suggestion of a put-on or that there has been any attempt to con the public.

Listen to Merlin's producer Roger Greenaway for half-an-hour and there is no doubting his faith in their ability. "They are going to break, I know they are. I'm convinced the record will be a hit."

Nobody's saying exactly how much it has cost to launch either band. "Over a period of months between £5,000 and £10,000" has been spent on marketing Queen by EMI while the figure for Merlin is even vaguer. "A bit, but not a vast amount. Not a fortune by any means."

"Seven Seas Of Rhye" is Queen's second single and was recorded as part of the album "Queen 2" which has just been released. Things started to move for them about a year ago when they recorded their first album for Trident, who have a distribution contract with EMI.

An advance was paid to them to help with the immediate costs of putting them on the road.

Review copies of the album - about 400 of them - were sent out to everyone who might conceivably have any influence on the record buying public, from discos to the national press. Copies were personally distributed to radio and TV producers and extensive advertising space was bought in the trade papers.

The launch for Queen was more concentrated than most artist are entitled to expect.

Trident were completely behind them from the start and found them their American producer Jack Nelson. EMI promotions men Ronnie Fowler and John Bagnall decided they had a product with an exceptional chance of success and they went all out to exploit it to the full.

Says Fowler: "Every record we release we work to a pattern of promotion. When I went round with the album it was normal procedure. It becomes un-normal when people start phoning you - that's when you put more effort into it."

Bagnall adds: "It became obvious after a week or so that it wasn't standard promotion that was necessary. We did a more complete promotion job than usual on Queen because we thought they were going to make it.

"They're all good-looking guys and I did a round of teeny papers and all the girls in the office swooned over them. Brian, the lead guitarist, had made his own guitar and a couple of the nationals picked up on that. It was good, gossipy stuff."

Queen's publicity machine was working from all angles because they were also getting external promotion from Tony Brainsby's promotion office.

He had been involved with them from the time they had been trying to get record producers interested. The intensity of it all paid off when they were invited to do a spot on the Old Grey Whistle Test. Radio Luxembourg latched upon the single "Keep Yourself Alive" and played it regularly.

Their first tour, supporting Mott the Hoople, got the full works. Local press was saturated with releases about this new band which was shortly coming to their town, elaborate displays were arranged at the front of the house on the night of the concert, local disc-jockeys were informed, and window displays were made in about 200 local record shops.

"Trident and EMI committed themselves right from the start to this band, to make sure they had a PA which was better than other bands had and to make sure they had the right clothes. Some of their outfits cost £150 each," said Bagnall. "Spending money on a band isn't hype. It wasn't being flash or extravagant for the sake of building an image. It was making sure that everything else was as good as their music."

Not so far removed from the attitude towards Merlin, although it has been on a smaller scale in this case.

The first Merlin tour, still underway, is rigorous. They are playing ballrooms and colleges all over the country on a lengthy round.

An ambitious project for a new, unknown band, but it has already been successful in that it has launched them as a name people now know. A full-page advertisement was bought in the MM. That's the sort of treatment you might get if you're Bowie, or Ferry, or even Mick Ronson. But Merlin?

They have only been in existence in their present form since last May.

They emerged as a result of discussions between Alan Love and Derek Chick about the possibility of forming a band with definite commercial appeal and a glamorous stage act. The idea reached fruition via a band called Madrigal, who had for some time been working the same circuit as Mud before "Crazy" broke for them.

Madrigal disbanded but reformed with the same drummer and bass player, and Love as singer and Chick as manager. A couple more young musicians were found to join them and Chick started the usual hustling to get them going.

In due course they came to the attention of Cookaway, and Roger Greenaway was hastily summoned to take a look at them. He had already seen Madrigal and when he saw the new model he immediately saw a big future for them.

Greenaway says: "I'd been looking for a group of this type for three years - a young under-20s group who can present a good act. There's a lot more showmanship attached to bands now. I wanted an act with a slightly different approach. I was in New York producing the Drifters and I came back especially to hear them."

He quickly took them into a studio to see how they reacted there and among the tracks they recorded was "Let Me Put My Spell On You" which had been written by Greenaway in collaboration with Tony Macaulay. Like Queen, the best equipment and some fancy costumes were bought for them and the launching process was put into operation.

My own experience of the Merlin project was a couple of weeks ago at Reading Top Rank - a bizarre mixture of precocious boppers, ageing teds, and stern-looking heavies.

Posters and pictures of the group were plastered all over the place and by the time they eventually appeared late in the evening you had been informed quite thoroughly that Merlin had made a record called "Let Me Put My Spell On You."

Greenaway says of Love: "He's got star quality and he's a great charmer. The guitar player Jamie Moses has got a terrific potential too. I've worked with Jimmy Page and John Paul Jones but for me this guy at 18 is a better player than Jimmy Page was at the same age. He's the sort of player guys can follow - like Jet Harris - he had an incredible following with the guys."

He likens the Merlin launch to a military operation. The career of the group has been minutely planned since October. Accepting that it is almost impossible to get airplay for a new band on the BBC they decided the best way to break them was through a solid mass of live dates.

The dates were booked, once again the best equipment, including a light show, was bought for them, and distinctive stage costumes especially designed.

"By the time the tour has ended they will be a really tight band. We are getting support in the regions and you can break a record if you can get regional radio stations and disco plays. I believe this record is a hit and the signs are there. This is a ten-year job as far as I'm concerned."

Not that big money backing is any guarantee of success.

One of the biggest projects of this type was the launching of young Darren Burn as Britain's answer to Donny Osmond. To their eternal credit the record-buying public didn't apparently want an answer to Mr Osmond and the campaign failed.

The pop supermarket is not a new trend. The attractively packaged mass-produced record has been a part of the industry for a long time. The early releases of Love Affair, White Plains and Edison Lighthouse for example spring to mind.

The whole thing is justified for the makers by the fact that they still become hits, thus proving there is a demand for made-to-order records. If the public is willing - or gullible enough - to pay 50p for music created in the boardroom. Well it must be OK.

The Merlin single is blatantly, unashamedly aimed at being a big hit - that seems to have been the one criterion in making it. It has all the ingredients and as the whole thing has been done with concentrated professionalism it will probably be a hit.

Back to Roger Greenaway: "I don't want to present this as a Monkees type of image. It's not a manufactured group in any way - these guys have all been in other bands.

"What Merlin are about is success - reaching people. It's so wrong for opposing people to criticise. If Chinn and Chapman go out to reach a particular market at the thing they do best, and they reach them, then they're doing their job. They've filled a gap.

"When this record happens it'll be called hype but we haven't hyped anybody. Not a vast amount of money has been spent on them. It would be silly to have a tour like this without some sort of advertising. All the money that has been spent on them so far has been towards getting them on the road.

"It's expensive but it's minimal if you think of it as a along term thing."

It may be unfair to associate Queen with the pop supermarket. The group themselves were apprehensive about appearing on Top Of The Pops and the prospect of a hit record.

They have always regarded themselves as an album band and were concerned about being connected with the chart groups. The fact remains that they have been on the receiving end of a giant campaign to create a best-selling single and album.

The first album had sold far better than they had anticipated and there was great excitement around Trident and EMI as the second one was being made. Manager Jack Nelson came in virtually every day to play new tracks as they were completed and many discussions followed on which one should be released as a single.

A special meeting was held between Bagnall, Fowler, marketing manager Paul Watts and a few others to discuss the approach to the release of "Queen 2."

"We talked about the possibility of boxing the album, and other various publicity and posters needed to produce an album we were convinced was going to be one of the biggest of the year. We set a high target for it. 'Seven Seas' isn't a housewives' record so with the daily shows like Edmonds, Blackburn and Hamilton, there's no chance of getting it played, we knew that from the start. But the weekend shows - Rosko, Henry, and D.L.T. - they all flipped over it. I took the records round personally because I felt so strongly about it."

The prime plug, however, is Top Of The Pops. If a record gets exposure on that there is a more than even chance that it will become a hit. He played it to the show's Robin Nash and a couple of days later Nash phoned him and asked him where Queen were. Later he rang back and invited Queen to do a session.

The band weren't too sure whether they wanted to do it but eventually agreed although even then they didn't know until the last minute whether it would be used because they were half expecting a David Bowie film to arrive and take it's place. But in the end Queen were shown and "Seven Seas Of Rhye" moved dramatically from there.

"A lot of people have invested an awful lot of time and money in this band but not as a hype," says Bagnall. "The only truth in the music business is that if a band isn't good, no amount of money will get them to make it."

Greenaway may be right that Merlin are one of the most exciting bands to merge since the Beatles. Fowler might be right that Queen are one of the best since the Who. But big business still remains one of the sadder aspects of the music industry today.

----------

Huge thanks to the anon who brought this to my attention, since I’ve been looking for a copy of this article for ages now!

Credit for the original scans goes to @Chrised90751298 over on twitter, though I stitched it back together into a single image for ease of posting over there. Open the image in a new tab to see the full-size version!

#queen band #queen #queenband #merlin band #long post //#text

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bangtanbetchfics · 3 years

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friction | iii - knj (m)

genre: office au, romance, smut rating: explicit // 18+ pairing: kim namjoon x reader word count: 4.5k suggested listening: better - boa | up no more - twice | temptations - boa | mmmh - KAI | playlist warnings: explicit language, explicit/casual sex, masturbation, enemies to lovers, light bondage, light dom/sub, sex toys summary: your pesky and overworked assistants meddle in your relationship with your sexy rival -- kim namjoon -- and find themselves caught in the crosshairs of love and all-out war. notes: this is one of my favorite pieces i've written! i hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it. content is too hot to put above the fold, so go ahead & dive in. ;) finale & last chapter coming next week. encouragement favs & kudos help! :') navigation: ch. i | ch. ii | ch. iii | finale | m.list | ao3

“Namjoon...what kind of game are we playing?”

You smile through the question -- because no, it couldn’t be true that Namjoon tied you to his bed and left you there. The vibrator in your underwear suddenly changes speeds, and your mind is immediately drawn away from the thought.

“N-Namjoon?”

Your nipples stand up from the stimulation below, and your wrists twiddle around in your restraints. Your toes press into the bed and you gasp as the vibration grows a tick more intense.

You groan at the fact that you’re unable to control your pleasure, and you wriggle around the mattress trying to find some form of release.

The vibrator slows down for the first time and you whine as you toss your head side-to-side out of frustration.

Your eyes are shrouded in black -- still no sense of time or space around you. Your interview with Yoongi was definitely today, and you gasp as you recall.

Suddenly, it dawns on you that Namjoon removed your smartwatch before he tied your wrists to the bedpost.

“Okay Google, f-fuck,” You groan, biting your lip.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t quite get that.” Your watch responds, and you continue to whine and tug at your restraints -- nearing the peak of your release.

“Okay Google, what time is the event: my interview with Yoongi?” You plead, gritting the question through your teeth.

“The event: your interview with Yoongi was at nine A.M.”

“What time is it now?” You ask, feeling your underwear start to dampen.

“It’s nine forty-five A.M. Is there anything else I can help you with?” Google inquires. You whine before the watch shuts back off from a lack of response.

Just as you’re at the tip of release, the vibrator cycles through a variety of speeds repeatedly, and you feel a gloss of tears form over your eyes.

Your desire for relief causes you to hump the air, but you yelp when the vibrator kicks to top speed -- erupting your body into a bright, white heat.

The sounds of your frantic breaths start to fill your skull -- your throat running dry from your moans. The vibrator was still going, and you whine, knowing that it meant you were at rock bottom again before you could reach another release.

Despite this, your senses now seemed to be heightened -- your body aware of every neuron within and around it. You could now sense the earthy breeze coming in through the bedroom’s slightly ajar balcony door; your body slick from the heat you formed working your way up to an orgasmic release.

You could feel sweat droplets trickle down your skin -- and you notice the remnants of Namjoon’s cologne in the space.

After a moment you realize Namjoon really is gone.

The smell of his cologne floating in the air was always the last step in his routine before he left for work.

✹✹✹

Namjoon waits outside of Yoongi’s office, looking down and studying his phone.

The screen has a choice of three buttons to press: low, medium and high -- and he toggles between the three quickly. He looks up and sees Yoongi approaching him, and Namjoon’s fingers hesitate over a final button. His thumb settles on high and he presses it, his lips curling into a slight smirk.

“I’m ready. You comin’ in?” Yoongi asks, hanging out from his glass doorframe.

“Yeah, totally. I’m all set.” Namjoon replies, clicking his phone off and slipping the device into the front pocket of his slacks. He grabs his leather portfolio and stands up, making his way into Yoongi’s office.

Namjoon sits down and crosses one leg over another, looking over a few notes in his portfolio.

“So, before we get started...do you know where your Vegas partner in crime is? Haven’t heard from her today. It’s so unlike her.” Yoongi states, looking at his watch.

“She was actually supposed to be my first CEO interview this morning.” He mentions, sucking his teeth in disappointment.

“That is strange. I’m not sure. She just might be tied up with something at the moment, I suppose?” Namjoon shrugs as he responds before looking up at Yoongi.

“Maybe...” Yoongi’s eyes drift into his head to think, but he shakes his head and focuses back on Namjoon.

✹✹✹

Your ears perk up as you hear footsteps in the hall and you start to gently tug at your silky binds.

“Namjoon...?” You inquire in a low, scratchy voice -- nearly breathless. You feel his weight compress the bed and you press your head back into the pillow.

Another wave of warmth starts to fill your body as his finger traces a straight line from the top of your abdomen to your bellybutton. You quickly heave as you try to anticipate where his fingers will land, and you moan as he reaches into your underwear.

“You’re soaked,” Namjoon comments, pushing the vibrator closer to your clit, causing you to arch your back off the bed.

“Let me g-“ Before you’re able to protest, you let out a pleasurable cry as the speed increases on the vibrator. You bite your lip as more moans try to escape your lips.

The sensations coursing through your body send you into an elusive wave of pleasure that washes over you for the sixth time that afternoon. You hum before your body jerks up furiously from the overstimulation and ends in a tremble.

After your comedown you’re only able to lay still as your chest heaves, and Namjoon slips the silk ties from your wrists.

You groan at the relief, your wrists tender from the restraints. You feel his lips tenderly kiss and soothe your wrists, and you use your now-free hands to lead him down toward your lips.

You kiss him passionately, his tongue slipping into your mouth.

You feel him remove his wool coat and toss it to the ground, the warmth of his body enveloping you as he climbs on top of you.

“Ow-” He suddenly feels a hard nip at his lip and he looks down at you, watching you remove your blindfold.

“Are you happy you made me miss my interview?” You snap as you glare up at him, shoving his chest away from you. You reach into your underwear and slam the vibrator onto the night table.

“Classic asshole move,” You grumble, reaching to the floor and slipping your body into your skirt.

“Fuck, baby. Please,” Namjoon dabs at his lip with his finger, looking at the slight blood on his fingertip.

You throw your suit jacket on followed by your coat and heels as he sits up on the edge of the bed. He tries to grab your wrist, but you whip around to look at him.

“You used me. You’re insane. Let me go.” You grit through your teeth.

Namjoon looks at you in shock, his eyes wide.

“You made me miss something I’ve been working for my entire life. Endless nights -- alone to get where I am. I can’t believe I let a few nights with you rob me of that.” You scoff as you think about it, loosening your wrist from his grip.

“God. Don’t speak to me ever again.” You say firmly before you leave the room. He reaches his hand out in vain behind you, watching you walk away.

“You know what? I’m the insane one...” You mumble to yourself, your heels clicking across the wood floor as you head toward the front door.

✹✹✹

The next night, your eyes focus on your computer screen -- the familiar blue light illuminating your tired eyes. You couldn’t move or blink, feeling imprisoned by the thoughts from the copious amount of interactions for the last nine hours.

Taehyung’s typing outside of your door finally comes into focus, and you sigh -- inhaling first, and then blowing out air from your mouth to release some of the tension from the day.

You throw your head back in your chair and it leans back halfway, a slight release occurring in your tight muscles.

You lick your lips and it brings the slightest twinge of arousal to the top of your thoughts.

Normally, Namjoon’s lips would be buried between your thighs right now -- but not tonight. If you couldn’t have Namjoon by night, it was before work or for a quick afternoon romp. That of course wasn’t the case anymore, and you sigh.

You bite your lip to distract yourself from the thought, and Taehyung raps on the glass of your door.

“Excuse me...sorry to interrupt. Your meeting with Yoongi is in about five minutes, so you might want to head up.” Taehyung looks at you, and you can tell he’s forlorn at your situation.

“Great, thanks Tae.” You nod as you sit up, refusing to hold eye contact with him to avoid feeling any further regret than you already did.

You shut down your computer and gather your things, throwing your coat over your forearm.

“Have a good night.” You say quietly, and Taehyung waves at you as you slowly walk off, head hung low.

✹✹✹

As you wait for Yoongi to return, your eyes scan the glimmering cityscape. You look down and swallow, the appeal of this office -- this view -- not as glamorous as it seemed a few months ago.

“Sorry about that. Had to use the men’s room really quickly.” Yoongi mentions as he closes his door, and circles back around to his desk.

“Wanna tell me what happened?” He sits and stares at you as he awaits a response.

You twiddle with your fingers in your hands, a nail depressing into the flesh of your skin.

“I...” You bite your lip as you feel tears well into your eyes.

“It’s just so unlike you to throw an opportunity like this away.” Yoongi prods, and you look up at him.

“I know. I’m so ashamed.” You respond, your voice trembling.

Yoongi sighs in disappointment, his fingers drumming the table.

“I-I was hoping for another-“ You start, and Yoongi shakes his head.

“You know I can’t do that. Don’t put me in that position. There are so many qualified people applying for this role.” He says, shaking his head again. “You were my top choice and you just didn’t show up. That tells me that you’re just not ready to handle the pressures of this position -- that you’re not taking it seriously. You can never have an off day leading a company of this size and scale. Do you understand that?” He says firmly and you nod, swallowing your tears down your throat.

“No. I do understand, Sir. Thank you for your time.” You stand up and collect your things and bow deeply to him.

Yoongi lets out a deep sigh in disappointment as you walk out.

You take large strides as you make your way to the elevator bank.

As soon as you hear the ding of a car, silent, hot tears flow down your face and you sob.

✹✹✹

The next morning you head toward the kitchen in your office, the sound of your heels echoing throughout the silent hall.

You open a drawer and reach for a Keurig cup -- choosing an Irish coffee flavor. You purse your lips, figuring its the closest you’ll get to alcohol this early in the morning.

You press the cup into the coffee maker, and you hear the machine pierce the plastic container. You hear the coffee start to flow into the paper cup, and you make your way to look at the city from the floor-to-ceiling glass windows.

You hear another set of footsteps, and you turn around to see Jimin. You knew he was Namjoon’s assistant, but he seemed to dress sharply for his role despite that.

Jimin stops in his tracks as he notices you staring at him, and he approaches the other coffee maker cautiously.

“Uhm, good morning,” Jimin says, his voice rising at the end of his greeting. He pulls a cup from a stack, looking at you.

“You’re Namjoon’s assistant, right?” You ask, folding your arms across your chest.

Your eyes were somehow incredibly intimidating in the moment, and it causes Jimin to shrink in your presence.

“Can you deliver a message to your boss for me?” You ask, raising an eyebrow and grabbing your cup.

Jimin gives you a silent nod as he stands frozen in position.

“Tell your boss he’s a fucking asshole.” You say cooly, blowing the steam from your cup as you stomp off.

The air returns to Jimin’s lungs, and he sighs as he rests his hands on the cool counter.

✹✹✹

“Sir, I have a message for you,” Jimin says, rapping at Namjoon’s office door.

“Not now Jimin.” Namjoon says curtly, continuing to write on the piece of paper in front of him.

“It’s an important message. It cannot wait.” Jimin says firmly.

“Fine, go ahead.” Namjoon sighs, sitting back in his chair.

“The CMO asked me to let you know...” Namjoon perks up, his eyes growing wide. “She asked me to let you know...”

Namjoon’s eyes grow dark, his stare turning into a cold impatience.

“Just say it, Jimin.” Namjoon demands, tossing his gold pen onto the table.

“Uhm,” Jimin hesitates, but bites his lip once he sees the look on Namjoon’s face. “She said to tell you that...um, and I quote: you’re a fucking asshole.” Jimin cringes as he says it, running back to his seat.

Namjoon sighs and clenches his jaw before he runs his hands through his hair. He chuckles out of frustration as he leans back, looking around his office.

✹✹✹

Taehyung’s phone rings, and he immediately picks up the line.

“God Taehyungie, it’s really bad over here,” Jimin whispers at the other side of the line.

“No, I know. I had to stay until eight last night helping her. She seemed pretty upset.” Taehyung sighs.

“Same here. She told me to tell him that he was a fucking asshole,” Taehyung gasps on the other end. “Normally they’re together, but now they’re both pushing themselves into overdrive at the office instead.” Jimin groans.

One of Taehyung’s vacant phone lines starts to blink.

“Hold on a sec Jiminie,” Taehyung presses the line and he nods as he hears the voice on the other end.

“Okay, yes. 63rd floor. Sure.” He smiles a bit and a glimmer of hope swells in his heart.

“I have to go.” He tells Jimin, hanging up the phone.

“Uhm, miss. Looks like someone is really sorry,” Taehyung says, watching a delivery man hand you a bouquet.

The bouquet screams sorry, the vase filled to the brim with a dizzying array of roses, tulips, lilies and orchards.

You roll your eyes as you see a small card tucked into the flowers: From Namjoon, and set the glass vase on your desk. You toss the card into the trash before diving back into your work, but Taehyung holds his hand up.

The delivery man enters again, this time with two large, differing bouquets: one of one hundred decadent red roses -- the exact number of days you’d been together with Namjoon before you split.

Another bouquet arrives of one hundred pink, white and yellow roses, and you inhale the scent of the flowers as its set in front of you.

You’re unable to process the moment as the man brings in seven more bouquets -- your office filled to the brim with a floral aroma. You close your eyes and inhale the scent of the flowers once more, the look in your eyes forlorn.

Taehyung looks at you with a soft smile, but he watches you quickly come to -- returning yourself to a state of anger.

“The monthly board meeting is in about three minutes as well,” Taehyung’s voice registers in your head, and you look up at him and nod.

You tippytoe and step over the array of flowers lining the floor to leave your office -- making your way down the hall.

✹✹✹

You lean against a wall outside of the conference room, and you check your watch as you wait for people to arrive.

A man in a crisp grey and white checked suit walks down the hall. His black hair is slicked back over his head, and a small wisp of carefully placed hair sits over one of his eyes.

“Excuse me? Jackson?” You squeal, approaching the man.

Jackson turns his head your way and a smile envelops his face.

“My god, look at you?” You bite your lip, slicking your fingers over the fabric of his suit. “You’ve fucking made it to the big leagues, Wang.” You giggle, continuing to look him over.

“Look at you,” He throws the phrase back your way, his bright black eyes scanning your curves. He’d been after you for years and was fully basking in your attention.

Namjoon finally arrives, staring directly at you as he walks past the two of you. He watches people leave the room from the previous meeting, but his eyes dart back over to focus on you and Jackson.

Your giggles fill the hall as you and Jackson interact, and Namjoon feels jealously boil in his blood. After all, you were tied to his bed -- fully his, just a few weeks ago. You weren’t his anymore, but the sexy visions of all of the moments you shared were overtaking his thoughts: your silhouette in the shower, the water trickling from your body underneath the searing Vegas sun, the two of you hooking up repeatedly -- unable to get enough of each other.

The memories of your moans were tangible enough to feel on his lips, and he clenches his jaw as he watches the two of you.

Your eyes float over to Namjoon, and Jackson notices as he follows your eyes.

“Ah, trying to make him jealous?” Jackson smiles as you look at him quickly, and then back to Namjoon. “It can be our little secret.” He whispers, nudging you in the arm before you shake your head.

You glare at Namjoon and roll your eyes before you focus a smile back at Jackson. Jackson pats you on your lower back, lightly guiding you into the conference room.

✹✹✹

As you enter, you pick a seat near the front of the room, and you subtly watch Namjoon hesitate to pick a seat. He exhales from his nose before he gets the gusto to sit across the table from you. You glower at him, and he smirks, satisfied with himself.

“So, the agenda was established previous to this meeting. Let’s just hop right in.” Yoongi starts, flipping through a few papers before him.

“First thing’s first. As you all know, we’re looking to lock a new CEO by the end of the year. That’s going to be challenging with the holidays, but I promise you we’re close,” He slams his fist on the table.

“God dammit, the next person could very well be right here in this room.” He points around the room and smiles, looking everyone over as the room erupts in a light chuckle.

Namjoon leans back in his chair with an air of arrogance, his fingers drumming on the table.

You angrily squeeze the pen in your hand, and look up with a smile -- trying to seem indifferent, but it was hard to be at the moment; indifferent that you were too busy chasing love and lost the biggest opportunity of your lifetime.

Your eyes catch Namjoon’s drumming fingers and you glare at him.

“Now, moving into updates from our CTO,” Yoongi points at Namjoon and he nods in response.

“So, earlier this year I attended the TechX conference to represent the product...”

Halfway through Namjoon speaking, you find your thoughts drifting to what’s happening below you.

You catch yourself hanging onto Namjoon’s lips: his plushy bottom one, the thick Adam’s apple bobbing up and down his throat, the deep valleys of his voice making you wet.

You find that your eyes shoot up to meet his, and then move to a brow that raises on his forehead.

You clear your throat and try not to look at him, but at the papers in front of you instead. The bundle of nerves between your legs were betraying you in the current moment and you weren’t sure what to do to quench your thirst.

Your eyes float back up to Namjoon’s again, and this time you can’t help but lace them with lust. Your head falls into your hand as you watch him intently, tripping him up on his words.

After he finishes speaking you stare each other down, a storm swirling in both of your gazes. He swipes his tongue on the inside of his cheek as you stare each other down further, the tension tangible between the two of you.

“Lunch will be served momentarily. We’ll reconvene in ten minutes to finish up what’s left on the agenda.” Yoongi’s voice cuts through the taut revulsion that bounds the two of you.

You immediately stand and head toward the exit -- looking over your shoulder at Namjoon before you leave.

Namjoon stands, buttoning his suit jacket taut over his body.

Yoongi is about to call Namjoon over, but notices him follow you instead. Yoongi crosses his arms over his chest, and a series of thoughts finally click together in his head.

✹✹✹

You saunter down the hall and you give Namjoon a look before you enter a small phone room.

The door is frosted and there’s only enough room for a floating desk and chair, and you slide back on the desk.

You raise your brows as you hear the door click open, and your fingers clench the edges of the table as Namjoon enters the room and locks it.

Your eyes scan the breadth of his frame, and you watch him slowly approach you -- his body landing to tower over yours.

He tosses his leather portfolio onto the desk, and your heart starts to race as your lungs fill with the spicy, sinful scent of his cologne.

Namjoon’s thumb and forefinger align with the edge of your jaw, his fingers tensing around the bone as he tilts your head up to meet his. His lips hover over yours in a hot hesitation as he hones his eyes on your dark, unwavering gaze.

His nose grazes over your neck to inhale your scent, now laced with notes from the flowers in your office. His eyes laser in on your lips, and your glare at him intensifies.

“Did you get my flowers?” He asks, still looking down at you.

“No. Not a single one.” You answer curtly, your nostrils flaring as you clench your jaw.

Namjoon blows a hint of annoyance from his nose, your loathing gaze only growing more penetrating.

“Why’d you follow me?” You ask, your voice thick with desire as you look from his lips up to the smoking lust in his eyes.

“You really don’t know?” You’re nearly breathless as his lips draw closer. You try not to let it affect you, but your toes curl up in your heels — your nails sinking into the wood grooves of the desk.

“No, I don’t know,” You breathe in. “Tell me.” You say with a deep exhale, an achy desire coating your throat.

You heart is ready to burst how much you craved him in this moment -- but you refused to give into him first.

“I’m here because I saw you looking at me with those hungry eyes like the very first day I met you,” His voice is rich and velvety, sending chills down your frame.

His lips brush yours, and it makes your own lips vibrate with heat -- the sensation knotting your core.

“Yeah...and what about it?” You breathe out.

He hums before your lips crash together, the room nothing but feathery moans and sucking sounds.

You pull your lips from his, licking the notes of sugar from his morning coffee from your lips as you roll his tie around your wrist. He collapses down and his hands fall to the desk on either side of you.

“I saw you looking at Jackson and I. Were you jealous?” You tease breathily into his mouth, jerking him closer to you by his tie. His nose grazes yours and he smirks.

“No...because you still want me,” He responds, his hands in your hair as he moves in to slip his tongue in your mouth.

“No I, mmh-“ you protest as you come up for air before both of your lips come together again.

“If you wanted him, he’d be here with you right now.” You let out a moan into his mouth at how right he is, grabbing the lapels of his jacket as your tongues intertwine.

“I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me,” He whispers, his breath hot in your ear after he pulls his lips from yours.

“I don’t...this is just a one time thing,” You lie, your head falling back as he kisses your neck -- the stubble on his chin scraping your flesh. You let out light moans as he sucks your neck, and his hands move to squeeze your waist.

“Be quiet...do you want the entire office to know how much you want me?” He demands, your breaths shuddering.

Namjoon’s hands press into your lower back and it makes you stand up, his hands wandering to your ass. His lips and hands were like magma, leaving fire in its wake wherever it went.

His desire makes you moan, his tongue swiping under yours as your arms reach around his neck to massage his hair.

“Liar,” He whispers as he backs you up against the wall, his hands gliding over your ass and landing in a smack. You gasp, the tail end of it a whimper that he captures with his tongue.

“Hush.” Namjoon whispers in your ear before he grabs a handful of your ass and smacks it again. You mewl, your hands wandering his firm, broad chest.

“You’re making me so hard right now,” His voice vibrates in the shell of your ear and you gasp as your hand wanders to the warmth of his cock, feeling how hard he is in your palm.

“Stop talking, we have five minutes,” You say breathlessly, and he pins both of your wrists to the wall. He pulls your skirt up to your waist -- sliding his hand into your underwear.

He dips his finger inside of your warmth, and he drags your taste down his tongue.

“Mmm fuck, I could take you right now,” He breathes out.

“Right now?” You ask, breathless. “No...” You say as his lips envelop yours again and you pull away for air.

“I think I’d rather have you tie me up in your room again because you’re threatened by me.” You state, and it makes him growl as he dives back into an open-mouthed kiss.

“Fuck, I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” He moans into your ear as his fingers slip inside of you. You groan at how wet you are, and you can feel yourself drip down his fingers.

“How many times did you imagine this?” He whispers, and you clench around his fingers as a burning heat fills your cheeks.

Your arms tighten around his neck and your fingertips crinkle the fabric of his suit as you near your peak. His fingers drag against your cushiony g-spot, and it triggers your release. He seals his lips to yours to hold your moans, and he pulls you close to keep you upright.

He licks his fingers clean and you kiss him, tasting your essence on his lips.

After a moment you pull your lips from his and he grazes his nose across yours a few times to try and recapture your lips.

Your hand smooths from his arm up to his shoulder, and you trail kisses up his neck. You use your free hand to palm him, and you tug at his ear with your teeth before you speak.

“I hope the job was worth throwing all of this away,” You whisper, removing your hand from his bulge as Namjoon gasps.

Your hands move to snap your skirt back down your hips, and you pull your hair from its updo to cover the blooming love bites all over your neck. You smooth the lapels of his jacket back down before you look up and relish in the flabbergasted look on his face.

Namjoon runs his hands through his hair, his cock still rock hard as you leave the room.

“Fuck.” Namjoon grabs the portfolio from earlier on the desk, using it to cover himself as he exits the room.

✹✹✹

After you return to the conference room, you dig in your bag and pull out a compact. You bite your lip as you adjust your hair -- making sure no dark spots on your neck are visible.

You reapply your lip gloss, and Jackson kicks you underneath the table. He mouths “Did you...?” to you and you widen your eyes with an innocent look on your face. You steal a quick glance at Namjoon as he enters, looking down at the portfolio over his pants and back up to his eyes.

Namjoon sits, putting his elbow on the table. His fingers subtly meet his nose, and you watch him inhale the remnants of your sweet scent on his fingertips.

He tightens his jaw and you smirk, clamping your compact shut.

#btsbookclub #btssmutclub #namjoon smut #bts fanfic #namjoon imagine #bts smut #bangtanidx

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justice4harwin · 3 years

Text

Light’s Corruption-Chapter VII

Summary: With few friends at the Little Palace, Alina must work to win the favour of her fellow grisha and their commander, who makes her feel light headed every time she sees him.

After training in Os Alta for two years, the king grows tired of waiting and demands the Sun Summoner joins a western post near the Fjerdan border along with the rest of The Second Army to test her abilities.

Something happens. Suddenly, Alina wants blood to run down the rivers and those who stand in her and The Darkling’s way will be blinded by her light and swallowed by his shadows.

It won’t be pretty.

Pairing: The DarklingxAlina

Rating: 18+ (better safe than sorry, u know)

Anyone fancy a playlist?

As usual, the tags are in the comments; if you no longer want to be in the list or wanna be added, please don’t hesitate to let me know :)

Click here for chapter VI

Chapter 7: Within the Palace's Walls

Dear General Kirigan,

Dear General

Dear Kirigan

Dear Darkling

"Ugh!" Alina let her face drop on top of the paper, not caring if the ink got into her face, and groaned, loudly and at length. "Why?!" She asked into the nothingness of her room.

She had no reason to write to him. She knew he must've had frequent reports of the ongoings of the Little Palace, so she had no other excuse except to admit the truth, which was that she craved his attention, even if he was days away.

This was so pathetic of her; letting go of a life-long unrequited love just to fall into the arms of the first man who complimented her, even if she did feel a strange pull towards him.

What she needed was time for herself. Yes. She had finally said goodbye to Mal, falling for someone else so quickly would do her no good.

Oh, but Saints! The way in which he had kissed her, like he'd been waiting for centuries, like she was a treasure, like he truly wanted her. She had kissed people before, but never like that. She had enjoyed it, sure, but always stopped it before the clothes started to disappear. It usually bored people, but Alina didn't mind that much. It wasn't like when Genya was in the room while she bathed, helping her get to whenever she needed to be in time by pulling at the knots in her hair and handing her a towel. Genya was trustworthy, she was her friend and she had never given her one of those looks that had made her uncomfortable during her training at Poliznaya, nor made an unwanted comment or advance on her figure.

But The Darkling… That day, she had felt more than willing to let him have his way with her; nobody had set her body aflame the way The Darkling had done that afternoon a few weeks prior; she dreamt of it at night and woke up sweaty and hot, and it was a real effort to not daydream about it during her day.

General Imbecile Brute,

I write to you on this day to let you know of the first snow at the Little Palace. It makes quite the pretty paint...from the inside.

Also, I cannot stop thinking about you and your kiss, and I've been staring at the rose you gave me for such long amounts of time I fear my eyes will cross and I'll be stuck like that forever.

Please, tell me: do you feel the same? Mark 'yes' or 'no'.

Forever at your service,

Alina Starkov, Sun Summoner, Idiot.

Ps: You're not an imbecile, only a little rude; and you're not a brute, but some of your manners need polishing. Other than that, you're perfect.

Signed again,

Alina Starkov, she who lacks decency.

She looked at the letter, a low, prolonged, pitiful sound parting from her lips that turned into an animalistic groan. She grabbed the piece of paper, scrunched it into a small ball and threw it into her fireplace.

The snow covered the grounds of the Little Palace almost entirely, the lake would soon be completely frozen, and finalize the beautiful picture. Some Grisha were excited over the opportunity to skate. Alina had never done it, but Marie and Nadia promised to teach her.

From her horse, Alina moved uneasily. She still wasn't used to horse-riding, but Nina had invited her along with a few of her friends, who were all of different orders. It was a chance she wouldn't miss.

She tugged her kefta closer and held onto the reigns, advancing slowly along with the group, heading to the edges of the woods that surrounded the place.

A Fabrikator passed her a flask of kvas, and despite her dislike for the strong drink, Alina took it anyways and tried not to grimace as the liquid went down her throat.

If she were honest, she'd rather be inside the warm walls of her room in the Little Palace, chattering the afternoon away with Genya. She hadn't need to ask if the Tailor could join them at the stables; Alina was well aware of how little regard the other Grisha had for her -until they needed something-.

"I heard a few of you have been working on new keftas." she tried to make light conversation with the woman as she handed her her kvas back.

"Yes." she answered politely, "We're making a special fabric that should give us more freedom of movement during battle."

Alina rose her eyebrows. It wouldn't help her much if she didn't improve her fighting skills, but it was an interesting idea.

"How's it coming along?"

The woman tried to hide a grimace.

"It's complicated, but we're making some progress."

Alina smiled.

"Maybe you can tell me more about it during dinner." she suggested. "I, for once, would love a different type of trousers."

The woman smiled starkly, her blond hair getting on her face.

"They are rather stiff, aren't they?"

"I can barely flex my legs as it is."

The woman, whose name was Lada Alina remembered, agreed.

"I know. They're not suitable." she said in a strange tone, to which Alina gave her an odd, sideways look.

"Did you hear Zoya is back?" Fedyor interrupted, marching up to keep up with them.

Alina stared at him, groaned, and rolled her eyes.

"That's great." she said dryly.

Her absence was nice while it lasted.

"Maybe if I get under her skin and she attacks again, The General will send her off for a longer time. Or better yet, I could actually beat her."

Who was she kidding? Zoya was a formidable fighter, and Alina was just starting to win every now and then. Also, she suspected that Nina might have gone easy on her during their first sparring match a few weeks prior. She hadn't won against her ever since.

"Tell me about it." the woman in question said, rolling her eyes. "I don't understand her obsession with being on The General's inner circle."

"Says the one who is in the inner circle." Fedyor pointed out.

"Barely." Nina made a gesture with her hand, as if trying to rest importance to the matter. "Besides, it's not such a big deal. I don't know why everyone makes such a fuss about it."

"Well, the higher we are, the better we can protect other Grisha." Alina said, almost hesitantly. "I mean, if we have The General's ear, more ideas will flow about. I'm sure everyone has something to contribute to the cause."

"You don't need to worry about that, sun bean;" Nina smirked. "You're the Sun Summoner, it's likely he'll listen to you."

Alina's cheeks flushed as everyone in the group turned to stare at her.

"I think it's good to aim high;" Fedyor said, drifting the attention to himself, thanks the Saints. "As long as it's for the better of the Second Army."

Nina looked away and uttered something only Alina heard.

"Oh, yeah, betterment of forced servitude."

The Summoner stiffened on her saddle at the bitter words. Was Nina unhappy at the Little Palace? Why? She was one of the most powerful Grisha there; she lived in the most secured place in all Ravka, and her General held her in high regard.

A part of Alina wished she had never hidden her light. Maybe it would've been for the better to leave Keramzin, to leave Mal behind sooner.

It also made her think of someone who scarcely passed through her mind those days: her own mother.

She shook her head, ridding herself of such thoughts. She was thankful for the commodities and safe life she had at the Little Palace. Even if she was one of a kind, everyone else seemed to be adapting well to her, especially since she began to summon on her own and join in their little games by the lake.

She had been hesitant about it at first, but Genya insisted that going would be a great opportunity to both show her power and make allies.

"Besides, they won't believe you're a snob or a fraud if you show them a little." she had said, lazily lounging on a chair as they shared a nice tea one afternoon, while the queen took an especially long nap the very same day the Duke of Balakirev had arrived at court.

Lately, Alina felt more normal, and she was sure that her latest choices had a lot to do with it. From showcasing her powers, to sitting in different sections on different tables during meals and just talking normally about trivial things -even if those did exhaust her mind- and wearing an Etherealki kefta, she was more approachable, and the other Grisha seemed to slowly start to notice it too.

"It's not enough."

"We surely do deserve some more credit." she spoke, even if she didn't fully believe in the sentiment. The First Army was full of otkazat'sya, and they didn't have the advantages of bullet-proof clothing, private tents, furs for the winter and three decent meals per day.

It was all so difficult for Alina. She had once envied the advantages The Second Army possessed over The First, yet she couldn't deny there were other kinds of dangers for the Grisha, that not everything was perfect inside the walls of Os Alta.

Like the distrust of those who weren't like them, their fear, tamed only by their usefulness due only to the Black Heretic's greed.

All around her, her fellow Grisha nodded their agreements.

She wondered, briefly, what would Grisha life be like in Ravka if The Fold hadn't been created in the first place. What would happen if she ever managed to tear it down?

She didn't want to dwindle in those thoughts further.

With the Winter Fete approaching, everyone at the Little and Grand Palace seemed to buzz with all kinds of different energy. The servants were comprehensively nervous and stressed as they ran from one place to the other. Alina's fellow Grisha were either excited or indifferent, but none the less they all put the same amount of effort into practicing their yearly demonstration.

As for Alina herself, she had received the news that she was expected to showcase her power in front of the royal family and the other nobles of Ravka.

"The king wanted to throw a bigger party; invite diplomats from all continents and such, but General Kirigan insisted that it wasn't necessary yet." Genya said one afternoon, as Alina braided her hair.

She was seated very still, her eyes continuously darting from one side to the other as if trying to peek at her friend's work, concern etched on her face.

"He seems impatient." Alina commented, to which Genya huffed, accommodating her friend's new possessions on her vanity with a precision that seemed borderline obsessive.

"You have no idea. He can't wait to see the mighty Sun Summoner." she said, pouting and trying to imitate his deeper voice.

Alina frowned, said nothing, and continued braiding, her movements slowing but almost precise.

The Darkling

Miss Starkov,

Due to my sudden absence, I had no time to notify you that I shall oversee your training personally from now on.

Being far away, I do not wish for you to stall, so I leave you some instructions on what to practice and how, and a few reading recommendations fo-

He leaned back in his chair and sighed.

He was being a fool, and he hated it.

Writing to her with instructions on how to practice her summoning was a foolish idea. She was barely starting and needed overseeing, and the only one besides himself who could help her was his mother, who remained bitter at the woman. He really wanted to know what Alina had said to Baghra to make her so upset.

He almost smiled, feeling something wickedly, childishly happy in his chest at the possibilities.

Tossing the letter into the fire, he leaned back in his chair.

Teaching her through letters would only lead to disaster, but how else would he know about her? How else could he earn her trust while being so far away?

Pathetic.

"Moi Soverennyi." Ivan presented himself, bowing before further entering his tent. He offered him an envelope. "A letter from the Grand Palace."

The Darkling took it and quickly read it, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Although he had convinced the king that inviting foreign diplomats was not yet a good idea, the stupid man insisted that the Sun Summoner performed alongside the other Grisha. Alina was finally able to summon on her own, but he knew a part of her still feared her gift; putting on a show for an audience was not the best idea.

He…worried? for her?

"We will have to be back in time for the Winter Fete."

Ivan grunted. "I hate that thing."

The Darkling nodded in agreement. After all those centuries, he was more than bored of them. It was always the same waste of time and resources for his army, only to entertain the nobles for a few hours. As if they would not go back to turning their back on them the very next day.

Those fools often seemed to forget that his Grisha could have them for lunch if they so wanted it.

Privileged as The Second Army may seem, people were wary of them, even the nobles who lived in the surrounding areas.

"But they will not attempt anything so long as they need us."

"We have little choice, Ivan."

"We could always host it near The Fold and accidently push the royal family inside it." he said, sardonic as usual.

"Tempting." The Darkling smirked, setting the letter aside with little care.

The Heartrender stepped aside to allow him out, and The Darkling marched towards the river, where a few of his fabrikators were working on a new skiff. It wasn't nearly as grand as the one Alina had boarded that fateful day, but that was due to a different purpose.

There was a strange device being placed underneath it.

"Are you sure this will work?" he asked Petya.

The woman hesitated for the briefest moment, and The Darkling reminded himself internally to summon new graves for his Grisha.

"Such a pity." he thought, sincerely.

"Yes. So long as the Squaller sets a slow pace and nobody exerts themselves too much, they should be able to pass in relative tranquillity."

He had a feeling it would not work. His Grisha had already tried several times to cross through the river, but David Kostyk was sure his new invention would cancel out the soft sounds of the skiff against the water and dwindle the sounds of a heartbeat.

"Do not expect the path to be clear." he said.

"That is exactly why we're going, sir." a Squaller, Igor, approached and bowed. "If this works and we can clear the path, we should be able to make it to the other side eventually."

"Let us hope it does not take too many tries." he said.

Too many Grisha lives, he had wanted to say.

"David is rarely wrong, Moi Soverennyi." Petya said.

That was true. David was one of his best Grisha, which was why The Darkling tried to keep him inside the safety of the Little Palace's walls unless absolutely necessary.

Still, The Darkling though the plan stupid and a waste; but it was either that or forcing Alina into The Fold, and she was far from being ready to make a crossing, even through its thinnest point up north.

As a Squaller, a Heartrender, two Healers and two Inferni boarded the skiff, followed by a few strong otkazat'sya men from the First Army, The Darkling thought of David.

He thought of Alina.

And his thoughts returned to David.

With a sharp nod, he sent off the small team to do their last test and headed back to his tent, where he began to write a letter addressed to Mr. Kostyk.

Click here for chapter 8

#shadow and bone #shadow and bone fanfic #alina starkov #aleksander morozova #darklina #darklina fic #alina x darkling #alina x aleksander #genya safin #nina zenik #fedyor kaminsky #david kostyk

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