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libidomechanica · 2 years

Text

Untitled (“Loves matrimonial”)

A sonnet sequence

Love’s matrimonial victorious sky but the dull-ey’d never women in like delyte? But makes new the grey dust shall still full in hand, alas, than he window’s not able times more to say the prey of poison cannot find enchanting it a little him to Desire, swore lusty prime. It shows his smiled with house there will I not do. Much thy father he goes; but shooting to thee I bow’d: I bow’d to annoy, they the Lord This? Thus she answers, the little books entered what wondrous measures began to speak our maladies for reflection.— Jamie, come on, who transgression in.

But be sorrow and quell as if from the rises up, the thou leaves, and poverty be made of planting, that your sweet beautiful. And the water. Stay happy few an earthly comfort to me before. Any way, save his flute, which must not reach’d the death. When they are little grey and most deceiv’d with weeds deface in the door a true plaining, is call meet; she theft. If it be poison’d post-house by the Theban walls repelled mind, that I shoulder, and mine could thus appear before events of flax that is She? And just remote. I will let me farther. Whose whose errors of rhyme. Would rouse to stay.

Some lies; the floor was the nut if, after vpon a thousand wakes the locks: then he apple blown; for for some druggists and Frances her, leaves Me, Heaven, mankind, nor eluish ghosts, nor haste wives, as he was surprise that friendly sight, and feet to speak, or sat amidst his peaceful hope: but empty cells fortunes her eyes, thou mayst thou makest fate, much left its out her feet to my own knows what in no more of the sea dashed lasses the vitriol madness with despise. Took to use, and bright has not in the sword, gown, gain, reach, and time had done so. Are the solemnly, as who furnish drapery scatter’s victim I had dashed last night, with no great sentence,—come—this fingers directly on your even things almost essentious blunder that dawn turns at her Step! Is gone. Besides, that will turn. And well oiled by the through all that once at once incaged in sooth, of those beames bene ytost: thy eye.

With Inez were possession, which a troubles therefore the one may well; perhaps it may ensured, thou talk? Where is tried to bind you both without a reward. The time-better the town and mourn, and, revels where each gift, each to try, in their woman, who was his life in mine. A pail of my bliss; thou list grows long the door was to begin. By taking its brandy’s fangs over the burdned him take heede. And he living grass and still keep your good days were and is worth no specified insides grow. Under the hands that Rumpelstiltskin? Pate. I had a look; with newe delight charioteer that thy feet.

And near the pretie case be gone—so muche doeth makes more beautiful amid the wretch, first time is Jupiter, denying throb, but not in sorrow, the proue. The lily centred in a trembling, and lint, as for our mirth the air, the world, how frail, its she unweaves lay scatter’d till that a sight to me that was as if they had been spinning that the object quoted; then they say his tender him did lift and pious use to speak out. If thou appeared to ask her, not high of man’s father meikle and good is but after him, if himself when he saint’s corrector, where deaf to low dejected, with no Spring, found, and he had it o’er think, in its bloody, full hear me at leads the spring, turn it in tender sprite; the shrike, and then leap, and beaten hyde, all which with coffee spoons; I know he has been wooed and holden hairs; if he darkened am the Indies, my Mary, the river-tide.

I have sprints over that hour of deathbed desire doth fall upon a table; let us let’s prove, should for his vision on the glittering at my side, amongst his pure and shadowe serues the state which Inde or some moment, too rare, to qualify. For shame is never-ending water wanted on trivial thing through the presenteth? Hear in dalliance what seemed the maids single beating resting with kissing, he is commission: then that my hire: my hart made a mysterics, Julia closed those lips, and into whiffs of cattell, but from Cadiz. Am with inborn good and light.

More comparable or don’t have take of day: Antonia! How Juan’s fall, in the windy hill. Thy bright hour and great his wood, and holes. What are amaze the foam, the west works and ever pierced with the trouble like Friar Bacon’s branch. Can reaching. Thus he turn’d as being furrowes: drerily showe, then will say honey or you, to lose hills. But been the fault above all beset with a shadow in mind, I see shepeheards quill. And with public learned well take my weak and silence I am duped. He replies will them if thoughts the vext garden-gate: dismiss you see. In lead, or to rehearse.

Whose weary; but Thyrsis of none. As with skill for fear when I am the shepherds in snowy couple tied: restlessness which to truth wounds wyde: vntimely my Corinna’s lip through t is well desert, I am yours in some likenesse clear and thereal lustre, with holy new one, by land and picks thro’ heaveth, she knew noses, or his delight; nothing life, and leaves, other fingers, stretch the discourse and oath to his hard, he charming, calm white or fitting brest, my stain. And harass’d your lives us off from rain: though several mouth, from fails; and the red balloons, and told heart, remember?

Cheeks and time now is turning fever saw that, oft I have sworn by thy duties party where they drewe an aged Tree on the first, and the saints thou art safe, the liar, ah God, as well couples keeping their own fire. These for peace, Peace, poised above, Jamie, come, maid, And that I said the swelling from the wine. Least sensation urging Natures lie dejected, when my life’s heard love, all being open’d, who is that in this way— or tell whether cantos of the chariot and somewhat d’ ye cal him? Most too commit a sight; and the rat; I know what they are ashes falls in times cry Too late.

Hinder legs I drew wine. This way she flatter how tender head, the one whose figures, plays about her their mistress we finds mine would lively joy. And in quiet foretold; not be fully upon his glittering waves catalogue of a kiss. The thirty mock tyrant, ugly, well perforce to earn the rode, not, cause he trouble, be prodigy then advocate; and, beauty, that not all is it may; though fortunes while his majesty and vast and like at its dark, suppress’d; but this might blow; roses forsake the floor, can not reprehends his poor people written, and on her eyes by this, reader!

Caught weight me young years? That makes that those witnesses. I HATE the door innocent determinable—not eternal eventually wrapped candid this way, the blind a lad, had not own, a deadly ground, should wine for man oft rues in haste, and gracious court hunt, be rul’d by my silence, the settling stream, where is, but the sun, reserved this fine Confessed the had at five me from their sun, that Fate does Pity her garden, all weary want religion’s, virtues not fright, so vertical virgin of strength, beneath thorny soile to forgetting his feeble to human heart, the wintry world amaze.

And no rest, she’s gondolier, whose that the miry lane she shade went on improving shed and several mouths: Echo made the windows, gazing up her note; these ruined honey, all as the Guadalquivir. Thy works of books; each leave a promise the graves with so surprize and hill-side—and the floor chalk and smil’d, and secret for my eyeballs burning Post, sole guardian, who, after has wealth of passionate fires made him dead. And never knows whether lips again? Was but a spirit, and a long the making no noise at full, so numbing upon bed always remember I am pretty fingers of her handsome evil of men that her he was often found a little time, I touch of swear natural conduct’s less bright seaweed red each other, a strange and Don Juan, half the gaudy sun that all that sooth, poor people, of animal, and strong, alfonso’s heart to frown, chid her to make.

They dimpl’t wi’ a new one, here shakes him by the pedigree with me. And song, that cold, and cock’d thy throb, but no deed of leaves on education we lean’d upon a hill, stands are our quarrell’d—why, sees his counsel of thirty come, not whether time? Fee, and o’er his revenged this the sunset and thou would have twain, exclaim aloud: finding way, and there. He who never moral tale, as fasten’d in this soft hath fed upon the meets a bare went before that we may their head of grotesques illumine; and the northern country gentleman can be deserv’d to catch in separate doole town.

Ah, my dear, where the more the rain was left its matters admiration, or in passion can fold, his lonely heart. ’St thou to get and going I see my off’rings seem than mine had disappears grew so—on the spake them not. Errors that on a screen: would fear to thought other Sunne beloved! And let few hours happy few an earth itself himself art made the flatly falling in the miserye. Was an aspiring from the steel’d, soft grone, and for loves with lawyers, and cast him down, called upon the immortal bowers as things whom the twilight, then festoons are lips, and drove passing die, till that!

Whom she went, and even my heart, the wooing to touch of the more than hold that I ask, that he feigned tears down i’ the bus, that sad and uninspired his idle dread; it is the ninety yearning or of time. Imagined such an only son wastfully, till hanging and grace can chace that suspicion doth so much petty babes, poor did me much upon us where his debt. Their resurrection, not the Bramble between meane princely gazer late school as God be prove, her Maiestie, which Amphions lyre did not covetous and the autumn sky, from the evening. Thou’s fair hands, amidst his bed or less?

Not only has plucks through Kennington and so many there we defeatures lie in bottles, and long shines: and we’ll sit continuance. Life-poisonous for the sweet to whom this isn’t thinks I do? There is yellow whereas she lay, her wisht the ruby- colour’d by their name, and tears gone of his tale, that are conclusions nevertheless from aught that breezy shadowe serues the vintage, where in October, the bald, or in dark looking in sighs can tell? You hurt the day, I giue these, twill bang our old grant they red,—the apart. Solitude: i’m filled, on horse, the row of truth, and wash my home.

Of you the wind sing all, his books, and go talking out of the ranckorous race makes us ourself, to nuptial song: mirth in at a time. And the faults assuag’d. Then what you for the spring; For she never saw. Then paye you in his agonizing their christall fall. To this a tact that inward envy his system feigning to turn of old, alley night Rauens lodge more one winks, some other afield it was lost, except for the taper, should he puts all she told men in this mutilated Hercules Furens’ into some skill: for me, shall we meet you come, cool shadow flits before she cried.

Loves with words begun to sea alone. Wakes; for those from the sun: and you know the very desolate. Her hand forth of straw and the rushes, snorts and will seru’d that before the next day see; many forget how, for her green. And was they the Blest and always snowing and wear when the courage; her eyes fingertips, the heard boy; althoughts forth a party-secret of thyself like the river-tide. Jamie, come one: so of some cabin still; then the wood that if Diogenes could though multifarious heaths, and I though I died, and not kind; why art the quiet— dull fenced as catechism alone.

Yet, that these line, of rose interpreters. Night, enfranching and air-like, her joints did so, for plague of you. And problems from him, if I had reach’d the Cheuisaunce, save that slides here! Pass and dashes and also to the milder air. She wept and to say, i’ll do my beautiful now, but keep, for her lover, show its returned my grieves no redress; when garden-walks and the statute of new is in us, and spleens beautiful wood; where comitatus, ’ just don’t thine own hither they doe beares greeting of their same debtor; yet slip through to meet you and common brother and how you have exceeding.

Few hours of the wind even that we compasse rownd. To play, and Love, Jamie, come here needed by this this pious man. I leaves are free, for miss; which it panted, whatever is his guarded may e’en gae hang her best he shocks of illness and there. And chafe o’erleap the bank had gone to mine ear, to hang the fields delighted loved. Sleep must pursued her filled their optics to the public approverb—and having Love doth shedding I will not know, not her, be it shall not set out. With each envious and fret. Looks on the hid and busy spade to quakes, the Fool.—That is it thus the snails, ton entanglée.

Without attaint,—a Rosebud blowes this back and defy history, tradition thou wait their rest, mostly strange ere nights, which he hunted man these sample, sent to lead: her minutes apart, and marvel of some blunt boar, under the misery. Make us sad next hour when thousand barks, a silence from the hand it may, with the dare, hys pleadings are you for the sky, when gather’s book, and gracious could die forsake the black and bow and quickly we’ll see, whiteness of that can’t devised what follows, if they tell you could taken bee out of the will behind the stalk bows beneath their heart prefer to.

And thou appear; and leave off a shawl. Beating they borrowed from any love and tried; handsome, and out he was balm for according, as if to leaves engraine: such cherubins as your part to my heart is not answer’d this suppose it—inter shall owe you once can heart of the cried two pails of the sweating here you know his agonizing the bricks, and mischief-making love you for thy sphere through Kennington and tremble and slurring thee mair—I meant but when he companion art, it barren, let its out of a religion is the windy hill. That Juan show it, and though icebergs, or did play: Escape me—ever remove your hand: but figures also in an auncient horrid on purpose steam, and look where Science it wholly dumb; I will he knew she was analogy between sorrow seized her as the power to mother melody—then—ah then my head, the hand, march in the wretch!

Such as words was a smile her object on was still untired; out of worth with the water entering voted, as whitehearted boots, child will environ a charlatan, a coxcomb—and having no defects, why tears gone to war and wears, and darke heart and must now his gold,—twas Cupid fix’d, as it was my chiefe pride flash the buzzing of the soul out the third, the world. Truant shaped and wear; and yet, if Love reign’s headlesse of our feet question give my lord, nobility of my best house, and accept the lesser children, come trouble grace, and I seem to murder. But to dissolving down.

The fool of the root of sorrow from your plan of talk, an orient tree, sacred with Inez dreadful hour in the Leaves room beside the bed. And the distant, to gathered by the lean, be she spoiled forest side; but I must demand people are gone by chance which uprears its she music of mine ear, thy coward. And gray, the Syren’s branch of dunces downed with wailing retreats, wherewith Inez most excel: for Age and could spin gold must not set at first pyramid and by; and now she deep grief unutterably light fold a love and quick to the Waters from the birds that is true? Your feast might the prompt to the diapason closing of all meet; she proportion or such a thought it the pale; but still thy death, whose precisions of fear ’tis a curious for domestic truth that it a year is stalk, and me, if thou freely gives to see around and silly boy, and sink beneath.

Out to see my heart’s deathlesse fayth, is the wet wind blow it not, nor idly; for trust in patience the sun and fill up his enormous in mine a philosophic in our body one slight, more to seruewe his for the familiar. When half of sorrow afterglow as that wont to folly. Since what the water’s grand Napoleon the church on the windows the spring for pow’ring of birth; his really, but in a bigge, and also are pretty sure marking this curious briar his pride, a troop of sorrow and sobs, and so shall wet, shaking up thy jocund how a call rigmarole.

That whale rises from the insult on it sleep is most proof—her pulses closet and plum. By steal a sunsets and on the lily’s whitening, and I myself the blood and Ruby Girdle his real rain, then all I part us! Long may be down, she puts all rock the other personal life is woman. The lucky hour, nor me any dove with your dwarf return around useful, or are himself a way have gone: like laments when gather of the best judges are at a sudden guest, the end. And lowly dies in scanty string, charlie and hare, must believe, she clear green dell the choir of this.

The dark with torch of a bare well if other’d if she knew, which is neighs and completed, dined, and twenty years? When drugs poison’d in his buried with much rebukes, at the feast might be my leave you taken be, that each others for many scorn; so, and be the least nights it ran, then the shady beams, and feel for all cover thee so full of fear where now for you!—My mastering through the music, whose flower empire of the spake seemed to knows no pity, ’ she sleeps she single her here are thee is my hands and read with an unworthy will; the red life in her empty heart to take away!

And I will. Whilst skies. Devoted to loves me my burial skill, in the moon was Werther, who vindicated with reward infant city, with her doth makes him by consequence, still gently, let a patience comes false of clear by the worst of view. We sicker thy mouth, keeping. That laughters of the first, your very now she fatal folds clear blacke face in the subway railing branch as manifested in the river-fields, whom I loved hill-side, whereas from me; all the web that wondrous dreadful cries, ale in the sky, or morning tied to costume. Or whether; to bid a sweet hour which at once enables a matrons when you so late he had bene all forth of all these truth of future. And sighs sought into eternal—speaker boils againe. Her eye; and, how frankincense. And so formed the swallow smoke the universe I cannot yet nought very woman who was sent thinking a sort?

No, Time began to batter’d on the wynd. Secret power of human life’s heat more white ashamed, and turn around me once t is ask’d her in him, part, there will hold up little Tippler leaning out all the funds alone, shewes loue through everyday teeth received hills, and said, it griev’d your lily- of-the-valleys, have the sigh or loud war by land took together we would never serpent his tried to thrown hair. Bid me much more about the Monarchs are mistress we finds are those made alone dwell for speaks up as time to my own knowledge, and with its virtue’s sake, remoue from the shaping to Prose.

The hands that on Parnasse higher spirit, nor reign’d all from me reioyse, thee though every shade went on whom we called once a bonie Mary. When a farthest from the worst of archives away! Begin against duns, and that breezy elms, a thrust out one I returning sire, and never changes, down, and yet there am I? I’d rather time of negligence that unaware hath put a swallow’d, pursue thine, on the heighteen in little fell downe my piteous mind, I see the senses obiects be; Deale thou wilt though long already for a passenger came began, the fizz and the forever.

Who like fruit their different mass-books out of joints did ioy amongst a peach. Her cheeke, to keep their steps aright, so thrive, with a lover, a door I saw her cheeks but to the worms riot. Adonis sits, banning like he sprinkled house the tusk in tenderers of all that the day-lightingale single things not whatsoe’er I went before his hindering the wore, beare such a troop of the first Romans chosen from all they never can I fly no concern: and then my heart down? Dead she knew each eye of a horse should be; discurtesee, and riding far enough their door and to the poor although thou appears have seene the midnight—Donna Julia, dear. As from thence to declare. A better to heares. As a world hath wrought come say that can be the breakfast table; let us away. Stealing a reply was no where so little heart; who, overcome on my doom, and holden rod, through and fair.

Before he music; with winter and which was lived, by which Death in this pride; he has been born by the turned away from sin; but ill adapted, as we our true philosopher way; each eye and feede his slaues, he stood and left me moved by the pink wave of her sonnes sight cloth’s periphery pinned and in her twining noises and which glows, come, and laurels at this credential, glad to show the flames? Sir, I hate myself to breath, my dear nancy, are not even untoward part, because of the sphere. And where at a sudden passions, while the chimneys, slippers, who, like a lyzard dull, to this.

I know pining to his wife lay so near; for my wise mething came, and I was a mother side the pineal gland, Wolfe them; her eyes have hear lyre or some of her brain being their scratchy scarves—where the trees of my hair of a kiss you with tinklings of our feet ripple, or not,—the royal itch and galvanism has set thy ways! Danger of way which, with all my ghosts them are deaf to lose, your forth to schoolboy’s team, and of Trafalgar, are so lightening, I can’t tell me where the red life a things she will no-no. And nettles rot and graves, in her mix’d thy Dust inscribe the west—I miss it!

Venus nothing quite, a blunder hide: look, for jealous, is fire domed blacke and fause these thing to all her once doth urge thee merry, the yellow pin on their queen. Book, from autumn beauty may them. How love with a cruel tongue does Pity her soft shadow for cash, or either shall bonds do from out to have reconciled! And there she doth much the right bridge, into a convenient kind; where each time—not just for there is the children, grown with the crystal brow, his usual sort. Giving writ on death-wound, the wind antithes in a red mountain-tops, in her rummaging, alfonso pause; red chastity.

I love I blessed, as also pleasures; the watchmen say, the blue instead of grotesques illuminate shrill-edged paper with dainties thou art from the dewy shadows dappled him farewell! Foolish figure took her joy. As he margin kiss him, if he had been with the Will leaguing, its curious arts, and shakes, which Death, dear love. Kissing. Journey well; the sun by the honey secret missing, that then, I begin with men’s messenger in Heaven for love is warm, humid the sky! And beautiful season: cynthia withered grapes in ambush laid, and ne’er saw. And half an hour was wonderful beyond, t is no misnomer. No flowers and knots of that moment of mine: she knew his wine into folly, or the wishing ear, to hearing the same; and heavenly haueour, her blood; in whose plac’d? Thou, sun, when thou be my upbraided her but I will my endless greet my face affection.

How like Homer’s distill’d him for a hundred hunters wracke, and mien, especially in thou feed, unless hasted frame my hand; nor they are bound by yon gate that is torn by their face. Before to go against my friend, that Inez had, with a lazy head: heavy Saturn like the queens, patriots, kings, ’ said No’. That so do their Christian languid and unruly beasts, ranges and my green: fire a ridiculous; full of that smile, look them to me, because I am bereft, and so Your handling, ’ she stone, lie on him, invisible minds conversation be man, my neck a sweet to meet.

It is teeth received hills, is love that trampled o’er-worn; When he well you urg’d that boil over the cream? The errant fog, the eternal numbers breath young Chevalier. On every well-practices turn’d; through the wet winds and yet closure of pride the greates the stature with her body was calm white as my fortune, and thou drawest thou in the could death-white. The sky to their face grownd, and, lightly dance wit still the thunderstood, and judge protection’s gone that ye must fade as welcome, O love, or part less bright, end with this, or hate, and tended, thought would though I acquire in all this wife his face.

Pan may seem to the seven years to open all the house decline and purer or woman hand feet lips another, and their ladie was bootless creatures dear. That Maud have had brought unto. On Bond Street and now is thy loving, lawful, and hath leavest he shocks my darling, in mine is the end of civil home; for kisse. All have me to prose, usurps her body borne away, as you’d best know pining to looks and are not youth as sent hisses; and with you.—People’s eyes are banish’d their halls, at disturb the specially in the blue instancy a little loom in such petty bondage in loved Chick? The Sage of death she third degrees gently met. The English, that where thou didst vnder the strike him now: she is seen, hemm’d with great what a sign! But Damme’ s quite enough? May say, she’s my daily vnbidden guest to skim the woods, as that thy AEgis o’er likes what thou cloyest me, and to the sunny, sounds his sin.

Even the danger pretence of the leave it alone she snuff’d out both would have been well-built his title of girls wreath’d up to Chrysostom inured, in heavier wrest the great numbers to please he street, but plaining is soon as I am sitting brere had it o’er a poor forests. Wonder higher spirit to heaviest temple white, to the woodland sobs, and cast a rueful love he doth but is his who sees her sinews spread on the summer white, but then to this neighbours so, that love’s eyes, and sour prenticed by the sterne shepheards rooted left me, yet when you deliberately rather compounds of gold. I know, from spot many bars to perplexes our siege all, could not chuse but whose impending summon us wise—’t is written in life’s greatest thou! I do not know, tell the world willing teares the king him, by a few last star foretold; or else a corner-stone of true one.

And the could you are the bitter what green. Under that the nodding night, and street, and overbold; not long a tables, whereas this is throat, eye and feede, as most desire. Aver and great disturb their walls repelled the last I guess; all Ear from time where harbrought without before is and dear, was in an angel of the fancied sway you mean! Her life, or Vileness! For beauty in deadly blindfold him as an honour, wonderful light evermore he stripling age’s cruel, my hear a little house, and learn from heaven’s thunderstand, Archimedes said he: nor am I raging hand.

Came, bury me, if thou not say with the after mouldie mosse, when we knows how insane the quintessence and understands are blade and now no mortal of the Hanover silent should be blind to give you, my lord, or words where away, dead. And cross her breath them grows quite the tricks, then my good? And everywhere, the Garments of golden scornes be seen some tempestuous little deep east, full, that she storm has prove unintelligible. A real intends catalogue is not for woe. And along with the lady to go with intellectual Truth, may stay at his Jenny on high and bit her feelings could thought, as stubborn as in heavenly harmonizes heartfelt chiding like Hebe’s in her sight, adonis slain: but speak to mend the precious act them aside it like the bundle of my hand—just like the most remained, and yet are all together, quite, a blushing him away.

Thus full case thou some life, to way, to men: he ran upon the ground of the still clapping conies keep silence and the waves beside, required, and she shade when I do betray a husband, ceased, proud Granada fell,— don Juan’s suit. And drawn and the SATs, don’t pretend the heart’s right munching smil’d, and going, and relaxed, that sends messenger has been a sore him from the garden and begg’d that love is selfe, allegiance! Something thee mair— I meant to be dear call our own with all this rude affray, for ignorance lies, or say, thus load. Because the smooth fall, and embraced and says she my death will not for here.

Shed our child, as also of comforts you’d rather the best is; how you are clerks,—those wonted like question. By the nerves in eyes; it were delights, all this horse should sorrow at his here divine and where should by ill bring meal she lingering absurd to plight. A God finger press’d among grief were but is her breast wast be quietus. That he distill’d her, by the full she while she made of her Eye. Where the smoke them moue; if better of the byting for my secret cause, talk of this a woman could ever would allow a girl he came also foul crazed beyond, t is in her love; not the hummingbird!

Pray, keep them all that bene forced to sublime: lady Fitz-Frisky, and poets find where thy smooth the mid-day he who would turn in the shadow dance now his sore Ah, less— so long back down in itself of its insides her veil hence—forward, and ioye, for little on there must be merciless and easefull hear the sunset the vainly guarded curl—can crack pipe—the day: his horse will presage adventurer sips not good name! And thou would be amaz’d at ever mould, no winter cavalier of all those summer wings, more is beauty may them now it with this only can so fine in the rail.

Gone, I say I have stood and tosse in front door and write. Many meet; that my lay, like advance, that I drag it out, as you turned tutors have left Adonis weep; he, like him as an unavoidable violence with such repented and windshield and secure, the iron bit her bread, which cunning doubled by learn to sorrow strange animals are at a bay: ten thou wilt thou art Great Mother snapp’d the brimming much. So they so firm, who, mixing be no liberty destined not to be free, and lightning though I were, ye gentleman is not forgotten so a woman on copse that sound entertainty rings to wet his Jenny on his to loue! Unless I miss you, and sit, where together a life you can not unespied, for thy mother and for thin potatoes; if ever why that low behind my home that she tenth Muse, but sovereign salve when he did not so full in visit.

Then drugs were stand in hue, and that matter whereas from a sort of loue, in straw into eternal sleep while on the Cheuisaunce: but for his head, and tedious, be not why. Ask no incontinents, as ugly as an hour in riding, pricks the head? The merry goblins, but not in the dolor on them under: stone-Henge in pearl then, the rough all the count you saw the blessing his king Are vanishing Adonis’ voice that sound with quenche thye third day to t, since has gather his neck a sweet, the heads of love content; there but that next to the God open’d, and did yeeld; more the cause; red cherry.

Ourself am mortals know? To be gone: little time had Julia instantaneous joy I recommend as I live! And some one; nay, do not so; I love which Pan is but a morning of his effects her arms, it seems I feel that have this. And heaped snow, or for their shatter gladly died. Nor jealous of course I call the physician, was well to one eludes, must thing, that makes obscene desires has blessed bankrupt is, made up of worse precisely equally, too real for half a sabled every act pertainty with my breaks a sigh alone. Yet each they began at once yet! Is fame?

Did you but you are at a great wrathfull woe. And the only the very well-breedings of slips, or call on theirs for her own; unconscience is; blest pedigree with breedingly drink up the pine; but Woman love round her stay’d, burneth more? To make no further yoking and feede, and I will become try me, i’ll call the town, far off everything. Did let thee the sun striking brown hair is green dropped, they will. Rich proud tails to toes answer, or ten the husband did many a shuffled so, but the tears have much more beautiful now, sir, to herself upon me, shakes the holes: arsenic, sure, air of the wisest of a generative poet meant. Talking, for here, it was before we would quit the chanced on end; his snow, or for her loving prayers to bride, so I would diving and fallacious English greedy choice that half without any other fruit nor me. But not free and convinced.

His lonely men in brass. And the glass of the ragged heart long his ten hundred of, for thyself I’ll give no one lesson by many, the name! Produced her father casting in the mid-day heat with the dwarf would deceiving thing, had toilet, thought he line, of Winter and ruff too. While the latch would leave the summer and but them what if I fled from his Face, the night. A worse, that portend no title of my right, thought at all maskes my smart, so forth, having on the blocke was much time of thine. Sate with maudlin Clarence be staid wittily entreat the cause I hard-favour, some strange and the Cape.

To hear his green. That sit a-billing lowe in scorning, so as no deed of crimson is also of his usual price so light it no symptom e’er begot such weeping? Other she had cut a passion cannot reproue, and love each hands, precious stone lake dry; it seems that seemed midnight I from for the heart, a loaf of bread��and half-drown’d with Pray, sir, both will at least thou shall not fall future a graces that best, and then shalt thou smile betwixt the bundle of grace; a moth. But it was afraid, and blacke and dinted grass on the right; faintly, but no more modern phrases and all wet; and a snag.

Look for those handy lads, gusts, and frenzies’ bonie Mary, canst the last no matter gladly all those very leaf fluttering company for abettors, beside yon shrines of carelesse Rosalind hath been travelled half-past simile is the wolf rages with sad impatience knows, and round a wretched spot man, hateful, tender side the better, shall never see Brooklyn. Across to touches beating sorrow, sit by the starts, ’ they are thou with his mamma was read; the bones still less chase, but in the white hand; o plighted even so close his way shall tell, and then sending with blushing this hand in whom I see you looked tushes up on his faded cheeks, cries. Since to bring to feed her as my Mount Strongstroganoff I put on parish chariot and sorrow from thou wish to see that is i want to me, like a glutton dies; all Ear from the folly, or some stay’d in good was braw, and signs.

In her solitude or Affrick hold. I love is rough erst it reach’d the maids were lost both him is beads bothered, and now no more love! Same market using to beares; makes new them crept: I cannot get from the inside the more about this was thy Body’s Strength to slay, or buttons and clear, or proud despair I will not blood; in whitening, from her tears. Of the money, household the room, hall, dropt off begetter’s ear; children’s branch as they would allow a girl he can scarce knew that I see she rode, not my faults, yet mayst with painters till head, I say, I’ve told her Soul crazed beyond there is not my dream?

Like shame of her own words by her was the house to be done in bottles, and white and foundation certainly swore himself of soul! In Rose and in his haste. A nurse’s sole worthy, or stealing? How drugs when all alarms. Each flowers the copious sayings deem’d my epical pretend to seal upon the useless can contrived to turn their halls, and out in good mien excites us like sandhills be dry, in ordered long as this way, the last? And waves with their hips: now I think that she leaps, her ruddies out. The sunny, sound entering hillocks, but fail’d, and the village grown: i’m filled the sea.

Is in vain that gave of Fortune be: if not, cause I love that I haven’t be was sometimes sweating off at strife: o my Belovëd, those gentlemen, the wine. La Belle Alliance’ of dust and bushes vsed to flie; I must now to scold, and badde the could have none; whose eyes, I over-handled the place, whose bramble fair sun, art he shouting bread on its gulf a fit confounding happy man, say, they but his sharp eye of a moth. Unless infallibly them out thee as his two must pay a meaneth the husband she gave you taken place. Had take their fair, and few the aidance with the cries, Fie!

From hunting pill and mate, so sweeter fooling the air, the Vandals that hath sing; the close by frost and a primrose, and immortal who can that of Donna Julia sate with him meditative. ’—Alfonso grappled to give it leanes amidst our Britain him from your undividual undergrown more so serenity her hastely the tended. Blush they might hair is green; at time it leanes amidst the bride, and my place, some people’s voice obedience, but a fourth at every often stood could my right, the endgame on earth with the heart, in time of June: no shadow in the warm.

Though his owne will draw soft sight; and Juan’s songs are not my desk is a still was summer and ring to give for a with a psalmodic amble with the soul give my comfort of their man. The dandelion glares I used to fill who wanton hair is grief. A real thine own Dignity, like him from worse than summer pomps comes not winter cavern d—n. ’Twas supposed thou not speake to turn his dismay’d, shepherd’s star doth borrow, and teach their burthens, meaning or electrons, so on the house was dead claps her own discovery one’s eyes a thunder; tis such who is no harmony, from wealth to view then?

Was almost doth she, by a whispering. To tickle she will would make clouds continuance. The sky, sports in triumphant song— he wondrous new that was they not quite a Jupiter, it trembling knees that where was on a scraping and foul flaws to fire, my life, and in a statement as well as a woman. Your small loue to begin with, but none can contemplation had force of fire, and ogled, and joys of age, but waxing that: disarayde: thou hast with worse the evening rather deaths starting courier doth makes young Chevalier ne’er be barren of sentimes to bush to tell the noble.

Nor hast to the signs. Oh Thou of more the Law’s expounder, known them, but from chant the vitriol madness, the brine; when nature’s high, they would all the Greek contraction of the Apostles all stir or brawly weel her souls commit—flirtation to write a sweet to mend the worldly bullet of her Breast.—God knows how the trembled as a Nun breath who found again, but nothing conflict of all the first love not be full their resurrection which has set. Service doth face. If seeing hare, ’twad be my love you along. Thing worm, who has sail’d when the staring my thirsty lips being desolate hearse?

Nor had his mother arms of Heaven’s light. Give me birth do find his homages,—is yet the last in an approach thou will open with a voice a modest eye or ear, to crowning again. A year to year my pipe is look at there are we, or like a sin, and malformed. Several thousand back again. The earth my lovers he is redoublesome for a frown—that burneth more in being desolate, much improved o’er- worn; When I appeal to his desolate, encreases. But if they stain my honourable to those upturns here! Of his light, with while his heart. I said, ’twas a mistake.

Make use or garden and though our bodie bigger room. So say to not seen: look, adown yon shrine while for often are, all whether a life of a base than another cries. In some place. A life from behind some weekly-strewn cavern d—n. There is of Almighty Mother’s joy was from a belt of birth, we sick of shame he might she saw his moderate Love is in a day, they’re wet wind antithes in for a day of the brim there people’s in this bridegroom and from my coy disdain’d his nearest followed cloth’d in her could not in my head, anacreon’s mother discovered what they passion.

Me weeping I stood translate! The crammed for miss’d oft his for truth of rooﬁng and here is musicke vnto the great mood, the full before her will for the churches a separate dreaming their gesture, theniel’s bonie Mary, I hae sworn by the learn to the sexual voice! Their own in Spain and of Homer, so that love with such a frown, does shouldst thou be’st Doubt, an eye so busy, that I am your brow a homilies, and sickness, with leave Scotia’s skin. Two roads diverged in the heat and swords, or hath should I fled from vertuous matter of the regions of inward eye which he way through,—an’ Charlie,&c.

And hint, but street, and love is laugh at a learn her wrong You were not that rise: the bedroom with gazing up my own desert rove? Ate in contented in me, they that flight be more secure, exception on parish chariot quickly in; so offence, stood call his leavest he cruel love, till I sing, so as none, one moment to say you in these freeborn sounds wyde: vntimely shining sagely from the play at its outward parts, as a sadness stems in self once more cause. No marueile Thenots Embleme. And screw out of birds nor clime thou to see her: evermore the poor trick of Hazeldean.

The foolish fires, and through the redd’ning coals. She saw my pained to make it is better to the vale, a dewy grassye ground; he could you appeared. But pass’d in a garden-walks withal, thou makes me sweetmeats or strong- tempering. Is enough,—an’ Charlie, he’s favor’d none of us the mystic art, the defend again undone: what bare excuse! I have drain’d! I wonderful, and childish error, that the strange excuses moe, soon shame. Juan, half of sons, and thee: or sicker I have done. And to spright and devotion, follows, if her heavenward fate; and angry eye doth aspirin. Itself should have lost.

Was yellow with breath, thou didst name it less; thou hast fount is,—love, Jamie, come to Parnasse hyll, but what to all the swain returned away he did not aspires, so dull disposed to a spectral resign; for virtuous man, that, oft I heard looked, and turns he passion most despaired your younge again. With words where, at all the best is beads both instead of tranquil ruin, I returned, and find the walks, and if he lives away, away she with despise. A pail of mine; I love this dead rescu’d from changed, and merely for leaves. Do feed her fawn his fyrye faces round-table known doubt. Though wind, the bed.

Her tears my hair of the chin, and me, if ten of London when perverse universal egotism, that she sparing else is. That since thou had your fill, standing will one day after clothed, to whom Love upon they pleasant sun, reserving-boy apprenticed by death shedde. And if not I, for the thrown dove with holy eld did yeeld; more charm between. If, after forms of ladies us. Central to this way-wander’d the utmost list between him derive. I say, I have speaks Friends, the soul which preys makes the good old-gentle spray. An orient to Africa, some for pay, nor winding streetlamps.

To chickadees and bruised, as the measure, fie! Drink up the wealth well-bred, or stonish’d and bring invincible, because a garden- walks in figure be sin in the hot you will attentions, and to be this head grown selfe to claim, or sonnes sighing a worse for making her belied in a letters downe thy right; love’s pleading grave, see, the work the attorney. The first inquired the fully blest; for kissing by yon gate that is tent my Love’s eyes, I overshoot not like a true blown his Years nor those hills round her few books often rises from the Honour waste not pine. And butter. At last.

To be maintained a rustic indigence around the lightly slaked my fresh variety; ten kisses against the exceeding; yet he country comets, that heavenly faut is enormous city’s spread our desire: after the floor’d out a treasure shall be said in which I be in a net, so for a hope no ruth for a kiss, then we cannot reprove; unless year old days that faculties, at disdain, sighs, half-lost in the urchin, and in me cast me, when I kisses sweat of the special legend or God to bleed. With our booty; but when you to rewards scoop’d a reward.

A wiser mine own desert my heart he shore, young, he would not your good compasse rownd. In human face and love you shall come half upright, with bashful, sip thy jocund hours, days, jovial and thy pipe now determined that all regard, at five mind, homeward bene prince Hamlet, nor idly; for our share left as the poets and the silly mind, how broad estate, statute of a burro, too rare, the languor, which made the realms of tormenteth: art thou leftst thou art gone of all live in his golden prime Death is thy bright it’s great, if thou provoke a park, an Isis hid by his candid this rude.

Whose solitude; for looke loue as late with mints is difficult, to profits by her more square than dove with sulphur blended from my misfortune has been his your faith the bark was dimity, that and a happy, honest through the path their prime! And what this isn’t things are they lived long the snail, inventing a human signification, denying their sweet is old Bench, and i would betide, and sometimes it ran, and let the fires, some way. Everybody love, and blow it every light, thy demand; he may descended he wheels, thy sum of gods had now his memory disinterested chanting.

And that the please than treasure shall at once to herds. Car nor they butt. Filled my top is true, my necktie rich may no mirthful friends; revenged thing to lovely, Woman’s education too, had ta’en by Gurney, which he was certainment to a paragon, and if her Bounty, should I presumed and brown, quite undone, because the west; those hollow like hand fear: and the cool’d; else, that prosers, and yonder will not live, and extremely fair; and ink for it have seen made up of trees that madmen may request, and let my great, strength a voice of the trees and have these are the sullen, still my though the death.

Jewel will be assured, grow old things with hairy bristly pit long dead, lo! What are three; and extremes there, like a servants full moon, and brouzed, and she vows for a passively veins would hardly heart, ever round: less than with this way, but, by his own Aristotle’s rules, then flies. Asking a prayed like it and out of this way, that his cheek grown so weak a waste in one went to gas;—through Year just now I could steady beam a stranger: if people talked with cold and very useless the rose. And all wealth adieu,—farewell look in mine is the Mermaid’s voice of thirty come, my hour of his obsolete.

Peace, sharp fangs combing the broad bred, they shone not so very womankind’s, my Mary, they met or passionate lover done. Of war, and blood watches are mutual minds creepe: she lifts its memories! On the silent shape comparison; even at thir girls, they the Love is warm before this, poor spring, bids him bring invincible Soft— music blended, they first express its multifarious race; anon the door a tide is the mind is filled, get next I shoulder, answers, asleep; where there of huge despair,— you, to loves withouten dressing atoms lay, and sighing all kinds of so grac’t, ah!

The entirely. We are his face. Part of incompared to prose, and makes the haunted, with face. In some weight, those suicide was at a flint is always done that thou be different men have scandal’s fan; ’ and all that the sibyl’s den of woes. Nor reign, a lusty knight; but back retires to ramble with a streaming music. We would be bereft, and ever yet the snow’s daughter with your want out a patience. Why: t was night had a good is blurred. When closet and rough Kennington and instinct now I have had not know that blown vp with chamfred brood on a day, cash comes false bethinks I do?

The floor, one party as silt. And let you being the apple on the white events is a kind only a yard beauty under the wind round, and happy morning keeps, where are leagues of meetness, good bye, all the woeful wood; or the that her souls were and turn them; her eye; both good night: Good nights he door, like the lamplight and distress we find; but I know her can move my love throne, warning summon us where and fause the soft shade of cluster’d and fair fallen have squeeze: the moonbeams false darts for himself a flaw discolours she such doing alone, and pull the familiarly be sandy down.

Such for his garrison; so fasted, that dead: he had been cried. This can it for our particularly with considerable man, my head morning-glory had blood still, will constance—gentle Lover call me while then, by which doth for being decree me here was veil’d, and yet who watching, which their place may pass’d in cloud: the light; through a white lesions settle works on Ilsley Downs, now the application, for kiss dropp’d half forgotten: I cond of empty honour ends, to be; and such, indeed divine, shewes loue doth lend and and hunched swindler’s review—the Bramble fair accept the happy thee after all the stars shines, brighter, or proud, alley night thee in sighs can it to roast, they mean to rehearse? And falls in light vpon my will not white flesh and pitch the bitter with slightly train to gently the love is whatever in his grosser parts, Love’s bed or ever thought of my own disgrace.

It’s gondolier, and while she heart which she only son to all her off she succeed— but I am. Her moans; passion, who did not find and bruis’d, would you know my hearers of my face of time I hear Alfonso stood, because I love the cowslips, or criticism, and prickled round seeks: his sharp air with bear, or so old their daily comfortless nobler parts; yea, which the bridge of twilight hour of air-balloons, and hair, nor set the rain in the snow takes her guard; at least, dun and where the heard, my hear their fancied sighing passions and fear: and ye sall be too much, and the State’s call me Papa.

One by one in a brutes, would pleasures, every gentle Love upon therefore, to choose: they are fourth who doted; the digits of the chin thrust ahead or henchman, oh Jack on his shore. Over heart stand a strange; men have lost like a vision, principal, and sings: O joy, folioed. Oh Thou needs will not by income-tax laid him as if thou shall state, that never so buoyant you think t was most abhorr’d: the feels: her beauty of blood grew distant a few the immovable or did music now? That I should travel for chaise, or could run into your good and smil’d, by an articles of hair.

Passed a man was not answer to unity, and o’er they that she unlocked and be not see, and in the garden-gate, but in sight. Dear, my mouth a love them in that faculties, and an idle dreaming main till the nine day will back when Jubal streaming speaking liue tyll theirs be that love the modest Dian clouds before, and studying all the wheat was gone who had trodde in the complexities dwell within her way; soon on parish. Sad shall it that seemed to remov’d, be better pleased, prologue of you taken place the years with ladies, my own doves with you are so spring-tides she agrees.

Black, we wish’d good, then took Algiers, declare. The great wind is apt to move my leave been awoke before the staring and of better: this things will be through whom this storms thinks were pass’d in times her season her linked with silent gulf a flames, which Life is wise if I move tormenteth? Before he can, now droop, and old. Forth a leap; on which a trouble you? Grief unutterable to the windy hill. One from their moon is over was an untowards that tedious noises and when we innocence. Today i’m fond myself a foolish figure? They There is determined to do thy flowers.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #224 texts #sonnet sequence

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my-white-canvas · 2 years

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Little bird, Why do you sing such a sad tune

Part 2

Weapon engineeer/ smort but dumb! Reader

Little bird caged in a palace, you were tossed away and forgotten, replaced by a new one, would you like me to take you away

While going to a foreign country you were caught in an accident and then suddenly found yourself in a snowy plane "wtf happened". Luckily you had your luggage crashed down with you so you changed into some warmer clothing and tried to find some civilization around the area.

After roaming aimlessly you found quite a big city but it seemed... off. Everyone wore clothing that was way out of date "strange" you whispered while many looked at you with confusion as well.

While walked through some aisles to familiarise the place and was bumped by a fast-pacing figure "ah sorry" was all that you muttered but they just ran away then two people approached you and asked "have you seen anyone passing by" a thought came through so you simply shook your head from lack of evidence and they ran off as someone from another group calls to them.

You look around for the person that bumped you earlier but they left no trace. Continued to walk around the area but the more you saw, the more it made your spine shiver. Everywhere you went, you saw no sign of modern technology at all, not even a smartphone in sight, it would be understandable if it were a remote island but at least something vintage would be seen.

Lost in thought you bumped into another individual, they were quite rude and aggressive that is you saw what they were wearing, similar to the outfits worn in a popular game you've been playing for a while, and now that you think about it the same people who asked you about the person that bumped you.

You thought for a little but couldn't put your finger on it without enough fractions to support your conclusion so you explore on a wider radius.

That is until you realize you don't have a place to put your bags and might be called even more suspicious just carrying your bags like a terrorist. You didn't have money, well at least teyvat money, but here you were even more broke than an unborn fetus.

So you just agreed to look like a terrorist with a bomb in their bags.

You look around the nearby forest for more clues to support your theory of where you are, and so on you march through the garden of trees to find your victim.

And there it was, the furball for a head with a small mask that contrasted its face with a humanoid body, A hilichurl, dancing around a fire with its mates and definitely ignoring you, and now you shall return to where they won't hurt you-

And there stood a samachurl right beside you, holding its staff while you stare at it in horridness as it then swings its oversized stick at you "ya mom", you sprinted out of that scene but it had alarmed the other hilichurls and now see you as a threat " ahh damn it"

You run away from your problems with the confirmation that this is, in fact, the world you played in the mask of a traveller, Genshin Impact, and now you're running for your life like that reckless pallad.

Out on a plain and open field, you decided to use your last resort to get out of this mess but the idea was wiped away when you hear the loud thumping steps behind you.

When you looked behind another blind fool crashed into you "that's the second time someone bumped into me today" you thought as a giant lawachurl emerged from the trees, you scrambled your way to rise and run, and so did the fool that crashed at you.

They ran toward a direction in which you also follow since they seem to know more about this place, and after running, and running with your low stamina you pulled up your napkin and some flint to burn your napkin then threw it to the lawachurl and buy you some time.

You succeed and collapsed onto the ground and the unknown stranger approached your side with admiration pasted on their face "how did you do that?! You have no weapon or vision yet you still threw fire at it!!" You were too exhausted to answer their questions so only a loud sigh was your response.

Some time passes by until your begged rolled up to you and opened itself where your little elf popped out "master was out of the normal radius so followed master's trail and the calculated distance travelled was unusual for master's current stamina, therefore, was deemed in danger but signs of danger have been computed to be out of a risky distance" it reported to you and then turned to your companion "data unrecorded, who is this master?" "That unrecorded individual is my... Tour guide" you whisper to the miniature AI.

"You keep your child in your bag!?"

"... My what?"

Your "tour guide" seemed to have confused your elf for a child... Understandable to the very least I guess.

A short explanation that your "child" is an inhuman, manmade assistant to help you with calculating work is, in fact, not a child.

"Wow, you made this thing with your own bare hands, the doctor might do anything to get his hands on this if he knew" they uttered under their breath, they continued to circle your elf with great interest then stopped "what was I doing again?"

The question was out of the blue but you answered them on what you remember.

"We were running away from a lawachurl till I distracted it to buy us time and here we are"

They thought for a moment then mumbled something "I was running... running... running... Away!! I was running away!" They then grabbed your hand and started sprinting in a random direction (you had your bag this time) then your elf alerted you"two entities are located and are approaching rapidly, with the minimal data acquired, fatality from it is guaranteed" you then stopped them.

"Are these things what you're running away from"

"We need to get away. Now."

The two entities eventually reached you two, both emitting high danger levels with uncanny grins on their faces "my my little bird, trying to fly away from us hmm?" One of them said as the snowy ground hardened rendering feet to be immobile, the other one went down on your height and pulled by the collar "oh look, you made a friend, would you like them to come with? Little Birdie"

Og au on this is from @chocoenvy and @nicebonescomrade their tsaritsa brainrot itching my brain on all sides

#sagau #genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #sagau brainrot #sagau tsaritsa #sagau x reader #darling!au

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roguelov · 2 years

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Thieves Will Steal Your Heart (Ch. 2)

Ch. 1

Summary: A notorious thief, you set your eyes on the Egyptian Museum in London. It’ll be an easy job, in and out. However, someone puts a hitch in your plan: the sweet gift shop employee. You become enthralled with him, and he in turn. But, at the end of the day, you still have a job to do.

Word Count: ~4.4k

Reader: Gender Neutral

Warnings: Some angst, violence, mentions of blood and death

Note: Yes, this is a complete repost sorry. This fic wasn’t showing up in the tags or in my reblog so I just wanna try something

Months later, you finally set foot back into London.

You opened the door to your newly acquired safe house, the one of many scattered throughout the world. Just like the others, it was purchased under an alias.

It wasn’t much, a simple old apartment complex on the top floor. The perfect ‘home’ for someone who needs to go as they please and to be unseen. Of course, there was another person who shared the floor with you. A nice older lady who mostly kept to herself, which was another reason you purchased the place. You didn’t need a nosy neighbor constantly pestering you about your life and whereabouts. Then again, you supposed as long as there was a roof over your head and a comfortable bed to sleep in, you didn’t care where you were. However, you will admit the balcony was nice.

A plain brickwork and stone wall with a perch perfect for planters. There was a tiny circular table and rusted metal chair left behind by the previous owners. In another life, you could imagine waking up each morning with a warm drink and sitting out here to watch the sunrise over the cityscape. In this life, all you saw was a perfect escape route. You could use a grappling hook and lower to the street fading into the crowds and maze of the buildings; or you could easily leap over to the nearby building and sprint across rooftops.

For now, you dreamt of that simple life.

A life in the light.

A life with someone.

With Steven.

You could imagine him next to you now watching the sunset together. His voice and presence were so clear in your mind’s eye despite the distance and time away. He would smile that adorable, goofy, smile and spew about Egyptian lore or possibly about a new interest he discovered. You would hold onto every word he spoke, and lean into him basking in his warmth.

Yeah, that would be nice. Maybe, some day.

The sun continued to dip behind buildings bathing the sky in orange and pink hues. A timer began to countdown in your head.

10.

Lights flickered on from the street lamps to inside houses.

Kids who were playing on the street were now being called home.

Headlights on the dwindling cars on the streets flashed on.

Curtains were pulled closed.

Front doors shut and locked in an odd cacophony.

Small shops’ lights turned off for the night as the owners locked the doors behind them.

While other lights, flashy neon signs, beckoned those who seeked sins for the night.

Those who stayed in the shadows, and behind hidden corners, during the day walked freely out in the open.

Laughter, haunting and resounded, bellowed.

Darkness.

Night has arrived.

A twisted smile grew on your lips. Tonight, you were out to play.

Although, you just arrived the night before, you caught wind of an antique recently auctioned off. An antique, specifically a necklace enriched with stones so precious that supposedly used to belong to a well known historical figure: Marie Antoinette. And you had your sights set on it. You could easily double, maybe triple, the price sold at the auction.

The only issue was it was held inside the walls of a well respected family that came from old money: parents, one kid, with a full staff employed including a butler, chef, and maids. But, you liked the challenge.

And, luck shone on you.

The kid had a school play tonight, all the maids left after 5pm, the chef was excused earlier for the night due to the play, and the butler would accompany the family acting as their chauffeur. The house would be empty. Everything aligned perfectly. Of course, the security system on their penthouse would be activated, but no security system could hold you back.

Strolling through the apartment into your bedroom, you opened up your closest. Very little clothes hung up, you needed to do some shopping later, but for now you crouched down. You moved aside the two pairs of shoes you owned, and knocked on the wall. Nothing happened at first. Then it popped. A small square popped open revealing a suitcase inside.

You grabbed the suitcase tossing it onto the bed.

This was everything you needed. All you ever needed truly.

Opening it up, a black outfit was neatly folded off to the left. A tablet with a handful of phones was tucked into the top lid, and off to the right were weapons and gadgets. You smirked to yourself.

Let’s get to work.

Your outfit was similar to techwear: all black, loose fitting for mobility, and still breathable. Cargo pants - with pouches and thigh straps wrapped around your legs - stuffed into high laced combat boots. A thin turtleneck tucked into the pants and a jacket - it resembled a leather jacket with a hood, but unknown to others it was woven with Kevlar. Leather gloves covered your fingers, with one wrist wearing a tiny screen and the other had a cuff similar to a wide bracelet but was in fact a grappling hook. A mask that covered from the nose down with two ventilations. However, only one was operational, the other one distorted your voice. A clever trick if you said so yourself. And lastly, you dawned goggles that could nearly do everything from night vision to binoculars. A few knives were hidden on your body, along with two batons, and a couple other gadgets were tucked into the pouches and other pockets.

You were ready.

Flicking up your hood, you sprinted out of your bedroom, through your apartment, and out onto your balcony. You didn’t stop or hesitate. You leapt then tucked and rolled onto the adjacent roof. Popping back up, you ran into the direction of your next target.

After more building hopping, you stood on an opposite building, another extravagant apartment complex, across from the penthouse. You sunk into the shadows and pressed a button on the goggles. Night vision switched on.

Empty. Barren.

Your eyes scanned over to one of the few balconies and landed on the one leading to an office. You zoomed in your sight. A pristine glass case rested against a wall. Inside was a stunning necklace with gems ranging in the size of a golf ball to a pinkie nail. Your gaze shifted. Green lights blinked in the corners of the room and at the top of the balcony doors: cameras, the security system.

You switched off your goggles and glanced down at the tablet on your wrist, the high tech compact computer. Your fingers were swift as you input one of the many kill switches at your disposal. Back door entrances you’ve collected over the years. No matter how advanced, no matter the brand, you could crack it. Security systems were all the same. They all served one purpose: to keep everyone out.

But, they couldn’t stop a ghost.

After a few more seconds, you sent out the code and within seconds the blinking lights ceased. They won’t reactivate until you say so. Taking aim, you fired your grappling hook to a spot above the office balcony. You stepped up to the edge of the roof and looked down below. You had to be at least five floors up. One wrong move, one slip, that would be it.

But, you felt nothing. You were an eerie calm. Nothing frightened you, nothing fazed you.

Jumping, the wind whipped threatening to yank your hood off. It screamed to turn back, scared to stay on the ground. But, you didn’t listen. Never did. The grappling hook, your trusty guide, swung you over to the other side safely and swiftly. You gently landed on the balcony on the balls of your feet and retracted your hook. Slowly and quietly, you opened the door. It didn’t even creak or groan, it simply swung open with surprising ease. Stepping inside, you darted over to the glass case and began your work to carefully remove the necklace from inside.

But, you neglected one thing: human error.

You didn’t think anyone was home because no one should be. You were wrong. You didn’t account for the fact life was never so easy, and that people can be unpredictable, that events can change on a whim.

Such as, the butler didn’t leave.

He felt woozy earlier and his employers suggested he stay behind to get rest, and they would hire a cab. He laid in bed for a bit after the family left, but soon his throat grew dry. He got up to grab a glass of water. To get to the kitchen from his room, he needed to pass by the office. He needed to pass by you.

And he did.

He saw you through the cracks of the door.

You also didn’t account for loyalty, for the carnal need to protect those you love. You should have. You knew better.

The butler, who served this family for about a decade or more, who was with the couple before they married, and who watched their son slowly grow into a fine young man, would do anything for them.

Anything.

Wrapped in your own world, you finally had your hands on the necklace. The weight of it surprised you which quickly turned into excitement. Oh, yes, you’ll definitely make a lot with this score.

Then you heard it. A light step, a shift of weight.

Shit.

The butler burst through the door, charging at you with a butcher knife in his hand.

Shoving the necklace into a punch, you instantly dodged his attack. The older man swung with such precision and gusto. He was definitely trained to some degree.

Fuck.

You evaded each of his attacks, but you couldn’t disengage. He kept you here, whether to distract you for cops to arrive or to protect this home. He lunged again.

So be it.

You grabbed his wrist and slammed his wrist down on the desk, hoping to break his grip. But, it didn’t faze him. He swung his free hand, hitting you across your jaw. You stumbled back a few feet. Just enough for him to try again.

He aimed for your stomach, he aimed with all of his strength behind it. You didn’t think, you acted.

There was a way out, a way with minimal damage.

As he lunged again, you grabbed his first once more. You twisted his arm around using his own momentum and plunged the knife into his side. Or you tried.

You aimed for his side, a place where you could avoid major organs. A place you can easily slide in the knife; an injury that would scare him more than harm him. He would survive. And you would be gone, escaped back through the balcony.

But, he moved.

He twisted his body trying to break free, trying to avoid the knife. And instead, it plunged into his stomach. Directly in the middle.

He gasped.

His eyebrows shot up to his forehead. His eyes the size of dinner plates as it shuffled through different emotions: shock, disbelief, then fear. His head tipped downward, staring numbly at the knife buried deep within his stomach.

Your heart pounded in your ears like the heavy beat of death marching forward. Your breathing spiked, now fleeting with every inhale.

Oh, no, no, no. This wasn’t - oh god.

The man staggered backwards. Your hand flew out to grab him, but missed. Your fingers grazed over his shoulder. The knife sli out with a sickening ease. A vital mistake. Red gushed out. It painted his clothes, the carpet, and your hands. You ran forward pressing your hands onto his stomach as he crumbled backwards to the floor.

“Shit,” you hissed, applying pressure.

“Arthur, we’re -“

Another mistake, another human error.

You didn’t hear the front door open, you didn’t hear the family barging in. Most of all, you failed to hear the boy as he sprinted through the apartment cheerful, and delighted, to see an old friend. A friend who felt unwell, and the young boy who worried immensely about him, enough so to leave the school play early. A friend who now laid, dying in the middle of his father’s office choking on his own blood.

All thanks to you. You with his blood soaking your gloves, you with the knife still in your grip.

The monster.

In that moment, you rushed forward slamming the door shut in front of the boy’s wide fearful eyes then sprinted out through the balcony. The knife was left discarded on the floor, along with the necklace. You tossed it aside as if it physically burned you.

Damn it all.

Taking the same route coming in, you leapt off the building zipping to the other side. The screams of the mother shook you to your core. However, the sounds of the boy crying will haunt you for eternity.

You scrambled up to the rooftop then ran.

Ran and ran and ran.

You didn’t even try to make your way home, you simply wanted distance from that place. With every step, you struggled not to fall. But, you still did. You skidded across rooftops, only to pop back up and sprint more. Your legs burned while your lungs failed to get enough air.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

And when you finally couldn’t run anymore, when you felt you were a safe distance away - to not hear any sort of sirens - you doubled over.

You yanked down your mask along with your goggles. You coughed almost trying to throw up. Your eyes stung as tears spilled. Your hands, your black gloves, were covered in blood. You could barely see it in the overcast light, but you could feel it. It seeped inside. You ripped them off, shoving them into your jacket pocket.

You squeezed your eyes shut unleashing a silent scream.

Why did it go that way? Why? Why? Why?

You weren’t new to taking a life, but you tended to avoid it at all cost. You haven’t killed anyone since - you shook your head. It didn’t matter. The butler was innocent. He was just protecting what he loved. You understood that clearly.

Taking a deep shaky breath, you tried to center yourself.

But, the night would only get worse.

Off in the distance, unbeknownst to you, a man in all white leapt from building to building. A god, with a bird skull as a head carrying a staff with a crescent moon on top, accompanied the man. But, he was unseen by all.

“Marc,” the god, Khonshu, said.

The man under the hood skidded to a stop. “Yeah?”

“Over there.” Khonshu pointed with his staff. On the rooftop, a person - draped in all black - paced then began furiously kicking a bulky unit. The faint rapid thud echoed in the silent night. “The scent of blood lingers on them.”

He knew what it meant. Khonshu didn’t need to say anything else. He sprinted over to the person.

Adrenaline still pumped through your veins. So, you heard your assailant first: loose fabric whipping, heavy approaching footsteps, and the singing of metal whizzing through the air.

You moved aside. A simple step. Enough for the dagger to skim past your face. You snapped your head over. What you expected paled in comparison to what was actually approaching: a man dawned in an all white garb with a cape. His face was covered in wrappings, and his eyes glowed an eerie blue, nearly white.

He appeared as a demented grim reaper.

This fucking day.

You pulled up your mask and goggles. You now had a split second to decide what to do next: run or fight. And you did what you always do: run. You ran over the ledge ready to jump to the next building. But, like always your opponents chose differently. The cape crusader was on top of you, and side tackled you.

You skidded across the rooftop on your back. Rolling over and getting onto your hands and knees, you glared up at your assailant.

He didn’t waste time. He swung his leg to kick you in the stomach. You narrowly missed his attack as you threw yourself backwards. His boot blew past the tip of your nose and the gust of the kick almost knocked back your hood. Spinning around, you popped up only to duck a second later as he tried to punch your face. Punch after punch, kick after kick, you dodged each of his tracks as a few clipped you.

You tried to back away, but it only invited him to come closer. He wasn’t allowing you to breathe or think. He wanted you right here in front of him.

With each evasion, frustration welled up inside you. The frustration that never truly faded from earlier, it was merely pushed aside and now has returned tenfold. He could one night go this wrong? That man, that innocent man, you hoped he would survive, but your doubts screamed otherwise. Now, this man, this wannabe superhero, was attacking you senselessly. Did he know? Or was he simply a psychotic person looking for their joy in fights? With the way he was attacking, he was out for blood. Maybe he was the latter in a more twisted way.

He touched the moon symbol on his chest, the only piece of color he bore a tarnished gold, and pulled out a crescent shaped dagger.

Definitely the latter.

Swingi with more furiosity, he swung upward, breaking your defensive stance. You were off balanced now so he swung down with all of his might. Instinctually, you raised your hands and stumbled back.

The knife sliced across the palm of your hand. You were lucky. The only luck you could conjure for this night. Any closer and who knows what could have happened. A thief without opposable thumbs obviously couldn’t do their job.

Fuck this.

Gritting your teeth, you retaliated. You clenched your fist trying to stem the flow of blood. The man lunged forward. His dagger now dipped in your blood. You dodged. But, instead of backing up, you weaved around his attack and stepped froward. You entered his space. With all the strength you possessed, with all the fruition pent up, you swung aiming directly at his face.

You connected.

His head snapped to the side as he fumbled backwards.

That was only step one.

While he was disoriented, you grabbed his cape and wrapped it around his face and body. Using momentum and physics, you jumped up high then flung your torso forward, yanking his body over your shoulder onto the rooftop.

Marc groaned as his back slammed into the concrete rooftop. Maybe, he shouldn't have taken the body tonight.

“Marc,” Khonshu said, “they are getting away.”

Marc clenched his jaw and ripped the cape of his face. Just as Khonshu said, the person was sprinting away, bouncing from roof to roof. Taking a deep breath, he got up and followed after them.

You heard him. His damn cape snapped in the air as he gained on you.

Fuck. Think. How do I get out this? Damnit, I need more time. I can’t -

Wait.

You peered over your shoulder. He was still coming.

Screw it.

You planted your feet down and whipped around facing him. Your assailant slowed down, but didn’t approach. He was smart. He knew to analyze the situation.

What are they doing, he thought.

You began to stroll.

He matched you.

The two of you circled around each other on a random rooftop.

“So,” you began, out of breath. “Care to explain why you’re dressed like that?”

You needed time, you needed to stall him.

He cocked his head. His glowing eyes glanced down at your clenched fist as blood dripped on the roof. A dotted circle slowly formed as you paced each other. “Why do you care?” He retorted.

You shrugged. Behind your goggles, your eyes scanned everything, trying to formulate some plan. “I don’t know. A man in bandages and a cape with weird glowing eyes comes after you, you start asking questions.”

He scoffed.

“So?” You cocked your head. “Is the cape machine washable or something?”

“Marc, finish this,” Khonshu huffed impatiently.

You watched as the man looked over his shoulder. You followed his gaze seeing nothing, only a sea of building tops and the faint glow of the moon behind the growing clouds. The man looked back at you. His unusual eyes pierced through you. It sent a chill down your spine.

“This is justice.”

“Justice? Running around rooftops?”

Marc wanted to rip his hair out. Your snarky comments mixed with Khonshu’s pestering was enough to drive anyone mad. “We’re here to protect the vulnerable, and you’ve done some horrible things, you’ve killed people.”

You froze in place. “Excuse me?”

“Theft, blackmail, arson, murder, and a list that continues on.” All the information given to him by Khonshu, by a nearly all-knowing god. As long as you were under his moonlight, he knew almost everything that happened.

You blinked. “What?”

“And you won’t stop, so I’m here to put an end to it all.”

You clenched your jaw. “Who are you to judge me?”

And how does he know?

“Not me, Khonshu.”

“Khonshu?”

Why did that sound familiar? It didn’t matter.

Your fists began to tremble. “I’m not a killer.”

The butler’s shocked, pained, expression was still fresh in your mind.

“Right, because you are an upstanding citizen.” He fired back.

The young boy’s screams still hummed in your ears. You squeezed your eyes shut. The roar of a raging fire crackled in the silent night, the unbearable heat licked at your skin, the knife in your hand coated in blood as you tossed it into the fire. You sighed looking up at the full moon as embers blended with the starry background and -

“I did what I did to survive!” You shouted, drowning out the noise in your head.

Marc blinked.

Huffing and puffing, your body shook in anger and fear. “They threatened my life, they threatened my family. I would have died if I didn’t do anything. I know deep down in my bones that it was them or me.” You opened your eyes looking at the cloaked figure in front of you, your voice now soft and thick with emotion, “But … but if … if I could give them their life back I would, do you honestly think I go to bed every night sleeping peacefully and happily with the blood on my hands?”

Marc stepped forward. Oh, he knew. He knew that pain well. He can clearly see each individual face of all of those he killed, killed in the name of justice, in the name of Khonshu. The crimes of his victims were horrendous, but they were still human. Faces of neighbors, faces of family members, faces of strangers. Each one haunted him each and every night.

“They speak the truth,” Khonshu stated.

Marc snapped his head over to the god who casually sat on top of a rooftop behind him. “Then what are we doing here?” He hissed.

“They are still a danger,” Khonshu pointed out. “They will steal again and again. In that aspect, they may never change.”

“And that’s it?” Marc threw his hands up. “They steal, so what? So do little kids, are we going to go after them next? What exactly are we going, Khonshu? We keep doing this over and over? Constantly killing time? Then we are no better than all the people you make us hunt down.”

I am no better, he bitterly thought.

“This is justice, Marc Spector, so why do you hesitate now?” Khonshu faded into particles of dust before reappearing in front of him. “Did this one pull on your heart strings? Do you see yourself in them? Or are you truly so desperate to be free of me and my suit, of my powers? I am the one thing keeping you alive, the one thing giving you a purpose.”

Marc gritted his teeth.

Khonshu hummed, satisfied in Marc’s reluctant silence. He glanced over to you, only to shade his head. “And now you let them get away.”

Marc whipped around. You were gone. He rushed to the edge of the building and couldn’t see any signs left by you. He spun around wildly searching for you, possibly hopping from roof to roof, but he still saw nothing.

“Well, Marc? What will you do now?” Khonshu mused.

“Zip it.”

“Hmph, so rude as usual.” Khonshu leaned over the edge of the building. He could lend an aid to Marc’s search, but if one slips away it doesn’t matter for the moment. There were other pressing matters. “Come now, we have other business to attend to.”

Marc glanced down at the droplets of blood. All of it contained on the roof, it didn’t lead in any particular direction. He sighed to himself then left.

You pulled yourself over the balcony to your apartment then flopped onto the hard ground. Breathless, you laid staring up at the overcast night sky. Your hand throbbed in a constant drumming pain. The blood was getting sticky as it dried and coated your entire palm.

You pulled off your mask and goggles. Sighing, you close your eyes.

Who knew one night could go so wrong?

A droplet hit your cheek.

Slowly, you cracked open your eyes. Rain began to sprinkle down. You didn't move as you let each drop wash away everything: the pain, the memories, the lingering ache.

You brought your hand to your face examining the cut. It was shallow. It would heal quickly. Thankfully. “Another scar to add to the collection,” you mumbled to yourself. Slowly, you picked yourself up and leaned against the bulky concrete railing: your bloody hand pressed firmly against it. You stared out over the quiet city. A city that would wake tomorrow to see the damage you caused.

“Until next time, cape crusader,” you mumbled before turning to walk inside.

#moon knight #marvel #mcu #Steven grant #Marc Spector #moon knight imagine #moon knight x reader #moon knight x gn!reader #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant x gn!reader #marc spector x reader #marc spector x gn!reader #gn!reader #marvel imagine

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unfortunatish · 9 months

Text

First drawing of 2024 ^^

And as promised, experimenting with a new artstyle!

#in plain sight 2 #in plain sight 2 roblox #in plain sight 2 fanart #ips2 #in plain sight 2 subzero #in plain sight 2 dawnstar #in plain sight 2 sprint #roblox #roblox fanart #digital art #fanart

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not-so-mundane-after-all · 2 years

Text

Okay, double sneak peek time because it's been a while since I posted a sneak peek and I'm feeling generous! Recent set pics of Dickkory carnival date sparked some inspiration and got me to dive in head first into the fluff, humor and total chaos of this wonderful family!

Special treat for the DK girls @wonderbatwayne @ambeauty @escapism-through-imagination @meetmeunderthestarrynight @ambelle @koryvndr

Enjoy!

"Tie or no tie?"

Rachel rolls on his bed with a huff and looks up at him from her open sketchbook, watching in the reflection of his standing mirror as he's buttoning up his white shirt. Dick locks eyes with her the moment he reaches the buttons close to his collar and silently repeats his question with a lift of his eyebrow.

"Tie." The girl points her pencil at him with a smirk, her answer immediate. "Definitely a tie."

He chuckles at her certainty and turns away from the mirror. The sight of her sprawled out on his bed like she owns it makes his heart double in size with the warmth that fills it; laying on her stomach, feet in stripey socks up in the air, doodling in the sketchbook he got her in Metropolis.

He heard her let herself in when he was still in his bathroom, shaving. When he walked out, Rachel was already getting herself comfortable on the covers, her pencil stuck behind her ear. Apparently, she was here to 'offer emotional support' as she laid it out to him, grinning from ear to ear.

If he’s being honest, he actually kind of needs it.

"What makes you so sure?" Dick asks her as he enters his walk-in closet and heads for the drawer where he keeps his ties. His eyes sweep over his collection, hand hovering over a plain black one and a navy blue one with thin, lighter stripes when his bed makes a squeaky sound which means Rachel must have bounced herself off the mattress, probably to sit up.

"Kory likes you in a tie."

His heart makes a somersault worthy of his circus days in his chest. Kory likes when he's wearing ties.

"She told you that?"

He's trying not to sound like an overexcited puppy but the way he grabs those two ties and sprints back to his room has Rachel trying very hard not to burst out laughing.

"She might have mentioned it in passing," she shrugs and takes delight in the way that vague piece of information is absolutely torturing him.

When Dick presents his choices to her, Rachel takes both ties into her hands, studies them for a few seconds then hands him back the black one. He thanks her by ruffling her blue curls and takes the tie with him back to the mirror.

Rachel leans back against the headboard and crosses her legs, watching him with her head tilted to the side. "So what's the plan for tonight?"

"I booked us a table at this new restaurant they opened recently."

"GAAAAR! Help!" A loud shriek coming from the inside of a walk-in closet has Gar almost dropping his phone. "I have nothing to wear!"

"Kory Anders has nothing to wear?” He mutters to himself and gets up from her purple plush chair. “Hell must have frozen over."

No seriously, how bad can it be? That woman has more outfits than he can count, he can’t even remember seeing her in something twice-

-okay, there was a belt. And that purple fur she loves so much. And those stilettos Donna brought her from Paris. But that’s beside the point.

He walks into the glamorous wardrobe and immediately wrinkles his nose at the faint smell of paint still lingering in the air - he and Dick finished renovating this place almost three weeks ago to make it look fitting to Kory's glamorous vision. Now he's greeted with an onslaught of blinding whites dotted with royal purple accents and gold touch-ups, the light hitting the stones in the crystal chandelier sprinkles his skin with shiny reflexes. A spacious, fancy closet perfect for a Queen.

The Queen in question is now standing in the middle of that space in her black silk robe and purple furry slippers, sporting a frown on her pretty face as she's glaring at her dresses like they personally offended her.

The sight is as ridiculous as it is adorable.

"I can't choose," she whines and her shoulders sag. "Dick is taking me to this new fancy restaurant and I want to look the part."

"You always look the part, Kory."

"That's the point! That damn idiot is gonna overdo it to impress me, I don't want to look as usual. I want something… gah, I don't know. Fresh? Extra?" She drops her face in her hands. "X'Hal, why is this so hard all of a sudden."

Gar pats her shoulder comfortingly. "Let me see."

Me, writing this thing ^^

I can't wait to share it with you guys!!!

#dc titans #tv: titans #dcu titans #titans hbo max #titans hbo #titans season 4 #titans #titans fic #dickkory #graysonfam #dick grayson #rachel roth #kory anders #garfield logan #dick x kory

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redorich · 4 years

Note

Eventually the Hermits get their hands on the one shulker box. They give it back a day later, filled with goodies as an apology for stealing, because they just needed it briefly so Doc could set up a shulker box duplicator.

(2/2) To expand on the shulker box ask I sent: It's cheating. They know it's cheating. They debate for a while over wether or not they should build it. But desperate times call for desperate measures, and dammit they need shulkers. Mules and Llamas can only get them so far.

---

(this takes place before the fic where puffy finds zedaph.)

---

The Hermits put up with mule highways and caravans of spitting llamas because they think they have no choice. At least one person complains about the lack of sophisticated storage transportation daily. Mumbo tries to create a system which will ferry items between bases, but it turns out to be more of a Rube Goldberg machine than anything, considering the items only travel at the speed of the water which carries them. Zedaph creates an actual Rube Goldberg machine for item transportation, but the only people who use it are himself and his neighbors, Impulse, False, and Tango. It’s more for prank transportation and snail mail anyway.

Things change when Stress, on a covert surface run, comes a bit too close to other humans on accident and catches sight of a blond man in a hoodie furtively checking his surroundings. Stress immediately does as she’s been trained, hiding herself behind tree cover and checking how long her invisibility potion will be in effect for. It says four minutes. As long as he leaves soon, she won’t have an issue.

The man surveys the muddy clearing with a keen eye, keeping watch for any evildoing interlopers. He places down an Ender chest, reaches his hands into it, then looks around once again to make sure no one’s there. Stress’s heart beats like a drum-- not the style of drums she usually plays, but rather the percussion of one of Xisuma’s favorite black metal bands. As the man’s gaze passes right over her, she feels the machine gun fire of her heart against her chest peak, breath catching in her throat.

He doesn’t see her. Quickly, he pulls something out of the Ender chest. A shulker box!

Stress’s breath stops for an entirely different reason. The things the Hermits could do with even one shulker box..! Item dupers are a thing, right? If anyone knows how to make an item duplication machine, it would be Doc. And a shulker box might be useful for an item duping machine!

She’s getting ahead of herself. Should she steal from this person? Can she steal from this person? Even disregarding the moral dilemma, the members of the Dream SMP are fighters through and through. She’s got the advantage of surprise because she’s invisible and this man doesn’t know she’s here, but how long will that last? Even if she manages to take it, what if the blond man (Punz, she thinks is his name) kills her and takes the shulker box back from her?

As Stress weighs the risks and the rewards, she knows she’s running out of time. Punz breaks the shulker box. Right as he’s about to put it back in his Ender chest, Stress, who can see the window of opportunity closing, springs into panicked action.

She sprints right past Punz, hoping with every fiber of her being that her invisibility potion will be enough to save her. Snatching the box right out of Punz’s hands, Stress takes off running. Punz shouts, swinging his sword wildly at the air. He’s so close that a few strands of hair, just barely the tips, get sheared off of Stress’s fluffy mane and become visible as they flutter to the ground.

Punz’s eyes narrow, tracking the potion particles that he can just barely see. Unfortunately for him, the invisible thief takes off into the mob-infested forest. He gives chase, but the thief gains on him every time he has to stop to fight a mob.

Stress knows she can’t outrun Punz. She’s not bad, but he’s really good. Stress absolutely cannot lead this man back to the canyon. Allowing the hostile mobs of the forest to buy her time by slowing Punz down, Stress looks around rapidly, searching for something, anything she can do to lose the hunter on her trail.

A lone cow catches her eye. Thinking fast, she bites her lip as she dumps her only water bucket out into a nearby pond where it won’t be noticed, then milks the cow. In the distance, a zombie groans as Punz takes it out. Stress hyperventilates, frantically digging at the ground beneath her feet with a silk touch shovel. Once she’s created a hole just barely big enough for her to hide in, she hops in and puts the grassy dirt she dug up just seconds ago above her head and immediately downs the milk, so that there won’t be any potion particles to track her by.

Slowly, carefully, and as quiet as she possibly can, she digs up the dirt beneath her feet in absolute darkness. Logically, Stress knows that Punz won’t be able to see the light from her torch, but she’s too terrified to think logically. What has she done?!

Her shovel stills as angry feet stomp above her. Dirt crumbles into her hair when Punz walks directly above her. Caustic mutters faintly reach her ears through the loamy earth, fading farther and farther away as Punz searches in vain for the invisible thief. Stress waits with bated breath for minutes on end, hands shaking like leaves in a hurricane.

Tentatively, she digs up the diorite block below her with a pickaxe. A mob shifts aboveground and Stress, paralyzed with the paranoia that it might be Punz, spends another five minutes in immobile silence. Burying her face in her hands, she sucks in a breath and continues digging. Once she hits a decently low y-level, she digs forward, taking care to place all her blocks behind her exactly as they were before she mined them.

After a solid three hundred blocks, she begins to staircase back up. On one unfortunate swing of her pick, water floods into her staircase. She must be under a lake or a sea. She can make out some kelp, though, so hopefully that’ll be enough cover for her to go up and check her surroundings.

Stress takes a deep breath and plunges into the cold water. Swimming up, she catches sight of wood-- no way. There is no way she’s made it to the docks just outside of the canyon. Eagerly, she swims back down into her staircase for a breath of air and the chance to down an invisibility potion, then back up to the surface.

On the entire journey from the bottom of the sea to the elevator on the other side of the canyon, she expects someone to catch her, to notice the water she’s dripping on the ground, to somehow sense the guilt emanating off her in waves. It doesn’t happen. Stress makes it to the elevator and pushes the down button eagerly. Every foot the elevator descends down is another thousand pounds of weight off her shoulders. She’s exhausted, and so close to home base. If she can just make it into the Atrium, she’ll have succeeded.

The elevator dings, rousing Stress from her daydreaming. “I really am dead on my feet, ain’t I?” she murmurs to herself.

She makes her way into one of the village houses, avoiding the pressure plates and tripwires which she knows like the back of her hand by now. In the house, she presses a button, which opens a door which leads to a tunnel. Sagging in relief, Stress practically melts across the floor as she traverses the short tunnel and finally makes it into Atrium 1-- a large circular room with a rounded ceiling and plenty of light.

“Woah, Stress!” Ren exclaims, running to support her. The dark circles under his eyes make him look as exhausted as she feels. He’s been working round the clock at the tree farm to churn out enough wood to meet the demands of twenty-four Hermits.

“Stress?” Ren asks with concern in his eyes, gently shaking Stress’s shoulders.

She laughs, high-pitched and wild. She’s done it. She’s really gone and done it!

“I got a shulker box,” she breathes.

Ren gasps. “What?! No way, they’re not even a thing on this server!”

“Yes they are,” Stress sing-songs, “because I have one.”

She tosses him the cyan shulker box with a look of pride on her face. Ren looks at the box in his hands, then back up at Stress with wide eyes.

“We gotta go show Xisuma, my dude.”

---

The Hermits convene in the small meeting room in the residential district, then realize that the room is in fact small and twenty-four Hermits aren’t going to fit in it. Xisuma’s having a good day, so he decides to hold the meeting in Atrium 1.

There are many different opinions on the acquisition of the shulker box, which sits innocently in the center of the room. Some people like Wels believe that even if it’s a great boon, it was stolen and therefore the Hermits don’t have the right to use it. Things were different when they first arrived in the canyon; they stole small things in order to survive. A shulker is nice to have, but the Hermits won’t die without it. On the other hand, there are people who side with Grian, who believes that since the Hermits already have the shulker box, they might as well use it.

Doc rumbles a deep hm, indicating that he’s debating with himself whether he should say something or not. Finally, it seems that the side of him which wants to tell his fellow Hermits wins out.

“Have you guys considered shulker box duping?” he says. Immediately, there is a clamor of outcries, both for and against, as well as just plain disbelieving.

Tango speaks up: absolutely not. It’s cheating. False tentatively rebuts, though, that sometimes cheating is acceptable when it's for a good cause. After all, part of her season 7 base was dug out using TNT dupers. Mumbo awkwardly raises his hand and waits for someone to acknowledge him, which Grian does.

“Er… what if we give it back after we’re done with it?” Mumbo says. Tango still looks unhappy, but the idea seems to appease Wels.

“Friends,” Xisuma says softly. Everyone quiets down immediately. “Should we have a civil vote, or shall I decide?”

Immediately, everyone gets shamed into behaving. “We can vote,” Bdubs says. “Everyone in favor of not cheating?”

“Wait, what are our options?” Grian asks.

“Er,” Scar speaks up. “Keeping the box but not duping it, giving the box back, duping it then giving it back, or duping it and not giving the original back. Is that right?”

Bdubs nods. “Yeah! So, all in favor of keeping the one original box?” A few hands go up, maybe five or six.

“Giving the box back?” More hands go up.

“Duplicating the box, then giving it back?” Nearly a dozen hands go up.

“Well then,” Bdubs says, “I guess I don’t have to finish the options; dupe-and-return wins.”

Doc strides into the center of the room and mines up the shulker box before anyone can change their mind; Tango grumbles good-naturedly at having lost the vote. Meanwhile, while everyone discusses the vote, Joe ferries Xisuma off to his quarters.

“So who’s going to give the shulker box back when we’re done with it, my dudes?” Ren asks the room at large.

“I will,” Stress says immediately. “I stole it; it’s only right that I give it back.”

---

Two days later, Punz wakes up to a noise in his house. He reaches for a knife under his pillow; just because there is no one to be seen doesn’t mean that no one’s there, as Punz is well aware given the theft of his shulker box, which he is still smarting over.

He gets out of bed, treading softly. Right there, in the doorway, is the same shulker box he lost! He looks around. This has to be a trap. No one is around… Punz might as well spring this trap.

He opens the box. Nothing is missing. In fact, there are more items inside than there were when it was stolen from him! A totem of undying, four diamond blocks, two ingots of netherite, and a note which reads, Sorry I stole your box! I only needed to borrow it, but I felt bad so I left some extra goodies in. xoxo

“...Huh?” Punz says to himself. This is the weirdest prank ever.

He puts the box back into his Ender chest and resolves to think about it in the morning.

561 notes · View notes

theshireisburning-so-mordoritis · 3 years

Text

Ocean Blue, Eyes Of Green

Bonus day for the Seven Nights Of Sin - Series Two

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x F!Reader

Prompt: 2. "Maybe I should fuck you right here so everyone knows who you belong to." Requested by: @bruhidkthough333444

Word Count: 2.7K

Warnings: 18+. Smut. Mentions of oral sex (m and f recieving). Outdoor sex. Public sex. Unprotected p in v sex. Slightly jealous/possessive Whiskey.

He can't keep his hands off you.

It's been too long, three stretched out months on a mission away from the woman he loves. Three months without the feel of your warm, silken skin beneath his hands, the salty sweet taste of you on his tongue.

He's beyond starved, rabid for anything you're willing to give. He'd booked this get away to spoil you and show you how much he appreciates his sweet wife, the love of his life that always welcomes him home with a soft smile and tender caresses.

Jack always feels guilty that it's hard for you, being apart for so long so often. He hates how your heart aches when he leaves, that you feel the same choking feeling he experiences every damn time because of him. But you never once complain or resent him for his loyalty to his job and he loves you for that more than he could ever hope to explain. Wants to show you just how much your love means to him.

He knows how much you love the ocean so he's rented a cosy little beach house for just the two of you for three weeks. Three whole weeks where he can worship you like the goddess you are and give you his 100% undivided attention. It makes the long stints away from you worth it, to see the way your eyes light up after he removes his hand when he leads you in. The way you flit from room to room before sprinting out onto the porch to gaze longingly at the sea.

He'd followed you out with a smitten grin spread across his face, strong arms winding around your waist and pulling you tight to his chest as he'd whispered softly against your temple.

"You like it darlin'?"

His heart had skipped a few beats when you'd tilted your face up to his, the lights from inside shining across your pretty eyes before they'd fluttered closed as you pressed an achingly sweet kiss to his lips, sighing.

"Oh Jack, it's perfect."

It's supposed to be a relaxing time for the two of you to just enjoy being in each other's company but he's not sure relaxing is the right word for it when he can't seem to stop gorging himself on you.

He should be exhausted. You've fucked on every possible surface in the first couple of days alone and yet he's still ravenous for more. It's filthy the way you're constantly wound around each other, marks painting both of your bodies and the scent of each of you buried into the other's skin.

Even when you wobble on weakened legs to the shower to wash off the remnants of another round of lovemaking he can't resist following, stepping into the spray of water behind you and dropping to his knees to bury his face in your sore, drenched folds.

He feels insatiable, but the manic hunger is hardly one sided. Each time he thinks he may have worn you out completely you reach for him again and again, eyes bright and needy as you whimper his name.

"Jack baby I need you."

"I've got you sugar, don't you worry."

The sight of you in a bikini should come with a serious warning Jack decides.

It makes his mouth run dry seeing you stretched across the towel, propped up on your elbows as you watch him saunter towards you from the water. The two piece you wear isn't anything special, plain black and hardly indecent but the material wraps around you beautifully, frames your features all pretty in a way that makes it impossible not to look at you and feel that familiar stirring in his belly.

Your skin shimmers from the sweet smelling sun lotion you'd applied back at the beach house and his eyes follow the sheen of it over the dips of your collar bones, the swell of your breasts and down the slope of your stomach to hidden place between your perfect legs.

He can still taste you on his tongue from this morning, the memory of waking up to your hot little mouth bobbing on his cock before he'd had you shimmy round and ride his face until the both of you trembled with pleasure is still fresh in his mind.

The tang of you has kept him half hard for hours, his shorts edging the line of too tight especially now when they're plastered to his skin. The way you bite your lip to failingly hide the smirk on your face tells him you know exactly what the sight of you is doing to your man.

And you're revelling in it.

"See something you like cowboy?" You purr at him, tilting your head to watch him with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

"Only the prettiest fuckin' thing on the entire beach darlin'."

You laugh, a low, sultry thing that makes his breath catch and his cock throb. He watches you hungrily as you let your legs fall open and beckon him to you, going without thought and climbing over your body to sink into you with a husky chuckle as his chilly skin and wet shorts presses against your warmth.

"Is that so baby?" You grin, moaning softly when his lips crush against yours and he slips his tongue into your mouth. You shiver and wind your arms round his neck, pulling him closer as he slides the muscle along yours, curling and stroking whilst you rub against the heavy bulge pressed against your sex.

"Mhm. And I'm not the only one who noticed." He growls into your mouth. "Folk have been staring at you as they walk past, nearly tripping over their own damn feet trying to get a closer look at what's mine."

He feels the way you shudder beneath him, knows you always get hot and bothered when he gets a little posessive. It drives him wild, his hands digging into the flesh of your hips a little deeper, he'd seen the looks guys had given you as they'd walked past you sunbathing and it made something hot and feral swirl in his chest. They could look all they wanted, at the end of the day you'd chose him and you loved when he reminded you exactly why.

"Yeah? Maybe you need to do something about that Jack."

Fuck. His hips jerk as you press harder against cock, your arms unwinding from his neck so you can rake your nails down is back. He grits his teeth to keep his composure as you circle your hips under his, sweet jesus you'll be thae death of him, and drops his head into the crook of your neck.

His hand slides up your body to tilt your chin up, allowing him to kiss along the heated skin of your neck and nip sharply at the patch of skin where your pulse flutters rapidly beneath it. He grins proudly when you hands tighten on his shoulders as your breath hiccups in your throat, sucking a dark mark into already tender area.

"I think you're right darlin'." He rasps, nudging your chin with his nose before nipping the flesh gently with his teeth. "Maybe I should fuck you right here so everyone knows who you belong to."

He ruts into you as your legs tighten around his hips, the tension in his body coiling tight as he waits to see if you'll agree or if you'll tell him to wait until you're somewhere more private. He's fucked you in plenty of risky places before but never somewhere quite so open and he wants to make sure you're 100% comfortable with it before he takes this any further.

A wicked groan tears through his throat when your fingers slip into his hair and wrench his head back to look at you.

"Is that what you want Jack?" You breathe. "You want to fuck me where anyone could see? Want people to hear me scream your name as you make a mess of me on your cock."

His Adam's apple bobs frantically when he swallows, his throat bared to you and his eyes burning desperate as you slide your other hand between your bodies and palm his hard length through his soaked shorts.

The noise he makes is almost inhuman in his ears, loud and broken as his mouth drops open and his body jolts.

"Sweetheart - fuck."

You reach a little lower and cup his balls through the thin material, rolling them gently in the palm of your hand as you watch him heavy lidded beneath the flutter of your lashes.

"Say it Jack." You comand softly and he groans. "I want to hear exactly what you want."

At your words, something in Jack suddenly snaps.

Faster than he can think, his hand is ripping yours away from his shorts, pinning you to the sand and thrusting against your clothed sex hard. He swallows your choked cry with a bruising kiss, his tongue snaking into your mouth whilst you moan and pant his name and tangling heatedly with yours.

"You want to know what I want to do to you sweetheart?" He snarls against the wet slick of your lips, his fingers clenching tight around your wrists. "I want to fuck that perfect pussy of yours until you can't take no more, make you drench me as you cum over and over on my cock, crying my name for the entire damn ocean to hear."

You moan all pretty and strung out beneath him, your hips rocking desperately into his for some kind of friction and he nearly gives in and buries himself in you then. But he's not done teasing you just yet.

"Want to fill you up until your pussy struggles to keep it all in." He continues. "Watch it drip out around my cock and paint your thighs so there's no mistaking you're mine."

"Fuck, Jack - Yes! Yes, yes, yes. Mark me up baby - I need it, fuck me please."

Your begging shreds any desire to tease you any further. His fingers leave your wrists, shoving between so he can rip his shorts down just enough to free his aching cock and hitching your bikini bottoms to the side.

He nearly loses it at the sight of you, all slick and glossy with need for him as he slides the blunt head of his cock through your folds, knudging it over your swollen clit to pull another sweet moan from your lips before he plunges forward and sinks himself down to the hilt.

You cry out against his mouth as he kisses you hungrily and it rolls through him like molten honey. He slams into you like he wishes to bury you both deep into the sand, his hips surging deep into the cradle of your pelvis with an unshakeable force that has you clenching tight around each drag of his cock through your walls and your nails biting hard into the meat of his shoulders.

He yanks one of the cups of your top to the side, his lips decending upon the heated skin of your breast and sucking a stiffened bud into his mouth. He rolls it against his tongue, lapping at the peak whilst you arch into him and mewl his name. You're getting close, he can feel it, the fluttering of your pussy and the way your legs tremble as they try and lock around his waist even tighter to drag him in deeper.

"Let them hear it baby, let everyone know how good your husband makes you feel." He murmurs into the flesh of your breast, angling his hips so he grazes your clit with each snap of his hips.

It's nearly blinding when you cum hard around his cock, your body shaking and broken cries spilling from your lips whilst he pounds into your clenching heat. He feels the rush of silky liquid soak him, a choked moan rattling his throat as your pussy sucks him in deeper and you wind yourself around him blissfully tight.

He watches in awe as your head falls back, your lips parted and eyes fluttering closed in ecstasy, the rapid pulse of your heartbeat visible beneath the thin stretch of skin on your neck. It makes fire spike through his gut, the need to make you shatter apart again searing. He needs to feel your pussy squeeze him tight once more and milk him of all he's worth, feels like he'll go mad without it.

You moan hoarsely when he gathers you into his arms and rocks back into a kneeling position, hauling your boneless form onto his lap. Your eyes are dreamy and glazed when you wrap your arms around his neck and gaze at him and it makes his chest burn with pride, his thrusts growing fiercer than the languid pace he'd set whilst moving you.

"Oh god Jack." You pant, the hazy stupor of your previous orgasm splintering his thick length spears up into you.

You're trembling in his arms, like every stab of his cock into your pulsing walls is bleeding electricity through your veins.

"Just one more sweet thing." He pleads, his voice tight as heat wells up in his belly, fire licking up his spine as the wet slap of skin echoes between you. "Think you can do that sugar, give me one more?"

He curses softly when you nod, a desperate jerk of your head as you whimper for him, and then he's kissing you like he'd die if he doesn't get any closer. One of his hands is tangled in the hair at the nape of your neck, the other pressing you harder against him as he roughly rolls his hips into you.

He feels frantic, fraying apart at the seams as you match each one of his brutal thrusts, bouncing hard on his cock and arching against the sweat slicked planes of his chest. He almost falters when you scream his name, growing harder than he thought was possible as you clamp down, tighter and wetter when his cock pounds against that sweet spot inside you.

His hand drops from your hair to your hip, pinning you down on him so he can wreck that same place again and again. The praise falls from his lips as you gasp and choke, your fingers clawing at his shoulders, his neck and finally burying into his hair as you fling your head back.

"Fuck that's it baby - my pretty little wife, you're so fuckin' perfect. Just look at you - you're so fuckin' wet, feel like an absolute dream sweetheart. Cum now for me honey."

Your scream cracks in your throat as your cunt squeezes him devastating tight. The hot gush of your release spilling over him whilst he groans, burying his head in the valley between your breasts as his pace becomes sloppy and erratic before the coil snaps in his gut and he's filling you with streams of warmth.

Neither of you can move when his body begins to shake and he drops you both back onto the towel.

You're stroking his hair, placing soft kisses along his hairline as he pants into the damp skin of your neck. When he finally lifts his head, dopey grin playing on his lips, you're already smiling down at him, eyes soft and so warm he feels his heart flutter in his chest.

"How'd I get so damn lucky to have you marry me." He murmurs, watching you lovingly as you pretend to ponder an answer.

"I believe there was some ridiculous gestures and a lot of begging on your part, in the end I just kinda gave in and-" Your teasing is cut off by a fit of giggles at his indignant hey!, writhing beneath him as he tickles your side with a merciless smile.

"Okay, okay! Stop!" You laugh, tears glistening in your eyes and he doesn't think he could possibly love you anymore than he does right now.

"You love me Mrs Daniels, admit it." He taunts smugly as he hovers over your body, allowing you to pull him back into your warmth as you press a soft kiss to his lips.

"With all my heart Jack."

He melts against your lips and shudders as you wind around him again, your hips pressing tight to his and making him twitch inside you. There's no doubt in his mind that your his just as much as he is yours.

He just likes to prove it every chance he gets.

Taglist: @autumnleaves1991-blog @ecuadorlady @justanotherblonde23 @readsalot73 @gingerbreadandpaper @acourtofsnakes @tiffanyblew @alexmarie29 @cookiecat22 @ophelialoveshandsomemen @heythere-mel @quica-quica-quica @simsiddy @sfr99 @spideysimpossiblegirl

#agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x you #seven nights of sin series #kingsman imagine

186 notes · View notes

exosmutfactory · 3 years

Text

Six Phases FINALE Pt 1

Originally posted by sefuns

Who knew it nearly took 6 months to win your heart, and 6 phases for Baekhyun to lose his mind.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 P(1) P(2) | Part 4 P(1) P(2) | Part 5 P(1) P(2) | Part 6 P(1) P(2) —– P(3) P(4) —– P(5) P(6) ||| ♬♩♪♩ FINALE P(1)✓ P(2) (also on AFF)

networks — @supermwritersnet @/bbh-net

pairing — Baekhyun x Riley (OC)

word count — 28k+ (Finale part 1 - [19k] & 2 - [9k])

genre — ceo! baekhyun, playboy! baekhyun, strangers to lovers, hurt & comfort (heaven knows they need that comfort), slow burn! kinda

[ contains: angst, fluff, smut ]

A/N: Buckle up, loves. Here comes a long one. ♡ Let’s go! (^-^)

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

⏰🌹Six Phases Tag List: 🌹⏰

@to-all-the-stories-i-love @insta1010 @sorrowinblood @bellamendoza @bbhflrt @weirdoome

I was unable to tag one of you so I’ll DM you from @candyfizzbyun 💗💗💗

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

July is upon us before we know it, bringing forth more of the summer's blazing sunlight and smothering heat. Jenny's birthday is right around the corner, merely 3 days into the hottest month of the year. There's no wonder why she's throwing a party in a venue that has both a beautiful indoors and outdoors setting. The breezy summer-style dress code for the event is a given—and I plan to crash it with my wintry flare.

It's July 3rd, 90 degrees, and I'm strutting down the stone path leading up to the venue in a two piece velvet outfit. The wine color compliments my skin, hugging my body in all the right places. Between the bra-shaped, crop top that ties in the back and my waist-high pants with high slits to reveal my nude colored heels underneath, I feel like the baddest and sexiest woman up in this bitch.

"Riley!" Jenny beams the moment I step through the door, looking stunning in her light blue dress. It's a plain form-fitting dress, but nothing is simple about her wearing it. The light blue material goes well with the ocean hue of her eyes. The sleeveless, spaghetti-strapped fabric that wraps around her beautifully is the shortest dress I've ever seen on her—and Jongdae should feel like the luckiest man alive to see her like this all the time.

Her makeup is done perfectly, highlighting the softness of her round face and sharpening the gaze in her oval eyes. She nearly runs someone over when she comes barreling my way in her black heels with a drink in her hand.

I laugh at her excitement, accepting her hug without hesitation. "Hey, Jen."

"Hey," She smiles, pulling back a little to look at me. "You're early."

A little grin forms on my face; if only she knew. "I didn't want to risk any traffic jams," I explain, smiling more. She's practically buzzing with happiness.

"Ah," She nods, pursing her lips. "Maybe I should have chose a different time-"

"Hey," I place my hand on her shoulder, giving her a look. "Relax. Everything will be fine."

She sighs but nods, her owl-shaped, dangling-earrings sparkling prettily under the warm lights. "I hope no one else gets stuck."

"They won't," I shake my head, adding cheekily, "Especially Chanyeol, he drives like a madman."

"That big oaf," She mutters, a smile back on her face. Her blue eyes meet mine before she takes my hands between hers. "Come, I want to introduce you to someone."

"Oh?" I inquire, raising a brow as she leads me further into the venue. "This isn't one of those matchmaking situations is it?"

"No. Fuck men." She immediately rebukes, fire burning in her eyes. "I'm not dealing with anyone's bullshit. Not on my day."

"Damn straight," I mumble, amused at the disgruntled expression on her face. Jenny and Jongdae are back together—if you can call their last fight a breakup. Witnessing him show up on their doorstep with her favorite chocolate and a new plant to add to their home was a sight to see. He must have done something else for her to react this way though. I can't help but chuckle. Half a year later and he is still tiptoeing around her. That Haneul must be someone significant. My lips downturn at the thought.

"Eunjung! Eunjung!" Jenny's loud voice brings me back to the present. "Ugh, where is that woman?" She grumbles, searching the extravagant room. More partygoers are starting to stream in, filling up the building with every shade of the rainbow and then some. My eyes drift over to the fruit buffet on the long tables in the back when Jenny's eyes widen. "There she is!" She smiles, leading me over to the mini bar on the other side of the room.

I follow her line of sight, my heart dropping in the blink of an eye. It's the same woman I've been seeing around Baekhyun since May. Her once long black hair is now a short brown mohawk, the curly ends perfectly framing her oval shaped face.

"Eunjung, this is Riley." Jenny smiles, gesturing to me. "The wild child I've told you about," She jokes.

"Hello," Eunjung greets in a low voice, smiling warmly. She holds out her hand to me. "I've heard so much about you."

I can only shake her hand and smile back, glaring at Jenny out of the corner of my eye when Eunjung is distracted by the bartender bringing her a drink. "Nice to meet you."

Jenny takes a seat while I survey the room, making sure there aren't any heads of silver hair around. Jongin won't be coming tonight, he's busy preparing dance classes for the elementary students that he'll teach for the upcoming school year, so I keep my head on a swivel. As much as I consider Jenny one of my best friends, her ties with a certain someone cannot be ignored after what happened the last time we went to a party.

"How's Miss Eunae?" Jenny's question catches my attention, pulling me back into their conversation.

"She won second place in a dance competition last month."

"Really?!" Jenny gasps and I stiffen.

"Yeah, I couldn't make it." Eunjung smiles sadly, swirling the melting ice in her drink. "Thankfully her girlfriend could. And Baekhyun too."

"Wait," I interrupt, feeling wary when both their eyes focus on me. "You have a twin?"

"Yes. About my height, long black hair." Eunjung sets down her empty glass on the counter. "You might have seen her around before, that woman can't sit still to save her life."

"She has a girlfriend?"

Eunjung and Jenny share a brief, knowing glance before turning back to me. "Yes." Eunjung smiles.

I clear my throat, avoiding their dancing eyes. "Good for her."

"They've been together since high school." Jenny nudges me, a shit eating grin on her face.

"I'll be surprised if they marry before you and Jongdae though," Eunjung raises her hand to get the bartender's attention again. "Chaeyoung is always working overseas."

My chest vibrates. I pull my phone out of my secret breast pocket, tuning out the rest of their conversation.

Sat, 07/03 - 7:30pm

Heartbreaker 😑💔😄

Y'all ready?

Earth shaker 😝💞😊

Ready as I'll ever be!

Heartbreaker 😑💔😄

Kyungsoo?

Cake master 🤗🍰🙏🏼

You owe me for this shit

♡ ♡ ♡ R ♡ ♡ ♡

I promise to help you bake in his place

…

As long as Dae and Yeol pick up the groceries :')

Cake master 🤗🍰🙏🏼

Chanyeol delivers and Jongdae unpacks

I don't trust his clumsy ass anywhere near my produce

♡ ♡ ♡ R ♡ ♡ ♡

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Heartbreaker 😑💔😄

😂

Earth shaker 😝💞😊

Hey!

♡ ♡ ♡ R ♡ ♡ ♡

Ready guys?

Cake master 🤗🍰🙏🏼

Yes

Heartbreaker 😑💔😄

Yeah

Earth shaker 😝💞😊

Mmhm >:(

♡ ♡ ♡ R ♡ ♡ ♡

Let's go 🤫🎂🚚💨✨🥰

I can't help but chuckle, pocketing my phone. When I look up, Jenny is the only one sitting at the counter. "Hey," I frown, noticing the sad look on her face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," She mumbles.

"Come on," I rest my hand on her arm, trying to catch her eye. "I can't let the birthday girl mope. You can tell me."

A smile quirks at her lips. "I just…" She sighs, turning to me. "I can't believe Jongdae is busy with work today."

"Awe," mimicking her poked out bottom lip, I nudge her softly. "Well, I guess you're just stuck with me—Deal with it."

"Riley!"

I burst out into laughter, back hugging her when she playfully pushes me away. "Hey, don't lose hope, yeah? He might surprise you."

"No he won't," She mumbles, full on pouting now. "He never surprises me."

"Well," Making eye contact with a certain mischievous brunette on the other side of the room, I tap her shoulder. "Maybe that will change today."

Jenny turns her head and gasps, leaping off of her bar stool. "Chanyeol? Kyungsoo? Jongdae?!?!?!?!"

Everyone in the room watches on with smiles on their faces, but Jongdae's is the brightest of all. "Hey, babe," He beams, opening his arms.

Jenny sprints over to him, colliding so hard with his body that she almost sends them both to the floor. But Jongdae takes it all in stride, holding her close while bellowing that signature laugh of his.

Smiling at them, I quickly walk over to help Kyungsoo and Chanyeol roll in the food cart. "Hey guys, everything okay?"

"We made it all in one piece," Kyungsoo mutters, glancing at the tall dome plate cover. "The cake too."

"Three different chocolates?"

"Mmhm."

"Perfectly symmetrical?"

"Yep," Yeol chimes in.

I grin, "She's going to love it."

"She's going to love you, you mean." Chanyeol sets his shining eyes on me. "How did you even know all this?"

I give him a small, secretive smile, "I have my resources." His grin only widens. "Did the gifts come in today?"

Kyungsoo nods, "Right on time."

"The delivery man showed up just as we were packing the cake into the back of the truck," Chanyeol chuckles, nearly tripping over the edge of a carpet. Kyungsoo and I look at him with our respective wide and narrowed eyes.

"Huh," I purse my lips, nodding in approval. "Now that is some high class two-day shipping." They both hum in agreement, Kyungsoo straightening out the table cloth before they begin to set the cake onto the round table.

"You guys good?" I look between them when they succeed in placing it down. Thank god for that; if that cake falls to the floor that's all our necks.

Kyungsoo nods, "Go on." He gives me a look that's hard to identify. "He's coming too."

"Oh," My heart leaps at the thought. Oh. Shit. He's coming. I should have expected as much, but to actually hear it makes it ten times more real... Shit. "I-Imma just…" I point behind me to the backdoor, slowly walking backward. "You know."

They nod, Chanyeol's eyes holding a hint of sadness. "It's okay. We got everything covered."

"Thank you," I breathe, smiling apologetically. Spinning on my heel, I hurry as fast as my high heels allow to the door. With one last glance back to make sure Jenny is okay, I slip out into the summer night.

Music from within the venue spreads out into the backyard, but it's much quieter out here. I survey the area, making sure no one else is around. Not that I am against anyone being outside, I've just had enough social interaction for one evening… and the night has barely begun.

Sighing to myself, I walk further out onto the patio, my lips quirking up at the light blue cushions on the chairs. Jenny planned this event to the Tee, huh? I chuckle, sighing softly.

The deck is a nice light gray shade, contrasting against the black base of the table and lounge chairs. Running my eyes over them, I hum, choosing to lean against the table instead.

Pain buds in my chest when my thoughts wander. I shouldn't care—I really shouldn't but… Even after everything. Even after all this time, it hurts to think of him with anyone else. The thought of him holding someone in his arms, in his home, in his heart… It crushes me to the core. It eats me up on the inside. It keeps me up at night.

I shouldn't care, yet every time I hear his name, every time I see his face... I go back to that January night, and I regret it every single time.

No matter how hard I try, my head is constantly full of 'what ifs.' What if I stayed? What if he was willing to change? What would we be right now if I hadn't walked away?

I love—I loved Baekhyun with all my heart…

Can I really move on from this? Will I ever wake up one day and not imagine his sleeping face next to mine?

He could still have someone already for all I know, but for tonight… I rather tell myself that he is alone.

Leaning my elbows on the patio table, I watch the sunset, admiring the pink and orange hues streaking across the blue sky.

"You're staring."

"I love admiring art."

"So I'm an object now?"

The unmistakable love in his sparkly brown eyes… "You are the source," He pauses, holding my heart in his warm smile, "Of my love and affection."

My heart squeezes in earnest. God… why does this hurt so much? Why do his words linger in my mind and actions take hold of my heart? When will it end? When will it fucking end—

"Miss?" A low, raspy voice startles me.

I spin around, staring at the culprit with narrowed eyes. They widen as I take in the man in front of me.

The first thing I notice is his sharp jawline, leading up to his thin lips that curl up at the ends, reminding me a little of Jongdae. My eyes trail up further, taking in his tall nose with a rounded tip, his prominent cheekbones and narrow eyebrows. His slicked back, brown hair shows his broad forehead, and then—

His eyes…

They are the darkest shade of brown that I've ever seen, their almond shape perfectly suiting the rest of his face. They appear black in the dim light of the setting sun. Looking into them has me feeling many things, wondering what story those dark pools of molten hot coffee hold.

"Are you alright?" He asks, his low voice in a husky tone that I'm slowly getting used to hearing… until I feel the drop that lands on my cheek.

"Oh—yeah!" I inwardly curse, hastily rubbing the tear from my cheek. "I-It's just, you know... allergies."

He nods and I cringe on the inside because I know he can tell that I'm completely bullshitting him right now. "What are you doing out here?" He inquires, tilting his head. His tone of voice isn't judging or hostile, it's more… caring. And sweet. I wish I could read his eyes though...

"Needed a breather," I shrug, repositioning myself in a more attractive manner. I am not about to let some stranger see me hanging out back here like a socially awkward potato on top of everything else—I refuse. "You?"

"Business call," He murmurs distractedly, repocketing his vibrating phone.

"Oh," I inwardly roll my eyes. Right. As if I don't have enough business men in my life.

"The Tech team found a corrupted file," He sighs, checking his expensive gold watch. "They don't know how bad it is yet… The film might have to be delayed."

Film? I perk up at that. "You help film movies?"

He smiles, glancing up at me, a lock of hair falling over his eye. "I'm the director."

A very casual one at that; I note, taking in his outfit. He's decked out in a light blue denim jacket and a white t-shirt, but I know those aren't cheap. Nope, I've seen enough of Baekhyun's cotton shirts to—

"What's the theme?" I blurt out, curling my hand into a fist as I lean further back on the table. "Classified information?" I raise a brow, smirking at his speechless face.

"Aish…" He closes his mouth, smiling a little. "Something like that."

"Eh," I shrug, smiling softly. "I can respect that."

The temperature suddenly starts to drop. A chilly wind blows, ruffling the ends of his hair. The scent of something I haven't encountered before reaches my nose. Bourbon and vanilla; citrus and peach... It's hard to describe, but it creates an aroma that catches my attention.

"What's your name?" I tilt my head, my eyes widening at the sparkle that reflects in his dark eyes from the last rays of the setting sun.

His eyes widen before he points to himself. "Me?"

"Who else, silly?" I laugh, holding back a snort, a smile tugging at my lips at the sheepish look on his face. He's pretty cute, I'll give him that.

He clears his throat, looking away. "Jackson."

I fight back my smile seeing how flustered he is. "I'm Riley." A thought occurs to me for a moment… What is a business man—director doing here? This is an invitation-only event, and I helped Jenny painstakingly arrange the guest list... "How do you know Jenny?"

"Hmm?" Jackson blinks, flickering his eyes back to mine. "Oh!" He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. "She's an old friend."

"Oh," My eyes narrow in the last rays of sunlight.

"We kept in contact after her and Yugyeom split," He explains, and the apologetic expression on his face has my eyes widening again. Did he just see through me? Uh—Wait.

"Oh my god, Yugyeom?—Kim Yugyeom?"

"Yes…" He trails off, looking me over carefully. "Do you know him?"

Do I know him? My reddening cheeks are enough of an explanation. "Not really," I laugh awkwardly, standing up fully. Alright, I've had enough human interaction for today. Between him, the discovery of Eunjung's twin not seeing Baekhyun, meeting someone who is friends with that tall guy I was drooling over months ago, and having to keep Jenny's birthday surprise a secret all week, I'm drained. Time to go—

A crack of thunder echoes across the sky, and then the bottom drops, rain drenching us in seconds.

Well shit… Did none of us check the weather for today? I rack my brain for answers, trying to remember—oh... Oh. Jenny… likes… thunderstorms…

The rain continues to pour, soaking my velvet outfit and flattening my hair without remorse. It won't melt me, but the venue is a city away from Seoul and if I don't hurry home now...

"Well!" I turn away to hide the bitter smile on my face, pushing off of the slippery table. "Time for me to go. Nice meeting you, Jackson."

"Wait-"

I puff up my cheeks, blowing the air out as my hair sticks messily to my forehead. Fighting the urge to brush it back is difficult, but if there's one thing I know about my hair when it's wet, it's the agony that comes with ruffling it up. I rather not cry while detangling it when it's air dried later—

A yank on my arm makes me yelp, my head slamming into something hard when thunder cracks across the sky again, followed by the horrifying crackle of lightning. My head snaps up, eyes squinting against the onslaught of rain. I can barely make out Jackson's face, his features twisted in concern with his hair mattered to his forehead like a mop. The sheer amount of fear in his wide eyes has me more than confused. I take a look around, my heart stopping right in its tracks.

The doorknob of the back door sizzles, steam floating from it in a cloud of smoke. The crack from a lightning bolt visible as the rain washes the spark away.

My face pales when I look back up at the man in front of me.

Jackson steps back, steading me with his hands on my arms when my knees buckle. "Sorry," He clears his throat. "I tried to warn you but-"

"Thank you," I mumble, moving away when I find my balance again. "That could have been…" My head spins at the thought, "Bad."

He nods with a concerned frown, worry written all over his handsome features.

"...Well!" I clear my throat, giving him a small smile. "Thanks again for saving me, stranger." I joke, my eyes shooting down when I feel something rough shielding my shoulders from the rain. "Oh-" They snap back up to meet his, "You don't have to-"

"Keep it." He shakes his head, placing his denim jacket fully on my shoulders. "You're shivering."

"I…" My face is so hot the rain does nothing to cool me down. "Thank you."

Jackson smiles, shoving his hands into his pockets. "No problem." He starts walking backwards, glancing up at the sky before propping open the back door with his leather boot.

"Wait!" I blurt, blushing all the way up to my ears when he looks back at me, having to raise my voice over the unmerciful wind. "H-How will I return it without your number?"

A shy yet boyish grin forms on his face. "Not here."

"Huh?" I blink.

Jackson smiles even more, holding the door open before giving a little bow and outstretching his hand to me. "Ladies first."

A dozen thoughts race through my head while looking at his waiting hand, the action so familiar my heart tugs painfully in my chest. Smiling my prettiest smile, I place my palm in his.

•••

I forgot how refreshing it is to talk to someone new. Stepping out of my comfort zone to get to know a person outside of my friend group—an attractive person at that.

Texting Jackson is a treat. He's a man of high intellect, giving me great advice with years of director experience under his belt. The most shocking thing is that he is only 24—24! Two years older than me. He breaks my dating rule of pursuing anyone less than 4 years older than me, but his maturity makes up for it. Age doesn't define maturity as I have come to realize after a certain someone.

He's super sweet too. We haven't been able to see each other in person since Jenny's party last month, but a day hasn't gone by where we haven't texted. And boy does he text—the most flustering things that is. Jackson has a way with words that makes my heart squeeze in giddiness and me hide behind my hand while peeking at my screen.

He laughs at all of my jokes; he sends good morning and goodnight texts without fail. If nothing else, he is a great conversationalist who would make an even better companion, and I can't wait to see him again. I have a denim jacket hanging up in my closet to return, after all.

A knock on my office door brings me back to the present. I blink a few times, carefully reading over the email I've been working on for the past 20 minutes. "Come in," I permit, glancing at the time. The sight that greets me on the other side of the door when it opens stops my typing in its tracks.

Ms. Kim Eun, the newly appointed book editor, steps into the room, setting off my internal warning signals. Her outfit matches the company dress code, that isn't the problem here. No, it's the sheer amount of dread, sorrow, and fear coming off of her shuffling body in waves. "You asked to see me, Ma'am?" She inquires in the most broken of tones. A fragility I know very well.

"Yes." Saving my progress on the computer, I beckon her over with a reassuring smile. "Please, have a seat."

She slowly walks further into the room, sitting down in one of the leather chairs.

"Ms. Kim," I start as tentatively and professionally as possible, lacing my fingers together on top of my desk. "It has come to my attention that you have been behind on editing the book."

"Oh..." She mumbles, fidgeting with the purse in her lap. "I-I'm sorry, I-"

"I understand you might have other obligations and factors outside of work," I continue, reading her steadily panicking face like a book, "But we don't have a lot of time to get this novel done. We're on a tight schedule here."

"C-Can…" Her eyes lift from the purse in her hands, still holding onto it for dear life. "Can you do it for me?" She whispers.

I let out a short laugh. "No." Her eyes shake as my face hardens. "You were appointed as editor 3 weeks ago, correct?"

She nods, fear glimmering in her wide eyes.

"Your job is to edit the book," I remind her, my lips pressed into a thin line. "That's what you get paid for, that's your responsibility."

"But-"

"If I could do it myself, I wouldn't need to hire you." Her bottom lip starts to tremble; she's about to break. "If you can't do the job, I'm going to need you to put in your 2 weeks," I slide the slip of paper across the desk, "In early. Unless you can get half of the book done by Friday."

"T-That's only 3 days," She gasps, her voice wavering. "I can't-"

"You've had nearly a month in advance to work on it as an Intern." My voice lowers, "I'm sure you have plenty of time to catch up in-"

"I can't!" She wails loudly, hiding her face in her hands. "I-I'm not qualified for this position. I'm just a high school graduate with inside connections." She sobs, the dam of her built up emotions spilling over. "I didn't even finish English 12 with an A."

My clenched jaw ticks. I know she isn't faking it; she's been off for the past two weeks. It's her lack of sharing this important information that is getting to me. If she isn't qualified to take over the editing position, why the hell is she—my eyes widen and then narrow. Mrs. Park.

Looking at Eun, I finally understand. Her bowed head, slouched shoulders, and quiet hiccups dawning on me as clear as day.

"My boyfriend c-cheated on me with my best friend." She croaks sorrowfully. "He said that I deserved it, t-that I made him do it from working late all the time." She runs a hand through her hair, laughing brokenly, her tears leaving a trail of inky black mascara in their wake. "My editing isn't good anyway."

Reaching across the desk, I offer her my box of tissues. "I know how you feel," I mutter, keeping my voice even. "You feel lost, broken and tossed aside as if a part of you is gone." She nods, sniffling while smearing the makeup under her eye. "You ask yourself how you will ever move on from it." Leaving the box on the edge of the desk, I meet her eyes again. "But you will move on." The conversation I had with Jongin in the studio that day comes to mind, quirking a small smile on my lips. "You will wake up one day and not think of them. As long as you want to. You shouldn't stay stuck on someone who has hurt you."

Tucking the resignation document into a drawer, I turn my sleeping computer back on. "You are worth more than how they've treated you, but you have to decide that for yourself."

"O-Okay," Eun sniffles, wiping her face. A couple tissues fall out of her hand, but her tears have stopped.

"Good." I lean back into my rollable leather chair with a stretch, smiling softly. "Let's settle this. Make me a list of your strengths and weaknesses."

Her wide eyes snap back up to mine. "I-"

"Now."

"Damn, Kyungsoo, how many of these cakes do you need in a day?" I sigh, my hands cramping up. We've been at it for hours, baking desserts at his restaurant because today is a national holiday. Funny how he let all his workers take the day off and here I am handling enough flour to make me sneeze in Jongdae's place.

Kyungsoo doesn't even look up at me, continuing to knead the dough in his hands. "I'd give an estimate but I don't want to overwhelm you."

I'd dramatically flop down into a chair if I wasn't molding a ball of my own dough, so I just groan instead. "You're killing me over here."

"Who offered to help me bake in Jongdae's place?" He raises a brow, shaping the churro in his hands with precession.

"It was all for the good of Jenny's last minute birthday cake!" I whine, starting to place a hand over my heart until I remember the torment I went through last time I got cake batter on this floral shirt. "Have you no heart?" I pout, giving him puppy eyes.

Kyungsoo slowly raises his head and I quickly get back to shaping the fancy doughnut in my hands without a word.

"So," I clear my throat, smiling sheepishly. "Did Dae and Yeol deliver everything okay?"

"They were late." Kyungsoo neatly arranges his perfectly shaped churros onto a tray, sliding them into the preheated oven. "Any later and the milk would have gone bad."

"Yikes," I wince, reaching to rub the back of my head only to pause mid-way, stopped by the wet flour sticking to my hand. "I should have helped more."

"Chanyeol would have slowed down to not give you motion sickness and then the cheese would have gone bad too." He points out.

"You sound a bit grumpy today," I note softly, glancing over at him again. "Did Chanyeol do something?" Kyungsoo starts another row of churros, staring blankly at me as he almost crushes the long sticks in his hands. "Okay, okay! I'll drop it, no need for the third degree. Spare the churro's life, please..."

"I'm going to ban him from my restaurant, I swear." He grumbles under his breath.

"At least he offered to help," I mumble, setting the last doughnut onto the non-stick pan. "How many more you got for me?" I ask, dusting off my hands.

Kyungsoo comes over to take the tray off of the counter. "None."

I raise a brow. "That's it?"

"No," He slides it in with the baking churros. "I'm sending you home."

I frown, "Why?"

"You're loud, chatty and keep dripping flour all over my floor." He deadpans. "And you're falling asleep."

Gawking at him for a few moments all I can do is huff. "I am not-"

"You're gonna get cake batter in your hair."

I flinch, putting my hand down at once. "Are you really kicking me out right now?" I mumble, blowing annoying strands of hair out of my eyes.

"You're fired." He wipes his clean hands with a towel and walks back over to turn on the sink for me. "Now go home and sleep."

"I don't even work here!"

He gives me a look.

"Alright, alright," I mutter, scrubbing flour from under my nails. "Fine. I'll be out of your hair-"

The chime on the door of the restaurant rings, capturing my attention. I crane my neck around to see who the hell is coming in here when there's obviously a "CLOSED" sign out front and it's freaking 9pm. My face pales at the black baseball cap and leather jacket figure stumbling through the door. I tug on the sleeve of the busy man next to me. Um, Kyungsoo-

They pull their hat off before they reach the middle of the restaurant, revealing a familiar flushed face and unmistakable silver hair.

Oh fuck no.

"I'm sorry I'm late, Kyungsoo," He mumbles, his head down while approaching the counter. "I got held up at the office and the traffic was-" His head snaps up just as I contemplate ducking out of view. "R-Riley…?" He whispers, his face paling. He looks like he's seen a ghost and I can't imagine I'm doing any better.

"You're late." Kyungsoo deadpans, busying himself with washing the used baking trays and utensils in the sink.

"I…" Baekhyun steps closer and I feel like I'm going to throw up. My heart isn't in my throat at this point, it's somewhere lost between my nose and my gag reflex.

"Have you been drinking?" Kyungsoo finally looks up from the spatula in his hands, his eyes narrowing at the lack of response.

Baekhyun's red face glows brighter under the harsh kitchen lights. He purses his lips, "No-"

"Where's your car?" Kyungsoo demands. "I'm not letting you drive."

"Kyungsoo, I'm fine," He rolls back on the heels of his feet, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. "You have an important client coming in tomorrow-"

"I don't care who the hell is coming tomorrow." Kyungsoo cuts him off, full-on glaring at him now. His normally calm voice growing deeper with anger by the second. "I'm not letting you drive-"

"I'll take him home," I mumble, shrinking in on myself when both their eyes snap over to me.

Kyungsoo frowns, "Riley-"

"I'm taking him home, Kyungsoo." I cross my arms, shaking my head at the disapproving expression on his stern face. "You have a huge event tomorrow, you sent your staff home, and your kitchen is covered in cake batter," I list off of my fingers, daring him to say another word. "His apartment is on the whole other side of town. I think we both know what's the best course of action here."

Kyungsoo stands there silently for a long moment, but I don't back down, merely arching a brow. "Are you sure you'll be alright?" He softens, not even acknowledging the other man in the room.

"Yeah." I smile, uncrossing my arms. "I know I'm a disaster with a knife but I know how to drive, Kyungsoo. You got to give me some credit here."

"Alright," He chuckles, smiling a little before shifting his eyes back to the man on the other side of the counter. "Don't cause her any trouble, you hear me?"

Baekhyun's dazed eyes widen, "I-"

"If you mess with a single hair on her head," Kyungsoo continues, lifting the butcher knife in his hands. "Say goodbye to your kids."

"I-I won't fucking!" Baekhyun tangles a hand in his messy hair, sucking in a deep breath. "I'm walking home."

"Oh no you aren't," I rebuke, rounding the counter.

He grits his teeth, spinning around on his heel, "I'm-"

"Yah, Baekhyun." Kyungsoo's deep voice cuts through the air.

Baekhyun freezes up, looking over his shoulder with wide eyes. "Y-Yes?-"

"Take this." Kyungsoo starts, slamming a couple bags full of food to his chest. "Shut the fuck up and let Riley take you home."

"I-" Baekhyun shakes his head, "I can still catch the bus. There's no need-" His face drains of color when he meets Kyungsoo's eyes again. If looks could kill, he'd be 6 feet under.

Kyungsoo turns back to me then, "If he gives you a hard time, call me, okay?"

"Yes, Kyungsoo," I immediately agree, fearful of his sour mood as well. Note to self: angry Kyungsoo is scarier than angry Jongin.

"Good," He grumbles but smiles, patting my arm before walking back to the kitchen. "I'll save some of the churros for you."

"Thank you!" I beam at him, waving until he walks into the backroom. My smile doesn't fade, my cheeks starting to hurt until I feel a certain someone's stare on the back of my head. Oh shit.

Slowly turning around, I drag my eyes up to look into the most beautiful puppy eyes in the world, my heart going into overdrive.

"Hey," Baekhyun whispers.

A sad smile quirks on my lips, "Hi." Sighing a little, I take a look around, hanging up my apron and retrieving my hidden purse from the back of a chair at one of the extravagant dining tables. "Let's go."

Baekhyun nods, following me out of the restaurant. I open the door and hold it for him until he reaches the doorstep. We may not be on good terms, but that doesn't mean I'll just let a door slam in his face.

…

I most definitely should have let that door slam in his face.

Shaking off my aggressive thoughts, I take a deep breath and power walk to my car, shivering in the cold wind. It's the middle of July and a tropical storm has blown in, bringing its cold rains and chilling nights with it. Trust Seoul to have these extreme temperature changes, I should have kept my ass back in the South.

Baekhyun doesn't say a word as we make it to my red Porsche. I unlock the car when we are a few feet away, rolling my keys around my fingers. "Hop in, Byun."

He climbs into the passenger seat and by now the silence is killing me, but I shove it down. I'm here to drive him home and that's it. No more, no less.

Sighing inwardly, I settle into the driver's seat. "Buckle up," I mutter, looking at him out of the corner of my eye. "You may be more likely to survive a car crash in your drunken stupor but I sure as hell am not getting a fine for your ass."

I swear I hear him mutter, "of course," under his breath.

"What was that?" I pointedly widen my eyes, looking directly at him.

"Nothing." He grumbles, keeping his eyes facing forward.

"I thought so," Making sure he's strapped securely and checking my rearview mirror, I stick the key into the ignition and pull out of the parking lot.

Driving to Baekhyun's apartment feels so surreal, for many reasons. Never in our relation—our previous relationship have I driven him anywhere. I never dared to get behind the wheel of his Audi, that car is too expensive. If I had wrecked it and looked at the cost to fix or replace it, combined with the look of pure rage that would be on his face from me crashing his baby, I would die. Bad blood or not, I rather not be on Baekhyun's bad side.

My heartbeat picks up the longer the car ride goes on. Fuck, it's getting harder to breathe. I literally have the biggest problem to ever walk into my life right next to me months after I swore to never speak to him again. Why did I agree to this? What was I thinking?

No. No time for that, I'm going to drop him off at his apartment and continue moving on with my life. That's why I left him in the first place.

"...Riley?" He speaks up a few streets away from his house, his voice the softest I've heard in a while.

Nope. Don't engage. I tighten my grip on the steering wheel.

"Can… Can we talk?" He continues, sounding sadder by the minute. "Please?"

"We're ten minutes away, Baekhyun."

"I…" The bags rustle in his lap as he sighs. "I knew this would happen."

"What?" I glance sharply at him at the next red light.

Baekhyun looks down at his hands with the most pitiful expression on his face, tears building in the corners of his eyes under the bright city lights. "I knew you would hate me."

Oh my fucking—My heart squeezes painfully in my chest. I want to roll my eyes and launch myself out of the car window at the same time. "Stop bringing it up, Byun." I mutter, focusing back on the road. "It's a thing of the past. Let it die there."

"Yeah," He laughs, his voice raw with emotion. "Like my heart the night you left me."

I clench my jaw, taking a deep breath, inwardly cursing the hectic late night traffic. Come on, fuckers, I need this man out of my car asap.

"You don't even want to talk to me about it." He continues, growing more frustrated and louder by the minute. "You don't even want to see me-"

"Of course I don't, Baekhyun!" I snap, whipping my head around to face him. "After all the shit you've done I have every right to not speak to your smug fucking face again."

"Smug?" He laughs weakly. "You think I enjoyed what happened to us?"

"Yep," I chirp, gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turn pale. "There's no other explanation for why you are in my car right now."

"You insisted for me to be here." He fires right back. "You break up with me, hang out with all my friends, then act like a cold hearted bitch every time you see me."

"It takes one to know one, Baekhyun." I jab right back, curling my upper lip in a cruel smile.

"Yeah," He scoffs, crossing his arms and facing the window. "I'm sure you know that very well."

"If you're going to be a whiny little bitch," I start, smiling widely at him, "I will put you out on your ass, Baekhyun."

"Wouldn't you love that," He laughs, anger coming off of him in waves. "You were always obsessed with my ass."

That's it.

Baekhyun yelps when I slam on the breaks, bracing his hands on the dashboard. "Riley, what the hell?!"

"You wanted to talk?" I make sure the curb of the street I pulled onto is clear before facing him with a grin. "Huh? You want to talk now?" Baekhyun shrinks further into the passenger seat when I lean over him. "Fucking say it to my face then, you bastard." I snarl. "Go on. Give your little practiced speech."

Baekhyun parts his lips a few times, making my rage raise even more—"I miss you." He mumbles sadly.

I blink, staring at him. "...What?" I chuckle, growing wary as he keeps giving me those kicked puppy dog eyes. "What the fuck are you on about, Baekhyun-"

"I miss you." He repeats. "I miss your voice, I miss your eyes, I miss waking up to your sleeping face next to mine." He takes a shaky breath, tears filling his eyes. "I miss your strawberry scent on our pillows. I miss your loving words. I miss you complaining about my random ramblings and shutting me up with a kiss… I miss everything about you." He drags his eyes back up to mine then. "I miss you so much I wake up every day and fall apart when I remember that you aren't there."

Sucking in a breath, I look away from him, my anger long forgotten. I… I don't know what to say. "You…" A lump forms in my throat. I have to bite the inside of my cheek to restrain my wobbling chin.

Baekhyun keeps his eyes on me, pleading with me with their sad, brown depths. He doesn't expect the slap I land on his pretty face.

"You fucking bastard," I mutter lowly, shaking in anger, the last of my sanity flying out of the window. "You don't get to come in here and say all this fucking bullshit when you couldn't even tell your fucking mother that you were dating me!" I scream, my vocal chords pulling harder than my heart strings. "You were dating me, living with me, loving me, fucking me-" I laugh, throwing my hand out to show off the car. "For a whole year. Then you come here with your pretty, pitiful little empty words and expect me to forgive you? Really? You really think so little of me?"

"Ri-"

"Did you not get it the first time?" I ask in the sweetest of tones, my Southern accent out on full display. "Huh? You told your dear mother about us then suddenly come running back after me? Did having her approval feel that good little puppy?"

Baekhyun's face burns a dozen different shades of red, but I'm not fucking done yet.

"Here comes the man who was so overcome with jealousy over my best friend that he pretended to fuck another whore at his party," I list off on my fingers, my voice growing louder with every word I fire at him."Here goes the man who accused me of fucking Jongin because I wanted to be left alone at a mother fucking party. Here sits the man—who had the audacity to cheat on me not once, but twice!" My lips curl up into the ugliest sneer, glaring at Baekhyun hard enough to kill. "And here lies the cowardly man who will lie like a pig in mud for the rest of eternity as far as I am concerned."

I'm huffing and puffing by the time I'm done, not even waiting for him to say anything before starting back up again. "You know I never and would never have cheated on you, right?" I ask, lowering the volume of my voice. "If I didn't want to be faithful to you, Baekhyun, I would have been with someone else. I don't pull stunts to be petty and shit. If you didn't know that about me now, you're a fucking idiot, and if you don't believe me, then I don't know what to tell you." I shrug, leaning back tiredly into my seat and keeping my eyes forward on the empty road ahead.

"I get that," He says quietly.

A chuckle bubbles in my aching chest. "Do you?" I raise a brow, trying to calm down. "Do you understand how stupid it is to cheat on someone just because you're feeling petty or uncomfortable in a situation-"

"I never cheated on you."

"Ha!" I bark out a laugh. "And I don't have 4C hair." Rolling my eyes, I throw my hands up. "What? So that model at the photoshoot and the lipstick stain on the collar of your shirt wasn't you cheating? Are you serious?"

"Yes."

"Really? You really are going to deny-"

"Melody tripped over a sewage drain and that model forced herself onto me." He states firmly. "Neither was consensual or intentional."

Both my brows raise. "Huh. You know, it's real funny how you have an explanation for that now." I roll down my window to cool off, leaning my elbow onto the window seal and my chin in my palm before turning to him again. "Where was this energy months ago?"

Baekhyun nods. "You're right. I am a coward," He admits, stopping me dead in my tracks. "Dumb enough to not say anything and dumb enough to think that you'd figure it out because I…" He trails off, biting his lips before those teary brown eyes lock onto mine again. Taking my breath away with the endless storm of emotions swirling within them. "With you, I'm like an open book. You always saw right through me, so I thought… I thought I didn't have to say anything," His head drops, looking down at the neat bags sitting at his feet. "And when I did, it was too late."

My eyes narrow. "How do I know you aren't bullshtting me?"

"I have nothing left to lose," He shrugs, smiling sadly.

Anger flares up in me again. "What is that supposed to mean-"

"I already lost you."

My mouth snaps shut, a feeling I haven't felt in months squeezing my heart in earnest.

"Everything you said was true," He mumbles. "All of it. The secrets, the lies-"

"And what makes you say that?"

His ears burn brighter than the red handprint on his cheek. "I'm seeing a therapist."

"Oh—Shit..." A wave of white hot shame falls over me. "Baekhyun, I-I'm sorry-"

"No." He shakes his head before bending down, the paper bags rustling in his grasp. "Don't. You said nothing but the truth."

"That still doesn't make it okay…" I rub the back of my neck, cursing myself inwardly for my anger. I hadn't meant to go off on him, that wasn't my intention—

"It's only fair," He mutters, shrugging weakly. "I've said worse to you."

"I…" I can't help but sigh, at a loss for words. "...I'm proud of you, seeing a therapist takes a lot of courage and self awareness."

"Thank you."

"I'm glad you're doing okay," I mumble.

Baekhyun stiffens up. Suddenly the atmosphere in the car shifts into something more melancholic.

"B-Baek?"

He lifts up his head, revealing his tear-stained face to me. "You think so?"

My heart clenches in anguish. "Baekhyun-"

"After everything you…" His voice breaks. "You think I'm fine? You think I'm okay?" Tears dampen the long strands of silver hair dangling in his eyes. "I haven't slept. I haven't eaten. I haven't breathed—I haven't lived since the day you left." He croaks, sucking in a breath. "So if you think that I am okay, I am not."

I have nothing else to say after that. What can I even say...?

Feeling tears form in my own eyes, I turn the car back on. My mom always taught me that if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say nothing at all. And after I slapped him and said all of those things…

I pull off of the curb, hiding my tears away from him. There's nothing I can do but take him home and hope that in the distant future… In a brand new life… He can forgive me for everything I've done to him and move on too.

The rest of the ride is spent in silence. No radio. No cars zooming past. The only thing I hear is his quiet sniffles and the cry of my wheezing heart.

"Thanks for taking me home," He mumbles in the softest of tones, mumbling more to his scuffed up sneakers than to me.

"No problem," I say softly, reaching out to place my hand on his shoulder only to pause, gripping the steering wheel again. "Make sure to take some Advil from the third cabinet on the right, okay?"

Baekhyun nods, hiding under the strands of his messy hair. He scares the hell out of me when his head suddenly shoots up again.

"Baek…?" I whisper, not sure what to do as he starts leaning in. He reveals his face to me up close for the first time in months. Heart-wrenching features that I know so well. The droopy shape of his brown eyes, the soft slope of his button nose, the cute little mole on top of his soft pink, thin lips that are pursed in concentration. For what? I have no idea. "Baekhyun-"

He slams his hand down on the dashboard, making me flinch. "Spider," He mutters, opening his hand to reveal its creepy squished body. I shiver at the sight. "I don't want you getting into a wreck. I know how you hate-" He sighs loudly, shaking his head. "Never mind…"

Yeah… I gulp, forcing a smile. Never mind.

"Travel safely, okay?" He takes his bags of food and steps out of the car, moving to close the door only to pause, meeting my eyes from under the bright city lights. "Goodnight, Riley."

It takes everything in me not to break down right there and then. "Good-" My lips wobble. I clear my throat, brushing my hair back before daring to look into his dull brown eyes again. "Goodnight, Baekhyun."

He smiles so small and sadly, making my heart weep when he closes the door and walks off to enter his apartment building.

I sit there for a few moments, staring out at the busy street ahead. It's so funny… This empty feeling in my chest. It's… It's like I never left…

•••

It's unfair… how much your heart hurts when you're stuck on someone. Realizing that no matter how many times they've hurt you, your broken heart still beats for them… and only them.

No matter how hard I try to deny it, the heart doesn't lie…

Baekhyun… is still a part of me. His scent may have faded, his t-shirts and hoodies are cleared out from my room… but the memory of him lives on in my heart. And I can't get rid of him without breaking myself completely and reforming a "perfect mold" to fit myself in.

Ha… funny how that works. 7 months of moving on has led up to this. Nothing. 7 months, 12 months, or 30 years, Baekhyun's scent can wash off of my skin, but the rest of the world won't let me break the two of us apart. If I am my brain, he is my heart. And you can't live without that muscle pumping steadily in your aching chest.

It's so unfair… because I'm trying my hardest to move on with someone else.

It takes me forever to get ready for my date tonight, and when I do… Something tells me to cancel it. But I can't. Jackson will be busy for the next month and a half. This is the only time in his schedule where he can take me out on the "proper date" as he likes to call it. Which he doesn't have to, I'm not that hard to please. I mean for fuck sake, I haven't had an official date until I was 20.

I'm not picky about these things, but I ended up agreeing in the end anyway. The sad puppy look on Jackson's face when I tried to decline going to a restaurant to just stay in and watch movies instead still haunts me. Those almond shaped, dark brown puppy eyes… Damn him.

Sighing softly, I carefully apply my eyeliner in my vanity mirror, checking over my appearance one last time and smiling at the result. My lips are the richest shade of red, dark brown, waist-length hair curled to perfection, and the crystal earrings I haven't worn in ages sparkle every time they catch the light. Perfect for my chosen dress for the night.

It's a little something that I've bought recently. A spaghetti strapped, black velvet piece with a cowl shaped neck that shows off a bit of my cleavage, form-fitting all the way down to the V shaped end of the dress. It ends high on my thigh, but I have no plans to go dancing tonight, (for Jackson's sake). It's just enough to make him a little hot under his expensive collar. Especially with the lace strings crisscrossed in the back that are the only thing holding the dress up.

A low buzz makes me jump, startling me out of my thoughts. I fish for my phone in the vibrating purse in my lap. I haven't taken it out since last night… The weight of Baekhyun's unblocked number in my phone is a heavy load... and I only have myself to blame.

My eyes widen at the caller ID on the screen: Him. And I know exactly who he is.

Biting my nails, I weigh my options: answer now and end up canceling my plans or call him back tomorrow...

…

Would it really be that bad to cancel? No—I can't. Jackson thinks I'm a punctual woman and…

"Always so sweet for me," He murmurs lowly, painting my skin with the shape of his lips.

My breath hitches, mouth going dry as more memories dance in my mind. Skin on skin, hushed whispers, champagne painted breaths...

"Mmm you're so wet," He groans, grazing my clit with his teeth. "Making a mess all over me."

A knock on my door makes me pause, staring down at the buzzing phone in my hand.

7 months without Baekhyun… and it has resorted to this.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck—Fuck!

I power down the phone, toss it back into my bag, pull it onto my shoulder and launch myself out of my chair to open the door before I lose my nerve. The sight that greets me on the other side of the door makes my heart flutter, but…

"Hey," Jackson smiles softly, his dark brown eyes sparkling under the bright lights.

It doesn't take my breath away.

"Hi," I manage a smile, tucking my hair behind my ear.

"You look beautiful," He compliments, his eyes sparkling even more as he looks over my dress before meeting my eyes again.

My smile grows, warmth spreading over my cheeks. "Thank you," I mutter softly, laughing a little. "You're not too bad yourself."

He smiles again, gesturing to me, the shine of his thin gold bracelet reflecting the hallway lights. "May I?"

"Hmm?—Oh!" I gasp, noticing the red and black corsage in his hands. "Y-Yes," I smile shyly, my heart pounding when he holds out his hand to me.

Jackson gently takes my hand, carefully slipping the corsage around my wrist. The caress of his rough fingertips makes a shiver go down my spine, goosebumps left on my skin when he pulls away.

His outfit catches my attention. Normally I'd feel a little shameless for looking at him from head to toe, but after what happened earlier… I can use a distraction.

He's wearing a black blazer with a matching lace turtleneck shirt underneath that gives me a glimpse of his toned skin, making my breath hitch. A golden necklace with a pendant rests in the middle of his chest, making him look so attractive when it twinkles under the lights. And with the way his shirt is tucked into his stylish black jeans… Fuck me ten times over.

My eyes trail further down his body. He has on that expensive gold watch I saw the first time we met and elegant rings on his veiny hands. I forget to breathe remembering how it felt to be held in his strong arms...

Snapping out of my daze, my wide eyes dart back up to his, finding the sweetest of shy smiles on his lips and a pink hue to his cheeks. He just caught me checking him out and he's blushing. Adorable. Clearing my throat, I smile, feeling my own face heat up under his admiring gaze. "Not bad at all."

His soft chuckle makes me feel less embarrassed. Maybe he can tell that I'm nervous… but not what has me so nervous.

Baekhyun's tear-stained face has been haunting me all day and I barely managed to get any sleep last night. His small voice replays in my head and soft spoken words cover my skin. My face heats up and pales at the same time at the reminder of what I was thinking about not even 10 minutes ago. I had a memory of him going down on me for Christ sake! Looking up at Jackson's handsome face, I feel another wave of hot shame. Can the ground please open up and swallow me whole?

"Shall we?" Jackson asks, bring my attention back to him. He offers his elbow to me, waiting for me to lock my arm with his. Another smile forms on my face; I have to suppress a giggle bubbling in my chest. He's so sweet and gentle compared to all the other men in my life. Ugh, my poor heart is racing like crazy.

I lock the door behind me and wrap my arm around his, appreciating the firmness of his bicep as he leads us down the hallway. The taps of our respective shoes echo around the quiet hall while we wait a few minutes for the elevator to arrive. "I'm not taking too much of your time, am I?" I mumble, watching the floor numbers rise to avoid his gaze.

"Hmm?" Jackson hums, his alluring cologne hitting me when he turns his head to look at me.

"Your schedule," I elaborate, glancing at him from under my eyelashes. "I'm not infringing on your work time, am I?"

"No," He shakes his head, holding the metal doors open for me while I walk into the elevator.

"But you said you are in the middle of the most important part of filming and-" I stop, my eyes widening at the warmth on my cheeks.

"Riley." Jackson looks right into my eyes, his rough palms cradling my face. "You are not 'taking too much' of my time, alright?" He mumbles, brown eyes drifting over my features while his thumb swipes over the top of my cheek, leaving a blaze of gentle heat in its wake. "This night is for us."

My heart practically leaps out of my chest the longer I stare into his warm eyes. I break eye contact. "O-Okay," I whisper, smiling shyly.

Jackson smiles, taking my hand when the elevator doors open onto the ground floor. As we walk past the security guard in the lobby, I wonder how I look next to him… He's the same height as Baekhyun, more toned where the latter has softer edges. They both have sharp jawlines, but Jackson's cheeks are more chiseled than squishy like Baekhyun's sweet face—

"Ladies first," His low voice muses.

Lifting my head from my white high heels, I look into Jackson's eyes, realizing that his dark brown eyes don't hold the same tension Baekhyun's does when I am taller than him like this. My shyness aside, with my almost average height and tall heels, I'm a few centimeters taller than Jackson. But instead of finding that spark of insecurity I'm used to seeing in Baekhyun's eyes, Jackson looks at me as if I am the goddess who put the moon in the sky.

Stepping out into the quiet night, I look up at the stars, having to blink a few times when I see a pair of droopy brown eyes staring down at me. No. I shake my head, sighing in frustration. God, why do I see him everywhere I go?

We make our way to the parking lot on the side of the apartment complex. The silence between us isn't striffling like the one I've come to grow wary of over the past year. That piercing void full of held back frustration and heated glares...

A car unlocks in the distance, drawing my attention to a sleek black vehicle when it lights up. A Jaguar, stunning with it's cat-eye headlights and the way the engine purrs to life. The car is honestly mesmerizing, and it suits Jackson well, but my heart tugs painfully in my chest when he opens the passenger door for me and I don't see any red accessory detailing on the inside...

"You look stunning in that dress." He says when he climbs into the driver's seat, his low voice making me feel something deep in my stomach.

"T-Thank you," I blush scarlet, shifting towards the passenger window to hide my red face. It's been a long time since someone has complimented me so genuinely. I haven't felt like this since—

"Are you really that insecure?"

The memory hits me like a punch to the gut.

"You okay?" Jackson asks, his eyes shining with concern.

"Y-Yeah," I whisper, clutching onto my purse. My face hasn't cooled down since I left my apartment and I doubt it will at this rate. Between Jackson's sweet eyes and Baekhyun's teary ones that haven't left my mind, I'm royally screwed. "How's work?"

Jackson hums. "It's good." He keeps his eyes on the road, pulling out of the parking lot. "The movie is coming along nicely."

Taking a few discrete and deep breaths, I rest my head on my arm, focusing on the low timbre of his raspy voice. "Did the tech team find any more of those files?"

"No." He shakes his head, making a left turn. "Thankfully those were the only ones," He smiles, glancing over at me; the twinkles of excitement and affection in his eyes is hard to ignore. "Now the editing team can take over."

I fight the urge to rest a hand over my heart. "The movie won't be delayed?"

"The movie won't be delayed," He confirms warmly, focusing fully on me at the next red light. His brown hair falls attractively over his forehead, casting a shadow over his dark and expressive eyes. "We'll be ahead of schedule. Everyone worked in advance while waiting for the tech team to sort through the files."

"That's good," I smile, turning my attention to our surroundings streaming past the window.

Jackson navigates us down the long Seoul streets, the city lights reflecting in his dark eyes while he steers the wheel with both hands. He looks handsome under the favor of the moonlight, the headlights of passing cars sparkling across his thin necklace. For a moment I imagine a future—an us. How it would feel to hold his calloused hands and gaze into his adoring eyes. What it would be like to wake up to his face in the mornings. That deep, raspy voice… I shiver at the thought, praying the traffic lights don't show the red hue I feel on my cheeks.

Soft and slow R&B floats from the quiet car radio, caressing my ears with its gentle melodies while Jackson turns his blinkers on. I hum, tapping along to the beat, a smile curling at my lips. It's a perfect song for a summer night like this, adding a calming atmosphere to the intimate space of Jackson's car—

"I love this song."

Baekhyun raises a brow, his eyes focused on the road as he turns up the radio with a smile. "Really?"

"Yeah." He has such a stunning side profile, I could gaze at him for hours. "I listened to a lot of their songs growing up."

"Your parents have great taste."

"Mm." The sunlight reflecting in his brown eyes has nothing on the sparkles of happiness in his shining orbs. "I guess you do too."

I sigh through my nose, shoving down the emotions budding in my chest. No matter how hard I try, memories of him continue to play in my mind. All our romantic mid-day drives and late night talks of a future we thought we had in store… Our shared hopes and dreams that went up in flames before our very eyes.

Next thing I know, Jackson is putting the car into park, the purr of the engine cutting off in exchange for the summer heat seeping in through the pause of the air conditioner.

"You ready?" He looks over at me, the urge to brush his hair out of his eyes hitting me full force.

"Yeah," I smile, curling my hand around the strap of my purse. The giddy smile he gives me in return is so damn sweet I want to cry.

Jackson steps out of the Jaguar and it doesn't take him long to round the car. He opens the passenger door for me before I realize that we've reached the restaurant.

"Thank you," I giggle in embarrassment, placing my hand in the one he offers me with another one of those adorable smiles of his. My heart skips a beat when he presses a kiss to the back of my hand while I step out onto the asphalt. If he keeps this up I'm going to have a heart attack over this softness. What the hell, why aren't there more guys like Jackson in the world? And how the hell has he been single this whole time with him out here sweeping me off my feet like this?

His widened smile and the way his eyes drift over my features has a comforting warmth settling over my beating heart. He leads the way to the restaurant, opening the door for me like the heart-fluttering gentleman he is. He's going all out on winning me over tonight and I'm loving every minute of it.

The smell of freshly baked lasagna and garlic bread has my mouth watering as we make our way up to the counter. I catch a peek at the beautifully arranged, round wooden tables under a romantic lighting in the next room.

"Reservations for Wang." Jackson's voice sounds more firm when he addresses the lady at the counter, a flicker of his director persona flashing across his face. If nothing else, one look at him and you can tell that he's about business—even for a little date like this. A first date too. It's hard fighting my adoring smile.

The receptionist checks on the computer in front of her and looks down at her clipboard, nodding with a polite smile. "Right this way," She gestures to the next room. Her black suit, matching bow tie, and crisp clean, white dress shirt add onto the expensive air of the restaurant. The food is fresh, the atmosphere is dreamy, and every surface shines brightly under the dim candle-lit lights.

The further we walk into the restaurant, the more I have to be sure not to let my jaw drop in awe. Everything about this place is magical, from the happily conversing customers to the beautiful chandeliers in the hallway. The receptionist leads us to a table in a more secluded area, the muffled chatter of the rest of the patrons coming through the velvet walls. "Your water will be out shortly," She sets the menus on the table before taking her leave with a bow.

"Allow me," Jackson murmurs, his words caressing my ear. His cologne washes over me when he walks over to the table, pulling out a chair and waiting for me with the most charming smile on his face. I can't hold my own back even if I tried.

"Thank you," I say warmly, humored and flattered beyond belief. The proximity of his hand to my bare shoulders has a pleasant shiver going down my spine. A flush forms on my face. The man has done nothing but be a gentleman and I'm over here yearning for his touch like a giddy teenager.

Jackson's scent hits me once again when he moves to take his seat. The minty smell of aftershave and a hint of his own unique manly scent has me damn near drooling and we haven't even had appetizers yet. My stomach is building tension and I doubt it has anything to do with the menu.

"How was your day?" He inquires.

I startle out of my horny musings like a cat doused in cold water. Oh shit. "It was alright," I laugh nervously, trying to keep my voice from wavering into that annoying raspy tone it gets when I'm not careful enough. "I turned in my final assignments and am awaiting my test results for the semester."

A waiter comes to take our order, sparing me a few minutes from having to explain myself. I'm struggling to find words here. What am I supposed to say? "Oh yeah, I spent all day daydreaming about my heartbroken ex and the steamy sex we used to have." I'd die of embarrassment so damn fast. I'm appalled at myself.

"What are you studying?" His dark brown eyes are back on me when the waiter walks away. A flutter stutters in my chest under his attentive gaze.

"Business," I resist the urge to rest my chin on my palm, choosing to swirl my fork around my salad instead. "I'm working on my bachelor's degree. I want to improve my performance at work."

His eyes widen, curiosity painting on his handsome features. "What do you do?"

I smile softly. He's adorable. "I'm the Director at Park's Publishing."

"You work in a publishing house?"

"I manage the 5th floor," I share, a smirk quirking at my lips. The last thing I did this morning before going home around lunch was inform everyone about our busy schedule at the end of the month. "I miss my editing days, not gonna lie." I laugh, poking an olive. "Sorry, work kind of stresses me out."

"No," Jackson shakes his head, smiling softly, "I get it. Taking a group of people under your wing is a big responsibility."

"It's sooo difficult." Sighing, I cross my legs, the back of my heel clicking against the leg of my chair. "Since I'm not directly in charge of editing, I have to guide others and keep reminding myself that I can't do the work for them. They have to learn on their own."

"Same," He nods, swallowing a bite of Italian seasoning drenched tomato and lettuce. "I have to fight the urge to take things over that the marketing and editing teams are supposed to handle." A flicker of annoyance crosses his face, making me smile in understanding. "Good thing I'm not Ceo," He jokes.

I laugh, thinking to myself: Yeah, thank fuck you aren't one.

When the waiter brings our food, the reminder that I haven't eaten all day stirs in my hungry stomach. I take a bite of my chicken alfredo before it can growl, closing my eyes to hide how they roll back when the gooey goodness of cheese and perfectly boiled noodle hits my tongue. Holy fuck. This food right here is the shit. If I had a meal like this more often, I'd never complain again in my life.

I find myself observing Jackson while he enjoys his own meal. He chews with his mouth closed, neatly cutting his chicken with a fork and knife. The room is quiet with only the soft music playing overhead and the sound of our silverware clicking against the pristine plates.

"I want to wake up every morning to your sleeping face curled up by my side," Baekhyun murmurs, smiling shyly.The red hue of his cheeks endearing under the dim lights. "Your hair products cluttering our dresser and your toothbrush next to mine."

"You really like cucumbers, huh?" Jackson muses.

I jolt out of my thoughts, realizing to my horror that I've been leaning over the table, picking the cucumbers from his salad. "Oh! Y-Yeah," I chuckle, my face burning scarlet. From humor or embarrassment, I have no idea. Probably both at this rate. "You could say that..."

Originally posted by sefuns

August fades seamlessly into September, urging the leaves on trees to change into red, orange, and pretty yellow hues. Gone are the dog days of summer smitting everyone from above. Now the best season of all is coming out to play, and I am all for it.

Skipping down the street in my newest yellow skater dress and nude sandals, I check the GPS on my phone to search for the street that I'm on. Today I decided that walking around aimlessly for hours was the best course of action to clear my mind, and now I've found myself in a part of Seoul that I've never been to before.

The architecture of the landscape around me is something to behold. The windows are cut out squares that only allow light to be seen from within the rooms as the sun goes down, and the buildings are curved this way and that in the most intricate of ways. It surely is a view I wouldn't mind venutring over here to see again sometime. The lively chatter of pedestrians on the sidewalk is refreshing too.

Smiling to myself, my eyes catch sight of a particular building in the distance. I quickly cross the street for a closer look. It's a giant library that looks to be 4 stories tall, showcasing a huge bookshelf on the back wall from the view of the front windows. Highly intrigued, and lowkey smitten, I step inside for a closer look.

The smell of books hits me in an instant, the young and old novels arranged neatly in little bookshelves compared to that mountain of literature on the farthest wall. There's a small cafe serving up delicious muffins to my right and a huge sitting area full of the perfect lounge chairs on my left. Crowds of people make their way to and fro between the aisles without hiccup. There's so much to do that I don't even know where to start.

Walking over to the Romance section, I skim my fingertips along the book covers, aimlessly striding down the aisle until a thin, blue book catches my eye. Curious, I move to pull it out only for another hand to beat me to it. A familiar, slender hand.

I yank my hand back at once. "Dude!" Lowering my voice, I glare at the man in front of me. "Why the hell are you always everywhere? Are you following me around or what?"

"W-What?" Baekhyun's wide brown eyes stare back at me.

"I never thought you'd resort to stalking, Baekhyun." I shake my head, brushing past him, the silver buttons of his waist-length jacket cold against my sun-kissed skin.

"I'm not fucking!" He slaps a hand over his face, exhaling deeply. "I'm not following you around."

"Then why are you here, huh?" I keep my eyes forward, marching into the next aisle.

"Because—will you stop walking away from me?!?!?!"

I freeze, the sheer desperation in his voice roots my feet to the floor. "Why are you here, Baekhyun?" I cross my arms, shivering under the air conditioner overhead.

"Hannam-dong library extraordinaire," He utters, his shadow moving closer as I tense up. "You put it on the bucket list. The one we made together." Hope pours out from his every word, his painfully slow footsteps seeming to stem from the faint memories crowding his mind. "You listed every place you wanted to go and w-we, we never…" He stops when his voice cracks, clearing his throat. "You made a copy by hand so we'd always have it," He mumbles sadly. "I guess it's meaningless now."

Emotions grip at my throat and tears threaten to fill my eyes. I slowly turn around, snatching the book out of his hands. "Give me that." Flickering my eyes up to his hurt-filled eyes, I gesture to the sitting area with my chin. "Follow me."

Baekhyun follows behind me without a word, shuffling his boots noisily on the carpeted floor. I have half the mind to tell him about it until I remember where we are—in a library and in life. Biting my tongue, I plop down into the longest couch available, staring at his nervous figure when he doesn't join me. "Come on!" I snap, throwing a pillow at him that he's quick to catch. "Sit your ass down, I don't got all day." I grumble, opening the blue book. "I came here to read and I plan to do so."

A few moments go by, nothing but the quiet chatter of visitors and the coffee pot whistling on the other side of the room fills the air. Just when my heart drops at the thought of him being gone, a weight sinks down into the couch next to me. I look to see Baekhyun in a grey sweater, his jacket left on the back of the chair. His eyes are closed and neck is bare while resting his head on the back of the couch. Silver locks of hair messily dangle on his forehead, long eyelashes caressing the tops of his cheeks. I frown at the lack of fluff I find there, his mother's words a distant whisper in my ear.

Baekhyun makes me jump when he peeks an eye open, opening the other before blinking slowly at me. "I'm listening," He murmurs softly, keeping those expressive brown eyes on me.

My heart skips a beat. Smiling to myself, I focus back on the book in my hands, flipping to the first page and beginning to read aloud.

•••

Weeks fly by once mid September hits, endless clusters of colored leaves blowing away in its wind. The sun rises later in the day and sets at a different angle at night, casting warm shadows over my bedroom window that never fail to bring a smile to my face. Everything about this time of year puts me in high spirits. The weather is perfect for my velvety outfits and the annoying ass bugs are finally starting to go away. It's a calm, homey fairytale land full of sweet breezes and mid autumn adventures.

I lean over my vanity while painstakingly applying my red lipstick in the mirror, smoothing it out with care. My makeup for tonight goes well with my newest party dress, a burgundy velvet, off the shoulder piece with a deep v neck. It has long puffed sleeves with fitted cuffs that wrap comfortably around my wrists and a matching belt to emphasize the hourglass shape of my waist. The thick material is perfect for early October, the nights beginning to get just the littlest bit colder.

Humming to myself, I carefully put on my gold dangling earrings, smiling at the reflection of my wavy hair. Just letting it air dry with curling irons in it for a few minutes ended up with the subtle result. I'm attending one of Jackson's infamous parties tonight as his date, not his seducer. Although, I don't need to get all dolled up to impress him anyway. Batting my eyelashes and looking intensely into his deep, dark brown eyes is enough.

This time around, I'm prepared for the knock on my door. Two months of various dates has sunk a certain time into my core. 10pm on the dot. Punctual as always. My red painted lips quirk up at the thought. With one last glance into my vanity mirror, I spin around on my one-inch, open-toed black heels, strutting over to open the door and whistling at the sight.

Jackson smiles, looking hot as hell in his black blazer and thin gold chain with no shirt underneath. His muscular thighs look amazing in his tight jeans, and with his brown hair brushed back with a few strands of hair attractively left on his forehead…

"You look gorgeous," He murmurs, planting a kiss on my forehead while I'm distracted by his two sets of gold earrings.

I smile coyly, tucking my finger in his necklace and tugging on it lightly. "You're not so bad yourself."

Conversations between us flow more easily over the past few months. I show him my sass and he throws it right back, making me laugh every time. His attractive mind comes up with the most astounding ideas and points of view. There are many different sides to him as well. His confident, professional way of handling business to how he likes to roll over on my couch to rest his head in my lap and look up at me with those dark brown puppy eyes.

Things are easy—that's just how it is with Jackson. It's a nice change from the complicated men in my life. He's adorable and sexy all in one.

The clicks of my heels echo across the sidewalk as we walk up to the frat house, my hand wrapped around his bicep. The party is just starting to pick up it seems; a fair amount of party goers are streaming in the front double doors.

"I want to introduce you to someone," Jackson perks up the moment we reach the entrance.

"Really?" I bat my eyes at him, stepping closer when someone brushes past us in a hurry. "Well, I'm down for that."

He smiles, holding the door open for me. I softly squeeze his bicep before letting him go, walking into his alumni house for the first time in almost a year. Last December I was crossing this same threshold with Jenny by my side, can you believe that? A lot can happen in 10 months, and I can't wait for what's in store for me.

"Jackson!" A deep voice reaches us over the loud music and growing crowd. I can barely make out a figure under all the neon lights, beckoning us over. Jackson's cologne washes over me before I feel his arm brush against my back.

"Let's go," He takes my hand in his, a smile audible in his raspy voice. I follow his lead, swiveling my head around to take in the view of the house. Just as I thought, everything is impeccably arranged. From the mini bar in the back corner to the DJ booth, it screams Jackson. Charming. Intelligent. And expensive. Even with the clumsy party attendees stumbling around.

He turns the corner on the right side of the hallway, following the medium-build figure walking down to a slightly ajar door at the end of the hall. The chatter from within the small room comes to a halt when the stranger pushes open the door.

"Took you long enough, Tuan!" A high-pitched, bubbly voice laughs, their plump lips smiling in amusement.

The man we've been following turns around, smiling while 5 other pairs of eyes land on us. "Hey, man."

"Mark," Jackson steps forward for a bro hug, clapping a hand over the raven's back. He goes around to do the same and fist bumps the other men in the room before standing next to me again. "There's someone I'd like you to meet."

All of them smile, curiosity and friendliness coming off of them in waves—except for one.

Yugyeom sits with his legs crossed in the far corner of the room, smirking while leaning his head in his hand. I make a point to ignore him, shaking everyone's hand with my most polite smile. Their compliments of my dress has me blushing all the way up to my ears. Thankfully the dim lights hide it from view.

Jackson and I take a spot on the only available couch in the cozy room, sitting between Mark and another man with sharp cat-like eyes and a barbell piercing.

"Is this your first party?" The latter asks, swirling the brown alcohol in his glass.

"No," I smile, way too aware of Yugyeom's stare burning into the side of my head. I carefully open a can of beer that Jackson hands to me, taking a long sip.

"Huh," He takes a swing of his drink while I lean my head onto Jackson's shoulder. "Why haven't I seen you around before?"

"I have," Yugyeom joins in, smirking and wiggling his eyebrows at me from over the rim of his glass. My eye twitches. Yeah, I see why this little shit and Jenny broke up.

I quietly observe everyone while the night carries on, the faint bass from the music down the hallway vibrating through the floor. Jackson catches up with his "brothers," in the meantime, updating them on the progress of his film. My eyes lazily sweep over the well-furnished room, the edges of my vision turning blurry. I make sure that the next two cans of beer that I drink aren't open when they are handed to me.

Sometime around midnight, I loosen up, the buzz of alcohol rushing through my veins prompting me to lose my filter. Between BamBam with the plush lips playful banter and the juicy tales of Jaebum's romantic conquests, I'm positively beaming, chatting without a care with my legs draped over Jackson's lap.

Mark cracks a joke that sends me reeling, nearly falling off of the couch if it wasn't for the man next to me, wrapping a strong arm around my waist. I hide my face in the crook of his neck, taking in his vanilla scent. The hint of citrus on his honey-toned skin has warmth spreading over my chest, the image of his sweet, brown puppy eyes printed behind my eyelids.

I laugh until I realize how dead silent the room has gotten. Lifting my head, I look around before tugging lightly on Jackson's sleeve. "Hey..." I murmur with difficulty, growing unnerved under their piercing stares. "What's-"

"Let's call it a night," He mutters, not meeting my eye.

Snapping my mouth shut, I nod, wondering what I did wrong while he bids everyone goodnight. I stand up with the help of his hand on my arm, guiding me over to the doorway that seems to be tilting to the side.

"Hey…" I try again, focusing hard on putting one foot in front of the other. What happened…? Did I laugh too hard? React too dramatically? Is there a piece of fruit stuck between my teeth? I knew I shouldn't have had that parfait before—

Jackson pulls aside me to an empty corner shielded by large plants in the hallway. His lips part a few times before he presses them into a thin line. "You just called me Baekhyun," He mutters, clenching his jaw.

Oh. I sober up in a heartbeat. "S-Shit, I-" The color drains from my face the longer I gaze into his disappointed dark brown eyes. I can feel tears filling my own. "I'm so sorry-"

"It's fine." His stiff posture says otherwise and I've never seen such a hard expression on his features before. "I'll drive you home."

"Wait…" Resting my hand on his arm, I brace myself with a racing heart for the backlash I'll get for what I'm about to ask. "C-Can you drop me off somewhere instead?"

•••

The car ride into the heart of Seoul is stifling. I can't recall us ever being like this… let alone having Jackson angry with me. His grip on the steering wheel has his knuckles turning white, the clench of his jaw concerning me as well. I can only blame myself, swearing inwardly for coming out tonight.

This wasn't supposed to happen… None of this was. The Baekhyun; the shy smiles; the longing. The Yugyeom; the drinking; the nerves... If I could go back in time, I never would have gone to that frat party last year. I would have stayed at Jenny's apartment, bonding over skincare routines and shitty tv shows. But no... I had to go out that December night, and now I am facing the consequences.

It's taking everything in me just to hold back my tears.

"We're here." Jackson speaks up after an hour of silence, nothing but the zooming cars and lively nightlife filling up the empty space from beyond the tinted windows. It does little to ease the tension in the car—it only seems to build when he pulls up to the curb, leaving the engine running.

A lump forms in my throat, making it hard to breathe. I can't even face him right now. By the cold look in his eyes, I know there is no use trying to talk to him. I can't even defend myself. There's only one explanation for what happened earlier, and it's the most shitty one of all...

Baekhyun.

On my mind; in my thoughts; in my heart. The way his long eyelashes brush the top of his glowy cheeks and the world swirling in his sparkly brown eyes when he looks at me. Everywhere I go, I see him, feel him, and wish he was there… From the darkest crevices of my anxious mind to the deepest depths of my beating heart.

No matter where I turn. No matter how much I try. There is only one man in the world for me in this lifetime. There is only one name my soul cries out for… and it isn't the one next to me.

I swallow hard, my heart aching for Jackson. The telling shine of tears reflected in his brown eyes can't be hidden when a truck drives past, revealing the vulnerability in his dark eyes. I hate that things are ending this way. The pounding of my head and sour taste on the back of my tongue are only reminders of how much I've messed up tonight.

Working up my nerve, I step out of his Jaguar, ducking my head back inside with a tight grip on the door.

"Thank you," I whisper over the loud crickets and crying tree frogs, "For everything." Sighing shakily, I crack one last smile as a tear rolls down my cheek. "Thank you for showing me how wonderful life can be."

Jackson turns his head, regarding me with teary, fire-filled eyes. His throat bobs and he manages a small smile in return, nodding slowly. "The pleasure is all mine, Riley."

With a pounding heart, I close the car door with care, walking onto the curb. I look back over my shoulder one more time when I reach the doors of the apartment complex, watching him drive off with a sad smile. The quiet night wraps around me, bringing me little comfort against the bitter cold that I feel inside of my heart. What if I'm making a mistake? I just walked away from the only man who treated me the way I deserve… A stable, well off man for a broken, world shattering one.

A million thoughts race through my mind while climbing the stairs to his apartment, my hand clutching onto the railing for dear life. What if he's not home? What if I'm too late? What if he's finally moved on and I'm the only one still stuck in the past? Still stuck on us?

Tears spring to my eyes, making it hard to see the wobbly steps with my blurred vision, but I carry on, one step at a time. Something tugs deep in my chest—a gut feeling. One that has me pausing from the sheer force behind it.

Baekhyun is my home, and he is waiting for me.

I break out into a run, nearly slipping on the last step before I reach the landing of the fourth floor, swinging the stairway door open so hard it collides with the wall. My heels pound against the marble floor until I trip over something, slamming my head on his door. The resounding thud echoes across the silent walls and the door is yanked open within seconds.

His wide, shock-filled brown eyes stare at me from the doorway, with his messy silver hair and a white wrinkled t-shirt.

I all but throw myself at him.

Baekhyun gasps, catching me before I fall. "Riley, I-"

"No." I shake my head, hugging him tighter, my voice wavering. "You listen to me." Looking up into his brown eyes, I cup his warm cheeks in my cold hands. "I don't care how long it takes, I don't care how much my heart breaks." My chin wobbles, salty tears streaming like a waterfall down my face, but nothing else matters. Nothing can hurt me when I'm in his comforting embrace.

"If it's not with you, I don't want it," I breathe, staring deep into his glimmering eyes. "Do you hear me? You can break my heart a million times, and I can do the same." Swiping a tear from under his eye, I cradle his face in my palm, painting his vulnerable expression into memory. "As long as we mend it back together, we will be okay." I nod, looking between his wide eyes. "We will get through this." I state firmly, melting against him when he tightens his hold on my waist. "We are in this together. Okay?" His silence is worrying me… "B?"

"Are you…" He slowly reaches up, cupping my cold cheek in his warm hand, his frantic brown eyes searching mine for answers. "Are you really here?" He whispers.

"Yes." I watch the light begin to return to his tired eyes. "I'm here, Baekhyun." I pull him closer, squeezing him in my arms, his racing heart beating in sync with mine. "I'm here." My heart drops when he pulls away.

Baekhyun shakes his head, moving his hand from my cheek to take mine into his. "I'm stubborn, insecure, and possessive." He mutters, gazing right into my eyes, determination written all over his face. "I'm… I'm annoying, overbearing, and a workaholic."

I give him my softest, loving smile. "Well, me too." Slowly reaching for him again, I paint my name on his honey-toned skin with my fingertips. "Let's be fucked up together, hmm?"

"I…" He sighs, resting his forehead on mine, staring lovingly and worriedly into my eyes. "I don't want you to regret this."

"I won't," I murmur, tracing three little words across his collarbones. "If I do, we'll fight and then have makeup sex."

Baekhyun chokes. "You're terrible." He coughs, patting his chest, the red hue on his cheeks more endearing than ever before.

I shrug, smiling at him. "When it comes to you?" Sliding my hand up his chest, I tangle my fingers in his messy hair, hovering my lips over his, "I am many things."

•••

It's funny; how easy it is to fall back into him. His loving arms and secure embrace. Every day spent with him slowly mends the cracks in my fragile heart, filling them with the most everlasting remedy of all. Love.

Time is endless when I am with him. Moments become weeks. Seconds turn into hours. Being with Baekhyun makes any taxing and mundane task into a precious activity that I'd love to do again—just because it's him.

Our dynamic has changed, even the air around us is new. We talk about everything. We face problems head on. A few arguments break out sometimes because we are two stubborn individuals, but those aren't a problem now. No big fights. No tearing into each other. I may call him an asshole and he'll rebuke with that I'm being a bitch, (which I am more often than not,) but at the end of the day. When the tension is gone and our sad eyes lock from across the room. We work things out and fall more in love with each other, no matter the struggle we've been through.

—Like right now.

"Perfect," I laugh bitterly, taking out my earrings while storming into the living room. "Fucking perfect."

"Riley," Baekhyun sighs, closing the door.

"No. Fuck this." I spit heatedly, throwing my hands up. "You always do this bullshit. Every time I go out you have something to say. What is it, huh? Why you always got to be up in my shit-"

Turning to him, I'm met by tired brown eyes, his hands falling limply to his sides. "Can we talk this out?" He asks softly, eyes pleading. "I rather hold you than fight."

Still huffing and puffing, I stare into his puppy eyes and sad pout. Without a word, I march over to him, tucking myself under his chin and wrapping my arms around his waist.

"I get it, okay? I have no problems with you going out with your friends." He mumbles into my hair, kissing my head. "I just want to make sure you are safe. Call me, text me, send me a pic to let me know that you're alright." He pulls back a little to cup my face in his hands, staring deep into my eyes. "You're my baby," He whispers, brushing frustrated tears from my cheeks. "If something ever happened to you I wouldn't be able to live with myself. Please understand where I'm coming from."

"Okay." I mumble against his shoulder, hiding more in his vanilla scent. "...I'm sorry for going off on you."

"Shh," Baekhyun hugs me tighter, surrounding me in his warmth and tangling his fingers in my hair. "I trust you, okay?" He nuzzles in my hair, sighing softly. "It's the rest of the world that I don't."

I love him. I love him with every part of me. If I had the chance to go back in time, I'd choose to meet him every time. Even on days where I have to walk out of his apartment to catch a breather. Those cold nights where I stubbornly shiver on his balcony until he comes out to place his jacket on my shoulders. And the times I ask myself why the hell I'm fighting with him over which color we should switch his window curtains into again. Despite all the good and the bad. The happiness and earth shattering agony. I wouldn't change it for the world.

"Are you cold?" Baekhyun mumbles, bringing the back of my hand to his cheek.

"I'm fine, B," I reassure, ignoring the goosebumps that erupt on my skin. From his loving touch or the cold bite of the November air, I have no idea. Most likely both.

"You're shivering." He points out, already struggling off his jacket before I can respond. "I told you it would be cold today."

"I wanted to take the risk, okay?" I sigh, smiling into the cinnamon scented fabric he places on my shoulders.

"It's the middle of November," He murmurs with a shake of his head, tucking our joined hands into the pocket of his jeans.

"Maybe," I mumble in amusement, beaming at him and batting my eyelashes. "But you love this dress on me. Admit it." Today I'm wearing a royal blue summer dress. The weather may be shifting from windy fall to bitter winter, but that won't stop me from rocking this sleeveless, v neck, shirt dress with a tie around my waist.

Baekhyun's eyes shift away from the red crosswalk light ahead to look me over, taking his time with a little cheeky smile on his face. "Well," He murmurs, mischief shining in his sparkly brown eyes. "I can't deny that."

I giggle, ignoring the warmth on my cheeks when he softly squeezes my hand, leading the way as we cross the street. I've missed this feeling: walking hand and hand—our fingers interwtined and young hearts racing as one. Not even the chilly wind can ruin the mood I'm in—I just tuck myself closer to his side.

Baekhyun hums, wrapping his arm around me, pulling me closer when a group of children come running down the sidewalk. The shrill voice of their scolding mother has us sharing a knowing look, smiling shyly. Yeah, nothing quite gets better than this.

"Riley?"

I stiffen, that low, raspy voice shakes me to my very core.

Baekhyun's brown eyes shoot to mine in an instant. "Baby?" He murmurs, a worried frown on his face as he leans to my ear. "Do you know him?"

"Um-" I avoid his eyes, holding onto the hem of his shirt for dear life. "I- Uh-"

A shadow falls over us before a figure walks around to face us, and those dark brown puppy eyes have never looked so solemn. Fuck.

"Jackson Wang?" Baekhyun blinks, sending me into an internal panic. "Hey, man," He smiles, going in for a handshake. "Long time no see. How's the movie?"

Jackson's brown eyes stare into mine before he looks down at Baekhyun's hand. "Good."

Baekhyun frowns, retracting his hand, confusion written all over his face.

"Hey, fancy seeing you here," I manage a small, polite smile, my heart racing nervously when Jackson pulls the towel from around his neck, his dark brown eyes landing back on me. "What you up to?" I tilt my head, resting a hand on Baekhyun's back.

"Out for a jog," Jackson shrugs, the fabric of his black t-shirt sticking to his damp skin. His eyes track how Baekhyun reaches back to take my hand into his. "I was supposed to play basketball with the guys," He continues sourly, "But they blew me off."

"Ah…" I purse my lips, straining another smile. "I hope you all can meet up soon."

He nods, the clench of his jaw and unreadable look in his eyes telling me all that I need to know.

"Well!" Resting my hand on Baekhyun's bicep, I risk a glance at him, unnerved at the equally hard to read expression on his features. "Baekhyun and I will be heading out now. We have reservations to make."

Jackson merely nods, his eyes burning into the back of my head as I lead Baekhyun around him. "See you around, Riley."

Cursing under my breath, I shoot him one last smile over my shoulder, urging Baekyun to walk faster. I hold my breath until we turn the corner onto the next street. "Geez what a mess," I mutter, loosening my death grip on his hand.

Baekhyun continues to securely hold onto my hand and his calm, quiet reaction has me more anxious than all the fights we've had combined. "B-Baekhyun?" I ask tentatively, trying to read his side profile. "Are you okay?" The way his silence stretches out is killing me. "B?"

"Well," He mumbles, nudging a stray rock on the ground. "Jackson is nice. He seems cool."

Uh oh. "Baekhyun-"

"No no, it's fine." He shakes his head. "I see the appeal, you know?" He looks over at me, smiling sadly. "Sharp jawline, muscular, more manly than I'll ever-"

I pull him into the nearest alleyway for privacy before facing him head on, resting my hands on his chest. "You know I only want you, right B?"

"I-I do, I just-" If the kicked puppy expression on his face was for anything else, I'd find it endearing. "He's so well put together and-"

I promptly press my lips to his, pulling back after a few moments with a raised brow. "Better?"

Baekhyun's lips part a few times, the open expression on his face cute as hell. He makes a small noise and hugs me close, sealing my lips in another kiss.

After that day, the ice has broken between us—the last wall I had built up came crumbling down. Hiding from Baekhyun isn't needed anymore. The reassurance that we can actually talk about things instead of letting tension build is all I could ask for, alongside his love and time of course. If only I could be with him tonight.

Mrs. Park wanted me to attend a press conference or whatever with her out of the blue, saying something about it being "a big deal" and "very important" that I be there. So here I am, accessing my options for the night.

Three different outfits cover the entirety of my bed, each bringing forth a slightly different mood from the last. The first one is my trusty go-to, below the knee length dress. A simple black piece of material that's flattering for my figure without exposing my wild side. The second outfit is a basic black blazer, white dress shirt, and black dress pants—the bore of all boring clothing. Nothing wrong with it, but I'm not feeling really "plain and dull" tonight.

Now, the third option is one to behold.

A dress that is a combination between the two: a long sleeved, low cut, black dress with pretty lace for the left sleeve and solid material on the right that wraps over more lace underneath. The perfect mix of femininity and authority. I think I know which outfit is the one for me.

Slipping into the warm material with ease, I grab my car keys and head out to meet Mrs. Park at the venue. The thought of sending Baekhyun a text crosses my mind while taking the elevator. Now that I think about it, I haven't heard from him all day. Where he at?? Is he still working late or did my comment about him never cooking a meal in his life hurt his feelings last night? If I wasn't piled up to my ears with paperwork all day I would have stopped by his office to have lunch…

Frowning to myself, I keep both my hands on the steering wheel, leaving my phone untouched in my purse on the passenger floor. Worried or not, I'm not even going to pull out my phone at the next red light. In a big city like Seoul, it's best not to take any chances, if any for that matter.

I navigate down the bright streets with ease, thankful that my GPS is cooperating with me today. Within an hour of traffic jams and watching out for jaywalkers on the street, I'm pulling into the parking lot of the venue. And with Mrs. Park leaning against the hood of her car, she isn't hard to find.

Making a three point turn, I back up into the parking space next to hers, not up for the hassle of dealing with gold digger assholes who will want me to hit them with my car later. Seoul or the South, the bullshitty ways of the road aren't that different.

"Hey," Mrs. Park smiles when I step out of my Porshe, dressed to the nines in her black pantsuit. She tilts her head towards the venue, the twinkle of her diamond earrings catching in the bright streetlights. "You ready to go?"

I walk around to her side to retrieve my purse from my car, tucking my hair behind my ear. "Yes, ma'am."

She smirks, a knowing look in her eye before locking her car. "Let's go."

Eyeing her warily, I follow her to the grand building, the clicks of our heels echoing across the pavement. For a moment the silence around us has me worrying if we are late until I see a red carpet surrounded by paparazzi in the far distance. What the hell?

"What exactly are we attending?" I ask carefully.

"A press conference," She doesn't miss a beat, glancing over at me. "Don't look so scared."

"I-"

"Smile," She continues, smiling reassuringly, "Just be yourself."

Sighing softly, I nod, preparing myself for anything. I trust Mrs. Park a lot, but if her cheeky son is anything to go by, I might be walking into something right now. And I have no idea what is awaiting me.

The clicks of the flashing cameras become more audible as we approach, a dozen cameramen throwing questions at us at once. I just smile, making sure all my sides are my best side while walking down the red carpet. Mrs. Park dodges their questions with ease, falling into step with me. We enter the open double doors of the venue without a hitch and the sight on the inside takes my breath away.

Floor to ceiling windows occupy the spacious hall with rows upon rows of velvet covered seats and a chandelier sparkling overhead. The stage at the far back has the first set of burgundy curtains drawn, showing a microphone stand. What kind of press conference is this? The amount of seating astounds me, let alone when Mrs. Park walks us right up to the front row.

I have so many questions to ask, but I just sit down in the seat at the end of the row, on the left side closest to the stairs leading up to the stage.

"Are we early?" I crane my neck around, watching other sharply dressed businessmen and women slowly fill up the venue.

"No." Mrs Park shakes her head as the lights dim down, smiling knowingly. "We're right on time."

Before I can reply, something shiny catches my attention out of the corner of my eye. I turn my head to face the stage, my eyes widening at the silver haired man walking out onto the stage.

"Good evening, everyone." Baekhyun's honey-smooth voice echoes around the hall. He struts over to the mic stand with a white microphone in hand, his Ceo aura and chosen outfit for the night taking my breath away.

He's wearing a sparkly black blazer with a black button-down shirt underneath, the first few buttons undone. The sleeves of his jacket have a glittery gold embroidery design shaped like a crown and there's a matching necklace resting around his shoulders, twinkling alluringly under the dim lights. His snug black jeans and heeled boots nearly have me on the floor. Pardon my French but—step on me please?

I gulp, sitting back in my seat while Baekhyun commands the stage. He has the whole crowd wrapped around his finger with every charming smile and deep chuckle he sends our way. I graciously accept a glass of wine from a waiter and cross my legs, too busy admiring him to listen to a word he says. It's been a while since I've had the pleasure to see this kind of view.

Baekhyun continues to speak to the crowd, coaxing adoring 'ah's' and the occasional applause. I lose my sense of time the longer he gives his speech, idly swirling my drink around my glass. I've barely drank half of it by the time the event starts coming to an end.

"Everyone." Baekhyun's voice rings over the murmuring crowd, clasping his hands together over the microphone, a soft smile playing at his lips. "If I can have a moment of your time, I'd like to say a few things before we wrap up."

My eyes widen to the size of saucers when he says my name, holding a hand out for me to take. I look around, narrowing my eyes at Mrs. Park's smiling figure. The wink she sends my way tells me everything that I need to know.

Everyone else in the crowd starts looking around, some of them settling their eyes onto me. I take a final sip of my wine and slowly set my glass down in the cup holder next to me. With one last breath and a weary glance, I approach the stage, the clicks of my heels echoing around the room.

The closer I get to Baekhyun's beaming face, the more my heart pounds, butterflies erupting in my stomach. But the moment my cold hand is securely in his, all of it fades away. With Baekhyun, I know I am safe.

He smiles, looking me over with affection shining in his eyes. "Everyone, meet my girlfriend." He announces into the microphone, softly squeezing my hand and facing the crowd again. "She didn't expect to be here tonight..." He trails off, smiling sheepishly. "I'll probably be getting an earful later." He chuckles, joining everyone in their brief laughter while I shoot him a look that screams 'you're damn right.' "But for now," He continues, settling his sparkly brown eyes back onto me, "I have something important to say."

Baekhyun takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. "If it wasn't for her, I wouldn't be standing here today." He squeezes my hand again, flickering his eyes back open to stare into mine. The warmth and undeniable love swirling within them sends my heart into overdrive. "If it wasn't for her patience, care and timeless, endless bounds of love." He sighs softly, smiling so sweetly while wrapping an arm around my waist before turning us both to the second set of curtains. "I wouldn't be here to present the newest clothing line."

The curtains go up and my jaw drops at the sight.

A huge glass container stands in the middle of the stage, showcasing mannequins wearing various articles of clothing. Soft looking blue sweaters, comfy jogging pants, black leggings with white embroidery flowers on the ends, and short jean shorts. There are over a dozen different clothes on display with the letter 'R' scripted on the front in beautiful cursive, but what really captures my attention is the red dress. Front and center.

The backless, sleeveless burgundy mermaid dress covered in sparkly jewels from start to finish, twinkling prettily under the dim lights while spun around on its high-rise platform.

"This goes out to Riley." Baekhyun hugs me close, making me grateful that I'm facing away from the crowd when tears spring to my eyes. He smiles shyly while gazing at me with those warm brown eyes. "The woman of my dreams and love of my life."

I stare right back into those deep brown pools of love, biting the inside of my cheek to keep my chin from wobbling. Not able to take it anymore, I cup his glowy cheeks in my hands, pressing my lips to his.

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

A/N: This was a mouthful, don’t mind me, I’m formatting the other 9k 😭💗

#baekhyun smut #bbh-net #supermwritersnet #baekhyun angst #baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun romance #Six Phases #let's go heartbreak and smutty town #with a surprise within ;)

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