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weirdkpopgirl · 5 months

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Friends Who Kiss | Chenle Fic #1

Title: Friends Who Kiss

Genre: Best friends to lovers, high school/college au

Warnings: mentions of the reader being insecure and having a mental breakdown at some point. a little suggestive, but not really

Word Count: ~ 5.6k

Author's Note: Okay to be very honest, I think that this story is kinda stupid and cliché. But it was an idea that I still wanted to try writing. And this is my first full-length fic for Chenle too, so I'm happy to post something for him. So to those who like cheesy romance stories, I hope you enjoy this. Thank you for reading ^ ^

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Since the start of high school, Zhong Chenle has been a consistent part of your life. He arrived as a transfer student from Shanghai, while you were the reserved kid who often used studying as an excuse to avoid social interaction. So rather than you reaching out to him first, it was he who practically claimed you as his best friend. Your personalities were a striking contrast, but it proved to be the perfect balance. It didn't take long for the two of you to become inseparable.

However, your friendship took a turn in eleventh grade. You guys had gone to your house after school to do homework. Except it was mostly you working on assignments, while Chenle was animatedly ranting about some mobile game Jisung was terrible at playing.

“It’s unbelievable! Every time I check his character gets killed,” Chenle laughed, and you responded with a soft hum of acknowledgment.

The boy glanced up from his phone to find you engrossed in your textbooks. While your attention was focused on writing an essay, you were also trying to keep your mind from drifting to the unsettling conversation you had during lunch that day. Typically, you and Chenle sat together with his friends. But Jisung needed the boy’s help stalking his crush, so you found yourself sitting with some of the girls in your class.

Sensing the inner conflict brewing in your mind, Chenle rose from the bed and leaned over your shoulder.

“You've been at this since we got here. How is your brain not fried?” he asked, blunt as usual.

You shot the boy with an unappreciative glare. “It is fried. But our essay is due on Monday, and I still have to help you with yours.”

Chenle sighed, well aware of your enduring determination. Ever since he met you, he couldn’t understand why you stressed so much over assignments, especially when you always completed them before the due date. Then you somehow managed to go out of your way to ensure he was doing the same.

“You’re more than halfway finished, and I’ll get to mine on my own time,” He reassured, “Why don’t you take a break for now?”

Before you could protest, Chenle swiftly pulled you out of your chair and guided you to sit on the bed with him. Worry clouded his gaze. “Something’s troubling you, isn’t it?”

Your teeth sank into your lower lip, hating how Chenle knew you so well. He didn’t have a problem sharing what was on his mind, while you were the exact opposite. Yet, even a single look at you was enough for him to detect something was off.

“The girls at lunch were going on about their dating experiences and stuff,” you began to explain, your tone tinged with irritation at the memory. “They were all so surprised when I said I haven’t had my first kiss yet.”

You pushed yourself to meet Chenle's gaze, half dreading that he might burst into laughter. Instead, his expression held a hint of amusement, and that alone made you regret bringing up the topic.

Before he could respond, you hurriedly attempted to backtrack on your words. “It's stupid, I know—”

“It’s not stupid if it’s making you upset,” Chenle said firmly.

Leaning back in your seat, you let out an exasperated sigh. “I just can’t get their judgmental looks out of my head. All because I don’t have much experience with dating?”

Chenle's expression softened as he confessed, "There's nothing wrong with that, and there’s a lot of people like you. I haven't had my first kiss either."

“Really?!” You stared at him in disbelief. “Didn't you date Ko Mi-so though?”

Chenle scoffed, appearing slightly offended. “Okay, that happened such a long time ago. And we didn't even last a month, so we never kissed.”

Now that you thought about it, he was right about their relationship ending almost as quickly as it began. You recalled the time back in tenth grade when Chenle was quite smug about dating Mi-so, who happened to be the prettiest girl in class. Frankly, you were somewhat relieved when they broke up, given that she didn't particularly like you. Chenle hasn’t dated anyone since.

“Oh, I guess that makes sense,” your voice trailed off.

The boy stayed silent for a moment before an idea dawned on him. “You know what? Why don’t we have our first kiss now?”

Your cheeks felt like they were competing for a world record in how quickly they heated up at Chenle's proposal. He couldn't possibly be serious.

“Did I hear you right?” you stammered, thoroughly taken aback by the suggestion.

Chenle nodded confidently, “I mean, we're best friends, so it's not that weird. And it's better than kissing someone we don't know as well or not have a connection with.”

You could kind of see his point. Having Chenle as your first kiss did seem much safer than kissing some random guy. Besides, it wasn’t like either of you had any underlying feelings for each other. This would solely be for practice.

“Alright,” you reluctantly agreed, “But you have to promise not to make fun of me if I turn out to be a bad kisser."

Chenle chuckled and nodded. He inched closer to you on the bed, leaving little space between the two of you. Although he saw you every day, having your face this near made a faint blush tinge his cheeks.

He started to lean in more before pausing. "Um, maybe you should close your eyes."

"Oh—right," you mumbled awkwardly, then took a deep breath before allowing your eyelids to shut.

He had to suppress a chuckle, finding you kinda cute in that moment. Before you had a chance to second-guess yourself, Chenle pressed his lips against yours in a tender kiss. Shortly after, he drew back, searching for your reaction.

“So, how was that?” He asked, voice laced with teasing.

You stared at him incredulously for a moment before realizing he was waiting for you to answer. “I suppose it was okay,” you mumbled.

Chenle tilted his head with an amused grin. “Just okay?”

“Yeah, I guess I didn't feel much because we're not really into each other like that,” you admitted with a nonchalant shrug.

Okay, you might have partially lied about not feeling much during the kiss. Truth be told, there was this strange, fluttery sensation in your chest when your best friend's lips grazed yours. But perhaps all first kisses were like that, and you were simply overthinking it.

The boy beside you let out a hearty laugh. “Well at least we got that over with.”

You had to muster all your self-control not to blush when he followed up with, “And you're not a bad kisser, by the way.”

Believing that the experiment was over, the two of you returned to your previous tasks. Nothing changed much after that day in your bedroom, as you and Chenle remained best friends. But little did you realize that this wouldn't be the last kiss you'd be sharing with him.

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Despite your previous attempts to justify it, the second kiss you shared with Chenle happened partially because of you. As your senior year of high school unfolded, Chenle prepared for his performance at the spring festival. It was you who initially urged him to participate in the talent show. The countless times you had witnessed his piano playing and singing during your private moments together convinced you that he should share his talents with the world. Your compliments not only fueled Chenle’s ego but also prompted him to eagerly jot his name down on the sign-up sheet.

However, what you didn’t expect was to find him backstage, looking as pale as a ghost. He was supposed to go after a group of girls who were dancing to Red Velvet’s “Red Flavor.” With the intention of cheering him on in person, you spotted the dark-haired boy sitting on a chair, anxiously bouncing his legs.

“Last-minute jitters?" you asked softly.

Chenle glanced up at you and crossed his arms in a nonchalant manner. “What, me? I'm fine,” he replied, though his tone lacked conviction.

Just as Chenle knew you like the back of his hand, you were among the few who could read him. While he was partially correct about never being nervous, it didn't take an idiot to perceive that he was in that moment. It was evident he was trying to play it off to uphold his confident image.

One aspect that troubled you about Chenle was his constant facade of cheerfulness and carefree demeanor. No one could genuinely be happy all the time, and he was the kind of person who concealed his negative feelings when around others.

After deliberating on how to address the situation, you gently rested your hand on his shoulder, bringing yourself to eye level with him.

“Hey, you’re going to be amazing out there,” you reassured him. “I’ve seen how many hours you put into practicing that song. You have nothing to worry about.”

Chenle let out a heavy sigh. “Yeah, you're right.”

The smile he bestowed upon you didn't quite convince you. Biting your lip in hesitation, you glanced around to ensure no one else was nearby. Once you were sure that you were alone, you leaned down and gently planted a kiss on the boy’s forehead. Chenle’s eyes widened in surprise at your actions.

“What was that for?”

Blushing, you took a step back and stammered, “Just for good luck, you know. I—I’ll be right there in the crowd, watching you. So if you feel nervous on stage, just look at me.”

A more reassured smile spread across Chenle’s lips and before he stood up to swiftly peck you on the lips, leaving you more stunned than he was a few seconds ago.

“There, I definitely feel more ready now,” he declared with a teasing glint. And the smug Chenle you were familiar with had returned.

As Chenle’s playfulness lingered in the air, the sound of the audience clapping erupted for the girls, putting an end to your “moment.” With a knowing look, you both parted ways, allowing Chenle to step into the spotlight for his performance.

As he took the stage, you found a spot in the crowd, eyes fixed on him with awe. The rhythm of the applause filled the air, drowning out any lingering thoughts. In that moment, the stage became his world, and you couldn't help but be swept away by the magic of his talent. The earlier exchange faded into the background as you watched Chenle shine, each note and melody weaving a captivating spell that left you in admiration.

Neither of you mentioned the kiss after that day. The interaction remained more platonic than anything, a gesture that was only meant to show your support for him. But Chenle still liked to think he killed the stage because of it.

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Chenle was undeniably responsible for the next time the two of you kissed. However, this particular incident didn't unfold until the first semester of your freshman year in college. The joy of discovering you both had been accepted into the same university was palpable, though Chenle appeared to be more exuberant about the news. In contrast, you felt a sense of relief, grateful that you wouldn't be venturing into the world of college alone.

In one of your classes, a sunbae began to show interest in you. Despite your attempts to politely reject him, it became apparent that he wasn't willing to accept no for an answer.

One day after class, he cornered you in the hallway, insisting that you go out with him. As you tried to maintain your composure, he grabbed you by the wrist when you tried to walk away. The harsh move triggered internal panic within you.

You could sense the danger in his tone as his head tilted cockily. “Come on, (Y/n), don’t be so difficult. I know you’re just playing hard to get.”

“I—I’m sorry but I just don’t feel the same as you, Sunbae,” you stuttered, trying to be assertive. “Please let go.”

Refusing to relent, the sunbae was on the verge of pulling you in closer when another hand intervened, forcefully ripping you out of his grasp. Your head turned in astonishment to see Chenle casting a disgusted look at the guy in front of you. The flames in Chenle’s eyes made you realize that you had never seen him so livid before.

“She said to let go of her. What part of that do you not understand?” Chenle’s voice cut through the tension.

The sunbae scoffed and crossed his arms in defense, “Yah, who are you to involve yourself in someone else’s matters? Are you her boyfriend or something?”

You watched as the corner of Chenle’s lips turned into a smirk as he snaked an arm around your waist in a protective gesture.

“That’s right. So who are you to go after another man’s girlfriend?” he retorted confidently. Your eyes widened, almost surprised as the jerk in front of you.

Shaking his head in a mix of disbelief and embarrassment, the sunbae pointed a finger at you. “This is a joke, right? You just asked him to pretend to be your boyfriend to mess with me!”

Before you could respond, Chenle took matters into his own hands. His free hand briskly moved to the back of your neck, drawing you in for a passionate kiss. In a typical situation, your best friend's impulsive actions might have freaked you out immediately. However, the way his fingers delicately pressed against your back reassured you that he was doing this for your sake, Closing your eyes, you kissed back and tried to reciprocate with the same passion Chenle was pouring.

Moments later, Chenle pulled away and turned to the sunbae, wearing a satisfied grin on his face. “Do you believe her now? Not that she has to prove anything to you.”

The older male muttered begrudgingly under his breath, “Whatever, not worth my time.”

With a scowl, he stormed off, leaving behind a palpable sense of relief in the wake of his departure. Once he was gone, you removed yourself from Chenle's hold and shot him a look of confusion.

“You know you didn’t have to do that right?”

Chenle chuckled, “Well, someone had to put an end to his nonsense. Besides, I've always wanted to play the protective boyfriend card.”

“Protective boyfriend? You almost gave me a heart attack!” You smacked him on the shoulder.

Chenle’s smirk remained, but he adopted a more concerned tone. “But seriously, (Y/n), why didn’t you tell me he was bothering you earlier?”

“I thought I could handle things on my own.” You shrugged weakly, lowering your head in guilt.

Chenle sighed, recognizing your aversion to depending on others for your problems. Throughout the time he’d known you, he'd witnessed your willingness to go to great lengths to help those you cared about. However, when it came to your own struggles, you seemed to prefer suffering in silence.

“We’re best friends for a reason,” he reminded you, “Looking after each other is 50/50, you know?”

You offered him a small smile, “I guess you’re right. Thanks for saving me today.”

“Well, you can thank me by buying food tonight,” Chenle said, the playful glint returning to his eyes. “It’s your turn anyway.”

Rolling your eyes, you let him lead you out of the building. But Chenle’s words from earlier lingered in the back of your mind. “We’re best friends for a reason.”

The two of you were the epitome of what best friends were. And that was all the two of you would ever be, right?

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At this point, you were beginning to lose count of the number of times you’ve kissed your best friend. Despite this, your friendship maintained its familiar rhythm throughout the university. But after that hallway encounter, the awkwardness that came with kissing your best friend faded. Although it was more of Chenle seeming unfazed, and you becoming less surprised each time it happened. And indeed, there were a few more instances that caused your lips to meet.

Like the time Chenle excitedly dragged you to his dorm to watch a Golden State Warriors game, and, in the heat of the moment, he gave you a quick kiss before cheering some more. Then there was the other time when you both went out for drinks with friends, a few drunken kisses were shared.

There weren't any real feelings attached to the kisses you and Chenle shared. At least, that was what you repeatedly told yourself. However, as you were halfway through your first year of university, you finally started to question the true nature of your friendship with Zhong Chenle.

Those thoughts began to sink in just before your first finals in college. Isolated in your dorm room, you immersed yourself in studying for a math exam scheduled in three days. Calls and texts from friends went largely ignored as you turned off your phone in an attempt to focus. However, Chenle wasn't about to let that slide.

One night, he let himself into your dorm, carrying a bag of your favorite takeout—knowing well that you tended to skip meals when stressed. You could see the determination in his face, ready to scold you. But the expression quickly transitioned to one of concern when he caught you on the verge of a breakdown.

You sat at your desk surrounded by textbooks and notebooks filled with scribbled equations. The sight of your trembling body and slightly tousled hair, a result of pulling on it too hard, tugged at Chenle��s heart. He was well aware of how your anxiety affected you at times. But he had never witnessed it manifest quite like this.

Instantly, the bag was placed on the floor, and he was at your side. “(Y/n), what's wrong?"

“I—I'm going to fail my calc final,” you swallowed, your fingers curling into fists. Your shoulders slumped, and the weight of despair was evident in the way you hunched over the desk.

He placed a hand on your shoulder, attempting to calm you down. “You still have a few weeks before finals, (Y/n). And you’re not going to fail.”

“Yes, I am!” you cut him off, your voice strained. Tears welled up in your eyes, and your hands clenched even tighter. “I’ve been studying for days, and my dumb brain still doesn't understand anything. Do you know how stupid I feel?”

“Being bad at math doesn’t make you stupid, (Y/n),” Chenle said, trying to inject a bit of lightheartedness into the situation. However, his comment didn’t seem to offer you any comfort.

You shook your head miserably in response. “Stop trying to be nice. I'm going to fail, and then I’ll end up letting down my parents and everyone else.”

Chenle’s heart ached at the defeat in your voice. Setting his jokes aside, he recognized that words weren’t what you needed at the moment. Instead, he enveloped you in a warm embrace. You hesitated only briefly before surrendering to his comforting hold, attempting to fight back tears.

“Just let it out,” he whispered.

Those simple words acted as an emotional release trigger, and Chenle found himself gently rubbing your back as you quietly cried into his shoulder. A sense of mixed emotions flooded him as he held you in that moment. A part of him felt a twinge of relief, grateful that you let him be there for you. You often kept your emotions bottled up, making it a challenge for him to discern how you truly felt at times.

However, there was a pang of sadness accompanying that satisfaction. He knew you didn't just cry in front of anyone, and realizing that you had reached this breaking point signaled the depth of your struggle.

After a while, Chenle gently pulled back, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “You need a break, (Y/n). Let’s step away from the desk for a bit.”

"No, I really should—" you began to protest, but Chenle cut you off.

"You really should eat the food I brought you before it gets cold," he insisted, picking up the bag again.

He led you to sit on the carpet of your cramped dorm room, creating a makeshift dining space for the two of you. As you both shared a meal, Chenle continued to provide a comforting presence, occasionally cracking a joke to lighten the atmosphere.

As the night wore on, the exhaustion in your eyes became more prominent. Even so, you knew you should go back to studying. But Chenle seemed to disagree.

“Maybe you should just rest for the night. I promise to help you with math in the morning,” he suggested. However, upon seeing the unconvinced look you gave him, he backtracked on his words. “Okay, I'll have Renjun help you.”

Too tired to argue, you gave in, and that's how you found yourself lying in bed with your best friend. Back in high school, you used to have sleepovers at his house on the weekends. At night, the two of you would be lying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling and talking about anything. However, having him beside you at that moment felt strange.

You saw a sincere tenderness reflected in those large eyes of his. A part of you wondered if Chenle often gazed at you with such fondness and you simply hadn’t noticed before. Either way, the way he was looking at you made you feel even stranger. And the short silence that had settled between the two of you wasn’t helping.

Uncertain of how much longer you could endure the intensity, you broke eye contact with him and murmured, “Thank you for always being there for me, even when I try to push you away”

Chenle chuckled, adjusting his position to prop himself up on his elbow. “Well, of course, because how could you live without me?”

His ability to joke at a time like this struck you as unfathomable. Instead of the usual eye roll or pushing off the bed, a serious expression remained etched on your face.

“You're right, I don't think I can live without you,” you said, your voice laced with drowsiness. “Because you’re one of the few people who truly care about me.”

The amusement in his eyes danced away, as he felt the gravity of your words. Something about seeing this vulnerable side of you was so beautiful in his eyes. Before he could fully process his own thoughts, Chenle found himself leaning in to close the space between you with his lips meeting your own.

Uncertain whether it was the leftover stress from your meltdown or the sleep deprivation that prompted you to kiss back without much thought. You could recall all the times you’ve kissed Chenle throughout the years. But this one would always stand out to you.

This kiss lasted a lot longer than your previous ones. But it wasn’t just the way he tilted your chin upward for a better angle, or the feeling of his dark locks of hair slipping between your fingers. Nor was it the soft pressure of his lips moving in sync with yours. It was the indescribable emotions that made time seem to stand still, weaving an unspoken connection that surpassed words and left you yearning for more.

Aside from pulling away, both of you gasping for breath, and noticing how Chenle's lips were redder than you had ever seen them, you vaguely recalled what happened after the kiss. When you woke up the next morning, Chenle was already gone. However, he had left you a text message, mentioning that he went to check if Renjun could help tutor you in math.

But math was no longer the sole stressor in your mind. Your best friend had kissed you last night, and unlike all the other times, this one left you feeling more confused than ever.

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True to his word, Renjun offered to meet up with you that Sunday afternoon at the campus library. Within an hour of sitting down to unravel the calculus concept that eluded you, Renjun finally helped you grasp the material. Although the looming fear of failing finals had diminished, you still felt a weight on your shoulders.

“You don’t seem as relieved as I thought you’d be,” Renjun remarked lightheartedly. Even he could tell your mind was preoccupied with something else.

You smiled sheepishly, “No, I am! I seriously owe you for helping me out. I just…”

“Is it something to do with Chenle?” he asked, almost like he was a mind reader.

His unexpected question caught you off guard. “How did you know?” you stammered, feeling the heat quickly rise to your cheeks.

A knowing smile played on the boy’s lips as he leaned back in his seat. “Oh come on, (Y/n). You have that look on your face that something happened between the two of you.”

Sometimes you seriously wished Renjun wasn’t so good at reading people. Even though you weren’t as close to him as Chenle was, he’s known you long enough to notice things that others wouldn’t. For instance, when something was troubling you.

Biting your lip, you debated whether to be truthful with Renjun. Although you didn't typically share your problems with others, you recognized that confiding in someone at a time like this was necessary to maintain your sanity.

“Chenle kissed me last night,” you tossed the statement out in the air, hoping you wouldn’t regret it.

Renjun’s eyes widened at this revelation, “He did?!”

“Well you see, we’ve kissed before. But this time it felt different,” you clarified, baffling the boy across from you even more. Internally cringing, you were acutely aware of how bad this sounded.

Before he could question, you continued to elaborate. “Look, it's not as complicated as it sounds. It’s just ever since we agreed to be each other’s first kiss, Chenle and I just keep having these…accidental kisses. Whether it’s out of excitement or to get guys hitting on me to go away.”

Renjun listened quietly as you recounted all the other times you’ve kissed Chenle. When you circled back to the previous night, you felt more conflicted than ever.

“But the kiss last night left me feeling so confused,” you confessed, running a hand through your hair. “Initially, I thought he was just doing it out of comfort, but now I’m not so sure.”

“Well, have you considered the possibility that he has feelings for you?” Renjun inquired, crossing his arms. His suggestion sounded so simple, yet it felt like navigating uncharted territory in your mind.

You shook your head in denial. “N—No, I mean we’ve been best friends for five years. He can’t possibly see me that way.”

“Like that’s ever stopped friends from falling for each other,” Renjun cocked his head. “It doesn’t take a genius to know that he likes you, (Y/n).”

His point made you mentally curse. If you looked at your history with Chenle from an objective point of view, the two of you certainly didn’t act like normal best friends.

“And, it’s pretty obvious that you like him too,” Renjun added, twirling the pencil between his fingers.

His statement left you feeling exposed, as if you had been caught red-handed committing a crime. Laughing nervously, you shook your head, “Renjun, we’re just friends. I…I don’t see him that way.”

Renjun raised an eyebrow, “Friends who kiss? Did you really not feel anything in those moments?”

Your teeth sank further into your lower lip as Renjun’s question hit you. The reality of your feelings for Chenle lingered in the air, challenging the facade you had built to convince yourself otherwise. It was like trying to hold sand in your fists, slipping away no matter how tightly you clenched. The truth, however inconvenient, seemed to be unraveling before you.

“I…I did feel something,” you slowly admitted, “But I never said anything because I didn’t want our friendship to change. It just seemed easier to pretend those moments were nothing more than accidents.”

Renjun’s eyes softened with understanding. “Well maybe a little change is what you need in your friendship.”

Maybe Renjun was onto something, perhaps change was necessary. In the past, you had always held out on dating, using the excuse that you were waiting for the right person. Despite the fear of potential rejection, what if Chenle was the person you had been waiting for all along?

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Chenle’s living room bathed in the gentle glow of the TV screen, a familiar sight during your Friday movie nights since college began. It was supposed to be a time to unwind, to escape the pressures of school for a little while. However, instead of the usual peaceful and easygoing atmosphere, an unspoken tension hung in the air tonight. Beyond picking a movie and deciding who made the popcorn, you and Chenle barely talked. The weight of the unspoken words made the space feel suffocating, and you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in your chest.

Unable to endure the weighty silence any longer, you turned your head to make a lame comment about the movie. However, before you could speak, Chenle beat you to it.

“Can we talk?” His voice carried a hint of restlessness, an unusual departure from his usual tone.

Trying to maintain a casual demeanor, you lightly nodded. With your acknowledgment, Chenle exhaled deeply and sat up straighter to face you properly.

“I know how crazy this might sound,” he started, running a hand through his hair. “But I’ve been thinking, and I don’t think we can stay friends.”

His words felt like a gun being pointed at your chest, panic surged within you as you tried to process the boy’s words. Of all the ways you predicted this conversation could go, this was not one of them.

“What do you mean?” you asked, your voice even smaller than his.

Noticing the perplexity in your eyes, Chenle continued. “You see, I've been in love with you for—I don’t know how long. But I spent all these years burying my feelings like a fool, because I never thought you’d see me that way. Yet, every time we kiss, it becomes harder for me to ignore my feelings for you.”

Chenle glanced down at his folded hands, vulnerability seeping into those brown orbs of his. “The other night made me realize that I don’t want to just be friends who kiss anymore. I want to be something more to you.”

His words lingered in the air now that they were out in the open. Your heart raced faster than it ever has before, as your cheeks flushed with heat. Chenle’s eyes bore into yours, his expression nervous yet hopeful.

For a moment, you were left speechless. But you still had the sense to hit him on the shoulder, scolding, “Oh my gosh, you can’t start a conversation like that, Chenle. You scared me!”

The boy chuckled sheepishly, rubbing his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that. But seriously, (Y/n), I meant what I said.”

A mix of emotions played on your face before you quietly admitted, “Honestly, I’ve wanted to be something more to you since that day we kissed in my bedroom.”

You noticed a smile of relief beginning to form on his lips, but you held up a finger before he could say anything. Now that he had taken the first step, you decided it was time for you to do the same.

“But I kept trying to convince myself that all the times we kissed were accidental or just for comfort,” you confessed, looking directly into his eyes. “And the reason I’ve been pushing away my feelings for you was because I was afraid of losing a friend who means the world to me.”

His hand rested on top of yours, the light touch sending a shiver down your spine. “You don’t have to be afraid because you’ll never lose me, (Y/n).”

The softness and sincerity in his eyes made you want to cry for some inexplicable reason. You once believed that confessing your feelings for Chenle would only lead to frustration and heartbreak. However, as you sat here with him, holding his hand, those worries seemed to vanish.

“So…what do we do now?” you asked, unsure of what was supposed to come next in these situations.

A mischievous glint danced in his eyes as he grinned. “I think this is the part where we kiss. But you know, as boyfriend and girlfriend.”

Just as you were processing his words, he moved closer, his breath warm against your skin, making your heart flutter. His eyes searched yours for permission.

“Well, what are you waiting for then?” you whispered.

With that, the distance between you closed, and your lips met in a tender kiss. It was a sweet surrender, a culmination of years of friendship and suppressed feelings. Although this wasn’t your first kiss with Chenle, it felt that way in a sense. For you could finally savor the tender feeling of his lips without questioning the intention behind it.

In that moment, all you focused on was the way Chenle had his hand on the small of your back, guiding you closer as he deepened the kiss. Your fingers found their way to rest on the nape of his neck, feeling the warmth of his skin.

Although the change in this dynamic had just begun, this newfound connection promised countless moments of shared laughter, whispered confessions, and the sweet warmth of shared kisses. You had a feeling that you could easily get used to this beautiful new normal. By the way Chenle smiled during the kiss, you could tell he felt the same way.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

#nct dream #kpop #nctzen #czennie #nct dream imagines #chenle imagine #chenle fic #nct dream fic #chenle x reader #zhong chenle #nct scenarios #kpop fic #nct dream x reader #chenle #chenle scenarios

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faerievampling · 1 month

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Killing Time

Chapter 7: Eternity's Promise

Summary: Astarion is alone.

Word Count: 4.9k

Pairing: Soft Ascended Astarion x Female Spawn Tav/Reader

Warning: 18+. Blood and Violence. PiV. Cunnilingus. Handjob. Masturbation. Obsessing over his consort’s panties. Obsessive and Possessive behavior. Heavy trigger warning for Panic Attack & Anxiety. Our vampire lord really going through it.

Link to AO3!

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6.

Masterlist

A/N: yall this one was hard to write and took way longer than I intended, i hope I did it justice. please enjoy <3 I’m hoping chapter 8 will be out soon, I have 4 days off next week (mini vacation!) so I still intent to post chapter 8 this coming week :)

Pic by: @druidess-vp <3

Astarion believed he hadn’t forgotten what true suffering felt like: there had been too many times in his past where he was tortured, beaten, starved – no, he had certainly suffered. But the vampire lord had been out of touch with his pain for a long time, enveloped in a loving, fairy-tale-like existence with his darling consort, so perfect and submissive, for the past two thousand years.

Astarion had everything he could ever want: riches, power, eternal love.

Even when he listened to the news from the realms, on how multiple nations had evolved to civil war, the threat of societal breakdown imminent, he had you, which was enough for him. Everything else could be rebuilt, just like the Ancunín name – but you couldn’t be replaced.

“Involve the military. Whatever needs to be done, have it done,” Astarion demanded, his frustration growing immensely as he was acutely aware of his wife’s discomfort at the banquet; but he had to ignore it. Astarion had an incredibly powerful mind after his ascent, but that didn’t stop him from feeling mentally spread thin.

“The people are already marching to the capital of Amn. Neverwinter has been taken by a militia,” A man said; Astarion hardly bothered to memorize the faces of his advisors and other figureheads, anymore. It was easier to identify them by scent alone.

Astarion mindlessly twists his wedding ring, the only one he had chosen to wear. He wanted to protect the Ancunín fortune and the power he’d consolidated, if possible – and most of all, he really didn’t want to have to handle the managing of accounts during a coup.

Suddenly, Astarion senses a strange feeling – one that he is familiar with, instantly recognizing it: a vision is coming over you, and he’s already racing towards you, wasting no time excusing himself.

“Astarion, Astarion, Astarion!” Your voice rang out in his head as you called his name over and over. Your fear was imminent, your panic rising by the second.

“I’m coming, my love!” Astarion desperately responds, but your cries only continue, racking through his mind as your fear becomes his own.

“Follow,” Astarion commands Alpohso and Ygritte, who obey immediately.

Snip.

Astarion’s eyes widen. There is something bubbling inside him, deep in his chest, threatening to blossom as he digs his nails into his palm. It’s painful, making his heart physically ache. Your thoughts and feelings slip away from him, making that void between the two of you entirely empty: Astarion only hears his own thoughts reverberating in his mind.

Upon viewing the Vampire Ascendant when the cord is cut with his consort, he merely pauses, his intensity so frightening that his spawn tremble with fear, dropping to their knees, ready to serve their Master in whatever way possible. He is empty, a vassal of space that is filled with a vicious anger so feral and vile that Astarion himself fears it. He doesn’t understand what’s happened: he knows you aren’t dead, because he would just know if you were, but he can’t sense you anymore, can’t probe into your mind, and for the first time in two millennia, Astarion finds himself alone.

You are his: his first spawn, his favorite spawn, his consort, his wife, his best friend, his one and only. “Where the hells are you?”

Astarion doesn’t come back to himself until he hears the high pitched screaming of a woman in his ear. He is back at the crèche, in a grand hall he doesn’t even recognize. Astarion knows he followed your scent here, to the end of the trail.

The blonde servant is holding onto a pile of blood and guts on the floor, the gore slipping through her hands as she clutches her chest. Looking at the blood on his hands, he couldnt be sure what he’d done to the spawn, but Astarion thought the servant was surely being dramatic – Ruth would heal, he was a vampire for god's sakes, and the pain the couple felt was nothing compared to how Astarion himself felt.

Something about seeing the two lovers together makes Astarion even more angry, his fury growing steady with every passing moment of your absence. Your voice plays back in his head, your image, the memory of your tender touch…

Cynthia sobs echo through the chamber of the dining hall, even louder than the crowd of gith that hung around the corridor, as she brings her wrist to Ruth’s mouth: the vampire latches on, sucking greedily at his lover. Astarion thinks it might make him feel better if he killed Ruth’s beloved; it would be an apt punishment for the spawn, but it wouldn’t be great enough. Astarion didn’t think any punishment would. Moving towards the couple, Astarion feels a hand on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

The hand is firm, not aggressive but assertive. The hold on him isn’t trying to keep his fist, but get his attention; Astarion turns to see Lae’zel, her makeup smudged and eyes filled with common fury.

Astarion can hear the sound of the Kith’rak attempting to clear the hall, followed by a barrage of questions from the crowd.

Astarion flinches away from her, her touch only making his skin crawl. He flits through her mind before she can even speak, gathering all the information the gith had about your disappearance. You vanished through a portal of darkness, Ziir’o had grabbed your hand, but the force was too strong, and you slipped away.

Lae’zel begins to speak, but Astarion moves past her, deciding Ziir’o should also be punished. But Astarion stops, recognizing something in the eyes of several of the gith: they, too, longed for you. It only reminded him of your absence, of that blank space in his mind that only increased, like the never ending expansion of the universe.

“You promised me forever, Tav.”

Instead of crushing the young gith’s chest and eating his heart, Astarion materializes into red mist, flitting away from the scene to scan the crèche for any sign of you. After many hours, he finds himself in the enchanted forest, zipping through the trees and murdering anything in sight.

The cavern in his chest only grows more hollow, and Astarion finds himself crying out for you with every stab, every bite, until his throat feels sore. He ran himself to the point of exhaustion, and although he would recover quickly, the wild thumping of Astarion’s heart made him feel a bit more steady. Alive, reminding him that he was still here, even if you weren’t, which means that he would just have to get you back.

Once Astarion finds his way back to your room, he numbly lays himself on your side of the bed, his nose rubbing into your pillowcase. He knows he can't waste any time, and he will only stay like this for a moment – but it’s a moment he needs, because he’s feeling your absence wash over him all over again, threatening to sweep him off his feet.

He finds himself in a daze, and there is a feeling in his heart that could only be described as frigid. Astarion brushes his fingers through his silver curls, closing his eyes as he accepts how wrong he was to think he ever understood suffering.

****

Astarion rests for only a moment before his mind is itching at him again, his thoughts on loop as his heart churns in his stomach. He felt desperate for your scent, desperate for any sign of you: he found his way to your laundry, finding the clothes you had worn to training that the servant hadn’t gotten around to washing yet.

They smelled distinctly of your sweat, your blood, and he needed your odor close to him – gods did his chest ache. Astarion would swear on his life his heart wasn’t physically beating right in his chest: he imagined it bruised and broken, fragmented, all its pieces being held by you, leaving behind a shell of a man.

Astarion lays your clothing on the bed, finding himself clutching your silk panties in his hand. They were white, perfect for one so demure and delicate as his beautiful spawn wife –

Bringing the crotch of your underclothes to his nose, he closes his eyes as he takes in your most intimate scent: but it only makes him feel a deep ache inside, his hardening cock only making matters worse. “I need you, Tav.”

He decides to lose himself in the moment, to escape the looming pain: freeing his member, the warmth of his hand and the fabric of your soft panties has him coming undone quicker than anticipated. His strokes are rough, fast, and he’s imagining your hot, wet mouth wrapped around the base of his cock, his tip reaching the back of your throat. Your eyes would always tear up, but you were such a champion for him –

Astarion lets out a strangled cry as he shoots thick spurts of come, careful not to soil your underclothes, his tears falling before he can stop them.

Astarion doesn’t understand how this has happened: doesn’t understand how he will begin to fathom that you are gone. He knows he must act soon, but his entire body is aching for you, his hands shaking. His orgasm only made him feel your absence more, and Astarion is cursing himself.

Suddenly, Astarion remembers the necklace, the warding bond, and he’s grabbing at his throat, only to find the twinkle of the gem had died. Astarion can’t help but imagine you dead, or chained up somewhere, being used – the thought makes him sick.

Moth had you. It was the only person in the world who would take you from him. Astarion had left you alone, and now you were gone, and it was entirely the worst feeling he could recall, other than when Cazador’s blade carved the symphony of the contract into his back.

Astarion really couldn’t waste anymore time, he decided. He needed to know the specifics of how you were taken and where: he knew about several of Moth’s palaces, and who knows how many more the dragonborn might have, but he may be able to narrow it down if he could get close enough to search for your scent.

Once Astarion’s recovered, he stuffs your panties into his pocket before gathering your things; he’s interrupted by a brief knock on the door before it swings open. Lae’zel enters, followed by the spawn and your warriors, all ten of them. Astarion hissed at the intrusion, not wanting any of them to muck up the smell of you that still lingered in the room.

Lae’zel immediately notices Astarion’s bloodshot eyes. She remembers something an old hero said, something about vampire lords not being able to love, only craving one thing. The state of her pale friend makes Lae’zel question if what the old hero said was anything more than plain ignorance.

Their conversation happens in a snapshot, Astarion’s tone lifeless but nonetheless frightening: “This is your fault.”

Lae’zel blinks. “You needn’t be absurd. We are here to help you, Astarion.”

Astarion doesn’t respond for some time; he is thinking about your smile, his deplorable thoughts twisting this precious image to one of your fangs piercing the throat of a dragonborn. Astarion had heard Moth was known for his exotic beauty, and he is seething at the very thought of you caressing scaled skin.

It was worse if he was taking you by force, if you weren’t enjoying it – that is only the cruelest torture, and Astarion is prepared to tear across realms to prevent this from happening. But if Astarion was being honest with himself, it hurt him more to imagine that you were enjoying your time with this other man. This other vampire…this other lord. ‘He will be her new Master.’ The thought has Astarion crawling in his flesh. He had to have you back, either way. And he was not so proud to deny help, not when it came to you.

“A wizard. We need a good one.” Astarion looked around the room, his hand involuntarily grabbing at the fabric in his pocket, almost as if to check they were still there. He would have to find something else to track you, something of yours that he was willing to part with: your adorable white panties were not one of them.

The gith nod at his request, Lae’zel sending one of the young ones to fetch a shirt of yours.There is something about Astarion’s aura that clears the room, leaving only Lae’zel and the spawn behind, who kneel whenever Astarion is idle. It deeply unsettles Lae’zel, but something about this entire situation felt off to her.

“Is it not strange, to you, that this lord betrays the nature of vampires by taking a spawn he didn’t create?” Lae’zel asks, wiping away a smudge of makeup with a finger. Drenched in sweat and a few tears, It had been a long night for her. Handling Orpheus and the Kith’rak’s reaction to the situation had her reeling: Orpehus was more apt to help, but Elan wanted the vampires gone. Lae’zel and Orpehus had the final say, of course, and she was permitted to continue doing what she was doing: gathering her fighters and spreading her cause in whichever way needed to happen. She couldn’t leave Astarion like this and knew this was the next part of her strange journey.

“It’s not that strange if you consider the fact that this lord is utterly insane.” Astarion also thought it was rather strange how the Crystalline Spire had no windows, and it made him feel even more closed in. “And I am the only vampire alive who matches him in power. It was only a matter of time before he attempted to take me down.”

“He is a red dragonborn, correct?”

“Yes.”

“It is in their nature to hoard. You’re sure his first name is Geldon? Geldon Moth, the red dragonborn?” Lae’zel’s quizzical tone was beginning to irritate Astarion.

Astarion looked to his spawn. “Up. Gather.” Lae’zel watches uneasily as the two spawn begin to collect the rest of your things. “What do you mean to say?”

“He can’t be much older than you, Astarion. Dragonborn had only been in Toril for hardly two hundred years when you and Tav met.”

“Don’t say her name,” Astarion’s voice was a force that barreled through Lae’zel’s mind, causing her to grab the sides of her head in anguish. The corner of Astarion’s mouth twitches, relishing in the way her heart flutters with fear.

“Do you think I'm an idiot, Lae’zel?” Astarion’s heart is filled with fury, with grief, and Lae’zel backs up to brace herself for a fight. His knees are bent, and he’s nearly crouched, like a predator. “He is only a hundred years older than me. He was named and raised by humans after his parents were slaughtered, and he was created by a vampire far greater than I.”

Astarion pauses, his face softer than Lae’zel had seen before. “Lae’zel. Moth has resources beyond what I’ve amassed. He has a harem of spawn who fight for him, and even more thralls. If I could find the bastard, I could probably take him down myself, but he’s well protected. And he has what is most precious to me. I have to be careful…I have to think.”

But Astarion was having a hard time thinking of anything but you.

Lae’zel steeled herself, clearly shaken by the situation.”And you have a hoard of gith. And the daylight. And me, of course.” She gave him a weak smile, but it was one Astarion oddly appreciated. He doesn’t return it, but stares at her for what feels like an eternity to Lae’zel before the spawn are kneeling before him once more, prepared for their next task.

“I must do whatever to get her back. At any cost.”

Lae’zel pauses. There is something she doesn’t understand, something she’s missing: the empty look in Astarion’s eyes gives it away. But she retreats, knowing when to choose her battles.

“We’re returning home for the time being. Ring me once your witch doctor is done with his tricks.” With that, Lae’zel watches as Astarion turns the corner, disheveled silver curls disappearing at the bend.

“Wait!” Lae’zel runs after him. “Let me come with you, Astarion.”

Astarion turns to her, unable to hide the glassy look in his eyes. He flits through her mind with ease.“You think you still love her. And what you feel for her, Lae’zel, is so very little compared to the bond I share with my wife.”

Lae’zel’s cheeks flush. “My feelings matter not, Astarion. Our friend, Tav, is missing –“ Astarion turns around, but Lae’zel continues, sensing that despite his actions, he was still listening. “I wouldn’t ever leave her behind. Gale, Karlach, Shadowheart, Wyll…none of us would ever have let harm come to her. It will be that way all my life, as it was for theirs.”

Astarion hardly reacts, already leagues away. “Do whatever you want. You know how to find me.”

****

Astarion isn’t surprised when Lae’zel shows up with five githyanki fighters on her heels; Astarion immediately knows it’s your warriors, the ones whose scents tended to linger on you longer than the others. He meets them in the portal room of your palace, the one the Ancunín’s called home.

“Our mages have yet to find any trace of her on Toril,” Lae’zel’s words inspire only frustration within Astarion. “Astarion, tell me why you cannot sense her on your own.”

Astarion turns, his back to Lae’zel and the others. Silently commanding his spawn to escort the gith out, Lae’zel and Astarion are left alone in his office. He turns to a large painting of you, noticing it having caught Lae’zel’s eye.

In the picture, you’re looking over your bare shoulder, your long hair cascading down your back. The expression on your face is soft, your plush lips parted in a way that made you look girlish. Your red eyes seemed to follow Lae’zel, who decided she much preferred your old eye color.

“I’ve had many of her done over the years. That one is my favorite.” This wasn’t true, but Lae’zel didn’t need to know about the collection of lewd paintings Astarion had of you hanging in the boudoir.

“When was this painting of her done? It’s lovely.” She asks, her tone as steady as her arm.

“Around eight centuries ago.”

“It’s difficult to fathom that much time has passed,” Lae’zel takes a breath in. “You know, I still remember how she reacted on the docks when the tadpole died.”

Astarion flinches at the thought. When the tadpole died, your vampirism became fully actualized; your hunger had become immediately apparent, uncomfortable. Your senses had drastically sharpened, the smell of blood and guts and the sound of beating hearts hitting you all at once. Your eyes widened, filling with tears as your hunger pains wrecked you. Astarion had felt it, your pain, because your vampiric connection had solidified in that moment: it was beautiful, terrifying, and it was then Astarion knew he would always be a slave to you.

Astarion had to take you away from the others, feeding you from his own wrist while doing his best to restrain you until you got your fill. If you were full, your hunger was easy to control – and a vampire’s hunger is everlasting, even if the vampire has special abilities.

“She didn’t suffer for long that day. I’ve taken care of her from the moment I made her mine,” Astarion narrows his eyes at her, raising his voice as he feels his anger rising. “Why do you bring up the past? What relevance does this have to finding her?”

“You must know where I stand with you, Astarion. I still cannot bring myself to forgive you for turning her into a vampire. For stealing her life, which you so happily did.”

Astarion grimaces before flashing his fangs at her. He hadn’t really the energy to spare. He sighs before he speaks. “I can easily read your mind, Lae’zel. All your pointless words amount to nothing, to me, because I really don’t give a shit. The only thing I care about is getting my wife back. Hats off to you for saying it to my face, I suppose.”

“She was different after that.”

“Still on about that, are we? We both made sacrifices so that we could spend eternity together. That was my promise to her, and I intend to keep it. Let's not waste anymore time.”

****

After a long day of traversing portals across Toril, handling a divide of a once united world, and dealing with the attitude on Lae’zel, Astarion wanted nothing more than to be alone at the end of the day. He had worked through most of the night before Bethild suggested the lord should rest. He had reluctantly agreed.

“Bring me a glass of red, would you?” Astarion didn’t bother to clean his desk: he would be back in just a few hours.

Bethild hesitated for only a moment. “Of course, my Lord.” The request was an odd one coming from Astarion, but Bethild was good and never questioned him.

Astarion was met with your favorite red wine by the time he arrived at the boudoir. He thought it far too strong and bitter to be drunk before bed, but it did taste like you: right at the fall of night, before you washed away the doings of the day. He swished the wine in his mouth, savoring its sour flavor before he swallowed.

Astarion can’t help but dwell on what Lae’zel said: how you were different after your turning. This was undeniably true, Astarion himself having experienced it: you were overall less emotional, but more prone to violence, and you enjoyed combat far more than you ever did. But these things had only made Astarion love you more, and your feelings for him only grew, as well. Astarion would know, because he was always watching his darling.

Astarion hadn’t bothered changing since you vanished, and he realized he was still in the extravagant, elegant clothing he had been in at that stupid meeting about the mortal wars. Studying his ensemble, Astarion feels tight all of a sudden, like he buttoned his clothing too tight, or his chest was being crushed, or like he was underwater – drowning. His breathing quickened until the tips of his fingers went numb, and he was surely dying.

But Astarion reasonably knew that he couldn’t actually die like this: but something inside told him he simply wasn’t safe. Astarion grabs at his collar, yanking the buttons free as he easily tears through the fabric, and he doesn’t stop until he’s on his knees, shredded cloth at his feet. Sitting back on his heels, he brings his ring to his lips before losing all composure. His tears are hot and salty, streaming down his cheeks as his arms move to wrap around his waist. When his fingers brush the scar tissue on his back, he flinches away, not even feeling safe in his own body.

Bringing his hand back to his mouth, Astarion bites his wedding ring, bringing his tongue to the metal, savoring the metallic flavor as he takes a deep breath. He stays like this for some time before gathering himself up. He was a mess, and as he walked to the bathroom to wash up, he caught a glimpse of himself in a vanity mirror.

He wasn’t surprised at his puffy eyes and disheveled hair. Astarion typically gazed into any mirror he could: he adored his reflection, and yours, which had been a triumph of his as a vampire. He was able to give you something that was so cruelly taken from him, and you never had to forget your gorgeous face.

Astarion gazed heavily into his own eyes, which were the same shade of deep crimson as yours. ‘How rare. How sweet.’

Every thought of you burned him, like a double edged sword: to try not thinking of you hurt just as much. Astarion narrows his eyes at himself – even after two millennia of being able to see his reflection, he never got tired of it, but there was something in his expression that was just off. If he looks close enough, if he focuses only on his eyes, he can see you in him…

“I love you, Tav.” But it doesn’t fill the growing void in his chest. The words weren’t a magic spell, even if they felt like it when spoken from your lips. Astarion returns to the bed he once shared with you, your clothes littering the mattress as your beloved vampire desperately tore through your belongings, grabbing anything and everything that smelled like you.

He should have told you that more. How much he adored you – how much he loved you. How his heart beat only for you, and everything he had in this world was nothing without you. How he felt that even with his ascension, even with everything he’s given you, he still hadn’t given enough.

Astarion stays in reverie while he can – at least until the sun comes up. For now, Astarion simply wants to live in memories of you: your smile, your laugh, your smooth, flawless skin, the pitch of your voice…

Astarion’s tongue was between your lips, your kisses languid and sloppy as the two of you lay naked in bed, silken sheets resting at your hips. Astarion has you on your back; he is perched on his elbow, curls falling out of place as he’s forgotten the world around him.

His tongue sucked and stroked your own, a trail of saliva connecting your lips when he pulled away to look at you. “My treasure…”

Astarion twitches. This had been right before Lae’zel showed up and ruined it all. Astarion goes back further, to a more lewd memory:

Your cunt was sucking his cock in, taking him so relentlessly that he felt like you wouldn’t ever let him go. His hands roamed your body, his fingers stopping to tug at your nipple, the hardening bud sensitive enough to make your back arch just from his touch.

He softly ruts into you, causing a whimper to escape your lips. “Tell me again, my favorite spawn.” Before you could respond, Astarion grasped your jaw with his hand, meeting your eyes to his. “Obey me.”

“I love you, Master Astarion.”

“Tav…” the elf moans, his mind already involuntarily flickering to another memory.

Astarion is perched at a window. He swiftly breaks the lock, entering the house silently, crouching as he approaches a sleeping man.

The man was tall, muscular, his curly red hair and copper skin immediately having an effect on you. Astarion thought the man rather attractive himself, and permitted you to ask him to bed. He had been invited back to the Ancunín estate many times.

Astarion thinks about the way you cried out the man’s name the last time the three of you were together as he slid the dagger into his throat. The way you run your fingers through the hair on the man’s chest and groin flashes before Astarion’s eyes when the man tries to ask why.

“I won’t share in her heart.”

Astarion opens his eyes, cursing at the wretched memory. He didn't understand why he was dwelling on such things, but the pit in his stomach spoke tenfold: he had never told you the truth about the man’s death, even when you cried after hearing the news of it. He hid the information away from you, one of the few secrets he kept, and it only made his stomach churn to think about it. Astarion shakes these thoughts away as he eases out of the bed and makes his way to the balcony. He breathes in the cool night air, the stars shining bright in the sky as he looks off into the abyss of the city below.

In the coming days, Astarion would be in agony: he wouldn’t rest, his mind flitting to you every second as his thoughts became single minded, obsessive, like he was on a loop that is purely you. Astarion has music playing in the halls continuously, because he began hearing an echo of your voice throughout the palace, and he really thought himself going mad.

He would create many more spawn, sending them out into the night to scout for your scent. Astarion himself would do so for days, even returning to the crèche to ensure he hadn’t missed any information, but all roads lead to nowhere.

On the mantle of the fireplace in the grand boudoir, a painting hangs: you lie on your back, your breasts exposed, the expression in your eyes is hungry, wanting, and your lips are parted just enough to see the tip of your fangs. Your arms are overhead, as if you are lounging in a stretch. Your thighs are together, and when Astarion looks at the painting, he imagines spreading them, taking your folds in his mouth and pleasuring you until you’ve come undone around his tongue. Astarion has thousands of memories of you like this, desperate and whimpering for him, and something about knowing he’s fucked you, his eternal bride, far more times than his body count brings comfort to him.

But no amount of memories could replace you. Tears were unbecoming of a vampire lord, and yet they began to feel like second nature to Astarion.

****

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6.

Masterlist

#astarion x reader #ascended astarion #soft ascended astarion #ascended!astarion #ascended astarion x you #ascended astarion x tav #astarion x female tav #astarion x you #astarion x tav #spawn tav #lord astarion #astarion fanfiction #vampire tav #Killing Time

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thegatorsgoose · 1 year

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Mourning Dove notes, batch #1

So since I am a very visual thinker, whenever I post my ideas (that aren't in-the-moment rants, that is) I like to draw something for it. It's the closest thing I can get to transferring something directly from my brain to yours. Unfortunately, I have a lot of thoughts, which means I have a lot of drawings I want to make to help get my points across. And since it's easier to write my ideas down as they come to me anyway, I'll be posting Mourning Dove stuff in batches, drawing + notes = a batch :)

Speaking of the drawing part, this is actually a redraw of fanart I did for Wayne's Haunted Mansion I drew a while ago, so you can actually use the bear as a size reference! He's bigger than Bearwing now, but to be fair the bears not that big. Danny, at 14, is 5”2 at most, probably closer to 5’0. He's still a small king.

I decided to have him be 14 when he becomes a vigilante because 1. That seems like a reasonable amount of time for him to have recovered mentally and physically enough for him to be able to handle unfamiliar environments and have the training necessary to be cautious and know when and how to step in (at least 4 years of training + his powers make him a tiny terror).

2. Yo Danny Phantom he was just 14

This batch is going to be dedicated to why Danny is this au has autism and ADHD, and how that affects him. The why will come from the original fanfic this au is based on, Wayne’s Haunted Mansion by @tathartiel (which you should definitely read if you enjoy dp x dc!). How it affects him will mostly be part of the au. Ok? Ok. I tend to ramble a bit but I tried to make it easy to follow.

First of all, Danny enjoys knitting! He's already sewing, it's only the natural progression for him to find out about knitting, and the family would definitely try to encourage the hobby with less sharp tools. It gives him something to do with his hands, and at the end of the day he has something he made all by himself, something he can be proud of. He loves making stuff for people he cares about, he likes knowing he can do something to keep his loved ones warm, whether by making a blanket, scarf, sweater- you name it. He's definitely not great at first, but he does practice a lot. Whenever he's nervous or fidgety, it's nice to do something with his hands.

One of his favorite parts of knitting is the yarn itself. Specifically the texture and feel of certain yarns. The Waynes are rich so they have no problem supplying him with extremely soft yarns to make the softest sweaters and blankets. And you know how he loves pillows? Well I'd imagine that he’d also love the extremely thick, pillowy yarn. He uses it to make a huge blanket that enhances his pillow nest 10 fold. The day he got a giant roll of thick fluffy yarn he spent all day making a giant fluffy blanket out of it, and the following night shoving it in the birds and bats faces so they can experience the bliss that is the feeling of his new soft, pillowy creation.

Speaking of textures, Danny loves hoodies, especially his Batman hoodie(s). Not only so that he can physically show his appreciation for his family, but that they are warm and soft on the inside, and make him feel secure. His siblings have all gotten him their merch at one point or another, but it wasn't until Jason got him Red Hood merch in the form of a leather jacket did they realize that texture could be a problem. The inside was just not working for Danny, but he was happy to have merch so he tried to ignore it to make Jason happy. It lasted until dinner that night, Danny had a breakdown because the uncomfortable feel of the jacket was agitating him and suddenly the klinks of silverware on plates was to loud, the scrapes and stabs of forks hitting the plates felt like he was physically being hit on the head, and the vibration of the table when someone moved felt like pins and needles going through his arms that were resting on the table. It all became too much for him and he excused himself from the table with a wobbly chirp before promptly disappearing.

It wasn't until later that night, before Jason left, that he reappeared in front of him, tears in his eyes, and handed back the jacket with a guilty chirp. It took Jason some prodding to get Danny to explain why he was handing it back, and then when he finally understood it took a lot more convincing to get Danny to understand it's ok to not like the jacket, no i'm not mad at you, its ok. After he got Danny to calm down he left the manor and informed the rest of the group chat of the new development… and then got Danny another, comfier Red Hood jacket. Bruce, having autism himself (i'm not even sure if that's a headcanon or canon at this point), helps Danny in making sure he knows its ok to feel that way about certain textures and asks what textures he likes and doesn't like, even writes them down so when buying something online or getting something tailored, they can make sure it won't be uncomfortable. His siblings 100% take advantage of this list and start a sort of unspoken competition of who can buy Danny his favorite piece of merch.

Speaking of merch, he has a hoodie of every single Gotham vigilante and wears one almost 24/7. The media was given the vague explanation that Batman saved him from a physically abusive household at 10 (or whatever his age ends up actually being, they don't reveal his existence to the world until he's 12, where by that point he can change back into his human form comfortably. I'm making the assumption he eventually can for the au cus I don’t know everything) so they just assume it's hero worship from that. His siblings however know that it's because he loves them and thinks they're the coolest people ever. Everyone thinks he's adorable anyway. When he first saw Mourning Dove merch he was super excited, until he realized it would be too uncomfortable to wear. Later that week when Bruce gives him a tailor made Dove hoodie, he cried. (Bruce totally won the competition for it, the kids are just a little bitter about it)

Merch was made for him because Gotham does know Mourning Dove exists, mostly from eye witness accounts of the baddies he took down, but also from the literal one blurry video of him that exists. It shows Dove holding onto Batman's cape as Red Robin talks. This was taken on his first official patrol, so he was a little nervous. At first Gotham was mad at Batman for bringing yet another child into the fold, until all the criminals Dove brought in came back terrified. They realized they really should have learned their lesson from the latest Robin, and now just respect their funky shadow child.

However Dove doesn't actually come out all that often. He started his vigilante career because he got wrapped up in the supernatural side of Gotham, at first it was just helping the occasional stray ghost find their haunt, but you know how dangerous magic and the supernatural world can get in just the blink of an eye. Think Jujutsu Kaisen, he was able to see Gotham spirits causing and feeding off of citizens misery, and he just can't not help. When the Batfam realizes what he's doing, he's fully committed to helping the spirit of Gotham deal with her curse. They know there's nothing they can do to stop him, so they do the next best thing and give him armor, a mask and a weapon. They also up his training, which they had been doing before because… it's Gotham. So Mourning Dove doesn't actually come out as often as the others, just either when they're down on members, there's an emergency and need his powers, they want to teach him something, or when he just asks.

… Anyway, back on topic. Another way his autism affects him is making him mostly nonverbal/selectively mute. I'm making the assumption that they eventually do get his voice back, but at that point he can adequately communicate without his voice, using chirps and gestures. He knows now that if he needs to talk (talking to a stranger, needing to explain something more complicated, etc) he usually can. Usually. If he's stressed or uncomfortable in any way, he often finds that he can't talk. Thankfully he's been learning sign language for a few years now and can get across simple ideas and feelings just fine in a pinch. And sometimes, he doesn't even feel bad. And yet still, he can't find it in himself to speak. In those cases, if he needs to explain something complicated, he can write it down. He's gotten a lot better! And if he ever trips up, he can always look it up or use autocorrect if it's over text.

Another thing his trama definitely made a lot worse is that he has episodes of hypersensitivity. An analogy I once heard is that most minds are like doors, and most people can choose to shut the door on small pieces of information that are deemed unnecessary. Like the ticking of a clock, or the scratching of pencils around a classroom. But people with adhd can’t choose to closes those doors, and the flood of information can easily overstimulate us. With his super hearing this definitely becomes a problem, and I can only imagine it gets worse when in crowds. I actually already talked about this, with bad textures. Often we can ignore the extra sensory input and go on with our day, but when faced with something that agitates us, it opens the floodgates to make everything agitate us. The sounds of dinner don't usually annoy Danny, but with the extra bad sensory input that he just couldn't ignore, it made it so he couldn't ignore other pieces of input like usual, and it became too much for him. I usually counteract overstimulation by wearing headphones or earbuds, and while I know Danny definitely has noise canceling devices made for the supers with him 24/7 just in case, I think he deals with it, again, by controlling the texture of the cloths he’s wearing and using it to fidget. He counteracts the negative input by surrounding himself with positive input. If he's not in public or that doesnt work, he’ll curl up into himself and rock back and forth, countering the input with a soothing motion and clenching onto his skin like a stress ball. Of course, that's if Cujo, his service dog, isn't there to help him through it.

One thing that carries over into the future is his short attention span. curse you ADHD! He has trouble sitting still and concentrating on a task that doesn't interest him. However he still LOVES space, and often hyperfixates on it. He’ll sit in front of the tv or a tablet and watch documentaries for hours without moving an inch. The first time this happened the batfam where scared something was wrong, maybe he's having an episode and can't move? But when they approached him to see if he was alright he started wildly flapping his arms and letting out excited chirps, till he noticed the look on their face and got out his phone. An hour later he sent them a poorly written, excited and long text about his favorite star in the galaxy to the family group chat. Suffice it to say, space is his special interest. Since then they started using it as a way to get him to sit still or to distract him. Often it helps to play a documentary in the background while he does a task that doesn't interest him so he won't get so bored he up and leaves.

Last but not least, he has trouble understanding social cues. This is absolutely not helped by how sheltered he is in the social department. Danny's part ghost, and ghosts don’t really lie. It's just not a thing they do. They are loud and honest with their intentions, no beating around the bush. Danny just doesn't understand why people aren't straightforward as well. Danny is very honest and says exactly what he means. I always find this ironic when reading the actual story, that the one person in the family (minus Alfred) that's good at communicating can't talk. This is something that becomes an issue with Bruce and his habit of not using his words to talk. I'd like to imagine that, in trying to set a good example for his youngest son yet, he’d realize the importance of communication, and how he communicates.

You could argue that a lot of these traits come from his trauma, and you're absolutely right. It definitely contributes to making some of these traits a lot stronger than before in this au as well. However, I don't want to just make it all a trauma response because then it sort of implies something is… wrong with him. That there's something to fix. And I don't want him to be treated like that. There's nothing wrong with him liking hoodies. There's nothing wrong with him not wanting to talk. There's nothing wrong with him loving space so much. Those are just a part of who he is. Everyone has quirks, and those are his. I don't want the batfamily to obsess with fixing him, or try to make him “normal.” I want them to accommodate his needs like they do for everyone else in the family. I want them to accept him, and his flaws, like a normal person. Not look at him like he's broken. After everything, he deserves a family who accepts him, chirps and all.

Tldr of the last paragraph: making everything a trama thing makes people sad and want to help “fix” him instead of treating him like a normal person. I aint having that in my au so even if he wasn't hurt the way he was, he would still act like this. There's nothing wrong with Danny, he just needs to be accommodated for and treated like a normal person.

Bonus: close up and flat colors (idk if you can even see them but I am way more proud of those eyelashes than I have any right to be)

#art #digital art #my art #dp x dc #dpxdc #danny phantom #batman #fanart #dp x dc fanart #dp x dc fanfic #Wayne’s haunted mansion #mourning dove #mourning dove au

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byeoltoyuki · 8 months

Text

✧ Give it to me ✧ - part 1

↳ Pairing: Bangchan x Reader / Felix x Reader (kind of)

❧ Genre : gang au / romance / smut / strangers to lovers / fluff / some fake texts

❧ Words: 31k

Part 1 : +17k ⎢Part 2 : +13k

❧ Warnings : Violence / mention of death / guns / mention of drugs / mention of human trafficking / smut (in part 2)

❧ Summary: Everything in life has a cost. Even freedom. To be finally out of your father’s clutches you were ready for everything. Including making a deal with the Devil.

❧ A/N: After rewritting this story twice, I'm finally done with it. Can't say it was easy and I can't thank enough my friends who had to deal with my mental breakdowns, all my complaining and frustration. Thank you to my baby koala for this lovely moodboard ❤️

It was supposed to be a prompt but somehow I got carried away.

Since tumblr didn't let me post the story in one part, I cut it. The 2nd part will come out shortly ❤️.

Hope you enjoy your reading!

▾▾▾

“Boss wants to see you.” Ren interrupted your peaceful, and only way of escape, reading time as he stepped inside your room without knocking.

You barely glanced at him. One, your book was way more interesting than whatever he had to say. Two, it was Ren, your bodyguard, and your probably only friend in this place, which meant he was completely used to your behavior and could definitely deal with it. Three, the mention of the ‘Boss’ who happened to be your father, was a good enough excuse for ignoring him.

And Ren expected nothing less from you. From the moment he was asked to bring you to your father’s office, he knew, he was sent to a bloody loud battle. “Can you please for once make it easy?”

You slammed the book shut, giving him your undivided attention, trying to look as sweet and innocent as possible. Which would have worked on anyone other than Ren. He had seen it all and saw through you. Not surprising (yet still incredibly annoying in your opinion) considering you had spent the last two years in his company. Two years in hell could be a very long time.

“You’d get bored if it was easy.” You commented and crawled to the edge of your bed; eyes locked on him.

Ren considered for a moment to just throw you over his shoulder and carry you to the office. It was so damn tempting. Instead, he sighed and pleaded. “Please.”

“Boring.” You huffed, disappointed. However, you quickly recovered from your disappointment as you spotted a bright red cut showing from under his shirt. You frowned and immediately got on your feet. “What’s this?” You pulled at his shirt too harshly, fingers brushing the cut – Ren winced and slapped your hand away.

“Nothing.” But it wasn’t nothing. If Ren could read you like a book, so could you. You had been around him long enough to pick up his habits, especially when he was lying. He was trying to look everywhere except at your face and he was clenching his fists.

Ren wanted you to drop the subject, he didn’t need you to be noisy about it and do something probably incredibly stupid that would attract attention on the two of you. But he knew a lost battle when he saw one.

And he was right. You reached for the edge of his shirt and lifted it without asking for his permission, knowing damn well he wouldn’t agree to it, knowing he would do anything to avoid troubling you. Your grip on his shirt tightened, knuckles turning white, as you saw the damage. His chest wasn’t covered in just cuts but also with bright purple bruises.

“Who?” You whispered, voice shaking in both anger and pain.

“I got into a fight with John.” Ren ended up admitting. He could have tried to lie his way out, but one glance at your face was enough to convince him that telling the truth was the better option.

You let go of his shirt and took a step back. Of course, it was John. Nobody in their right mind would mess with Ren, he was known for being a strong fighter and a cold killer. But John? John was your father’s right-hand and a real piece of shit. You had known him half of your life and hated it him from day one.

You counted to ten, breath in, breath out. Nope, still angry.

“This fucker! God, can he just die already? Nobody is going to mourn him.” You yelled in frustration. “Except maybe for my father.” You pointed an accusing finger at him. “Why the hell did you let him beat the crap out of you? I refuse to believe that you’re weaker than him.”

Ren was touched that you had such a high opinion of his skills. “I’m not. But John is Boss’s right-hand. I can’t mess with him without risking my position. Unless you want someone else as your bodyguard.”

You cringed at his suggestion. You didn’t want him to be your bodyguard to begin with, but with time you got used to him. But getting another one? Hell no.

“What does he want?” You changed the subject.

“No idea.” Ren shrugged.

▾▾▾

You never liked visiting your father’s office. You couldn’t explain why it bothered you so much, but it did. Maybe it had something to do with him doing his evil business from inside, or maybe whether he summoned you inside, he had bad news for you. Today was not an exception.

John was standing by your father’s desk, hands behind his back, his face wore a smug expression which caused your unease to grow only more. There was definitely some bad news for you.

Without fully realizing it, you glanced over your shoulder just to confirm that Ren was following you, his presence bringing a very needed comfort while facing your father. You fully ignored John and instead approached your father’s desk, trying not to show your annoyance (which would bring you even more problems). “You asked for me?”

“I did.” Your father confirmed without raising his head from the documents he was reading. “We’re attending a charity party tonight. I had your dress delivered to your room.”

The urge to complain was burning through you. Those parties had always been the bane of your existence; boring, filled with arrogant people; some were politician, some were just filthy rich, but some, like your father, were criminals who had no problem to blend in.

“I expect you to be on your best behavior.” Your father finally raised his head to look at you, his brows furrowed. He thought that he had you finally under control, especially after the little incident from last year, but something told him he should be careful. Especially tonight, when so much was on stake.

“Why?” You dared to ask. There had to be a reason he insisted on you being a good girl, one that would probably displease you, but you still wanted to hear it.

Your father approached you without a word but his eyes spoke louder than any word could. He didn’t hesitate, not even for a second – he slapped you. “Listen well, Y/N. Tonight, I’m going to introduce you to a very powerful man who’s also my new business partner. You will present yourself as the perfect daughter that you are. A pretty, polite, lady. If you don’t-“ He paused, choosing carefully his next words, “Let’s say that what happened last year would seem like a nice dream.”

▾▾▾

“What an asshole!” You screamed the moment you got back inside your room, Ren following you like your shadow. He didn’t need to be so close to you when you were stuck in your room, in fact, he had no business at all following you inside your room, but he was worried.

“I can’t believe he wants to parade me like a damn trophy.” You continued mumbling to yourself, fuming with rage.

Of course, it wouldn’t be the first time he would bring you to one of those parties just to show his beautiful little girl, but you could tell tonight would be different. You didn’t know in what way, but it couldn’t be anything good. Not when he threatened you so nicely. Not when out of all the threats he could have chosen, he chose to remind you of the consequences of your last attempt at escaping.

You grabbed a vase from the cupboard and threw it across the room.

“Y/N.” Ren grabbed your hands, stopping you in your fit of rage. “Look at me.”

You refused, shaking your head. The need to lash out, to scream was just so strong, you could barely hold back. Even Ren’s presence was making you angry, his attempt at calming you made things so much worse. You tried to get rid of his grip, to put space between the two of you but it was of no use. Ren was much stronger; he didn’t even budge which only fueled your rage.

“Let me go. Right now.” You ordered; your voice filled with poison. A wrong word from him and he would feel the power of your rage.

But Ren being Ren kept his calm. He had been around you long enough to know, to understand how you worked. He saw what you could become when trapped. “Y/N.” He let go of your hands, only to cup your face and force you to look at him.

It was really unfair how big, how bright, how gentle, his eyes were. There was no resent, no anger in his eyes, no will to tell you what to do, only genuine worry and wish to help you. “Breath.”

Easy thing to say when your whole body was boiling with rage.

“Come on, pretty. Do it for me, please.”

You closed your eyes and concentrated on his voice, on this touch, his scent to ground you. His deep yet incredibly sweet voice.

“Yes, just like that.” He praised you while he stroked your cheek with his thumb, trying to help you to calm down. “You’re doing so well, pretty.”

Slowly, his gentle strokes along with his praises helped you to breath properly, your heartbeat slowed down, your blood no longer boiling. Resentment was the only thing left inside you and sadly, there was nothing to get rid of it.

“It’s red.” Ren commented, his thumb brushing lightly against the red mark on your face.

It didn’t hurt that much anymore. In fact, you forgot all about it because of your anger. “Nothing makeup can’t hide.”

“I still hate it.”

Of course, he did.

You were truly amazed how things had changed between you two in just two years. The first time your father had introduced you to the freckled man, you hated his guts instantly, no matter how pretty he looked with his long blond hair, pretty nose and pretty freckles.

It wasn’t like he had done anything for you to hate him, but he was your father’s man and someone he trusted enough to deal with you. And you had been right to be wary of him. After all, he was the one who found you and brought you back after your last attempt at escaping. He was the one who, because you refused to come back, killed your friend without blinking an eye. You loathed him for that.

Now, you could wonder why you managed to get past that. You didn’t really know yourself. Maybe because he was forced to be your shadow. Maybe because whenever you got beaten up, he was the one taking care of your wounds and comforting you. Maybe because despite his loyalty to your father, he still showed you compassion and would even help you to go out more often than you were allowed. to

“Penny for your thoughts?” Ren asked

You watched him closely; his pretty lips that were too inviting for your liking. His pretty, shining eyes. His curls. Everything about Ren was pretty and tempting. For a moment, you forgot all about your rage and instead felt rather playful. Why the hell not. “Want to help me to get dressed?”

Ren rolled his eyes in response and gently pushed you from him. “Don’t start.” It wasn’t a first time he was warning you. But did you listen? Not really.

You laughed instead. “Too bad for you!”

You pulled your shirt over your head, unbothered with his presence. In fact, you made sure to stand close enough to him, just to see if he still had it in him to resist. You had to give it to him; Ren had a strong self-control, but for how long? It wasn’t the first time you undressed with him in the room; you loved seeing him clench his fists, frowning as you were testing his patience.

“Y/N.” Ren called for you, his voice getting incredibly deep and dangerous, sending shivers down your spine. “You can’t keep doing that.” But did it stop him from admiring you? Did it stop him from looking at your fully exposed, pretty breasts? Absolutely not. Unknowingly to him, he licked his lips.

“Says who?” You challenged him, your hands slowly reaching for the buttons of your shorts.

It was apparently the wrong thing to say and to do. In a matter of seconds, he had you pinned against the wall, one hand wrapped around your throat while the other was holding your wrists above your head. His body was pressed against yours, warm and firm. A knee right between your thighs – you had to bite back a moan.

If he was trying to look intimidating, he was doing a poor job. Did he expect you to cower before him just because you were pinned against a wall? What a joke. His proximity set your whole body on fire. You didn’t care at all about getting dressed, you wanted him to touch you, to feel those lovely lips on your skin.

“Stop doing that.” He growled. A growl that vibrated through you.

“Do what?” You tried to look innocent, pretending not to know what you were doing.

Ren clicked his tongue in annoyance and moved his face closer, patience running thin. “I’m still a man remember?” His lips mere inches from yours, so easily to reach for, so tempting.

“Are you?” You dared him, wishing nothing more than for him to lose his self-control and have some fun.

It was a bad idea. A very bad idea. You knew, he knew. And nobody gave a damn.

“Fuck.” Ren cursed, his lips crashing against yours. He completely let go of your hands, letting you wrap your arms around his neck, letting you press yourself harder against him as you kissed him back with just as much intensity, with just as much need and despair.

Ren didn’t hesitate. He lifted you from the floor. You wrapped your legs around his middle, your mouth devouring his. Gone was the sweet-looking man, replaced with a hungry beast who wanted nothing more than devour you whole. And he did.

▾▾▾

Just like you had expected it, the party was not your cup of tea. Fortunately for you, whatever your father had planned for you, he didn’t expect it to happen right from the beginning which left you some very deserved freedom. Ren had followed you to the party, like expected from him, but instead of staying by your side like he would usually do, he chose to watch you from afar, looking dashing in his suit with his hair pushed back. He stared back at you, his face blank, making it impossible to guess what he was thinking about.

You licked your lips as memories of him between your legs, feasting on you, mere hours ago, played in your mind.

“I must say,” Soojin started saying, her eyes also on Ren, “This man is hot.”

You looked at your friend with a smile. You had met Soojin at one of those parties. She was bored, you were bored and just like that you had bonded. It wasn’t that hard considering how bold Soojin was. She was a free spirit, a beautiful young woman, an excellent actress who had your father fooled. Or maybe she was just that charming. Your father accepted your friendship and even let you meet her outside of those boring parties. You admired her for this miracle.

“I know.” You hid your smile in your drink.

“You’re hot too by the way.”

You knew you were. Despite your hatred for your father, you couldn’t deny that he had great taste when it came to clothes. Especially those you had to wear. He had chosen a long, sleeveless, bright red dress that hugged all your curves perfectly. “When am I not?”

“True!” She laughed heartily. “But there must be a special occasion or?”

See, in addition to being extremely beautiful and charming, she was also incredibly perceptive and clever. “Apparently, I’m about to meet his new business partner. I’m not looking forward.”

Soojin nodded her head in understanding. “Probably another rich, arrogant, old man.”

‘Just like my father.’ You wanted to add but refrained. Your face however said it all.

Soojin patted your arm. There wasn’t much she could do to help you except being herself and try to distract you from bad thoughts. But even that wouldn’t last.

Soojin noticed your father walking towards you with a frown. “Get ready, the monster is approaching.”

To avoid an open argument, you chose to join your father before he could reach the two of you. You gave Soojin a reassuring smile before looking back at your father. It was time to play pretend. With him and the others.

“Remember what I told you.” He said the moment you joined his side, linking your arm with his.

How could you forget. You put on your prettiest smile and walked with him. Two men were waiting for you in the middle of the room. One around your father’s age, looking dangerous and just evil with the way he was looking at people. The younger man, however, looked simply out of place.

“Rick!” The older man called for your father; a big smile plastered on his face.

Your father walked faster to reach the man, clearly excited. You, on the other hand, was dreading this encounter.

“Hope you’re enjoying the party.” Your father shook his hand with the man, before turning to you. “Kang, this is my daughter, Y/N.”

Kang eyed you from head to toe, eyes lingering longer than acceptable on your chest. You fought the urge to roll your eyes, instead, you outstretched your hand for him to shake. “Pleasure to meet you.” Except it wasn’t a pleasure at all.

“I must say, you are a very lucky man. Your daughter is really beautiful.” Kang commented, satisfied with your presence. Then, he pointed at the younger man beside him. “This is Matt, my son.”

Matt nodded his head to acknowledge your presence but surprisingly that was it. You quirked your brow, curious about the turn of event. You thought he would be like his father, watching you like a prize to win, but instead he barely looked at you, his interest completely somewhere else. Curious, you followed his eyes, only to find him looking at Ren. And you recognized that look. Matt was interested in your bodyguard.

‘Oh boy.’

You took advantage of the fact that your father was too busy discussing about business with Kang, to get closer to Matt. You put your hand on his arm and enjoyed how tensed this simple touch got him. He was not enjoying it while you definitely were.

“He’s pretty, isn’t he?” You whispered to Matt, startling him in the process.

“Wha-what?” He quickly cleared his throat, just in case his father would look his way. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Can’t blame you. Ren is pretty.” You completely ignored his attempt at hiding his preferences. You leaned even closer. From outside it looked like the two of you were really getting along, when in reality, you were simply making things clear with him. “But he’s mine.”

He was not. But Matt didn’t need to know that.

“I think, Y/N will make a fine wife.” Kang’s comment brought your attention back on them.

You cringed at his words from inside. Of course, he would make a comment like that, it was expected but still, it disgusted you to no end. It was one thing dealing with your father and his view of the world, or his opinion about women but it was a whole different story dealing with his acolytes.

Your father laughed at his comment. “I’m looking for a good husband. It’s time for her to settle down.”

His words left you speechless. Since when had he been thinking about marriage? Worse yet, why was Kang looking at you like a potential bride? Then it dawned on you that the reason your father wanted so badly to introduce you to Kang wasn’t only to show his pretty daughter. No. He wanted to sell you off.

No. You couldn’t let that happen. Never.

With shaky hands, you looked at Kang and then at your father who with just one glance understood that you were about to go against his orders.

“If you’ll excuse me.” You turned your back on them and walked away as fast as you could, back to the safety of Soojin’s company.

There would be consequences for your disobedience, but right now you couldn’t care less.

“Bad luck?” Soojin handed you a shot of vodka, surprised they would even have it at the party – you emptied it in one go. “That bad huh.”

“Bunch of assholes.” You wanted to punch someone, to relieve your anger, sadly, Ren couldn’t save you from yourself this time, instead, you grabbed another shot and another.

“Are you going to be ok?” Soojin worried, realizing that your behavior would mean trouble for you.

You looked at her, pondering whether you should tell her the truth or not. Scratch that, it was Soojin, of course you could tell her. “I guess I deserve a slap at best.” Soojin winced. “Don’t worry.”

“Hard not to.”

You sighed in defeat and grabbed another shot. “Soojin.” You stared at your shot, your anger completely vanished, only to be replaced with sadness. “I need to find a way to escape and make sure he never finds me.”

“What are you planning to do?”

You wished you knew. You brought your shot to your lips – a shot you never get to finish as you found yourself staring at an unfamiliar face across the room. An extremely handsome face. Black hair, sharp jaw, strong nose, plump lips, pretty, dark eyes. He wore black trousers, black shirt with three undone buttons, rolled sleeves that revealed strong, veiny forearms (which happened to be one of your many weaknesses).

‘Well shit.’ Maybe your night wasn’t a waste of time after all. You stared at him, shamelessly, not minding for a second that he could catch you, in fact, you wanted him to look at you. Why not make this night a little bit more exciting?

It didn’t take him long to notice you and you had to admit that his piercing eyes sent shivers down your spine in both excitement and fear of what could come out of it. He stared at you with just as much intensity, interest and a hint of amusement. He brought his glass to his lips to hide the beginning of a really pretty smile.

“Who’s that?” You asked Soojin because despite hating those parties, she understood this world the best and she knew all the people in this room.

Soojin followed your gaze and paled at the sight of the man. “Oh hell no. Forget about it right now, Y/N.” She spoke quickly, clearly panicking at your sudden interest in the man. She knew, you were reckless, daring, always scheming which always got you in trouble and this time wouldn’t be different if she didn’t try to stop you. “He’s someone you don’t want to mess with. I heard that-“

Too late, you were already walking over.

▾▾▾

He watched your every move, your every step - it made you smile; you had his full attention. You could have walked straight to him and start a conversation but where would the fun be? You stopped by the table near him and his friend, pretending to look for the food and not for them, not for him. You could feel his eyes on you but it didn’t stop him from talking to his friend either.

“Damn, this looks yummy.” His friend commented while eying the food on the table, drooling on the spot.

“I wouldn’t eat that if I were you.” You commented with a chuckle. You pointed at the food that indeed looked good. “Saw few people leaving and throwing their guts up after eating from this table.”

The man jumped, startled, from the table as if it had burned him. His shocked face was quite endearing, you had to admit. But of course, your attention was all on the mysterious man - he smirked, noticing how you couldn’t stop yourself from watching him.

“You should thank your savior, Jisung.”

And he did, without hesitation. Jisung took a step towards you and gently grabbed your hand. “Thank you, my lady.” And with that he planted a soft kiss on your knuckles.

“Y/N is fine.” You laughed at his behavior. You didn’t expect to be called a lady and even less have your hands kissed (on second thought, you were glad it was from someone as lovely as Jisung and not as disgusting as Kang); he didn’t look like an old fashion man. Never judge a book by its cover, you should know that better than anyone.

“Y/N. Lovely. I’m Jisung and the broody friend is Chris.” Feeling bold, he leaned closer to you. “He looks scary but he’s actually a teddy bear.”

Chris sighed at the description. He could always count on his friends to make fun of him in any possible situation and destroy his reputation and probably ruin his chances with any hot woman. He did his best looking menacing, making sure that boring, greedy people just wouldn’t strike up a conversation with him.

“Ok, that’s enough.” He grabbed his friend’s arm and pulled him away from you in case he would try to get even more touchy and daring. “Please ignore him.”

You waved your hand. “I think he’s cute.”

Chris snorted at that. “As cute as he can get.” He outstretched his hand for you to shake. “Pleasure to meet you, Y/N.”

Oh boy, you liked the sound of your name coming out of his mouth. Without hesitation, you shook his hand, smiling widely.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.” Chris commented, still holding your hand. You could have pulled away any time, but it felt too nice for you to let go. “I would have remembered.”

You would have remembered him too. How could you not when he was looking so damn good? And more importantly, he felt different from the other people present in the room. You didn’t doubt he was part of this world, but he didn’t have this arrogant, rich aura around him.

“I hate attending these stupid parties.” You admitted and he finally let go of your hand. You almost whined at the loss. Almost.

“Ha!” Jisung scoffed loudly and nudged his friend. “He too hates these parties. I come for the food.”

Soojin would have loved this guy. Your smile softened at his remark. “I-“

“There you are, Y/N.” You got interrupted by Ren. He had his hand on your back, ready to pull you away from the two men. Whenever you were happy about it or not.

Was it just an impression or the temperature in the room dropped by few degrees? Ren looked incredibly pissed; a vein popped out in his neck as he looked straight at Chris. If looks could kill both Chris and Jisung would be dead.

“You always have a bad timing.” Jisung commented, still smiling, but he didn’t sound that excited anymore.

You didn’t know what to think. They obviously knew each other which meant either Ren had worked for them at one point in his life or they had been enemies for a while. Did it mean they were your father’s enemy? You wondered.

You grabbed Ren’s arm, making sure that he wouldn’t do something stupid. He was always calm, composed, but right now he seemed ready to throw punches and you really didn’t want that.

“You chose the wrong side, Ren.” Chris finally said but his eyes moved to you, understanding dawned on him.

Ren rolled his eyes at his words. “Did I give you the impression that I care about your opinion?”

Before the situation could get out of hands you moved and stood right between Ren and Chris. You glanced at Chris, feeling sorry that you didn’t get a chance to spend more time with him and see where it could lead, before averting your eyes to Ren. “That’s enough. Let’s go?”

▾▾▾

The moment you got back home, you completely ignored Ren, not even sparing him a glance, still upset with how the night had unfolded. He let you leave without a word, knowing there was no point in talking, no point in fighting. He had done his job.

You sat on the floor by the window, watching the stars in silence. Except in your head, it was far from silent, thoughts running wild. You couldn’t stop thinking about Chris, about his interaction with Ren, his realization about who was your father.

“Where’s this wench?!” You heard your father yelling through the house – you winced and wrapped your arms around yourself, to give you strength or maybe in hope to protect yourself.

Just from his yelling alone, you knew he was furious. Best behavior? You forgot all about it and he was ready to make you pay for it. You wished there was something you could do to prevent him from coming to your room, but even if you tried, it would only make things worse for you.

“Dammit.” You cursed

“She’s sleeping.” You heard Ren’s voice right behind your door.

“Move.” Your father ordered but Ren did none of that. “Are you defying me right now?”

“Of course not, Boss.” But he was, you thought to yourself. He was trying to stop your father from getting his hands on you which made your heart ache. You made his life difficult and he still tried to defend you in his own twisted, sometimes, way. “But I think she had her share of emotions for the night.”

You didn’t think Ren could convince your father to spare you, but his words clearly caught his attention as you heard him ask, “What do you mean?”

“Christopher was at the party. She met him.” There was a dead silence, following Ren’s words. You couldn’t, obviously, see your father’s reaction, but whatever it was, Chris’s name made him pause.

“What did he say to her?” Your father finally asked, much calmer now, and yet, you swore there was something in his voice. Could it be panic? It couldn’t be.

“I’m not sure.” Ren admitted, “I don’t think she spent much time in his presence.”

“Good. I don’t need this bastard getting any closer to her.”

You heard him loud and clear. If your father hated Chris so much, then it was your chance to start planning. Maybe Chris was just as bad as your father, maybe he wasn’t, but you knew you needed a way out.

You grabbed your phone and texted Soojin, the only person you could really count on and someone who was really good at looking into someone’s life.

You stared at your phone and thought for a moment. Soojin had a point, even if it pained you to admit it. Even if you managed to get out and reach Chris, you had nothing to give him in exchange for his help. There was nothing you could give him to help him to get rid of your father.

But you soon realized that it wasn’t entirely true. It was still night and you were at your father’s place which meant you could sneak around and try to find valuable information. Was it risky? Hell yes. Did you have a choice? Not really.

With this goal on mind, you left the safety of your room and prayed to whoever wished to listen that you would not get caught.

▾▾▾

Your father’s office was too big for your liking. There were so many places to look through and not enough time. It was the middle of the night, but you couldn’t be hundred percent sure your father wouldn’t come to his office. He was after all a workaholic which meant you had to be quick.

You looked through his papers, trying to find information about his business and especially his illegal activities but there were none which didn’t make sense. Was your father that careful? That paranoid? Or was he just so good at hiding his dirty secrets?

There must be something. You refused to give up so easily. You looked through his drawers but still nothing. It was slowly driving you crazy. But then, when you thought all hope was lost, a frame caught your eyes. It was a picture of your mom and a very young you. You didn’t take your father for a sentimental, not after what he had done to your mom. The official story was she had filed for divorce and left. But you knew better.

You grabbed the frame and stilled for a moment. Your heart ached at the sight of your mom. Ever since her disappearance, you avoided looking at the pictures. Too scared of your feelings, of the pain that would follow. You missed her, so much. Living with both your father and your mom was hard, but mom’s presence had always made things bearable. Whenever your father got violent, she was always there to mend your wounds. She did her best with what she had and you always loved her for that.

“I miss you, mom.” You whispered, fingers trailing over the picture.

Just when you were about to put it back to its place, you felt something brushing your fingers on the back of the frame. “What-“ You turned it around only to find an usb-stick taped on the frame.

“I thought I heard you sneak out.” Ren’s voice startled you, giving you a heart attack.

“Bloody hell, Ren!!” You muffled your yell. “What are you doing here?”

Ren quirked a brow at you. “Shouldn’t I be the one asking this question? Are you out of your mind?”

You quickly hid the frame behind your back, hoping he wouldn’t notice. He did but chose not to comment. Instead, he stayed by the door, fists clenched.

The tension was thick between the two of you. You, still upset about his behavior earlier at the party. Him, upset with you sneaking around and looking for more trouble. He managed, by some miracle, to stop your father from punishing you, but should you be caught tonight, there was nothing he would be able to do to protect you. And it pained him, more than you could know.

“Whatever you’re planning. Don’t.”

Of course, he would say something like that. You kept your lips sealed in fear of revealing too much and risking your plan.

“You know there’s nothing you can do.”

But you could, he just hadn’t realized it yet.

“Y/N,” Ren took a step toward you but stilled. He shook his head and held back. “He will ask me to bring you back.” And here you had thought, he didn’t know about your plan. “And you know I will come for you. I always will.”

If only he could disregard his loyalty to your father, his words would have been so much more meaningful. Still, your treacherous heart fluttered at his voice.

“I really don’t want to hurt you.” He admitted, “Not again.”

With that, Ren left.

▾▾▾

Escaping your house was never the hardest part in your different plans. Sometimes, because it amused your father, sometimes because he didn’t care until he needed you. Today was no exception. You walked out of the house without trouble. No Ren on sight which did worry you for a moment but in the end, it was for the better. You couldn’t imagine yourself dealing with him right now, because he would know what you were up to.

Soojin didn’t disappoint you. Two days, it was the time it took her to gather all the information she could on Chris. About his business, about his life - it was impressive. He was a very powerful man without big scandals which, in your opinion, was remarkable. Soojin tried to dig as much as she could, wanting to find dirt on him and prove to you that getting involved with him was a very bad idea. She found nothing. Either the stories about him were just some baseless rumors or he was really good at concealing the truth. Honestly? You didn’t care. He was your only hope and you were willing to make a deal with the devil if it meant freedom.

That was how you found yourself walking straight to his company’s headquarters. You weren’t invited, had no meetings planned but you were a confident, strong woman who knew how to behave to get what you wanted.

For the past twenty-four hours, you went through different scenarios, wanting to be as ready as you could be once facing the different obstacles. However, once you got to the reception, you were met with a sight you had not counted on at all. Jisung was leaning against the counter, chatting happily with a pretty brunette, clearly flirting. The sight of the man brought a small smile on your face. Maybe you had all the chances to get what you wanted.

“Hey Jisung!” You called after him, walking slowly towards him.

“Y/N!” He almost squealed at the sight of you.

After spending so much time with fake people, you could tell when someone was pretending, Jisung, however, seemed genuinely happy seeing you.

He surprised you once more by hugging you tightly as if you had been friends for years. You wouldn’t have minded. “What are you doing here?”

“To see Chris.”

If he was surprised, he didn’t show it. Jisung looked over his shoulder, at the brunette and smiled. “I’ll take her to see the boss.”

“But-“ She was ready to protest. You couldn’t tell whether Jisung worked here or if they were just used to see him because he was Chris’s friend but clearly, he was going against the rules.

“It’s okay, don’t worry!” He reassured her by being a sunshine. He was really charming.

He showed you the way to the lift. Only when the doors were fully closed, he looked back at you. “He’s not expecting you, is he?”

“Of course not.” You smirked proudly

Jisung laughed loudly, clapping his hands in delight. “Oh you’re such a naughty little thing. I like you.”

▾▾▾

“Okay, so we might need to wait a little. I think he’s not done with the meeting.” Jisung said as he pointed at a huge wooden door that apparently led to Chris’s office.

The reasonable thing to do would be to listen to Jisung and wait patiently for your turn. But were you a patient woman? Sometimes, yes. Most of the time, no. And right now, you just couldn’t wait. You wanted to see the man and hopefully make a deal with him.

You glanced at Jisung, feeling almost sorry for him - he would get in trouble for bringing you here, you guessed. “Sorry, Jisung.”

“Sorry? For wha-“ He couldn’t finish his sentence as he saw you walking to the door. He realized too late what were your intentions. He palmed his face in despair, he was about to get his ass whooped, for sure.

You barged inside the office while your confidence hadn’t worn off. You eyed the room, noticing that there were at least ten people in the room, looking all positively shocked with your rude (according to them, you bet) interruption. You quickly disregarded their confused-angry-appalled look and averted your eyes to the man you were dying to see. He looked just as handsome as in your memory, if not better, wearing a suit. His aura was still as impressive, screaming power and strength.

A tiny part of you squirmed under his glare, but just a tiny part.

If Chris was surprised seeing you, he didn’t show it. He glanced over your shoulder, giving a stern glance at the poor Jisung (you really felt bad for involving him) before his eyes were back on you.

You stared at each other for a moment, ignoring the world surrounding you. You weren’t particularly fond of the attention but right now it seemed like a little to price to pay to have Chris’s eyes on you.

“Leave us.” Chris ordered, dismissing his people without even sparing a glance.

They all hurried to get out of the room as if sensing things could get out of control real quick. Was it because of your presence? Or was it also because of Jisung? You wondered.

“I tried to stop her!” You heard Jisung saying behind you, whining.

“I’ll deal with you later.” Chris replied with a roll of his eyes. “Leave us and don’t eavesdrop.”

Jisung muttered under his nose but did as he was told.

“He really tried.” You tried to defend him.

Chris, to your surprise, chuckled. “No, he didn’t.”

‘Thank god, he’s not angry.’ You told yourself, a tad relieved.

“Don’t get me wrong, Y/N, it’s a pleasure seeing you again so soon. But, what are you doing here?”

“Interrupting your meeting?” You played coy.

Chris ignored your attempt, seeing right through you. “Does your father know you’re here?”

You checked the time on your watch. “Well, by now, he might know I escaped. Again.”

Chris looked both impressed and pleased with your answer. Obviously, he knew nothing about you except for the fact that you were his enemy’s daughter.

“Why would you escape? He’s your family.” He asked, genuinely curious.

You scoffed. How could he say that? Didn’t he know what kind of man your father was? No, he was testing you.

“Please. You don’t strike me as a fool. I’m sure you know what kind of man, my father is. You know his worth.”

Chris stayed quiet for a moment, observing you. It was nerve wrecking. “Why are you here, Y/N?”

He tapped his fingers on the table, waiting for you to explain yourself.

It was now or never, you knew it, he knew it and yet no words left your mouth. It wasn’t like you to lose your composure but maybe your nerves were finally at their limits or maybe you were losing your shit because of importance of what you had to ask of him.

You dismissed your thoughts and your fear, you could do it. You walked towards him, hoping you looked confident and convincing enough. You sat on the edge of his desk and crossed your legs, getting comfortable.

Slowly, Chris’s gaze lowered to your exposed legs. Really, how could he resist when it was so nicely presented to him. After all, he was just a man. A powerful man, but still a man. You weren’t trying to seduce him, not yet, but if it helped your case then, why the hell not.

“I need your help.” You admitted. “I don’t know what’s kind of relationship you have with my father, but I believe you’re the only one who can help me to get free.”

Chris, from the moment you walked inside his office, guessed your visit had something to do with your father. In fact, he was convinced he was the one sending you as an offering, it would definitely be his style. A nice offering, he would admit; you were a pretty woman, with bright eyes, pretty plump lips and amazing curves that did not go unnoticed by Chris.

But this? This, he did not see it coming.

Chris stood up, towering over you easily. He put his hands on each side of your body, trapping you as he leaned closer. His proximity was overwhelming but you refused to budge. You let him study your face, looking for any signs of lies. He found none.

“You’re really serious about this.” It wasn’t a question but you nodded either way.

He let go of you and took a step back. “Let’s say I agree to help you. What makes you think you’ll be free? Do you expect me to help you out of good will?” He raked his fingers through his hair. “I’m not a good man, Y/N.”

“Maybe you aren’t, but are you worse than my father?” You asked, genuinely curious. He could of course lie to you, but you had the impression that he was rather trying to paint a bad image of himself in order to make you fear him.

“Depends on whom you ask.”

You jumped from the desk and got closer to him. As you watched him, you came to realization that there was no way he could be worse than your father, just because he was trying to look like a villain.

“Let me ask you this, then.” You grabbed his hand and you had to resist the urge to look at it because hell it felt nice. Chris’s frown, on the other hand, deepened as he looked at your hand. “Let’s pretend for a second that I’m your girl and because I’m a brat, I decide to disobey you. Would you lock me up?”

“What?” His eyes snapped back to your face, clearly taken aback.

“You heard me.”

Chris should have been surprised with your words but sadly, he wasn’t. Your questions showed only what you went through and he expected nothing less from a man like your father. An insect who believed he could rule the world and treat people like shit.

“No, I wouldn’t.”

You let go of his hand took few steps back. “See, you’re already better than him.

Chris closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “Give me time to think this over.”

You wished you could. You let go of his arm and smiled sadly. “Sadly, time is the only thing I don’t have.”

▾▾▾

Instead of sending you home, Chris asked Jisung to take you for a coffee. It gave you hope, maybe he wasn’t about to refuse to help you after all. You accepted without much protest and Jisung was too happy to oblige.

“Sorry for putting you into a bad position.” You apologized as Jisung put the cup of coffee before you.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure Chris was happy with the interruption. He’s not fond of those meetings.” Jisung was way too nice which made you think that angering this man wouldn’t be easy. Not like you were planning to. “By the way, why are you here?”

You could have come up with a lie, easily, but something about Jisung made you trust him instantly. Maybe because he was so likable or maybe because Chris trusted him. Probably both. “I need his help to escape from my father.”

Jisung chocked on his coffee, coughing strongly, hitting his chest to recover. Someone was not expecting this kind of answer from you.

“I knew there was a reason I liked you right away.” Jisung laughed, clapping his hands.

“I know, I’m charming like that.” You flipped your hair playfully. “I just hope he’ll accept.”

Jisung hummed, pondering on the question. He knew his friend well enough to guess that Chris would avoid useless conflicts if he could, however this time he wasn’t so sure. Chris wasn’t fond of your father, far from it even, there was a high possibility that he wouldn’t mind messing with him. Jisung would gladly help too.

“I don’t think he’ll say no. You’re offering him an opportunity to mess with your father. I bet he’s tempted.”

Whether Jisung was sincere or not, his words gave you hope. But not for long. Your attention went from Jisung to the man walking through the doors. You tensed, gasping in surprise. You thought you had more time before your father or his men would realize that you hadn’t left for shopping or for a walk. Worse yet, you expected to see Ren. But no, John was the one who walked through the door, his eyes finding you right away.

Your change of mood didn’t go unnoticed. “What’s wrong?”

He had his answer before you could even think about it. Without invitation, without even caring about checking his surroundings because he was just that arrogant and confident, John sat at your table, looking relaxed and unbothered, clearly Jisung’s presence meant nothing to him. Or maybe he didn’t look enough to recognize a threat when faced with one. His mistake.

“You’re getting sloppy, Y/N.” John commented, taping his fingers on the table. “You know why I’m here.”

To say that you were a tad worried would be an understatement. You had to think quickly, to find a way out without getting hurt and without bringing even more trouble to Jisung.

“Yeah.” You sighed, annoyed with the turn of the event. “And you know I won’t come with you.”

“And you know I’ll make you. You can either make it easy for both of us or-“

Jisung, bless the man, chuckled at the interaction. Apparently, John wasn’t the only unbothered one in the room. “And I think, you completely forgot where you are.”

Jisung’s whole demeanor changed from cheerful to dead cold - you shivered in response. What a whiplash. Here you thought he was a sweet and odd person by Chris’s side. You should have known better. He wasn’t just a friend. No, he was much more and you should have noticed it sooner.

John seemed to finally notice the man sitting beside him and for the first time you saw a glimpse of fear and recognition in his eyes.

‘Who’s getting sloppy huh.’ You thought, repressing a chuckle.

“You-“ John stuttered, recognizing the man by his side. He slid his hand in his jacket, trying to reach for his gun.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Because Jisung was much faster. He was half turned and was pointing his gun under the table.

John hesitated, eyes darting back and forth between you and Jisung. You had to admit that you were feeling particularly confident just because of the way Jisung behaved - seeing John squirming under his gaze was worth the risk.

“I would advise, you go back to your boss without causing any more trouble.”

“She has to come back with me.” John groaned. Obviously, he didn’t want to cause ruckus in the middle of a cafe and deal with Jisung, but coming back without you would make his life much more difficult.

“Nope.” Jisung pointed at you, “The pretty girl stays with me.”

What a flirt.

You blew him a kiss.

▾▾▾

It was extremely satisfying to watch John leave empty handed. You felt more relaxed and confident - you had made the right choice to come to Chris. Now, all you needed was for him to accept the deal.

Jisung brought you back to Chris’s office once sure John wouldn’t follow you and attempt anything reckless.

He didn’t.

“You’re out of your mind! Please stop thinking with your dick and think with your brain!” A loud and angry voice echoed from the half-opened door of Chris’s office.

Jisung stopped you right away by gently grabbing your arm and pulling you against his chest. He sighed, clearly recognizing the voice.

“You always have stupid ideas. She’s a brat. Worse yet, she’s his daughter! Why the hell would you bother with her?”

Jisung shook his head in disapproval before looking apologetically at you. “Sorry.”

You raised your hand to stop him from apologizing. He hadn’t done anything wrong and whoever was behind those words obviously knew nothing about you.

You winked playfully before storming inside like you owned the place, wanting to face the two men. Chris only quirked a brow at your presence while the other man’s frown only deepened at the sight of you. If looks could kill you would be dead. But instead of being intimidated (you definitely were), you chose to play it cool - you smiled sweetly at them.

“Y/N, this is Minho, a friend.” Chris introduced the angry man.

Just to spite him some more, you waved your hand cheerfully. “Hi, Minho.” Of course, he didn’t return the greeting but you didn’t mind. His opinion meant nothing to you.

Chris shook his head at your behavior, half amused half desperate. “Leave us, guys.”

“It’s a bad idea.” Minho muttered, not bothering hiding his displeasure.

“Come on.” Jisung almost pounced at Minho, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “They have to talk; we have no business in there.”

Minho had little choice but to follow Jisung judging by how strong his grip around him was. On his way out, Jisung winked at you, encouraging you. Yet, before leaving, he looked over his shoulder, at Chris. “Just so you know, they tried to get her back.” And with that he left the two of you alone, making sure to close the door behind them.

You realized that Jisung’s presence was comforting. Now, that you were standing alone with Chris, you were scared. Not of him, obviously, but about his decision. “So. What’s your answer?”

Chris watched you like a hawk for a moment which, despite your effort, unnerved you. He took slow steps towards you, hands in his pockets, looking as nonchalant as possible, stopping mere inches from you. You couldn’t ignore the warmth radiating from his body, his scent invading your senses – it would be so easy to get lost in him.

“I’ll take you to my place for the timing being.” He finally said

His answer should have made you happy, but it didn’t. “Another cage?”

Chris shook his head. “What you’re asking of me isn’t that easy. I need you to stay discrete for a while. Once Rick understands that I’m not giving you back, he’ll do something stupid.”

Sadly, you couldn’t refute it. You didn’t know to what extent your father would go in order to get you back and you didn’t really want to imagine it either.

“Maybe he’ll ask his dog to bring you back.”

“John? Already tried and failed thanks to Jisung.”

Chris shook his head and laughed. “Oh no, I wasn’t talking about John. Ren.”

You felt a flash of irritation at his words. Ren was someone you deeply cared for, even if he was your father’s man. Even if he had made the wrong choices. “Don’t talk about him like that.” For a short second you forgot you were supposed to be nice, to stay on his good side, but the moment he insulted your friend, you lost it.

Chris was half surprised with your sudden hostility. From what he saw at the party, the two of you were close but he didn’t imagine to this extent. “Is he your lover? Really?”

“He’s my friend.”

“Oh Y/N. I doubt it. But fine. I apologize for my poor choice of words.”

Scared your voice would betray your annoyance, you simply nodded your head. You couldn’t really pick a fight with Chris, not when you needed his help. Which reminded you; he still didn’t mention the price for his help.

“Chris, what do you want in exchange for your help?”

“I’ll come up with something.” Was all he said.

It should have terrified you. What if in the end he would ask something impossible to give? What if it was something that could make your life worse? Did you have any choice? Not really.

▾▾▾

Chris’s place was huge, not like you expected anything less from this man. Everything inside was either black or white which gave a rather classy atmosphere to the place. And the view – you would die to have such a view. Huge bay windows that led to a giant balcony, giving a perfect view on the town.

“Wah!” You squealed at the view, unable to refrain yourself from running to the window to admire the sight. It was dark outside but the city’s lights gave an almost eerie atmosphere that captivated you.

“Here,” Chris approached you, “You can have my t-shirt to sleep in. I’ll get you clothes and everything you need tomorrow.”

You glanced over your shoulder and smiled. “Thank you.” You weren’t only thanking him for the clothes. No, you were thanking him for everything he was doing for you. Technically, you were a stranger to him, he had no obligations towards you and yet, there you were.

Slowly, you returned your attention to the town. You wrapped your arms around yourself, comforting yourself. You were free. You did it.

“You’re ok?” Chris worried. You might be his enemy’s daughter, but you were also a human with deep wounds – he saw them, even if you tried to hide behind your smiles and confidence.

“Yeah. Feels weird to be free.” You admitted and chuckled at your silliness. “Well, almost free.” You turned, this time, to fully face him. In this dim light he looked even more handsome which shouldn’t be allowed. “Why did you really agree on helping me?”

Chris took another step towards you, hesitated before touching your cheek. His soft touch took you off guard but it was also comforting - you leaned into his touch, welcoming it.

“Let’s say, I have a soft spot for damsels in distress.”

Living with Chris promised to be an interesting experience.

▾▾▾

The very next day, just like Chris had promised, he had, everything you needed, delivered to you. You supposed he would be the one bringing it to you but no, half awake, you were met with a very loud, cheerful and now familiar voice.

“Special delivery!” Jisung yelled through the whole place just to make sure you would hear him and be aware of his presence.

Impossible to miss.

When you joined Jisung in the main room, he surprised you with tons of bags on the floor waiting for you. You halted, eyeing all the bags suspiciously. “Are these all for me?”

“Yep.” Jisung confirmed, “I picked everything myself!”

“Should I worry?” He looked way too excited and smug about it. Something was fishy. Had to.

“Probably.” He didn’t even try to deny, smirking. He plopped on the couch, acting as if this place was actually his (and maybe in a way it was seeing how close he and Chris were). “Check it.”

As you approached the bag, you kept your eyes on Jisung. “You look too excited for my liking. What did you do?”

Jisung gasped, feigning being hurt as he put his hand over his chest. “How can you doubt me like that?”

“Call it a hunch.”

Despite his smug expression, the first two bags were rather innocent; dresses, jeans, all kind of clothes. Too many clothes in your opinion. Another bag was filled with skincare and different brands of makeup – you glanced at Jisung wondering how he guessed what you needed and what you liked but he only shrugged in response. Either he had done some serious research on you or he was just good like that.

The fourth bag was the one that made you pause, pull the item from it and then groan. Red, lacy lingerie. Definitely your style, definitely sexy, but absolutely unnecessary. “What the hell, Jisung?”

“What? It’s hot!” He pointed at the lingerie, excited. “This will look good on you!”

“Yeah, but why the hell would I need it?”

“To seduce.”

“Who? You?”

Jisung actually laughed at that. “Me? Consider me already seduced.”

You shook your head, chuckling at his joke but really, you wouldn’t mind wearing this piece of clothes for Chris. You slapped yourself mentally for the thought. There was definitely something wrong with you.

“Hey Ji, thank you.”

▾▾▾

Despite spending most of your life in a rich household, it didn’t prevent you from developing some useful skills such as cooking. For some it was a sign you were a good wife-to-be, for others it was a waste of time. For you? It was a hobby you truly enjoyed.

There wasn’t much you could do to thank Chris for everything he was doing for you, but cooking a nice meal for the two of you seemed like a good plan. A part of you did it to thank him, but it was also a way for you to distract yourself from annoying thoughts. And boredom.

Music in your ears, a glass of wine in your hand, you danced and sang while cooking, wearing one of Chris’s shirts. You could have changed into your new clothes, but really, his clothes were just much more comfortable.

You were moving to the rhythm of the music, swinging your hips, bobbing your head– you hadn’t felt this good in years. Completely in your own little world, you weren’t paying attention to your surroundings, you hadn’t noticed the moment Chris got back. Until it was too late.

The moment you turned around and saw him leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, looking amazing, smiling at you – you froze. You took your headphones off your head and smiled sheepishly at him. “Hi?”

“You know, I can get used to that.” Chris admitted, clear fondness in his voice.

Even if Chris had accepted to help you and brought you to live with him, he had absolutely no clue how the cohabitation would work. He didn’t know you. But the sight of you, so comfortable, so relaxed and so lively – he found it endearing. You were nothing like your father and far from a brat.

Instead of feeling embarrassed, you felt even more at ease. There was something with Chris that made you feel safe, comforted, in fact, it felt like you were long lost friends, despite being strangers.

Chris eyed your outfit for a moment, eyes lingering longer than necessary on your exposed legs. “I thought Jisung brought you clothes.” He pushed himself from the wall and walked slowly towards you. Despite the pretty smile still on his face, there was a predatory glimpse in his eyes that caused your heart to flutter. The traitor.

“He did.” You answered as you watched him getting closer to you.

He stopped right before you. There was nowhere for you to run, to hide; you were half trapped between the counter and a smiling Chris. “And?”

“Your shirt is more comfortable.” You joked, “Moreover, trust me, you don’t want me wearing the clothes he brought.” That was a half lie. Yes, Jisung had brought you tons of sexy outfits that were useless since you would be staying at Chris’s place most of the time, but there were also normal, casual clothes.

Chris arched a brow, clearly amused with your explanation and not that surprised either knowing his friend. “Why?”

Feeling particularly bold tonight, you smirked and pushed him gently off your way. “Wouldn’t want you to fall in love with me.”

Chris burst into laughter; his laugh was like music to your ears. Maybe you were the one in danger after all.

“Want a glass of wine?”

“With pleasure.”

▾▾▾

Chris surprised you once more by leaving one morning a phone for you with a note.

“I figured you might need it. Add whoever you need, but be careful.”

There wasn’t much in it except for his, Jisung and Minho’s number. Just in case. You perfectly understood why he saved Jisung’s number – in a matter of days, this man had become your favorite person. Minho’s number, on the other hand, was not needed. You could have deleted his number right away, but reasoned yourself; Chris had added his number for a reason, you couldn’t get rid of it like that.

You plopped on the couch, legs under your butt, you stared at your phone. You wanted so badly to add Soojin’s number, number that you had memorized long ago, and talk to her. You wanted her to know that you had escaped and that you were safe, but you couldn’t do it. Not that you didn’t trust your friend, no; your father knew about your relationship with her which put her in danger and risked your freedom.

Ren’s face crossed your mind. His number too, you knew by heart. A tiny part of you worried for him. Did his father get rid of him because he had failed? Did John blamed him for not being able to get you back? There was no way for you to know without exposing yourself.

With a long and tired sigh, you threw your head back. You closed your eyes for a moment and thought about what you should do. There wasn’t much you could do despite having Chris’s whole place for you, you were getting bored.

Since there was nothing to do and your thoughts were getting too much for you, you grabbed your phone and decided to text Chris.

You sighed again, disappointed with his response. You understood perfectly that he was a busy man and he didn’t have time to always entertain you, but you couldn’t stop yourself from hoping he would spend some time with you.

‘Oh well.’

▾▾▾

The next morning, you were woken up by noises coming from the kitchen. it took you a moment to realize, in surprise, that you were back in your bed while you remembered clearly falling asleep on the couch while watching a movie. You stared at your blanket; did Chris carry you to your bed? This simple thought brought a tiny smile to your face.

Eagerly, you jumped out of your bed and walked out of your room. You followed the delicious smell of pancakes – your stomach grumbled in response.

You had to admit that it was a rather odd sight: Chris in the kitchen. Seeing this big, powerful and dangerous (according to rumors) man preparing breakfast, was both amusing and charming. Chris had prepared everything; pancakes, coffee, juice, fruits – it was everything you liked and everything you needed.

“Morning.” As you watched him setting the table, you thought about his remark when he saw you cooking. You had to agree, you could get used to it too.

“Good morning. Hope you like pancakes.”

“Love it.” And even if you didn’t, you would have said the same thing because he did it for you. How could you complain?

“Did you steal another of my shirt?” Chris watched you, sipping his coffee in peace.

“Me? No!” That was obviously a lie, as if Chris wouldn’t recognize his own clothes, but you felt in rather playful mood. He arched a brow at your blatant lie. “Fine! I did. So what? Sue me!”

Chris put his cup back on the table and got closer to you. Your eyes locked, he played with the edge of the shirt that was barely hiding your body since you were sitting.

“Or I can just take it off.” He suggested

You opened your mouth ready for another snarky remark but nothing came out of your mouth. He let go of the shirt, only to put his hands on your thighs. His hands felt warm against your skin, nevertheless you shivered.

“You’re a tempting little thing.” Chris admitted

“Look who’s talking.” Your voice came out shaky, betraying your state of mind. You wanted to blame your needs but really it was all because of Chris.

You sincerely thought Chris would kiss you, in fact, you prayed he would. Sadly for you, he pulled back, shook his head as if to convince himself that it was a bad idea. It was probably a bad idea but you found yourself not caring much about it.

“I’ll see you tonight.”

▾▾▾

Despite your impressive (according to Chris) cooking skills, you were human which meant that from time to time you craved some junk food. Luckily for you, you had a new phone (bless Chris for that) which helped you to order some crispy chicken and fries.

You put everything on a plate and brought it to the couch where you had prepared your little nestle (which meant tons of pillows and a huge fluffy blanket that surprisingly you found in Chris’s room). You looked at your work proudly, satisfied with the outcome, before finally plopping on the couch.

For a moment, you scrolled through a very long selection of movies, trying to figure out what was your mood for the night. You glanced to the side, through the windows; it was already late and dark outside, rain pouring. You switched the light off, welcoming the darkness.

A good horror movie sounded perfect. You went for Conjuring 2; no matter how many times you had watched this movie, it still gave you the creeps and you loved it.

Completely immersed in the movie you didn’t notice Chris’s presence, not like it was the first time either. Except this time, the moment he switched the light on, you screamed, almost throwing the plate from your laps.

“Bloody hell!” You put your hand over your chest, your heart ready to jump out of it.

“Hi?” He said half sorry half trying to hold back his laugh.

“I think, I won’t survive living with you.”

“Don’t be so dramatic.”

You stuck your tongue in response. Yes, very adult of you.

Chris shook his head, smiling fondly at your antics. “Mind if I join you after a shower?”

“Sure. There’s some chicken left. Fries, not so much, sorry.”

“Chicken it is then.”

But by the time Chris came back you managed to prepare some additional dishes to satisfy his hunger. He came back wearing black sweat pants and a white t-shirt. His hair still completely wet, in fact some water was still dripping from his head to his neck, attracted your attention to the point you forgot all about the movie. Nobody should be allowed to look that good in sweatpants, but we were talking about Chris, he made everything look good on him.

You sighed to yourself and pulled the blanket closer to your face, wishing it could swallow you whole, wishing to hide the unbearable attraction. You didn’t know how long you could keep this up. The two of you kept flirting, there was no other way to describe your banter, your closeness.

Chris took his place beside you and the moment his eyes landed on the TV; he regretted his decision. He slowly turned his head to you, ready to give any valid or not excuse if it could save him from a horror movie.

“Why are you hiding?” He asked surprised that you would be hiding when you were the one to choose the movie. “Is it that scary?”

You lowered the blanket for a short moment, revealing only half of your face – you regretted it instantly. Nope, he still looked too good and you still wanted to grab his face and kiss him.

“I-No. I mean-“ You cursed yourself for sounding so unsure. You cleared your throat and removed the blanket from you. “It’s scary but no, I’m not hiding because of the movie.”

Chris tilted his head, curious. “No? Then why?”

There was no escape from the truth. You jumped from the couch and pointed an angry finger at him. “Because of you!” Still very adult of you. You cursed yourself for losing your composure whenever this man was around and so close to you.

“Me?”

“Yes you. You’re making things extremely difficult for me!” And hot, but you refrained from saying it.

Chris had to muffle his laugh but did a poor job at it which obviously made you only angrier.

“Are you laughing at me, right now?”

“Sorry.” He really couldn’t hold it as he burst into laughter.

You grabbed the closest pillow and hit him with it, once, twice, until Chris grabbed your arm and pulled you too hard – you fell right onto his laps. With a pretty smile on his face, he wrapped his arms tightly around you, not letting you any chance to escape from his grip. Not like you wanted anyway.

“I’m sorry, you’re just too cute.” He apologized, “As for me being a problem-“

You cut him right before he could finish his thought. “Are you trying to seduce me?”

“Wha-“ He stopped, cleared his throat and then looked more seriously (or not) at you. “Is it working?”

Just like that you completely relaxed in his arms and laughed. “Does it work? I’m that close to a mental breakdown because of you!”

▾▾▾

The day you asked Chris for help, you knew it wouldn’t be easy, not for him and not for you. Bringing down your father wouldn’t be that simple, no matter how powerful and resourceful Chris was. And yet, you hoped. But days turned into weeks and slowly you were losing your mind. Even when you lived with your father, you still could go out, meet with Soojin and have some fun, but living with Chris wasn’t all that thrilling.

Yes, you enjoyed the few moments you had together (you did more than enjoyed) but half of the time you were left alone in this huge flat and you were getting bored. Really bored. You needed fresh air, you needed to meet people. Even if it meant putting yourself in danger.

Against your better judgment, you decided enough was enough – you left the safety of Chris’s place.

There wasn’t a place you particularly wanted to visit, or something you wanted to do. No, just being outside, hearing the usually annoying noises of the city was enough to make you feel alive and free.

As you walked down the street, you let a sigh of pure satisfaction out. The weather was lovely; a vivid blue sky, a soft breeze, it was perfect. You could say it was one of those perfect days.

Your spirits brightened, nothing and nobody could stop you from enjoying your little trip in town, by yourself, with your father’s money. Obviously, you knew that spending his money would warn him about your whereabouts but it didn’t really matter considering he already knew you were involved with Chris. So, why not have some fun?

▾▾▾

You went from one store to another, buying yourself clothes you absolutely didn’t need, clothes that costed more than it should be allowed to. But did you care? Absolutely not. Was it worth it? Definitely.

Your moment of fun, however, was interrupted by a phone call you were waiting for. There was no way Chris would have left you alone at his place without thinking that one day or another you would be tired of waiting – he expected you to leave and he needed to make sure he could track you.

“Please tell me you’re not that dumb.” Came his voice, harsh and dark and filled with anger.

You bet anybody would cower in fear before him just at the sound of his voice. You? You were feeling a bit rebellious and daring. “Hello to you too, darling. I’m fine and you?”

“The fuck do you think you’re doing, Y/N?” Chris growled, unable to hold back.

“I’m doing some very deserved shopping, why?”

Chris chose not to answer to that, he was simmering with anger and a bit of worry (but he wouldn’t admit it out loud). “You’re not making it easy for me.”

“Do you want me to apologize for that?” You realized that to him, you probably sounded ungrateful and maybe like a brat.

“I want you to go back to my place.”

“I can’t. Not yet.”

“Y/N, please.”

“Listen, give me at least one more hour. I need it.” Compromising seemed like the best option. You weren’t ready to go back to his place yet and he clearly wouldn’t leave you alone.

“No. Get back.”

“No? Come on, Chris. Just one hour!”

Chris completely ignored your plea. “Where are you?”

Your irritation flared. How dare he be so unreasonable? Why couldn’t he understand your feelings? “None of your business.”

“Oh Y/N, you are my damn business. I agreed to help you and right now you’re making things extremely difficult.”

It appeared that both you and Chris had one (annoying) thing in common: you were both extremely stubborn. You didn’t know to what length he would go to get you back, but it also meant he didn’t know how unreasonable you could actually get.

“Tell me where you are, I’m sending Jisung.”

“Nope.” With that you hung up on him.

▾▾▾

If Chris would have accepted your terms, you would have complied. You would have gone back after one more hour outside. Instead, you found yourself walking some more, grabbing some snacks on your way before deciding that having an ice-coffee would be actually nice.

You waited for your order, watching as the pretty brunette prepared it for you.

“Here you go.” She handed you your drink with a smile.

You grabbed your drink, turned around, ready to leave – your face turned pale. When Chris told you he would send Jisung, you knew he would do it with or without your consent, whether you told him where you were or not. But apparently, since you weren’t playing by his rules, he decided that sending Minho, the man who seemed to hate your guts, was the most appropriated choice. The best punishment.

Your body went cold with dread as you stared at a very unpleased man. He had his hands in his pockets, looking almost relaxed but you swore his eyes were burning with anger and probably some hatred too.

Running away was tempting but would do you no good. There was a reason Chris had sent Minho – you bet he was good at what he did which meant you had no chance at escaping him. Trying to win him over with your natural charms would have been nice, but sadly Minho wanted nothing to do with you.

You decided that being yourself was the only thing you could do which probably would annoy him too. “Hello Minho. Why so grumpy?”

Minho considered for a moment that knocking you down would resolve all his problems, but sadly it would make Chris incredibly pissed too and dealing with a pissed Chris was not on his to-do list. “Why? Maybe, because I had to go looking for a spoiled little girl who decided to throw a tantrum?”

A vein popped out in your neck at the mention of ‘spoiled little girl’, he sure knew how to push your buttons, but you refused to show him how much his comment actually affected you. You refused to let him win. Rather than showing your true emotions, you simply took a sip of your drink, looking as unbothered as you could muster. “How rude. What a bitch.”

“You do realize that I’m getting you back?”

“No, you’re not.” He obviously was, you weren’t naïve to believe you could avoid him.

Minho tried to still his rage but you were making it hard. He couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that Chris could take so much risks just for the sake of one woman. A woman who was their enemy. Minho just couldn’t accept that easily that you were so willing to give up on your life.

Sadly for him, it didn’t matter what he wanted or what he thought. He had a job. A damn hard job. There was no way he could bring you back home without a fight, without attracting any more unwanted attention on you two.

“I’m bringing you back whether you like it or not. We can do this the hard way or the easy way. Choose.”

Daring, you took a step closer, looking straight into his eyes.

“Do your worst, pretty boy.” You smirked as you almost purred your words.

What a mistake. Big, big mistake.

You realized a little too late how serious Minho was about doing it the hard way. With a swift move, he had you thrown over his shoulder, making you shriek and drop your drink.

“Minho! Put me down!” You hit his back in hope he would drop you down but he didn’t budge. “Minho!”

“Shut up.” With that he slapped your ass for good measure which clearly did it work: you stopped talking and fighting.

Boy, you were in trouble.

▾▾▾

Minho was the worst company you could ever dream of. The moment he got you back to Chris’s place, he dropped you right on your bed, gave you a death glare, promising you a slow death if you dared to move, and left you alone. You regretted for a short moment not agreeing to Chris’s demand in the first place because clearly dealing with Jisung would have been more pleasant than dealing with a very grumpy and upset Minho.

But was Minho really the one you should be scared of? Probably not. You dreaded the moment you would have to face Chris. You weren’t completely scared but you didn’t want him to be upset with you, you wanted him to understand your point of view and how you felt.

After one hour of sulking in your room, your stomach grumbled, reminding you that despite all the excitement of this afternoon, you didn’t get yourself a proper meal. You left your room, convinced that Minho had left. Another mistake on your part.

The moment you got in the kitchen, you realized how little you knew about Minho. Yes, he was frowning and throwing daggers at you every single time. Yes, he looked like he would murder you in your sleep. And yet, despite being deeply annoyed with your attitude, you found him in the kitchen, cooking and looking like he fully belonged to the place. What an odd thing to witness, you told yourself.

Apparently, one of Minho’s talents was to have eyes behind his head. You did your best not to make any sound and yet he somehow knew you were lurking. “Done with sulking?”

“I- I wasn’t sulking!” You definitely were.

Minho ignored your blatant lie and glanced over his shoulder. “Take a seat. I bet you’re hungry.”

You were, a lot and you should be grateful that he cooked for you, but the need to fight him was just too strong. “Are you going to poison me?”

Minho actually paused. You were clearly joking but you weren’t far from the truth. “Don’t be ridiculous. I wouldn’t waste my precious poison on you. Not yet at least.”

“Noted. Understood. Please, don’t kill me.”

He chuckled. “I’ll think about it.”

The end was nearing, it had to be. Here you were joking with Minho, the person who hated your guts and the person you wanted to avoid at all cost for the sake of your sanity. You expected him to be mean to you, to snap at you, but no, he took you completely off guard by being nice. There was definitely something wrong.

“Should I worry that you’re being nice to me?” You asked, unable to refrain yourself.

Minho didn’t answer right away. He put a plate with food before you and then sat across from you, eying you. “Let’s say that cooking is a way for me to calm down.” Minho contemplated the idea of being honest with you. His opinion of you didn’t change, but while cooking he pondered about your little escapade. He put himself in your shoes and realized that he would have lost his mind too if he had to stay alone for so long. “I understand why you left. I would have done the same.”

That was pleasantly unexpected. “Thank you, I guess.”

“However, you should worry about Chris. He doesn’t get angry easily but when he does,” Minho looked at you, feeling sorry which worried you a little. “Let’s say I don’t want to witness it.”

You rubbed your temples trying to sooth the beginning of a headache. Minho’s warning about Chris didn’t come out as a surprise, from the time you had spent together, you had an insight into his personality. Did it scare you? Not really, but it did worry you. You wanted to avoid a fight with him, if you could.

“I’ll be fine.”

▾▾▾

Minho left once he received a message from Chris. Instead of feeling relieved that Minho was finally leaving and Chris would soon be home, you found yourself wishing for Minho to stay, for moral support.

Just in case Chris was still in bad mood, you chose to wait in the safety of your room. Maybe if he didn’t see you waiting for him, you could avoid a fight. Maybe he would think you were sleeping.

You were wrong. The moment Chris got home; you heard his footsteps getting dangerously closer to your room. Clearly, you couldn’t avoid him in his own home. But you didn’t let yourself worry about it; you were strong enough to face him. You told yourself at least.

With a book in your hands, you laid in your bed, unbothered, from outside. Inside? You were screaming and shaking.

Chris didn’t knock, he didn’t bother which gave away his mood. He stood by the door, watching you too calm for his liking.

“Hello Y/N.” He finally said, voice awfully calm.

You glanced from your book, pretending that there was absolutely nothing wrong, and smiled. “Hi you. How was your day?”

Chris had to give it to you, you were really something. He knew you were fearless and strong and would not cower so easily before anyone, him included, but it didn’t mean your behavior didn’t piss him off. He swallowed down his frustration, he had to if he wanted to have a proper conversation with you.

“You know,” Chris started walking towards your bed, undoing his tie in the process. “I’m trying really hard right now not to snap at you.”

“Effort appreciated.” You closed your book, not that you were really reading it anyway, and stared back with just as much intensity. “You’re angry.”

Against better judgement, you crawled to the edge of the bed where he stood. You sat with your hands on your knees, waiting for him to vent, to say everything he thought about you, about how spoiled you are. But he said none of that.

“Are you ready to talk or are we going to fight?” You asked

You hoped you could avoid a fight, especially with him. Considering how stubborn the two of you were, you weren’t sure a fight would lead to anything good. Chris, apparently, thought the same thing as he let a tired and long sigh out. He pulled at his tie and took it completely off before sitting beside you on the bed.

“I don’t want to fight.” He admitted, “But I’m still pretty pissed at what you did.”

You could understand why he was pissed, in his shoes you would have been pissed too, but you still hoped he could understand your point of view too. You reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’m sorry for worrying you. I really am. But I also need you to understand why I had to get out of this place.”

Chris squeezed your hand back and closed his eyes, trying to get his emotions under control. “I guess; I should apologize too. I didn’t realize how hard it was for you.”

“Let Jisung come with me next time.” You suggested. There was no way Chris would accept leaving you alone, exposed to danger, but if someone strong enough was with you, it was a different story. “Or Minho.”

Chris quirked a brow at the mention of Minho. He knew how you felt about the man and he definitely knew Minho’s opinion of you too. “Minho? Really?”

You chuckled at his surprise. Of course, he would. But after the little chat with Minho, you realized he wasn’t that bad – you could actually picture yourself getting along with him, given times. “I know. Shocking, right?”

“Yeah. I thought you hated him.”

“We had a chat and kind of bonded?”

Chris shook his head, amused with the outcome. “You being comfortable with Jisung is already alarming. But now Minho?”

“Oh come on, we’re not that bad!” Well, you could definitely see why you and Jisung being a team bothered Chris; the two of you were troublemakers and Jisung would choose your side without batting an eye.

“You and Minho? Terrifying.”

▾▾▾

For some reasons (you imagined it had everything to do with your little incident), Chris chose to work from home for the time being. A part of you was delighted, you didn’t feel so lonely anymore. On the other hand, Chris had been a tease. Not touching you was one thing, walking around shirtless was a whole other level of torture for you.

Just like today. He worked from the living room, once more shirtless, messy hair, looking like a damn meal that you wished you could devour. There was nothing you could do except stare at him from your seat, admiring his perfect, strong body. You watched as he would frown at the screen (and managing to look adorable while doing so), as he would rake his fingers through his hair in frustration.

With those thoughts came a realization.

‘Damn. I think it’s safe to say I like him.’ You thought

It wasn’t supposed to happen. Of course, it wasn’t a first for you, but considering the situation, you didn’t think it was appropriate. With a long sigh, you left your spot and went to the kitchen to get yourself a very much needed drink. Didn’t matter that it was only eleven in the morning.

Right before you could grab the bottle, you felt a warm presence behind your back. Chris reached for a bottle of water, half trapping you between his warm chest and the fridge. You gulped nervously, feeling his warm breath caress your nape. He nudged your neck with his nose, inhaling sharply.

“Did you use my shower gel?”

“No.” Yes. But really, you hadn’t done it on purpose; you were sleepy and grabbed without thinking and now you smelled like him which clearly was driving you crazy and had an effect on him too.

He clicked his tongue at your lie.

“Since you already smell like me, should I mark you?” He whispered as his lips brushed your ear.

This man was testing your patience and your self-control which surprisingly you still had. But not for long. All he had to do was put his lips on you and you would melt in his arms.

Chris pulled away the moment he got the bottle and went back to his business as if nothing had happened.

The little shit.

You took a deep breath, slapped your cheeks for good measure and then followed his steps. “Ok, that’s enough! Put a shirt on!”

Chris glanced at you and chuckled at your behavior. You tried to look as stern as possible with your hands crossed over your chest, frowning at him.

“Now, why would I do that?”

“For my sanity.”

Chris laughed at that. And did not put a shirt on.

▾▾▾

You got woken up in the middle of the night because it was getting particularly noisy which was odd. Last time you checked, there was only Chris and you, but you swore you heard other voices and rather familiar ones. You contemplated the idea of staying in bed, after all whatever was going on outside your room was none of your business. But could you really resist to your curiosity? Not really.

On tip toes you walked through the hall, following the yelling. It wasn’t hard to find the source; it came from Chris’s office. The door was half-opened but you hesitated. You weren’t sure how any of them would react to your presence, to you getting involved in their business. Even if you were Chris’s guest and someone who he swore to protect, you were still his enemy’s daughter.

“I’m going to fucking kill him!” Chris growled and banged his fist on the table.

Minho snorted, “Get in the line, dude.” Apparently, he too had grudges.

“Well look at that.” A sinister chuckle echoed right behind you. “What do we have here?”

Your blood froze in your vein as you felt a gun pointed right at your head. Whoever was standing behind you was clearly not taking it lightly to your eavesdropping. You gulped nervously and tried not to move, not to breath.

The man pushed the door with his feet and then forced you to get inside - all eyes on you. Nobody seemed surprised to see you walking inside. You smiled sheepishly at the men. “Hi Ji. Hi Minho.” Then you looked at Chris, silently apologizing. He only shook his head.

“I guess this is the infamous Y/N.” The man behind you finally dropped the gun and faced you. “You don’t look like Rick.”

You scoffed at his words. “Thank God! Have you seen his face?” You were indeed very lucky. You had inherited everything from your mom, your face, your body, your character. “I took after my mom.”

There was a moment of silence and you wondered what bothered them in your response. The man, however, cut short to your thoughts. He outstretched his hand for you to shake and smiled. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Changbin.”

Without his gun pointed at you, he looked way more charming. You shook his hand, delighted to meet another of Chris’s family member. Changbin looked quite different from Jisung or Minho, big strong muscles, eyes dark until he smiled, then it was all about mischief.

You chose to sit beside Jisung who without hesitation pulled your chair closer to him, choosing to ignore Chris’s displeased gaze.

“Why aren’t you wearing the pretty nightdress?” Jisung whispered to your ear, smiling wickedly at you.

It amazed you how easily Jisung could change the subject and forget about the current situation. You shook your head, amused. “You would have loved that, wouldn’t you?”

He playfully wiggled his brows in response.

“Can you guys stop and reconcentrate on our current problem?” Minho scolded the two of you, giving you the stinky eye.

“What happened?” You asked

It was unlikely they would actually share this information with you, but a girl could hope. There wasn’t much you could do anyway, but maybe you could give advices.

Chris took you by surprise by actually answering your question. “There was a fire, a criminal one, at one of the buildings I own. Five people died.”

You put a hand over your mouth to muffle a gasp.

“We checked the cameras and saw some suspicious men.” Jisung added. He took his phone out of his pocket and showed you one short video.

Your initial shock was replaced with confusion and a frown. The video was dark and you could barely see but Jisung zoomed on the image, showing one man in particular. One man you had seen a few times at your house. Incredulous, you looked at Chris. “My father is behind the fire?”

“Yes.” He didn’t try to deny it.

“Please, tell me you’re planning to fight back.”

Chris didn’t answer but his eyes promised you your father would pay for it. Dearly.

▾▾▾

Going to a club like any normal person was a foreign concept to you. Living the life you had, meant you didn’t get many chances to go clubbing, in fact it happened only once and you could barely remember the night. Tonight, however, was different.

The club was loud, crowded and yet with very chic vibe which made sense considering it was Chris’s.

Jisung brought you to Chris’s table who welcomed you with a set of shots, reminding you of your first meeting.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” You teased but accepted the challenge. You grabbed the first shot and emptied it in one go.

“I’m joining in.” Jisung was way too eager to get wasted.

Chris shook his head but didn’t try to stop his friend. He knew better than to try. “I’m not trying to get you drunk.” He then told you and took your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours. “I want you to enjoy the night. Drink to your heart, dance, do whatever you want. This place is safe.”

To say that your heart melted a little at his words would be an understatement. Your heart throbbed with joy, making you a little daring. You leaned closer to Chris and placed a kiss right in the corner of his lips. “Thank you.”

“I need something stronger if I have to deal with that.” Jisung groaned to himself.

▾▾▾

You did exactly what Chris had suggested. You drank more than you should have, you danced among the people on the dance floor, body buzzing with energy, feeling so alive, so free. It felt incredible as if your life had just begun.

With all the dancing, you completely lost track of time. You didn’t know for how long you had been dancing and you didn’t really care. You changed your dance partners a few times. Chris humored you by dancing for a moment with you but quickly gave up. Jisung had joined you too, just as relaxed and probably drunk as you.

Another handsome man joined Jisung, whispering to his ear as his eyes were locked on you. You quirked a brow and wondered if he was another of Chris’s close circle. If he was, it made you question whether Chris was hiring people based on their looks. How else could you explain that all of his friends were all that good looking?

Jisung outstretched his hand and you took it. He pulled you towards them with too much strength, making you stumble and fall right into his friend’s arms.

“Hi there.” He laughed and helped you to recover your composure. “I’m Hyunjin.”

Since you were that close to him, you took a moment to admire his face. Long brown hair, model-like face and that mole under his eye made him somehow even more captivating. “How come you’re that pretty.” Then you looked at Jisung, feeling incredibly offended. “How come all of you are that pretty?”

The two men laughed at your question but couldn’t deny they were pleased too.

“You fit just fine then.” Hyunjin smiled.

▾▾▾

You stumbled out of the bathroom, feeling that maybe it was finally time to find Chris and ask him to bring you home. You had drunk more than enough and your feet were killing you with all the dancing. Before you could do that, a man grabbed your hand and pulled you back to the dark hall.

“Hi Y/N.”

You blinked once, twice, your drunken brain slowly proceeding the sight before you.

Ren.

Ren was in the club. Ren had found you and cornered you. Once you fully realized he wasn’t just a hallucination, you sobered up right away.

“What are you doing here?” A tiny part of you was glad seeing him. You wondered what your father had done to him for letting you escape so easily; seeing him safe and sound brought relief. But being alone with him worried you.

“You know damn well why I’m here.” He snapped, raising his voice. Ren never lost his patience with you. He never rose his voice at you. And yet.

“I’m not going back.”

You pushed him with all your remaining strength to get him out of your way. He didn’t budge. At all. Instead, he pushed you against the wall and trapped you with his hands at each side of your head.

“Let’s be realistic Y/N.” He sounded cold, bringing the memory of one particular night, back to your mind. A memory you wished you could forget forever. “There’s nothing you can do to stop me from bringing you back.”

“And I believe you have overstayed your welcome.” Chris’s voice forced Ren to put space between the two of you. His hand flied to his gun just in case he needed it.

Chris’s eyes went back and forth between you and Ren, analyzing the situation, calculating.

“Leave.” Chris ordered, leaving no room for discussion.

Knowing Ren, you didn’t expect him to obey but he did. Maybe he realized there was nothing he could do with Chris around. Worse yet, he was joined by Hyunjin who looked just as pissed with Ren’s presence.

Ren spared you one last look before leaving, bumping into Hyunjin’s shoulder on purpose.

“Make sure he doesn’t try anything stupid.” Chris told Hyunjin.

“You have Jisung for that.”

“Hyunjin.”

“Fine! Fine!”

With Hyunjin gone, it left the two of you alone. All this time you had kept your mouth shut, simply because you were too stunned to speak. Chris pulled you into his arms and only when you felt him against you, you realized you were shaking.

“I shouldn’t have brought you here. I’m sorry.”

Despite your state, you managed to find your voice. “Don’t. I’m glad you did.”

▾▾▾

You thought you had seen Chris angry before. You were wrong.

That night, he came back from work pissed as hell, talking (not to say yelling) on the phone and completely ignoring your existence. You watched him from the coach, trying to figure out what was wrong and what you could do to make it better. But he didn’t give you any chance; he walked right to his office and slammed the door behind him.

It was a sight you weren’t used to and yet, instead of feeling intimidated, you were curious. You had no intention on eavesdropping but considering how loud he was talking on the phone, you heard him even with the door closed.

“I don’t give a fuck! Find him.” You heard Chris through the door, sounding even angrier than before, if possible.

It wasn’t your business, you told yourself but you worried. You grabbed your phone and hesitated. Asking Jisung would be the easiest, but would he have the answer? From what you gathered, despite being extremely close to Chris, the one who knew everything wasn’t him. Minho on the other hand was the real deal.

You lied.

Obviously.

Maybe you would come to regret it and remember way too late Minho’s attempt at warning you – but you couldn’t stop yourself from walking towards his door. It wasn’t hard to imagine how much Chris blamed himself for the loss but it wasn’t completely fair either. He was a good man, in your opinion, and he tried to do his best every time, whatever happened couldn’t be his fault, no matter what he thought.

By the time you got to the door, the yelling had stopped. You knocked, knowing all too well that there was no chance he would let you in. You bit on your lips and hesitated. Could you actually handle him right now? Maybe not but you couldn’t stop yourself. You took a deep breath and let yourself in.

Chris sat by his desk in the dark, the only source of light coming from outside illuminated his body. He looked both tensed and tired, his head resting between his hands.

“Chris?” You tried; your voice weaker than you intended.

You thought he didn’t hear you but the moment you took another step towards him, he snapped.

“Leave.” He ordered without even looking at you, in fear that if he saw you, he would say something he could potentially regret later.

Did you obey? Of course not.

“I’m not leaving.” You replied stubbornly.

Chris groaned in response. He didn’t want to see you or talk to you when he was so damn angry; he would look for any chance to start a fight if it meant he could get rid of all those feelings. But he didn’t want to fight with you, you didn’t deserve all the mean things he could say without meaning any of it. Despite better judgment, and because you were too stubborn, he finally looked your way. Even in the darkness, you could feel the intensity of his gaze. Your body knew that right now, the man before you was dangerous, but your heart knew better.

“Why can’t you listen for once?” He was quickly losing his patience. Any other day, he would have played along and let you have your way, tonight, however, he wished to be left alone, to deal with his guilt and rage.

Chris jumped out of his chair, so fast it fell on the floor with a loud noise, startling you. “Get the fuck out.”

You shook your head, refusing again.

“Y/N, I swear to god-“ He clenched his fist and inhaled sharply. He had little to no control left and you were making things impossibly hard.

You walked faster to get to him before he could say anything else. You stood inches from him. It pained you to see him this way, because despite his anger, you could feel his pain and regret.

“Don’t push me away.” You pleaded as you reached for him. You expected him to reject you but he didn’t. He let you put your hand on his shoulder and you gave it a gentle, comforting squeeze. “I know there’s nothing I can do to help you, but I don’t think you should be alone right now.”

You took the final steps between you two before finally wrapping your arms tightly around him and pulling him to you. To your surprise, Chris didn’t resist, instead, he fully buried his head in the crook of your neck, shaking in your arms.

Your heart melted at the sight. He was no longer the scary boss, but just a wounded man. You ran your fingers through his locks to sooth him. “I’m here for you, if you need me.”

Without fully realizing it, your words unsettled Chris. He wasn’t used to people confronting him whenever he was angry, whenever he just wanted to punch someone to relieve his pain and anger. But you? You showed him compassion and offered a shoulder to cry on if he needed – for that, he was grateful.

He pulled away from your arms only to get a good look at your face. Such a pretty face. He gently cupped your face, his thumb stroking your cheek lovingly, hoping to convey his feelings without needing to speak. He didn’t trust himself. Not yet. And you understood it. You simply closed your eyes and leaned into his touch, savoring the moment.

“You’re too good, Y/N.” He whispered, “I don’t deserve it.”

Your only response was to plant a kiss on the hand that was touching your face.

Chris observed your every move, your every breath, memorizing every inch of your face, every mole and the tiny scars that he had never noticed before. As you opened your eyes to look back at him, he inhaled sharply, completely bewitched by your beautiful eyes, drowning in them. You didn’t speak but the silence and your gaze spoke louder.

“Y/N.” He called for you without even fully realizing it. He wanted to kiss you. He wanted to keep you with him forever, even once you reached your common goal.

He pressed his forehead against yours and closed his eyes, savoring the moment, to think about what he should or shouldn’t do. But really, how could he resist you any more?

“Can I kiss you?” He whispered

Your reply came in the form of a gentle press of your lips against his. You didn’t hesitate, but seeing how this moment was intimate and fragile, you didn’t want to rush, you didn’t want to unleash all your feelings at once. And he understood.

Chris’s lips felt divine. Just like the kiss. It was slow and sweet and gentle and filled with unspoken promises.

#stray kids #stray kids smut #bangchan #stray kids fic #stray kids x reader #bangchan x reader #felix #felix x reader #bang chan smut #give it to me

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nocturn-warrior · 2 months

Text

I ALL THE THINGS I'VE SHOULD DONE• 🔅

Alucard x reader

Summary: You are pregnant with your first born with Alucard and he has been overprotective over you, but during one night he a jerk tries to assault you. Alucard and your friends kick his ass.

Warnings: angst, SA mentions, abortion mentions, violence, jealousy at Greta, pregnancy, crying (but ends up with fluff), my bad grammar and text similar to a 12 years old's writting fanfic (english is not my first language) and bad dialogues.

Note: month of the three milks is may in medieval calendar, puiuţ is a nickname romanian parents call their babies and it means baby chicken. Most of the titles of my fics are based on Kate Bush's songs or song quotes. This one is taken from This Woman's Work

You were so excited taking care of Sypha and Trevor's baby. With his mother's big blue eyes and his father's jet hair, he was the cutest thing in the world. Everyday, your heart beated faster to the thought of having a child of your own with Adrian; a little baby to light up your lives and bring joy to that enormous castle again, but it took months for you to start trying for it. There are too many children around, the village orphans would be jealous if we had a baby. You would squash off the idea to yourself with a silly excuse. Actually, you feared having a child would have a reverse effect. Alucard was still mentally fragile and you rememberer his breakdown nights, where he wouldn't close his eyes to sleep until the sunrise. But one day it happened, and when it happened you and Adrian couldn't contain the happiness, though your hearts were still full of doubts.

Immediatly you started to work on your unborn's room, asking the villagers carpenters to reform Adrian's childhood bedroom and redo the furniture just like the way he remebered, since it all was destroyed during that last fight. All except that little wolf plushie which you storaged in the wardrobe. Alucard was surprised when you, after the nursery was finally finished and you both were decorating it with paintings and toys Adrian crafted himself, came in with the plushie and placed it over the little crib. He could feel a tear forming into his eye in that very moment.

"H-how did you..."

He stuttered, holding the toy almost as if he was checking out to see if it was the original one. You chuckled and said:

"I kinda stole from you so many days before Trevor had his hero moment. It was too cute to stay all dusty and forgotten in a wooden box. What is his name, by the way?"

Alucard sniffles the toy for a while, it smells like childhood. Like comfort. Smells like a time that will never come back, but he is happy it will belong to his child now. For that, new memories will be builden up. He finally answers, sitting on the small bed with you and caressing the toy's fluffy head.

"Lupi"

The dhampir smiled as his eyes wandered across the bedroom: it was exactly like he remembered. With his drawing skills, it was easy to picture everything in paper and intruct the carpenters.

After two long years, the village was finally built. Settled in the Belmont ground, it was full of small but cozy houses, a small fair, and a graveyard to honor their lost members. They were grateful for everything, and for that they decided to make a big celebration, in the day of their protector saint, Sara Kali, who is also the protector of pregnant women, for the exhiled and despaired ones as well.

You, Alucard and your friends were invited to such a beautiful moment, since you four had a big role in providing that people comfort and protection during and post the nightcreatures attacks.

It was 24 in The Month Of the Three Milks and you were 5 months pregnant. At first, Alucard was a little hesitant about attending at the festival; besides he cherishes the comunity so much, he feared you made too much effort or that all of these sounds, scents and feelings would be overwhelming to you. In his core, he wanted to go of course, but your safety was more important.

"Are you sure, my darling? You need to rest, you and the baby. Greta and the others will understand if you don't attend"

He tenderly argues, placing a hand on your waist as you look for a proper dress to use in the occasion in your big wooden wardrobe.

"Adrian,"

You drop the pieces of clothes to cup his cheeks, his amber droopy eyes looking towards yours as you explain. How could you take that pouty face of his seriously in that moment? You contain a chuckle.

"I am fine. My sickness doesn't affect me anymore, and some fresh night are will be good for me. You worry too much"

Adrian looks down presses his hand over your growing bump, trying to feel the child. He's been obsessed with it, constantly asking you if his puiuţ, as he constantly reffers to your baby is awaken and active.

"They are quiet this afternoon, my love."

You answer, placing your hand over his colder one. He says nothing, thinking about the festival and if taking you was a good idea until he breaks the silence:

"Let's find you a dress to wear, i will do your hair"

Your eyes light up, filling his heart with joy. Alucard adores to see you smile and beam with happiness, specially now that your mood changes so frequent. Any wrong word can cause an endless angst in this sensitive head of yours. He doesn't complain, though. After all you did for him in those dark gloomy nights, is not just his duty but also his wish to take care of you.

The two of you mess around your clothes, trying to find anything that feels comfortable enought for you to wear all night long. You try this, try that, but all of your formal gowns feel tighter and constraining around your stomach. Trying the last one with no success, you leave a deep sigh and plop yourself on the bed, laying with your limbs spread:

"Alright. Forget it. I accepted my fate: we are not going to the festival."

Though you had a silly smile in your face, Adrian could tell you were very upset with the fact no dress could fit you propperly now, and standing up in silence while looking at your hopeless expression, he takes a hard decision. Entering or seeing his parents' personal objects was a challenge he has been avoiding for two years. That's why most of them were gifted to the people from Danesti. They shouldn't be in there storaging must and moths. He gave it all, except some.

"Actually, i think there are still some dresses that belonged to my mother when she was pregnant. My father kept her belongings, and i couldn't get rid of them yet"

The joyful expression returns to your face as Alucard gives the problem a solving, you quickly sit up again and smile excitedly at him. For a while, you wonder why he kept exactly his mother's pregnancy dresses. Was it because he already planned everything? He could have given them to Sypha years ago. But you don't question it, you just nod and stand up, holding his hands.

"Thank you, Adrian. But you don't have to do it, if it's too hard to see her things again."

He gently shushes you, raising your hand and placing a wet kiss over it and ressuring he would be alright. Adrian tells you to stay in your bedroom while he looks into an old wooden chest, containing some of his parents' remaining belongings.

Minutes after, he cames in with a beautiful red dress, larger in the stomach and breasts part. It's oppulent silk bounces as he moves smoothly, placing it over the bed.

"Here. Try it on. I might do some adjusts on it's sleeves or cleavage if you want me to. We still have time"

He smiles at you, and standing up, you grab it to try on as he said. You inspect it's fabric, the dress has a slight musty scent due to all of these years it spent untouched, but it's alright. You quickly slip off your undergarments and put the dress on. Alucard expectates for the final result, arms crossed and eyes wandering across you changing body. It looks so beautiful, like a goddess of fertility.

"It feels tight in the arms"

You raise up your limbs, proving your point. The long sleeves restrict your movements. Lisa had a more slender figure, you guess, so it would really feel tighter in some of your body parts. Alucard approaches you, adjusting some pieces of the fabric and turning you around to check out the clothing

"I can cut them for you, my dear"

The solution comes without hesitation and you are surprised. He would modify his mother's relics just because of you. The hesitation came from your part

"Do you really mean that? Love, this belonged to your mother"

He playfully scoffs and lifts up the silky hem of the gown, helping you to take it off so he could make the necessary adjusts

"If there was something my mother was not attached to, was material wealth. Plus, it's for the wife of her son i am doing that. Don't you worry, it's just a dress"

Adrian removes the dress from you completly and with the lines and needles, he starts to work on the sleeves as you sit on the bed, waiting for it to be finished.

One hour and a half later, your dress is finally adjusted and fits perfectly. Now, you two should take a shower, get perfumed and elegant for the event so important to your friends of the village.

Adrian does your hair as promised: he braids it and finishes with a ribbon matching the color of your dress. He ties your shoes and you help him folding the hem of his trousers. Now passing through the giantic doors of the castle, you two head to where the festival would be settled.

Arms interlocked and faces enlighted by the rising full moon light, you catch a sight of Sypha and Trevor sitting on a wooden bench, their son Simon is running around with the other kids.

"He is already running. Years ago this boy was just a..."

Words fail with excitement, seeing your nephew toddling and interacting with other children. Alucard completes the phrase, placing a hand on your bump.

"A little bean. Just like our baby. Soon, he or she will be joining them. Ooh, it seems like he is sticking a frog into his mouth!"

As Alucard finishes, you can see from a afar, Sypha rushing to stop the toddler of eating a frog. You giggle, already imagining the adaptations in the castle you and Adrian shall do to prevent your own kid to hurt themselves.

Trevor see you two approaching and, taking a large sip of his ale, he places the cup aside, facing you two.

"Hey, i thought you two wouldn't even come. Y/N, you have to try this ale. This shit is a drop from heavens!"

By his tone, you could tell your friend was already drunk. Alucard intervines with a calm, yet slightly sarcastic tone, cracking his whip:

"You are not trying to make my pregnant wife drink alcohol, are you, Belmont?"

"I forgot this detail"

He snorts, shrugging and turning his attention back to his beloved ale. Since Simon was born, Trevor and Sypha had made a promise he would never drink again, but today is a special occasion so they gave it a break. Talking about Sypha, she returns to the place, holding the willful Simon on her hip and smiling as she spots you and Alucard.

"I can't keep an eye off from this boy, it's like he is the exact copy of his father. I can't keep an eye off of him as well. Trevor, you are already drunk?"

She places her free arm on her hip, facing the sitting man who denies it, with his clearly intoxicated tone.

"Gods, i don't know why but i still love you that it hurts!"

She chuckles, sitting by her husband's side and releasing Simon from her arms before she finally talks to Alucard and you.

"Your bump is already so big, my dear Y/N! Bigger than last week. Please, cherish this moment, becsuse after that you will deal with back pains and ankle soreness due to this little human growing in there"

Sypha looks tenderly at your belly jutting against the red silk of your dress, and then at her own son who rushes to "uncle Lulu", as he calls your husband.

"But it's all worthy."

You were so excited by seeing your friends that didn't even paid attention to the festival decoration. It was beautiful, full of colors and good scents comming from the food. The women wore their traditional clothes, children ran around the big fire settled in the middle. The tawny moon enlighted everything, making the scenary even more breathtaking. Alucard conduces you to sit over the bench and accomodates himself by your side as well.

"What do you think, love?"

He whispers in your ear before kissing your cheek

"Beautiful. I love how their people, even after so many troubles and distress, found a way to put everything together"

The food scent was inviting, you spot a plump old lady holding a large plate of something you judged to be sarma, placing it over the large table along with other food. An increasing desire starts to take over you, and Alucard notices your fixated gaze. He chuckles, placing a hand on your belly before standing up.

"Are you two hungry? Stay here, i will get some food. Will you guys want something as well?"

He looks at Sypha who shakes her head, and at Trevor who says nothing but a grunt that Alucard reads as a no. You watch your dhampir walk graciously towards the table abundant with food, greeting the people as he approaches it. Resting your elbow on your knee and your chin on your palm, you don’t notice how head over heels you are until he comes back holding a bowl and speaking to you so sweetly:

“Here, my dear. It’s still warm”

Alucard sits by your side and you glance at the bowl full of sarma; a meal made of cabbages and stuffed with meat and rice, a typical dish of the people from Danesti. He grabs a forkful and takes it towards your mouth, waiting for your approval. You chew up the bite, the flavors exploding in your mouth. Alucard’s smile increases when you leave a satisfied groan and nod your head. He places the bowl on your lap, allowing you to occasionally feed him as you two chat with Sypha.

Some children from the village spot you sitting in there and rush towards the bench. As expected, they were quite excited about the baby on the way, always competing between them to touch your bump and feel their new “sibling”. After all those little ones passed through, you were happy to see them play around. You see in their faces, the future of that community like flowers blooming after a long winter.

“mother, mother!”

A little girl grabs the hem of your silky dress, trying to get you attention and climb up to your lap, followed by other three kids who fight for their places. Noticing the mess they could make, Alucard grabs the bowl you hold and tries to calm down the hectic little ones.

“Woah, woah, calm down, Delia, Elek. Let your mother breath.”

He adverts the two sassiest ones with his firm wet warm tone, gently pulling them away as they chitter.

“But father Alucard, I want to feel the baby!”

They argue and you can’t resist to their pouty faces, sensitized by your mood changes you intervene into Alucard’s rebuke, accepting their little excited hands to touch your bump. Your husband doesn’t protest back, he knows how stubborn you are and how these children love you, but as you allow Delia to climb up onto your lap, he can’t help but feel apprehensive the girl would make too much pressure over your belly. You can see the disappointed expression in her face as she roams her palm around your stomach but isn’t able to feel nothing.

“The baby is sleeping now.”

You whisper, tilting up her little chin and smiling pacifically. Alucard admires your ability to calm down these children, always so patient and warm. Delia seems to understand the situation and climbs down from your lap, turning to her little friends and communicating the state of your baby. Still, the kids wouldn’t give up and keep fighting for your attention. Alucard knows that gently pushing them away wouldn’t do much good and gives up, so he lets it be. Sypha, noticing your discomfort calls one the children’s name and says:

“why don’t you take little Simon to play around a little, Delia? Hey, but don’t allow him to eat any frog!”

She adverts as the little girl gives up on pesting you and quickly takes your nephew’s hand, guiding him off from Sypha’s lap.

“nor any cricket or moth!”

“Alright, aunt Sypha!”

The small group of children leaves the four adults alone, in a mass of giggling and screaming mess. You can breathe finally, laying your head over Alucard’s shoulder and watching them move away, secretly hoping your baby takes after you and your husband, and doesn’t come to be so hectic like their future peers. Chatting with your friends about your adventures and about parenthood, most of the conversations end up with mocking Trevor. You guys are really taking advantage of his intoxicated state to make fun of him. The weather is pleasant and the crackling fire sounds relax you.

You hate it, but a snort leaves your throat when one of the children approach again, rushing towards Alucard this time at least. The little boy has in his face the expression of the messenger of a king, and speaks while panting, leaving Alucard slightly worried. You fear something bad has happened, as well.

“father Alucard, Greta wants to talk to you.”

The request was not urgent or a life or death case, but the woman’s name has sent you some discomfort into your heart. It’s not like you hate Greta: she is not as close as Sypha is to you, but she is still a friend and you recognize the importance she has to the community, yet you can’t help but feel insecure whenever she is around. Even though it’s been two years since you and Adrian are together, even though you are pregnant with his child.

The blonde man places a quick kiss on your cheek, swearing he will come back as soon as possible and stands up, guided by the child towards the house Greta awaits for him. You observe him adjusting the collar of his shirt as he approaches, and you see Greta come out through the door. Even from meters afar, you notice and admit how gorgeous she looks in that traditional dress, her dark hair and bronze skin glowing under the moonlight, and the wind seems to bring her perfume to you. Almost if it was teasing your jealousness and provoking your feelings.

The leader greets Alucard with a tight hug and in this moment your heart slightly sinks. Ruminating about their possible conversation topic, you convince yourself she is just thanking him for the support he offered during these two years, and not complimenting his beautiful amber eyes or his soft blonde locks you combed yourself. She drags him to inside the small house, followed by other two villagers.

Your fists close, you start to bounce your leg in anxiety and Sypha who is much an observer, places her hand gently on yours and leans in, looking at you with tenderness:

“Y/N, calm down. He is going to talk to the elder ones. You have nothing to worry about. Greta isn’t stealing your man.”

She speaks in a laid-back tone, softly caressing your hand. You turn to face your friend but you can’t contain the concerned expression. Sypha chuckles a bit, not mocking at you, but finding your feeling extremely valid. You protest:

“I-I am not jealous, Sypha. I just---“

You can’t find better words to describe your feeling, so you just give in to Sypha’s moral lesson.

“You are jealous, Y/N. I can tell it by the pout in your face. But you know what? That’s completely understandable, dear friend. You are going through a lot of changes all over your body, it’s pretty normal.”

She leans in a little more and whispers in tone of secret:

“when I was pregnant, i argued with Trevor about anything. Even ale itself made me feel jealous of him”

Your friend takes your hand once again and continues:

“what you need to know, is that Alucard loves you no matter what. It wasn’t Greta who held him every night when his nightmares tormented him. It wasn’t Greta who took care of him at his lowest, my dear. Adrian loves you and he doesn't hide it"

You know Sypha meant every word, but why did you feel like Alucard would eventually get tired of you? Why did you think Greta would charm him with her strong sense of leadership and athletic phisique? You try to focus on something else ignoring the burning jealousy increasing and consuming your brain and on Sypha's trying to cheer you up.

You finally see Alucard step out from the cabin he entered with the leader of the village, his beautiful face beams with happiness as he chats something unhearable. Greta pulls him closer to where other young women beautifully dressed in those tradicional patterns organize themselves to start the dancing, he is probably greeting them.

The young men start playing the instruments, and the ladies dance in the rhythm. Seeing your husband idly moving his shoulders, you expect for the worst to happen. Greta takes him by his hand and starts teaching him how to move smoothly like the dancers, twirling around and expecting him to do the same. Adrian doesn't give a single glance at where you are sitting, he seems to be hypnotized by the moment.

You stand up and feel Sypha's tight grip on your wrist. You look down at her as she asks softly:

"Where are you going"

"I need to pee"

You force a smile and even if it was your intention, Sypha knew you were distancing for other motive. But she doesn't intervene, though. She just releases your wrist and focus on Trevor who seems to be in an alcoholic catalepsy by her side.

You walk towards the latrine behind the village, holding up the hem of dress so it wouldn't get stuck in the ivies underneath. Leaning against the wooden thin wall of the cabine, you feel an increasing heat take over your face and thick tears drop down from your eyes. The music of the festival sounds distant, but you can hear the people's laughing and cheering.

The crickets and night birds seem to be the only spectators of your breakdown until you hear a hoarse, unfamiliar voice approaching you.

"Why are you crying, beautiful lady?"

You pull up your head from the wall, turning to where the voice comes. The light of a torch reveals the silhouette of a man who limps towards you, speaking in an alcohol intoxicated voice.

"A beautiful lady like you shouldn't be here, all alone. Did you know the nightcreatures are still around?"

He laughs in a mischevious tone, spitting on the ground. Getting closer and closer, he sees your face and his eyes widen up, a smirk forms again in his face:

"Are you the dhampir's wife?"

You've never seen that man at the village, he has been here due to the festival, you guess. You gulp, shortly nodding your head:

"Y-yes, mister."

The man stays in silence for a while, his eyes roaming through your body like he he was chosing a piece of meat until they linger on your belly.

"You are pregnant! You are carrying that evil's seed! Your husband's race only brought disgrace to this land. This thing you carry in your womb is cursed, it has a cursed blood just like it's genitor. You are nothing but catter for that demon to spread his offspring"

Your heart sinks at the tone he speaks to you, his intoxicated breath stinging in your nose as he approaches. You can't move, your body freezes as he says:

"I will put an end on it"

He completes with a sly grin, spitting on the ground again:

"And insert mine inside this pretty belly of yours"

You try to run, but the man grabs you by your middle and starts to run his filthy hands across your cleavage. Where is Alucard? You stood with him during this thundery years and when you need him most, he is entertaining himself with Greta. You fear for your child as the man's fingers press deeper against your skin.

"If you screm, it's gonna be worse. They can't hear you"

The man whispers and all you can do is whimper.

All the while, Sypha watches the movement of people, the colors of the dancers' dresses twirling and the instruments sounds echoing to inside the forest. It's been 5 minutes and you didn't came back. She fears leaving you alone was a bad idea.

Her attention turns to Alucard who after chatting with the villagers and receiving their grateful compliments, happily heads to the bench eager to reunite with you. His face drastically changes noticing only Sypha (and a dozing off Trevor) are in there.

"Where is Y/N?"

He asks the woman, a concerned expression in his face, and he could see a slight frown or worry in Sypha's forehead, but she didn't want to alarm him by mentioning her concern.

"She went to the latrines minutes ago"

For a while, Alucard feels a little upset with your friend. She shouldn't have let you go on your own. He stays in silence for a while, deciding if he should go after you.

Your vision gets foggy by the tears, and you can't tell if the music stopped or you are just falling out of consciousness by the terror, but as the sounds of instruments finally fade completly, you scream in agony, hoping someone can hear you plead. Hoping Alucard could hear your plead.

Alucard's pupils shrink as he hears your recognizable voice and before Sypha could even ask him if he heard that too, he desappears in a figure darker than night, smoothly directing itself to where the sound of you came from. Sypha rushes after him, already closing her fists, ready to use her powers.

The drunken man slides his hand down to your womb, roughly pressing his thumbs onto your skin. You groan, tears falling down your cheeks. He is going to take the life of your so expected puiuţ.

The trees and people speed distorted as Alucard in his fog shape rushes in your rescue. His heart is filled with an unnatural rage, something he never felt before as he sees that filthy bastard hurting his beloved. Something similar to what his father might felt.

The dhampir materializes in front of the man, pushing him with anger against the stone wall of a house, the bastard couldn't even tell what was going on until he feels Alucard's piercering eyes, red as flames staring into his and his sharp fangs so close to his neck as he hisses like a serpent.

He was about to take his life when a sharp disc of ice cuts the bastard's skin. Alucard swiftly looks back and sees Sypha rushing towards you as you fall on your knees, sobbing. His attention then turns back to the man who feels the dhampir's fangs almost touching his throat.

"I am not marking this date so important for the villagers with your filthy blood. But get to know: if you touch my wife once again, i open your abdomen and wrap your guts around a tree with you alive."

This words doesn't seem to be spoken by your sweet Alucard. For a while, it feels like his father's anger for human kind took his mind and manifested phisically using his body.

He releases the drunk who limps florest inside and his eyes shift back to it's beautiful amber pigmentation, now filled with tears as he sees you broken on the ground attached to Sypha's shoulder, sobbing in shock.

"Shh... it's everything alright now, Y/N. He is gone"

Your friend rubs your back soothingly and helps you to stand up, but your arm never leaves hers until Alucard approaches, stretching his arms open to embrace you.

"Y/N! I am so sorry. I've failed you"

"H-he tried to kill our puiuţ..."

You whine and he rests his chin on top of your head, holding you tighter. He couldn't save his mother years ago, he couldn't save his father from his own madness. If he lost you to such an avoidable way, he couldn't forgive himself.

Sypha's heart sinks seeing her two friends in such a broken state. She hugs you both tightly and recomforts you, guiding you back to the festival.

No one of you including Trevor who was sleeping to the lullaby of alcohol had mood to continue in the village that night, going home was the only option. Your friends would sleep in the castle.

You didn't exchange a word way back to home until you silently opened the doors of your chambers and slowly slipped off from your dress. In the oval mirror, you could spot the two marks caused by the agressor's hands. A lump forms in your throat again, it's been q while since you don't feel your child, you fear the worst happened.

Alucard cames in, wrapping his arms around you though he hesitated for a while. He kisses your cheek and kneals down in front of you, pressing his ear against your belly.

"Can you hear it? The heartbeat... can you still hear anything?"

You speak, trying your best to not to cry being so aprehensive about his answer. He lingers a little, shifting his position and lowing down his breath.

"I can hear it."

He looks up at you, a sigh of relieve leaves your body.

"Our puiuţ is safe."

Alucard stands up after placing a kiss on your belly and wraps his arms around you, wiping away your relieved tears. You hug him tightly, sobs muffled by his chest and his tears fall over your hair as well.

"That was my fault"

You silently climb onto bed after calming down from the overwhelming night you had, and after minutes, he finally breaks the silence.

"It was my fault. If you or our baby got hurt, it would be my fault"

You didn't want to rub salt into the wound though you knew the incident was directly linked to the fact Alucard left you. Placing a hand on his shoulder, you listen to his apologize.

"I should have known you would be pissed off with me because of Greta, but it was not my intention. Forgive me, darling. I promise i will never leave your side ever again"

He turns to face you with those droopy amber eyes, tears tangled between his long eyelashes and he blinks for them to follow their flow. You cup Alucard's cheek and gives him a ressuring smile. You couldn't be mad at him.

"Accepted"

Seeing Alucard have another breakdown was the last thing you wanted to see. He wraps his arms around you, hand resting on your belly like a shield as you sleep in a deep slumber, lulled by the wind knocking on the window.

#the last paragraphs were kinda shitty #no creative juice #adrian tepes x reader #alucard x reader #reader insert

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