Buck tells Maddie that he isn’t in love with Eddie, and she—well, she tries to believe him.
She does. A valiant effort, truly. It’s just that Maddie learned how to read her little brother before he even learned to read the alphabet, and she can tell when he’s not being entirely truthful. To her, or to himself. Like when he was five years old and he’d run inside from the street, bike abandoned on the front lawn, with scraped knees and two holes in his brand new jeans to match, and insist that it wasn’t his fault. “I wasn’t going too fast, Maddie,” he’d say. “My– My bike went over a rock.” Tearful eyes pointed towards the floor. Hands always fidgeting.
Kind of like he’s doing now.
He’s fiddling with the paper napkin his cutlery came rolled in, making tiny rips around the edges. It’s become more and more frayed as their lunch date has progressed, and Buck’s gaze is glued to it as he talks.
“It’s not that I don’t like Ravi,” he says, frowning when he rips a bit too far. “I do. He’s great. I’m just…not used to having to explain what I’m about to do before I do it, y’know?”
Maddie hums. “It’ll take some getting used to.”
“I know,” Buck sighs. “It’s just weird.”
“It’s natural to miss Eddie,” she says. Carefully. Neutrally. “You guys worked side-by-side for a long time.”
“I don’t–” His eyes flick up to meet hers for the first time in five minutes, narrowing—as if they’re playing some kind of game, and he’ll be damned if he’s about to play right into her hand (Maddie’s fairly sure all she did was make a simple comment). “I mean, of course I miss him. He’s my best friend. But it’s not like I’ve never worked with anyone else before.”
“Exactly. You and Ravi will find that wordless communication in no time.”
Eyes back to the napkin. “Right.” Rip. “Anyway, how are you? Still feeling…cooped-up?
Maddie sighs. “Yeah, but…not as bad. I’ve been going on walks. Plus, now that Jee’s home for the break, she’s keeping me busy.”
He grins. “That’s what I like to hear.”
It’s then that his phone, face down on the table, chimes with a notification. When he picks it up, his smile grows impossibly wider, in an involuntary, reflexive sort of way that almost makes Maddie feel like an intruder for looking. “Who is it?” she prompts, and Buck quickly schools his face when he looks at her, like he’d been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to.
“It’s, uh– It’s Eddie.” He flips the phone around to show her, and on it is a picture of Christopher, in front of him a chess board with far fewer black pieces on it than white. “Chris is teaching him how to play, and he keeps losing. Badly.”
Maddie laughs. “Sounds like he needs a better teacher.”
“Eh, Eddie was pretty hopeless to begin with.”
He glances back down at his phone, eyes twinkling as he types out a response, and Maddie can’t help but think that her stubbornly resistant little brother is the hopeless one—navigating his new reality with his eyes closed; carrying a torch behind his back for a man who now lives eight hundred miles away.
She sighs.
Buck puts his phone down and changes the subject.
* * *
He picks up on the fifth ring, voice sounding tinny and a bit far away. “Hey, Mads, sorry—you’re on speakerphone. Need my hands free to chop veggies.” She hears the faint sound of a drawer opening and closing as he talks; the clattering of some utensil against the countertop.
“Ooh,” she says, “Whatcha making?”
“Soup,” Buck says brightly, “with chicken, peppers, zucchini—all kinds of stuff. Eddie sent me the recipe.”
Maddie smiles. Chim, sitting next to her, raises his eyebrows and smiles too. “Oh?” she prompts.
“Yeah–” His knife hits the cutting board, again, again, again. Chop-chop-chop. “–he found it in a drawer at his abuela’s house. One of her secret recipes, apparently. He thought I’d like to try it.”
“Her secret recipe,” Maddie repeats.
“Yep.”
“And he just…sent it to you?”
“Yeah?” And then, like he’s just realized what she’s getting at— “it’s not like she minds. She’s given me all kinds of recipes.”
“Right,” Maddie says. She glances to the side at Chimney, and her husband is just sitting there, grinning into his palm and shaking his head in a sort of resigned bewilderment. Tell me about it, his eyes say, as if this kind of familial domesticity has played out in front of him a million times over—because it honestly, probably, has. “I didn’t even know you liked soup,” she continues. Plenty of memories of her brother turning his nose up at it through the years.
“Yeah, well, I’m trying new things–” CHOP. “–in my brand new kitchen.”
Chimney snorts. “Right. Brand new,” he chimes in. “Having trouble finding anything?”
In the split second pause on the other end of the line, Maddie can tell Buck is rolling his eyes. “I’m glaring at you, Chim,” he says. “You can’t see me, but I’m glaring at you.”
Her husband just grins.
“Anyway, what’s up? Did you guys need something?”
“Yes, my wonderful brother-in-law who I have never made fun of, ever in my life—” Chim starts. Maddie’s sure Buck is rolling his eyes again. “Wanna spend tomorrow night with your adorable niece?”
Buck sighs, but he’s smiling. She can hear it. “You know I can never say no to that.”
“Great!” Maddie says. “I’ll drop her off at six. Let us know how that soup turns out.”
“I’ll send pictures. Eddie made me promise to take some so he could show his abuela.”
Chimney shakes his head, grinning. “Of course he did.”
“Goodbye.”
* * *
The firehouse is quiet when Maddie walks through the doors. She’d expected it to be a bit more hectic, really, given the time of morning, but things just seem settled. Comfortable. Yet to be disturbed by LA’s 8am traffic rush.
She hears the people she’s looking for before she sees them, their murmured chatter drifting down from the loft, and as she reaches the top of the stairs, she finds them gathered around the kitchen island, all clutching cups of coffee. She can’t help but smile at the tired, droopy expressions on each of their faces. Clearly the caffeine hasn’t kicked in yet.
“Hi,” she calls out, stepping into the space, greeted by turning heads and a few bleary-eyed smiles in return. Her husband’s face brightens immediately—before he’s even noticed the big pink box in her hands. “Thought you guys might be in need of some fuel this morning.”
Chim rises from his seat for a quick kiss on the lips. “Just what the doctor ordered,” he says with a grin, taking the collection of pastries from her hands and setting it down on the counter.
“You’re too good to us, Maddie,” Hen says.
Bobby smiles. “Thank you so much, Maddie. You didn’t have to do this.”
She waves him off. “Believe me, I’m going stir-crazy in the house all on my own. This was just an excuse to get out and do something.”
They all chuckle, and Chimney raises the lid on the box for everyone to take their pick.
Well—almost everyone.
“Where’s Buck?”
Hen makes a noise in response. Swallows a mouthful of croissant, and answers, “Downstairs. Eddie called.”
And when she glances over the balcony towards the floor, she sees him—tucked against one of the trucks in the far corner with his phone in one hand, pressed to his ear, and gesturing wildly with the other, despite the fact that his recipient can’t see him.
What strikes her, though, is his smile. God, it’s blinding. Grinning from ear to ear like he’s won the damn lottery, just because he gets to hear his best friend’s voice on the other end of the line. Radiant, comfortable; so soft around the edges that Maddie worries some part of him will spill over onto the concrete floor—all from a conversation that, if she's overhearing it correctly, seems to be about Christopher’s room-cleaning habits. And when he laughs, it’s a sound so genuine that she gets the sudden urge to jump into her car, drive to El Paso, and bring the Diazes back to Los Angeles herself.
Maddie’s much more used to the restless, ever-anxious version of her little brother. She doesn’t often see him looking so comfortable in his own skin. She finds herself wishing there was something, anything she could do to keep him there.
Some part of that train of thought must show on her face, because when she glances back, Bobby catches her eye and smiles, softly. A little sadly. Like he wishes he had the power to do the same.
Maddie just shakes her head and grabs a croissant from the box. Tries not to notice how familiar Buck seems to be with the tendency his best friend’s son has to leave too many glasses of water on his bedside table.
* * *
Maddie lets herself into Buck’s house three weeks later and is met with an empty living room. It’s impeccably clean; carefully organized. Furniture she recognizes from his loft placed at perfectly opposing angles—a vase of fake flowers placed right in the centre of the coffee table. The late afternoon sun streams in through the front window, but it doesn’t seem to quite reach the edges of the room.
She toes off her shoes in the entryway and heads down the hall in search of her brother. Nowhere to be found in the kitchen (a noticeably bigger space without the table that once inhabited it), but instead, found leaning in the doorway of the empty second bedroom, as if he’d been standing there staring at it for god knows how long before she got here.
There’s nothing in the room. Nothing really to look at, other than the small window on the opposite wall with the curtains drawn.
“What do you think you’re gonna do with it?” she asks, now at his elbow, and he doesn’t startle. So he heard her come in after all.
“I dunno,” he says. “Might just leave it like this.”
“Empty?”
Buck shrugs, plastering on a smile. “Don’t know what else I’d do with it. It’s not like I need an office.” He huffs out a breath, like he can’t quite commit to a real laugh, and Maddie just looks at him—really looks, at the tightness in his shoulders; the way that smile doesn’t reach his eyes, and the bags that seem to live beneath them instead. For a split second, she wants to haul him out of here and back to her house where he can sleep until his world is right side up again.
Instead, she suggests, “You could make it into a guest bedroom.”
Buck wrinkles his nose. Takes a breath and cracks another smile, but his energy for excuses seems to run out before the words have even left his mouth, and he deflates. “I don’t think I want anyone else sleeping in here.”
It’s the first bit of true honesty that she’s gotten from him in weeks, but it doesn’t exactly make her feel better.
“I just…I didn’t think it would be this–” He chews the inside of his cheek, looking down at his hands, and Maddie expects him to say weird, but instead, he says, “hard. Living here. Without them.”
Maddie sighs, wrapping her arms around one of his. “I know. But you know, filling the space might make it feel a bit smaller.”
Buck nods, still staring at the lone window. “Yeah. But I— I think I’ll leave it like this. For now.”
And Maddie contemplates shaking some sense into him; going on a shopping spree at IKEA and forcing this place into something a little less haunting herself. But they’d still be standing here, in Eddie’s house, cooking dinner in Eddie’s kitchen, eating it in Eddie’s dining room. Buck will still go to sleep in Eddie’s bedroom tonight—and she decides that rebuilding his own life is something Buck will have to take on himself.
So she simply says, “Okay,” and lets Buck pull the bedroom door shut. Allows him to move into the living room, and change the subject to whether they should have chicken or pasta for dinner.
* * *
Maddie pulls into her own driveway three days later and finds her brother on the front stoop—shoulders hunched, eyes glued to his feet. She slams the car door shut and plants herself in front of him, waiting for his eyes to meet hers.
“You okay?” she asks, when they finally do.
He looks at her, face open and honest and pleading for answers—an expression she’s seen countless times, since before he knew how to tie his shoes—and says, “I think I’m an idiot.”
And Maddie knows, immediately, what he means, because she’s been watching him inch towards realization since he came to her the first time, mixed up and messy and appalled at the mere thought of the truth.
“Yeah, I think you have been, a little. But you know, it’s never too late to be honest.”
Buck laughs; dry, humourless. “He lives halfway across the country, Mads.”
“I don’t mean with him,” she stresses. “I mean with yourself.”
Buck swallows. “Right. I’m not sure that’ll make me feel any better.”
“Maybe not,” Maddie says, lowering herself down to sit next to him on the concrete stoop, “but it’s probably better than pretending it’s not there.”
He sighs, and she smiles, laying her head gently on his shoulder. He’s quiet, contemplative for a moment, before he settles on, “Probably.”
Maddie just takes his hand and squeezes.
* * *
Buck is wearing a sweater that Maddie has never seen before. Knitted, dark blue yarn, a little tight around the shoulders. It pulls up above his wrist when he moves his arm, reaching forward to gesture at Chimney across the dinner table in the midst of a heated debate that Maddie has purposefully not been paying much attention to.
“The second one was way better!” Buck is insisting, while Chim gapes at him, appalled.
“I’m sorry, you’re telling me Top Gun: Maverick is better than the original?”
“Yes! The stunts were so much cooler.”
“It was never about the stunts, Buck–”
Their attention is drawn from the (clearly earth-shattering) dilemma at hand when a pair of headlights sweeps over the dimly-lit room through the front windows—a car pulling into the driveway. Maddie frowns.
“Are you expecting someone else?” she asks, and Buck shakes his head, brows knitted.
“Uh– no. No, just you guys,” he says. He stands, then, moving away from the table—still littered with dishes from their dinner and dessert—and into the dark living room to get a look at their mystery guest. When he reaches the window, his whole body freezes, like some frigid ocean wave has just crashed over him, swallowing the room and its perfectly placed contents whole.
“Buck?” Maddie prompts, though she has a feeling, as she watches his wide eyes track whatever scene is unfolding on his driveway, that she knows exactly who it is. That someone has just come home.
In lieu of an answer, Buck rushes to the door, throwing it open, and behind it is—Christopher. A bit taller than when she last saw him; his hair a bit shorter, but still, unmistakably, Christopher Diaz. Even simply from how Buck’s face lights up in a way that Maddie hasn’t seen since he left.
“Hey, Buck,” he says, grinning. Then, a beat later, “Is that my Dad’s sweater?”
And Buck just laughs, smiling ear-to-ear, and lets out a breath that Maddie suspects he’s been holding in for months.
* * *
Three weeks later, the house is warm. Comfortable. The air smells like home-cooked food and the scent of whatever candle Buck had lit when the sun went down and the overhead lights felt too intrusive. Scattered all over the coffee table are plates holding the remnants of the cake that had, before it was sliced into, read: ‘Welcome back pardners, yeehaw!’, along with half-finished glasses of water and wine.
By far the most eye-catching thing in the room, though—at least to Maddie—is her brother. Radiantly happy, shining like a disco ball as he laughs at something Hen just said, leaning back in the chair that he’s tucked in close next to Eddie’s. He looks…settled, finally. Even as he keeps sneaking glances at his best friend like he can’t quite believe he’s actually here.
It’s a relief, to see him like this, Maddie can admit. To be reminded—after months of confusion, denial, indecision—that sometimes, her brother is simply content. Loved, and aware that he is loved. That his life isn’t simply a timeline of difficult moments with a few smiles thrown in in between.
She smiles. Tries to commit the image to memory.
At some point, after getting caught up in conversation with Athena about the latest novel she’s been reading (something about beach houses and family scandals), she looks back to find that people have scattered—her husband at the dining table, sneaking another slice of cake to their daughter; Christopher, Denny, and Mara huddled over a Nintendo Switch in the corner; Bobby and Hen laughing about something over by the window.
Buck, nowhere to be found.
She excuses herself, following to where she expects him to be—likely already trying to load dishes into the dishwasher despite the fact that the party is only half-over—but pauses in the doorway when she hears his voice already in conversation with someone else.
“You didn’t have to do all this,” Eddie says, quietly. Fondly.
“All what?”
“This. The party, the cake. I was only gone for a couple of months, you know.”
“Well, I can’t take credit for the cake. That was all Hen,” Buck says. “But…we missed you.” Then, more earnestly, “I missed you.”
Eddie hums. Pauses, then says, “I missed you too.”
They fall quiet, and Maddie is about to step into the room to make herself known—the guilt of eavesdropping creeping in—but when she puts one foot forward, she catches a glimpse around the corner; the two of them wrapped up in each other, Eddie leaning in to press a kiss to Buck’s lips. Easily, like he’s done it before.
“I love you,” he says. Soft. Meant only for Buck.
Buck grins—that same blinding, lottery-winning smile Maddie caught him wearing weeks ago—and says, simply, “I love you too.”
And as Maddie backs out of the room, finding a seat at the dining table beside her husband and daughter, she can tell she’s grinning too. If only because of the way Chimney looks at her, eyebrows raised, and asks, “What? Something funny?”
She shakes her head. “No,” she says, “Just glad everyone is back where they belong.”
“Oh, right.” Clark’s hand was back at the bridge of his nose. “Wally wanted me to drop some hints that he might be interested in Batman.” He shrugged. “But I’m not supposed to be too direct about it.”
A near imperceivable shift in Bruce’s countenance crossed his face under the mask. It was an expression that some might even call a smirk. “Is that so?”
Summary: Growing up, you always learned to look over your shoulder at night, hoping to never run into the catlike gleam of a vampires eyes. Yet, one night on your way home you find yourself staring into the very things you feared most. Dangerously beautiful and undeniably confident, Park Jimin was everything you knew you needed to stay away from, but he had other plans.
Warnings: Language | Prey Stalking | Pain/Blood Kink | Biting | Teasing | Blood (Obviously) | Oral Female Receiving | Penetration | Jimin Actually Being A Sweetheart | Mentions Of Death | Jimin Using The Nickname Sweetheart An Ungodly Amount Of Times |
A/N: It’s been so long since I’ve posted one of my works, yikes! I am so sorry for the wait on this! I have been working on this one for months, fitting it in in-between work and moving to a new house. I really am proud of this one. Also, this is my first attempt at writing smut. Anywho, I won’t keep you any longer!
Read Part Two: Here
Your head flew back in laughter as you exited, throwing the front door of the pub you had been visiting wide open. A loud bang being heard as the connection the door made to the wall echoed into the night, being mixed with the sound of your laughter and the conversation your friends were having next to you.
You stumbled a little as you lost your balance on the last step. You mentally blamed the heels you’ve been wearing and the uneven ground you had stepped onto. You held both your hands out to the side catching your balance before another wave of laughter came from the group.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Asked Ryder, his eyes finding yours as he scanned your body looking for any signs that you were in fact not okay. His hands wrapped around the woman next to him keeping her close to him.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” You reassured, waving your hand dismissively. They had continuously been worried since you had told them that you were going to walk home. Your house being only streets away, you didn’t want to risk being pulled over. You would rather have to track back the next morning. But you understood their concern. It was late and they were more active at night.
You reassured them again and this time they believed you more or less. You waited until you saw both of them get into the car to turn your back and start down the sidewalk in the direction of your destination. The only thing breaking the silence of the night being the clacking of your heels against the pavement below and the few cars passing on distant roads.
You felt the sting of your buzz waring off as the cool night breeze hit your exposed skin. You silently cursed at yourself for not thinking ahead when you picked out the dress you were wearing. A sigh escaped your lips as you wrapped your jacket around you tighter hoping the warmth would travel to your legs though it was highly unlikely.
You passed by buildings, many you knew, but in the shadow of night they all looked strangely the same. Each having its own cast of black on them, leaving the already tan buildings looking even muddier.
It wasn’t long until you saw the small park on the opposite side of the road. It was a good indication on telling you how much longer your walk was going to be. It wasn’t the first time walking this route, though it was the first time walking it in the dead of night.
You felt a shiver run through your body and you stopped in your tracks. With the sound of your heels silenced, the night grew increasingly quieter. Your hands itched to grab your phone which was laying somewhere within the bag you had slung over your arm, but you had no real reason to grab it. You saw and heard nothing; it was just your gut.
You looked around, eyes trying to find anything that could have caused your movements to cease. You then peered into the park wondering if it had been the cause but there was nothing. You sighed, bringing your gaze back to your cold legs and maneuvered your coat around you again shivering.
“Looking for something?” A voice said, causing your head to shoot up and lock eyes with a man who now found himself standing in front of you. Your heart rate skyrocketed when you heard him laugh, his laugh sounded just too amused at your reaction. He hummed, “Cat got your tongue?”
The man stared at you, a good six feet away. He wore black head to toe. The only color on him was the ash grey of his hair and the pink of his lips. One side of his hair was slicked back accentuating his sharp jaw line and exposing a pierced ear, the other side hung almost too carelessly into his face.
Only a fool would tell you the man standing before you wasn’t attractive. Normally, if a man like this were to seek you out you would be welcoming, but the way his eyes reflected the streetlights in catlike glow and how he watched your every movement like you were prey had you think differently.
You took a hesitant step backwards, “I wasn’t looking for anything.”
He clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth in a disapproving way as he shook his head at you, “Wow, we only just met and you’re already lying to me.”
His voice was silky smooth and almost too sickeningly sweet. Every word that dropped from his lips seemed to be produced just to antagonize you. He seemed to be feeding off your uncomfortableness as you watched the corner of his plump lips turn upwards ever so slightly.
“Why do you assume I’m lying?” You ask, you watch as his head turned to the side ever so slightly. His eyes caught the light of the streetlamp once again, causing a haze to go over them as they reflected it back into the night. You swallowed a tad harder than you would have liked at the sight.
“Oh, I’m not assuming anything,” He hummed, his eyes wandering back up your body until he met your eyes again, “When humans lie, their heartrates spike. Yours did.”
Every fiber of your being wanted to run but the logical side of you realized that it would be practically useless. He was much faster and far stronger than you. All you were doing was dragging out the inevitable.
You took another step back trying to form more distance between you and the thing in front of you. Your eyes then gazed to your left, finding a dead-end alleyway. Your eyes were gone for only a second but when you looked back, he was inches from your face.
Your breath hitched. You wanted to scream but no words came out of your mouth. You could hear your own beating heart, which meant he definitely could. As he licked his lips as close to you as he was, you couldn’t help but hate yourself for not driving yourself home.
“Where are you going sweetheart?” He hummed enjoyment oozing from it, “Because if you’re trying to leave, well, we just can’t have that can we?”
With those words, your whole world dissolved for a split second until your back collided with a brick wall. You groaned out in pain, trying to catch your breath from having all the air knocked out of you. When you opened them again, you realized you were pinned against one of the walls within the alley.
The unknown man in front of you looking down at you. He licked his lips as a smirked pulled at the corner of his mouth. He chuckled at the sight of you gasping for air, “Ah, did I take your breath away? I have that effect on people.”
You took a deep breath, finally able to fill your lungs properly. You took a few more to steady yourself. His taunts echoed in your brain. You knew you were going to die, but you weren’t going to make it fun for him. You locked eyes with his predatory ones somehow finding the ability to smirk back, “Not all people.”
If you didn’t know better, you would have thought you saw his eyes widen at the statement. But, it wasn’t even for a second, so you chalked it up to you imagining things in your final moments. His grip tightened on you and you winced slightly at the increased pressure.
“Hm, didn’t I say lying wasn’t very nice,” He asked his voice much darker than before.
He leaned down and tucked his head in the crook of your neck. You felt the slight graze of his lips against your skin and to your dismay, sending goosebumps down your body. You felt him smirk against your skin as he let out a dark chuckle.
“If you’re going to do it, just do it.” You said, voice oddly steady for someone who was less than an inch from death.
You felt his hot breath against your skin as his whole body stiffened at your statement, hands grasping even tighter around you causing pain to emulate where his hands held you. You knew what you said had irked him in some way and you were waiting for him to just toss this charade and dig in.
“What are you doing?” A deep voice echoed into the alley.
You looked down to the entrance only seeing a silhouette of a man standing there. There was something about the way he held himself that made you uncomfortable even glancing at him. He was too relaxed for someone witnessing what he was.
The pretty boy inches from you groaned in annoyance as he slowly pulled his head from your neck, but his eyes never left where he had been focused, “You really had to show up at the good part didn’t you?”
“Well, if you didn’t play with your food you wouldn’t be having this problem.” The shadow responded, and his eyes left your neck to flick in his direction. The anger now being directed to a new target, but his body was still completely engaged with your own.
“Joonie, you know it’s no fun otherwise,” He whined like a kid who was caught eating candy before dinner, “Plus, they taste better when they’re messed with.”
The figure took a few steps into the alley, but it was enough for you to feel the grip on your arms loosen ever so slightly, “That’s enough Jimin, we don’t have time for you to be doing this. Let her go and let’s go before you get us in trouble. We were supposed to be there minutes ago.”
Jimin stared at the man for a minute, glaring at him with more intensity than he ever laid into you, “Fine, whatever you say. I wasn’t having much fun anyways.”
Then suddenly you felt his hands release you. Not expecting your full weight to hit you, you slid down the wall until you sat on the pavement. You looked up. Jimin broke his eye contact with the other and looked down at your position on the ground. He cocked his head to the side and bent down ever so slightly, eyes level with yours, “Don’t forget about me sweetheart, I will finish what I started.”
With that statement, he was gone and the dark figure with him. It was like he was never there with how fast they had gone but your battered and bruising body told you differently. Groaning, you pulled yourself off the ground slowly and made your way out of the alley. Each step made the ache of your back radiate, but each was a step closer to being home which was were you so desperately needed to be.
The week had gone on as normal with the fear from that night slowly fading along with the bruises on your body. At first, you were on edge, worried you would turn the corner and meet your untimely demise. Yet the longer you avoided meeting those dark eyes the less you felt like your whole world was going to crumble.
Everything seemed to continue as normal which fed into the decision not to divulge to the two of them what had actually happened that night on your way home. The first night, you were too shaken to even attempt to call them. Besides, it was too late by the time you hobbled home and had gotten into the bath to ease your aching. Then as time went on, it seemed like less of a bright idea to fill them in. It would only stir worry and you didn’t want to be the cause.
In hindsight, if you had confided in them then you may not have been dragged out to the bars yet again.
The bar was busier than normal which for the first time had bought you some comfort. The people mingling and drinking within the walls of the building in some odd, obscure way were a source of protection.
Predators don’t hunt the group; they isolate and then go in for the kill.
You stirred the ice of your empty drink around the glass watching as it danced around the edge until it found home back at the bottom. You debated refilling your drink since you barely felt the prickle of a buzz flow through your veins, but you were weary.
The bartender seemed to be busy wiping the empty section of the bar that finally cleared out. You felt a bit of relief for the poor girl seeing as she had been swamped not too much earlier. Seeing her running around frantically trying to fill each order as people called them to her was sort of pitiful to watch.
“Alone?” An eerily familiar voice sounded from behind you sending shivers down your spine. Surprisingly, you kept your breath steady and your eyes focused on the melting ice in your glass. In the corner of your eye you saw a figure pull the stool next to you out and take a seat but not before calling out to the bartender, “Doll, do me a favor and grab me an Old Fashioned and another of whatever she was drinking.”
You caught the way her gaze held onto his a little longer than it should and the way her ears turned a shade pinker than before. Another wave of pity for her washed over you because if she knew what he truly was, she wouldn’t fawn over him.
Out of curiosity, you glanced over at him. He looked the same as before, just as dangerously beautiful. He was dressed in clothes that seemed to fit him in all the right ways. The white button up he wore had the first few buttons undone but was tucked into a pair of black trousers. His fingers dazzled in a few rings, all silver as far as you could tell. But the most dangerous part was the way his lips held a small smirk as he watched the bartender work, as if she was his next meal.
Moments later, the bartender placed your new drink in front of you as she swapped it out for the empty one. With the now full drink within reach, you decide that having another wasn’t a necessarily bad thing considering the situation you now found yourself in. Plus, you weren’t the one to turn down a free drink.
So, you bring the glass to your lips and as you do you turn to meet the eyes that had haunted your thoughts for the past week. His own were already on you, just waiting for you to acknowledge him.
“I was wondering when I was going to see you again,” You smirk, taking another drink and breaking the intense eye contact. It was unknown where this burst of confidence was coming from, but you were just going to roll with it for the moment being.
“I’m sorry to keep you waiting, Sweetheart,” He voiced, a bit of annoyance laced with his flirtatious words, “Busy life.”
You rolled your eyes wondering exactly how busy the life of a nocturnal being such as himself could possibly have. You didn’t dwell too long on it though and washed the thoughts away with another sip of the alcohol in front of you. The drink washed into your taste buds but didn’t wash away the bad taste of the current situation.
“What brings you here?” You question.
You know the answer already. He wanted you to know he could find you. He wasn’t here for you, but to taunt you. The moment you heard his sweet spine-chilling voice traveling over the music of the bar you knew.
His fingers tapped the glass of his drink as a smirk formed on his face, “Can’t a man go out and mingle with others?”
“There’s no harm in that, as long as that’s all you’re doing,” You hum, watching his lips pull up slightly more at your offhand comment. His eyes seemed to flicker with a light from your words making your stomach feel uneasy.
“For now,” He responded, “I haven’t gotten bored yet. I like playing with my options before I commit to anything else. It makes the rest so much more awarding.”
The hand that had been playing with his drink suddenly tightened around it and he brought it to his lips. If anyone heard the conversation, it might be mistaken for two friends talking about ones future escapades, but between the lines held maliciousness that made your breath falter even if it was only for a second. What scared you the most was how drawn your eyes were to his lips and the way the liquid ran down his throat.
Smirk held the corners of his mouth still as he stood from the stool, taking his drink with him. Just when he moved out of sight you felt a presence linger over your shoulder. Your breath hitched in your throat when you felt his breath against your neck, and much like before, the hairs on your body stood as goosebumps formed.
He chuckled softly but his closeness made it seem so much louder, “It was great to see you again Sweetheart. I’ll see you soon.”
With that, he pulled away. You didn’t look but you assumed he disappeared back into the crowd of the establishment, with the empty stool next to you being an unsolidified confirmation of that. You let a breath out you didn’t realize you were holding onto.
Finding your phone within the pocket of your jacket that was hanging on your chair, you dialed a cab. Your body was demanding you run and find shelter within the walls of our own home and the shakiness of your hands typing the number in showed it. You absentmindedly told the cab where to find you as you scanned the pub for the few you came with and hoped not to see the one you want to avoid amongst it.
Defeated, you grabbed your things and walked towards the door. Just as you were about to exit your eyes landed on the familiar image of your drunken friend. You veered from path just slightly to fill her in on you leaving.
A frown formed on her face at the news, “Do you have to? I barely have gotten to see you tonight.”
The grasp of her hands found the loose fabric of your jacket and you were unsure if it was a sad attempt to keep you to stay or an attempt to keep her balance. A sad smile found your face as you looked at your friend.
“I do Nari, but we can do lunch sometime this week, okay?” You offered but her pouting persisted.
“Okay,” She mumbled, and her grasp on your jacket let go.
You returned to the door and opened it. You looked down both ways of the walkway making sure that they were empty before taking a step into the outside world. You wrapped your arms around you to keep you warm and to somehow soothe your nerves.
When your eyes landed on the cab you sighed in relief before running up to it and hopping in. You watched him drive a few blocks down and your eyes land on the alleyway from before. The ride might realistically be a waste of money, but with events from the night fresh in your mind and the previous ones nudging close to the surface, the ride might very well be your lifesaver.
The office was quiet, the only thing filling the silence was the clicking of the keys of your keyboard as you finished the last of your reports that were due by Monday. You had watched everyone disperse as the day went about as they finished their own work, but you had figured it was going to be a late one when your supervisor added more work on your plate.
You sighed, printing the last report out and grabbing it from the printer next to you. You collected the lot of them before opening the filing desk next to you and placing them carefully within to turn in. A glance over your shoulder confirmed that the sun had indeed disappeared to let the moon reign which pulled at your nerves.
Collecting your stuff and throwing on your jacket you proceeded to the elevator and clicked the button to the ground floor. It took a few moments to reach the bottom and the doors to open. Soon you were scanning your card to leave the building so you could head to your car.
You fumbled with your keys trying to find the one to unlock the door to your car when you felt a chill go down your spine. You stopped your movements, “Told you I’d see you soon.”
You hadn’t even had the chance to register whose voice it was before you were spun on the spot at an unrealistic speed and pinned roughly against your car. You opened your eyes to a pair of deep brown eyes less than an inch from your face. You could feel his breath tickle your nose.
“I see you did your research,” You said, not breaking eye contact.
The corners of his plump lips turned upward, “I’m thorough.”
“Why don’t you just do it already?” You asked, and his lips faltered momentarily at your words. His eyes didn’t leave your own as one of his hands moved from the car and moved your hair from your shoulder.
He dipped his head down. You felt his breath against your neck, and you closed your eyes. Not only because this moment had been building up for the past month or so with his random visits but also because it had been a moment since you have had a man even this close to you. When you felt the graze of his teeth against you a shiver ran down your spine knowing this was probably your last moments.
He bit into you causing a fire to emerge where he had bitten. You could literally feel the blood being pulled from your body and into his which by all accounts was a feeling you never wanted to experience. It was inhuman, much like the man in front of you. Despite all the facts and the pain, to your dismay, a moan left your lips.
He paused his movements for a moment, before pulling himself away from your neck. He looked at you with his pupils blown wide open and his bloodstained lips, “Are you actually enjoying this?”
“It hurts, why would I enjoy it?” You mumbled, surprised and embarrassed by him suddenly stopping his preying on you.
“No,” He breathed, “I know how the body reacts to fear and adrenaline. I thrive off the taste of it. This is different. You’re turned on by this aren’t you?”
You felt your face become hotter at his humorous tone and the idea of being called out so bluntly. Annoyed you let out a breath, “You talk a lot for someone who is in the middle of trying to kill me.”
“I’ve been alive for many years sweetheart,” He said, eyes scanning the area before landing back on you, “This is the first time anyone has reacted the way you just did. If it makes you feel better, I enjoyed it too and I probably hate the idea more than you do.”
You laughed, “Yeah, sure, you hate it.”
“Do you think I like that I found a way to make the taste of blood taste better than adrenaline does? Because your reaction isn’t very normal, hate to break it to you.” ,
You looked at him. His eyes were blown with desire to continue and how they continued to flick to where he had just had his teeth sunk into you. You hadn’t tried to escape because with his heightened abilities, it was useless. With this newfound knowledge, an opportunity had offered itself up to you.
“Then don’t kill me,” You respond as if it was the easiest answer to come up with, “Keep me alive and feed off me. I’m sure I’m the only person insane enough to like being bit into by your kind. Who knew I had a pain kink?”
“My own personal blood bank, huh?” He let out a chuckle, it being mixed with amusement and disbelief. He could say no and move on, but there was no fun in that. He licked hisis lips, tasting the remains of your blood that was left on them, “I didn’t know you were that desperate to get me in bed.”
“Bite me,” You seethed at him, regretting your choice of words after they escaped your lips.
He smirked, “I planned on it.”
He then leaned down and sunk his canines back within your neck, and you gasped at the feeling beginning to burn and spread from the point of puncture to the rest of your body. You began to feel lightheaded and you reached for something to keep you on your feet. With the awkward position the two of you were in, the only place you were able to grab was his head that was tucked within the crook of your neck. You grasped onto the base of his neck and the hairs that resided there. He hummed deeply at the contact. Despite being barely able to hold yourself up, you wondered how long it had been since he had interaction with another being that wasn’t clawing to get away.
It seemed like an eternity before he unclasped himself from you, and even that was a surprise since he never verbally agreed to your deal. Your weight shifted and you lost hold of him, falling against the car a little roughly. You were barely able to stand with how much blood you had drained from you.
“I’d take a taxi home if I were you,” He hummed, looking down on your weak figure. He was right, you couldn’t drive. Honestly, you could sleep right where you stood. Just when you were about to respond, he was gone.
You sighed as you found your phone and called a taxi. Then when it arrived and the man saw your car, you lied and told him your car had refused to start and you were just worked to death. It worked hauntingly well. Then when you finally got home, you barely had the energy to open your apartment door and climb into bed, ignoring the fact you were still in your work clothes.
The night you had dragged yourself home you ended up sleeping for hours and were glad that you didn’t have to show your face at the office the next morning. After doing the math, you had been unconscious for fifteen hours, waking late afternoon the next day. It didn’t surprise you that you slept too much. He took a lot from you, more than he probably should have.
Nari had been the one to stir you from your slumber that afternoon with her frantic knocking on your apartment door. You somehow had found the energy within your weakened body to trudge your way to the door and answer just to be met with her asking many questions. You grudgingly answered every single one, twisting the truth here and there, reassuring her you just had gotten in late.
And time continued to pass.
Jimin would randomly show up when his hunger spiked and needed to be filled. He would just appear next to you or show up at the same place you were at and you would just know. At some point, you had to make up another white lie about him being a friend to sooth your friend’s thoughts of you two being something more than that. They didn’t need to know that you were less than that, not more than a walking juice box for the man in question.
He had grown to know when to stop his feeding, to know when enough is enough. You appreciated not being sent into a deep sleep for hours to recover from rapid blood loss. It was small, but it made you realize that he might actually appreciate the deal the two of you made.
Even more so, your fear of the night and of him diminished the more he sunk his teeth into your skin. He seemed to crave the rush you felt when he pierced your skin, feeling off whatever chemical changes your body made within itself. The way he responded, you assumed the spike in blood pressure and the physical closeness had something to do with it as well though you would never ask him.
Your mind was plagued with the thoughts of him and recent events, you couldn’t even focus on the book you had in front of you or the taste of coffee sitting on the café table next to you. Shaking your head, you dove back into the novel until you heard someone slid into the opposite side of the booth.
You looked up, meeting the brown eyes of Jimin. He was dressed in a white shirt, tie hung around his neck obviously loosened by his own hands. His silver hair pushed back out of his face on both sides, almost prince-like, a new look for someone who wore the disheveled hair quite well. His hands still adorned with rings, though less extensive than his usual. They tapped along the cup of coffee within his grasp. You couldn’t see what he wore on his lower half, but you assumed it would be a nice pair of slacks and shoes to match his upper half.
“What are you doing here?” You ask, tearing your eyes away from him and back on the book you had in your grasp, finding it even harder to concentrate now that your mental distraction was now sitting in front of you. You hadn’t seen him outside the safety of the shadows, surprised to see him look so human amongst the light of day.
“Lunch break,” He hummed, taking his coffee within his lips taking a sip, “Usually I use it to do important things since I don’t eat, but Joonie is gone on a trip with the others and I’m bored.”
A smile tugged at the edge of your lips at his tone, reminding you of the first night you met him and how he whined like he had just lost his chance at the ice cream truck. The tone now, similar, like a spoiled child bored with life.
“I was meaning out in the daylight,” You responded, giving up on reading your book and closing it, “But thanks for letting me know there’s more of you nearby. Remind me to watch my back again.”
“Oh honey, there’s more than just us that lurk the night,” A laugh escaped his lips at your widened eyes and paled expression, “And the answer to your question, sweetheart, I’m on my lunch break as I said before. We don’t burn in the sun, it’s just easier to find easy prey when its dark.”
You always had an idea that it was possible that they could walk amongst others. You lived life before this that the nocturnal predators known as vampires roamed, though you never truly felt the fear you should have never having seen one in person. Once you did, you reevaluated what they were because he was so human looking. If he didn’t try to kill you and you didn’t see the predatory cat-like look in his eyes that night, you wouldn’t have batted an eye. He would have just been a handsome man walking home at night much like you had been.
“Make you think whether people are who they say they are, doesn’t it?” He chimed in bringing you out of your thoughts. He was right. Anyone could be one, and you never would have questioned it until now.
You took a drink of your coffee and nodded your head, “I’m just reevaluating my whole life. It’s fine.”
The corners of his mouth turned upward as he shook his head, sliding out from the booth. He checked the watch on his wrist before quickly downing the last of his caffeine, “I have to head back. I’ll be seeing you later.”
You met his eyes, shivering at how they darkened the longer he looked at you. You pressed your legs together under his watch, hating yourself for letting yourself get pavloved into excitement at the sight of his hungered stare. He wet his lips before tearing his gaze away from you.
“See you,” You responded quietly, knowing he could hear your response and your raised heart rate even as he walked away from you tightening his tie. The door of the café dinged signaling his departure, and you attempted to read once again.
It had been over two weeks since you had seen Jimin. Naturally, you thought you would have been relieved that you didn’t have to lend yourself to his never-ending hunger, but instead you found yourself worrying. He had gone days without needing you, which aided your ability to heal, but he never had gone weeks. You wondered if he found someone else to feed off of or even had gotten himself killed.
You cursed under your breath at yourself as you peered out your apartment window into the night. The streets below lit with streetlights that seem so minuscule compared to the height of the building. You wrapped your arms around yourself and withdrew from the large window before walking back to the couch. You pulled your legs to your chest in comfort.
That’s when you heard the knocking.
You glanced at the clock on the wall noting that it was late, around two in the morning. Confused, you stood and walked closer to the door. The knocking continued, becoming more and more frantic. You peered out the peephole, jaw dropping before unlocking the door quickly.
Jimin stood there, hand raised in a fist again to knock.
He looked terrible, which was never the word you would ever use to describe him. Adorned in all black, he shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably. His hair disheveled, far from his styled hair that was purposely messy. He looked pale, but not the pale you were used to. He lacked color and was more of a grey tone. His eyes sunken in and irises dark, no hint of the brown within them. It was like death was close to snatching him up despite his immortality.
“Where have you been?” You asked, “And how do you know where I live?”
He shifted on his feet, pulling his arms around him as if he were trying to keep whatever warmth he had left within him. It reminded you of an addict looking for a fix, withdrawals in overdrive. He was hungry, and dangerously so.
“It doesn’t matter, let me in.” He demanded, eyes meeting yours and for the first time he looked weak. You opened the door feeling bad for him. He just stood there, staring at the open pathway into the apartment but never moving, “You have to invite me in, you idiot.”
Surprised by the lack of your usual nickname you raised your hands in defense before responding, “Come in.”
With those words, he sprang into action and entered into your living space. He hands grasped your waist as he kicked your door closed behind him. Then in a matter of seconds you watched the world dissolve around you in a mix of blurs and then you were in your bedroom being thrown onto your own bed roughly. He then was on top of you and pushing your hair to the side before sinking his teeth into his favorite place to feed; your neck.
A gasp escaped your mouth at the now familiar burn that sped through your body paired with the rough nature he had been treating you with ignited a fire within yourself, both coinciding with each other. You heard him groan into your neck before detaching himself. His pigment still an ashy grey but his sunken eyes looking more alive.
“I want more,” He said, eyes still black with hunger, “I want to feel you squirm under me in pleasure while I feed on you.”
You felt the fire continue to burn through you, finding yourself pressing your thighs together at his words. He licked his lips as he watched your reaction to him. You tried your hardest to keep yourself together, but you questioned why you tried when he could hear how fast your heart was beating and see how flushed your face had become.
Only a fool wouldn’t see how dangerously attractive he was and you yourself weren’t immune to his good looks, so much so that you were now risking your life for his touch.
His dark eyes broke from yours as he moved to remove your clothes. He tugged your shirt over your head, tossing it aside with inhuman speed. He was still so undeniably hungry, but he was determined to make this feed the best he had ever had, so he took his time trailing his lips down your body until he found himself right above your breast. He bit down causing another gasp to escape your mouth, hands instinctively finding their way within his hair.
You hated how vulnerable you were to his touch. You weren’t talking about how he could easily snap your neck or be thrown across the room with a simple push, no, it was how hands gliding down your body as they pulled your pants off causing goosebumps to erupt on your skin or how the warmth of his breath kept drawing closer to your center after he detached from you yet again.
Once between your legs he paused and looked at the mess that you were as a smirk pulled onto his face, “You look a little desperate sweetheart. It doesn’t suit you.”
“Says the one who begged to be let into my house,” You breathed out, bucking your hips upward unconsciously as his grip tightened around your thighs, “Should I test what will happen if I rescind the invite?”
He let out a dry laugh, “You wouldn’t because you couldn’t make yourself feel as good as I could.”
“Then eat me,” You demanded, feeling his breath so close making you impatient and irritable.
His eyes widen at your words, pupils dilating more than they already had from the hunger residing within his body, mouth falling slightly agasp from your confidence. A smirk replaced his face as he stared at you,
“If you insist,” He replied, digging his fangs into the flesh of your thigh.
It wasn’t what you were referring but it wasn’t the first time he took your words into a different direction than you initially intended. You hummed at the familiar feeling, hands finding home with clutching the cotton sheets instead of his hair. He laughed as he disconnected yet again, taking the fabric of your panties within his two index fingers, and pulling them off expertly only to have them join the rest of your clothing on the floor.
Exposed you were, causing your pulse to quicken. His hands gripped your thighs and kept them apart despite your attempts to hide, though you knew his strength outweighed yours tenfold. He grinned before dipping his head between your legs and licking a stripe up from your entrance to your clit causing a moan to escape your lips.
He went to work, and you could tell that he had been alive longer than he looked like he had. You could tell by the way his tongue knew exactly where and how fast it needed to go to cause your back to arch and your toes to curl. The build up to your own demise growing with each passing second he stayed attached to you.
He added his fingers making you sigh in relief at the new feeling before you ultimately groaned at the presence of his mouth disappearing, “There you are sounding desperate again.”
Before you could respond his teeth sunk into your other thigh as he continued his rapid movements of his fingers. The feelings of him taking his fill from you and your building orgasm mixed together, sending you over the edge, grasping onto his hair for something solid to ground you amidst your ride. His name fumbling out of your mouth as a mantra.
Once back to earth, your vision focused on the man still between your legs. He had detached himself from your leg and was just staring at you with his bloodstained lips, which normally you would have found uncomfortable, but the feeling never came.
“What are you still doing dressed?” You asked, eyeing him still in his black attire.
He rolled his eyes and pushed himself off the bed. He took the back of the collar of his shirt within his grasps, pulling it over his head to expose his toned back to you. You licked your lips to the sight of it. He turned around; the front being just as pleasing to look at.
Your eyes then followed his hands as they undid his belt and unbuttoned his pants, letting them fall down around his ankles. You gulped when you saw the pristine outline of his member within his boxers. And soon, those were gone too exposing him to you completely. He then proceeded to climb back on top of you.
You noticed that he had started to look like himself again, his pale complexion gaining back just that twinge of pink he had been missing before and his face gaining life back to it as well. His movements had become less urgent and more thought through which rested easy with your subconscious.
“That was probably the best thing I’ve experienced in a long time,” He hummed, dipping his head by your ear, “How about we do it again?”
A shiver ran down your body at his words causing a dark chuckle to be released into the otherwise silent room. You felt him adjust himself in between you and a sigh escaped your lips when you felt him enter you, filling you up.
He groaned in response to being surrounded by your inner walls, which was music to your ears. He had been well in control of himself the whole time, not once letting it slip that he had been enjoying himself. Yet that small sound confirmed that this was just as good for him as for you.
His movements quickened, both the slapping of skin against skin and the moans of the two of you filling the room. His lips kissed down your neck as he held both of your arms above you, slamming into you with thrusts you’venly imagined in your dirtiest dreams.
Just when you thought the build up of your first orgasm took you by surprise, this one came faster and much harder. Just as your high was about to hit, Jimin clamped onto your neck and rode your high with you as he continued to plow into you. You felt bad for your neighbors knowing full well they could hear your moans through the walls.
His head unburied when you grounded, planting a soft kiss where he had just bit. His movements sloppier than before. After a few more unorganized thrusts, he moaned into your neck. His weight followed not much far behind finding the ability to hold himself up much harder after his own release.
Despite him being much heavier, you couldn’t muster the strength to push him off you after experiencing two of your own releases and a good amount of blood loss. He pushed himself off instead, only enough to roll over onto the unoccupied space next to you.
Jimin knew you would pass out in mere minutes with the amount he had taken from you and the amount of energy you had spent and normally he would have left. Yet he found it hard to leave when your sleeping figure wrapped itself around one of his arms and you still allowed him to stay within your home despite what he had just done. You were another breed of human. One that started to make him wonder.
The next morning came and the sun poking through the window had woken you. You rolled out of your empty bed remembering what had happened the night before by your naked body and the bruises and healing wounds from his feast. You hummed, a small smile entering your features as you moved to find a large shirt the throw over to go make yourself some coffee before showering away last night’s endeavors.
What you didn’t expect was Jimin to be standing by your window, looking down at the streets below. He turned his head to the side signaling he did hear your silent entrance into the living area. Instead of engaging with him, you walked to the coffee pot and put on some coffee. Once done, you poured yourself a cup.
“Do you want some?” You asked him, already pouring him a cup despite what answer he gave you.
“Sure,” He responded barely audible from the other side of the complex. You bought the already filled coffee cup to him, handing it off before walking to the couch. You proceeded to pull your legs to your chest and take a sip of the brew.
“So,” You voiced after a moment, “Where were you?”
You watched as his back tensed at the question, but he didn’t turn around, “Didn’t know I had to explain myself to you now.”
“You don’t, it’s just-“ You paused, trying to find the right words without coming off too real, too close to the truth, but you sighed knowing you couldn’t sugar coat it, “You disappeared for weeks and when you show up at my door you look inches from death. Did you even eat while you were away?”
“No,” He grumbled, eyes still focused out the window, “I didn’t have time nor the patience to chase someone down.”
It astounded you that you could have this conversation about his hunting out loud leaving you completely unbothered. You wondered if it was because you had grown numb to the way he spoke about humans or if you were just subconsciously relieved that it wasn’t you being chased down a dark alleyway moments from death.
Silence fell between the both of you after he answered. To distract yourself, you pulled the mug to your lips with shaky hands to take another drink before tearing your eyes away from his back. You wondered why he was still here after the night before. He wasn’t the kind of person to stay and not once had he done it before, though the two of you never went that far until then. You doubted the added act had him switching his whole personality. He despised humans and how weak and helpless they truly were.
Honestly, you could see how that opinion could be formed. You knew a few people who you pitied for their lack of one thing or another. His opinion was one of someone who had been where you were at one point and then been introduced to all this power.
You hummed quietly as you thought about the question on the tip of your tongue, “What were you like as a human?”
You watched as his whole body tensed at your inquiry. You wondered if maybe the question dug too deep. You would have been terrified a few months ago to pry but the fear faded. The worst he could do was kill you and you already accepted your fate with that from the beginning even if you gained more time.
He sighed, turning, and leaning against the giant glass window he had been looking through, “I was stupid and ignorant, like most men in their twenties.”
“I guess that wouldn’t change,” You mused, a small smile finding your face, “Past or present, youth brings stupidity. The blame doesn’t just fall on men.”
He pushed himself off the window and walked forward towards you on the couch. He gently set his empty coffee cup onto the table in front of the couch. He then proceeded to lean down until you could feel his breath by your ear, “You would know, wouldn’t you?”
He then stood up and walked towards the front door, opening it and disappearing once the door closed behind him. You fanned your face with your hand trying to wave away the remains of the image of him so close to you and the feeling of his breath on your skin.
He was right, you would know.
You sighed, coming down from the high you had just ridden out. Jimin crawled his way back up the pillows from between your legs, plopping himself next to you. His lips stained with your blood from him drinking from your thighs yet again, an act you barely even took notice to anymore. He licked them, taking up whatever was left on them.
When you let him in the first night you didn’t expect the sex to continue, but it did. You peered over at him from your side of the bed, making eye contact with him and his smug look.
“Enjoying yourself?” You prodded, sending him one of your own smirks.
“You have no idea,” He responded, his lips turned up slightly but not in his usual arrogant smirk. It contrasted with the blood still on his face.
“Enlighten me,” You said, turning on your side and looking at him. He wore a look on his face, one that seemed conflicted. His brows were furrowed together in thought, “I mean, if it bothers you to do so you don’t have to.”
He sighed and turned his body to the side, propping his weight up on his arm so he could also look at you in return, “I never allow myself to enjoy things.”
There was a tone in his voice that asked you not to pry more and you listened to it. Instead, you nodded your head and relaxed down in your pillow. After a moment, you began laughing. He turned to your eyes searching for the reason behind the outburst.
“Yeah, you probably really needed to get properly laid. You had a stick up your ass when I first met you.” You said between laughs.
For the first time since you had met him, Jimin truly laughed. It wasn’t like his usual condescending chuckles or soft snickers; it was a true belly laugh. It caused his eyes to crinkle and a real smile to spread across his lips.
He was a beautiful creature; you were aware of that the first time you met him in the dark that night by the alleyway. It was like he had been sculpted by gods and it could have everything to do with him being what he was. Yet, him sitting next to you smiling was possibly one of the most beautiful sights you could have ever seen.
He sighed, coming down from his laughing, “Yeah, you’re right. Probably what I needed.”
Honestly, it was probably what you needed too. You had been in this routine of going to work and going home, sometimes throwing a night out in here and there. You were stuck and unhappy but were too comfortable to switch it up in any way.
Then he came out of nowhere and disrupted your life without any regard. He put you in constant fear before you openly invited that fear further into it. Despite all of that, you actually thanked him for the disruption because you were so much happier now.
As time went by, him staying with you had become more frequent. He had begun to feed more often on you but less had been taken in turn making you feel much better and easier to heal from. That could have been the reason for his visits, but you began to wonder if the meal was all he was getting out of it. You couldn’t help but second guess the nights stayed or the gentle touches that didn’t have to come with the sex or the feedings. The soft looks he sometimes had gotten caught giving you also giving you reasons to ponder.
But you had no reason to think that he would think of you as anything other than an asset he could tap into whenever he needed. Everything he did could have been done to benefit him, and that’s what you told yourself.
Even when he laid next to you with tired eyes and a genuine smile on his face, you told yourself that, because if you told yourself anything different you would just end up hurting yourself. You two were from two different worlds and it had to stay like that.
The moon had risen over the sky, the only disturbance being the distant noise of traffic from the main area of the city. Two figures flew through the night. If seen by mortal eyes the two figures would have been chalked up to thinking they had seen something, but what, unsure because the speed at which they moved was far too fast.
A couple people were chosen to go out and scout the surrounding areas to make sure there were no other clans invading their territory and once again Jimin had been chosen along side another one of his companions. They had finished their check and were heading back to where the head of the clan lived and operated from.
Jimin had gone days without feeding yet again. Although he had opportunities to feed thrown at him multiple times on the trip, whether it be women who found his appearance too attractive to resist or a drunk girl walking home from a bar. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to do it when he knew he had you waiting back there for him.
The thoughts of you invading his mind more the closer they traveled to your home. Though he wouldn’t admit it out loud he didn’t just like feeding on you, though it was a plus, but he enjoyed your company. He had grown to like the way you tried to make light of situations that otherwise would be too awkward to handle, and he liked the way you never once openly showed you were scared of him. Even when he knew you were, your heartbeat always gave you away, you wouldn’t act like it.
Now? He could barely tell if he scared you at all anymore.
Human interaction had been lost on him for decades now. He swore his humanity away when he was found bloody and inches from death on the streets from a robbery gone wrong. He sworn it away when he was turned and showed how much power he had been missing out on. When he realized how weak humans were. Not all vampires become what he had, granted most try to stay as human as they can, but he had refused.
Then there was you. The epitome of humanity. You were fragile and the loss of blood could kill you. You had all these dreams and goals. You had friends you went out of your way to see because you felt like it. You had a moral sense of what is right and wrong. All of those things become lost when you live for eternity.
You made him yearn to feel the human side of himself again. It was a thing that excited him and scared him all the same. But the feeling made him seek you out and spend as much time as he could with you even though he shouldn’t.
Oddly, you made his cold undead heart want to feel again. He felt for you.
Suddenly, he stopped his running at a smell that hit his senses. His eyes widened because he knew that smell. He had been soaking in the smell of it for months, feeding off it.
His companion on the trip stopped as well, noticing his disappearance from behind him. His eyes narrowed at the sight of his friend standing there wide eyed and confused. The other man wasn’t oblivious to the smell of blood within the air.
“Joon, I have to go.” Jimin said, “You go and update them. Tell them I’ll be with you guys soon, but I have to go.”
Namjoon nodded his head curtly at Jimin’s request before taking off toward the manor. Jimin’s eyes narrowed letting his petitory instincts take over. He hissed, fangs on display before following the stench of blood in the air.
With his speed you would think he would find the source within minutes, and maybe he did, but it felt like an eternity. It engulfed his senses and it was all he could think about. He couldn’t let himself think of anything else. So, when he turned down an alleyway and the smell was overbearing, his heart dropped.
He found you laying limp in the middle of the alley. He hissed at the sight, too angry to even fathom a human like response. You were laying in a puddle of your own blood from what appeared to be multiple stab wounds. Your heartbeat slowed and breathing so shallow it was even hard for himself to see.
Gasping for air, you turned your head toward him. Fear etched into your face as you had come to realize that you were going to die. Even more so, Jimin knew you were going to die. He had seen death by his hands too many times, but yours was one he had grown to hate the thought of.
He bent down willing his instincts to get back under control. If it were up to his instincts, he would be hunting whatever human did this to you. That was a prime example on why the human race was vile. Vampires may kill for food, but humans did it just for fun.
He then looked you in the eyes, “Sweetheart, I’m going to help you. Hold on, alright?”
After he said what he said, you lost consciousness. He cursed under his breath knowing damn well how close to death that meant you were. He lifted you up off the dirty ground and used his speed to take you to the only place he knew to go to.
It took a few minutes to reach the manor, a few minutes you couldn’t have spared anywhere else. He then barged through the door. The others looked up from what they were doing to see the intruder. Jimin gave no care to the hissing of few as he rushed to the long dining table they did their meetings and set your unconscious body down on the table.
“Jimin what the fu-“ He heard the familiar voice of Namjoon appear beside him, “Oh no.”
“Did you bring us a treat Minnie?” The voice of one of the younger of them, Taehyung, chimed in.
Jimin whirled around and bared his fangs at him, hissing as a warning. His eyes not leaving contact, afraid if he did the man would go around and feast on what was left of you, and there wasn’t much left to take. The other’s hands flew up in surrender frightened by the way his superior was acting.
“Taehyung go take Jungkook away from here. I’m afraid he’ll lose his control,” Namjoon told him, eyeing the newest addition to the clan, “While you’re at it inform the other three of the situation we are in.”
Taehyung backed away and grabbed Jungkook, who was now staring at you bleeding out on the table, eyes glazed over. Taehyung rolled his eyes and pulled him away from the situation by his arm. Jimin waited until the other two were gone before lowering his defenses and turning back to you and your dying pulse.
“Namjoon,” Jimin said, dropping all nicknames, his voice serious, “I can’t loose her.”
“She’s practically already dead Jimin.” He sighed.
“Yeah, I’m aware.” He growled back, eyes not leaving your face. His jaw dropped at the realization before switching his focus on Namjoon, “I-I can still save her.”
The other’s eyes widened, “Jimin, you aren’t thinking rationally right now. You hated yourself for years. If you do this, it would be the most selfish thing you’ve ever done.”
Jimin let his words bounce off him as if they weren’t even spoken. He then brought his wrist to his mouth, sinking his teeth into his own flesh. When he pulled away, his blood began to seep out of the wound he had inflicted. He then bought it up to your mouth making sure every last drop made it within it.
It might have been selfish. He couldn’t even deny that it wasn’t. Yet as you were sitting there on that table inches from death he couldn’t bear the thought of not having you there with him, even if he couldn’t feed off you anymore. You had made it into his twisted mind and heart, and he wasn’t about to lose that.
“Jimin, you are a fucking idiot.” A deeper, lazier voice echoed in the room. Jimin’s head turned at the sound of it though he refused to look at him.
“Those aren’t very nice words Yoon,” A more cheerful voice scolded, and again Jimin chose to ignore the new voice.
“Now, now,” Another said causing a chill to run down his spine at the power his voice held, but his eyes were still glued on you, waiting, and hoping, “Explain to me why there is a dead girl laying on my dining table bleeding all over the finished wood and why the hell you think it’s okay to be calling the shots in my home.”
“Seokjin, Hoseok, Yoongi,” Jimin said, tearing his eyes away finally from your still body, “You guys do know why I can’t let you near her right?”
When he turned, he was met by the three highest ranked there were within the walls. Each were up there for their own reasons whether it be age or what they have done for the clan. Each staring at Jimin and you, evaluating the situation.
“You’d die if you tried to take us on,” Hoseok responded, eyeing the back of his nails ion disinterest.
“I’d die trying though,” Jimin growled.
The tense air was broken by the laugh of the eldest, “There’s no need for that.”
“Jin,” Yoongi attempted to interrupt but shut his own mouth once Jin glared in his direction.
“What I say goes,” Jin warned, before turning back to Jimin, “And what’s done is done. Besides, she’s stirring.”
Jimin’s eyes widened at his words and turned back around. You laid there, face contorted in pain as the blood flowed through you, changing you. Your wounds seemed to start to close in front of his eyes, though the paleness of your skin stuck with you.
He had never personally seen a change with his own eyes, new members popping up here and there but never once done in front of him. He could see now how he too was able to be saved from death many years prior by the man who still stood next to him, who did his job by warning the others but also kept them safe by removing the ones who were a threat.
Jimin’s patience was wearing thin as he hoped you would wake, so he could explain his selfish actions. He hoped you would forgive him for them, but, he knew there would be a good chance you wouldn’t. When you first met him, you were terrified and knew he was what most consider a monster. He did the same thing to you.
He went to reach out and touch you, to comfort, but just as he attempted you sprung upward into the sitting position with an uncomfortable scream, fangs drawn out as you had no control over yourself yet. Your eyes were an all too familiar dark color that came with an undeniable hunger yet to be quenched.
Once the screaming ceased, your eyes found his; confusion written on your face. He let go of the breath he didn’t know he was holding on to as your eyes met his.
“Jimin?
tag list (thank you babes for wanting to be notified): @jiminisnotavirgin, @ephemeralkookie, @bansheehunteremissary
A/N: Just something that I came up with. My first drabble series. All stories are true. Most are from personal experience, however I have a plethora of single friends.
Tagging: @bovaria @beccaanne814-blog @avengerofyourheart (If you don’t want to be tagged, please let me know, I don’t want to be a pain)
Warnings: Swearing (Which is usual from me)
Feedback is welcome!
Masterlist
Part 2
"I’m done. I'm through. Dating is for the birds!" I blurt as I burst through the doors into the common room. "No offense Sam" I mumbled as I looked at who was present.
"Come on Y/n!" He grumbled
That brought you out of your irritation and you chuckled and pressed a kiss to the top of his head, "you know I love you."
"But for the rest of the world. They can suck it." I continue on my rampage. “Here I stand, essentially homeless because I couldn’t stay another minutes in that apartment with Him.”
At this Sam scoffs, “You know you have a fully furnished room here with us.”
I ignore him and collapse into the overstuffed chair with a dramatic sigh "I am a strong woman, a career woman, I’m a nurse, hell, I work with the Avengers for God sakes. I am a goddamn catch!
Nat glances up from the magazine she is engrossed in, and raises a perfect eyebrow. "Bad day?"
I shoot her a glare and see her lips start to turn up into her signature smirk. My eyes roll "you have no idea. He's weird, and it's all falling into perspective. I can't believe that I stayed with him as long as I did!
She closed the magazine, never breaking eye contact. Her green eyes boring into me, "do tell. Y/n"
"He never took his shirt off." I blurt out.
That caught everyone's attention. "Never?" "What do you mean..." "...like. Never?" "I mean even when you?..
Flopping back with an exasperated sigh. "Never, and he always took so long to get ready."
"You aren't exactly Usain Bolt when it comes to getting ready, either." Bucky snorts out.
"Exactly, so if I'm saying he took forever, that should tell you something. He locks himself in the bathroom and won't unlock it for anything. Props on the reference tho Buck!" I notice his lips turn up slightly at my compliment and I feel a blush rising to my cheeks.
"So then if he was so weird, what was the breaking point today?" Steve questioned.
As I start talking, I think back:
Come on Mark! We are just going to the Grocery! I groan in frustration, leaning against the wall opposite the bathroom door. "I'll be ready when I'm ready, Y/n" he snaps. "Fine!" I retort.
I had already done the dishes and put a load of laundry in. I peruse my to-do list, deciding on vacuuming. After vacuuming the carpet and sweeping the hardwood, I hazard a glance at the clock. Forty-five minutes since Mark entered the bathroom and locked the door. At this point I could have been to the grocery and back.
Banging on the door "I'm just going to head out, I'll be back soon."
I hear a muffled "I'll be done soon"
Grumbling a "yea right" I head to the door. And then it hits me. I really should use the bathroom before heading out, since I have been waiting upwards of 45 minutes to even be ready to head out the door.
Heaving a sigh, I head back down the hallway. "Can I just use the bathroom for a sec, and then I'll leave and you can have it back?"
"God damn it Y/n I'm not done yet!" He yells through the door
"Well then what am I supposed to do? I have to pee!" I plead.
And nothing in my wildest imagination could have prepared me for his response: "Then just go in the sink."
"Oh my God!" "He actually said that?!" Sam and Steve exclaim at the same time, as they struggle to contain their mirth at the situation.
Bucky managed to hold out a hair longer before he let a laugh escape.
Nat was strangely quiet, which made me nervous.
She stood up and stormed out of the common room before we managed to catch up with her, muttering to herself in Russian, at the elevators.
"Nat what's going on?" I ask.
She spins on me so fast i take a step back in surprise. "Did he really say that?" She practically growls.
I sigh, "He did. But it's done."
"Well what did you do?" Sam questioned.
"I went to the Mercado on the first floor and asked to use their bathroom." I stated.
Nat narrowed her eyes "And that was it?"
"I mean no, he said that bathrooms were for paying customers only, which really cemented my decision. So now I have $20 worth of break up food." As the elevators dinged open, I glided in "And on that note, Netflix is calling my name."
The doors started sliding shut, "thanks for listening to my rant, you guys.”
At this, my eyes meet those of a certain super soldier, and I feel a blush rise to my cheeks.
The storm goes on for days. Pounding rain against the windows keeps Buck awake far later than he should be, considering his state. He blinks in the darkness and tries to find the sound therapeutic, but in truth, the incessant noise does nothing more than encourage the headache already festering behind his eyelids.
His phone chimes with a message on the bedside table. In the brief instant of light it provides, Buck welcomes the distraction.
Hen: Just wanted to check in and see how you're doing. Hope Nurse Eddie is taking good care of you :)
Buck laughs quietly and types out a reply.
pretty sure he passed out on the couch a while ago. mind if I call you?
Hen: Go for it.
The dial tone sounds twice before she picks up, sounding like she's already refraining from scolding him for not taking better care of his health.
"Hey there," she says. "What are you doing up so late?"
"I could ask you the same thing," he deflects, halfheartedly.
Hen hums. "That would be a fair question if one of us hadn't been hospitalized a few days ago. You're supposed to be resting."
Buck sighs. Touché.
"What's keeping you up?" she asks, more gently.
"Just...can't sleep. This stupid storm won't let up."
"Ah. Yeah, Karen and I are still hoping the basement won't flood this time. Pretty sure half of everything we owned grew mould last year," Hen jokes. Buck chuckles. After a moment of silence on the line, she prods him again. "Is that...the only thing bothering you?"
Buck hesitates.
It isn't, of course. But he had yet to figure out how to broach the subject in the flurry of activity that had suddenly surrounded him. Medics trying to keep him awake and doctors trying to keep him alive, his sister tearing up and fussing over him the second he opened his eyes, Bobby filling a Tupperware container with homemade soup and sending it with him when he was discharged. Eddie taking a right turn instead of a left on the way home from the hospital with a scoff, because, "You think I'm letting you go home alone?"
Everyone just seemed glad he was okay. Nobody had said much else. Buck hadn't asked.
But-
"Did you guys think I was dead?"
Hen is quiet for a second, thrown by his sudden frankness. Buck waits, his breath feeling strangely tight in his chest. "I mean, we hoped you weren't, but-" she sighs. "It looked pretty bad, Buck. Worse than the times before."
He hadn't really thought any less, but it shakes him a bit to hear her admit something more than the usual, "You gave us a real scare there, Buckaroo." Maybe because it actually makes it feel real. Makes the ache that lingers settle in deeper. He lays there, in bed in a house that isn't his but welcomes him as if he belongs in it all the same—where his face is in the pictures on the wall and his old t-shirts are in the washing machine and his best friend sleeps lightly in the living room, listening for any signs of pain so that he can help to ease it—and the the feeling becomes a reminder of everything he nearly lost.
"So then why-" He swallows, pushing away a sudden wave of emotion that he can't quite define. Grief? Anger? "Why would Bobby send Eddie up there after me? Wasn't there a- a better way to-?"
Hen cuts him off with a dry laugh. "No one sent him, Buck," she says. "He was up there before the rest of us could think to move."
Buck blinks.
"Well- why didn't anyone stop him? Come up with a better plan? I mean-"
"Do you really think we could've stopped him?" Hen asks.
Buck finds he doesn't actually know the answer.
In wake of his silence, she rephrases the question. "If the roles were reversed, would anyone have been able to stop you?"
Buck's head begins to spin. Because no, of course not. It wouldn't matter if the whole world was screaming at him to stop—if Eddie was the one hanging from the top of that ladder, Buck would do anything to bring him back down to earth. Just like he's done before. But that's because–
Well, it's because of a feeling that settled itself in his chest long before he was able to give it a name.
"Buck?" Hen's voice comes through the phone, but it sounds a bit farther away to him now. "You still there?"
"I-" he starts. Stops. His mind is running in circles and he can't quite catch up.
More softly, Hen asks, "Didn't you know he'd do the same?"
And-
"No," he breathes. "I don't think I did."
Yet suddenly it seems like it’s been there, in the photos and the laundry and there in the next room, on that couch, this whole time. In the arguments and the anger and the long, hard conversations, too. The big things and the small—he'd just never looked close enough to see it.
"Listen Hen, I think I'd better-"
"Yeah, you better.” He hears her smile through the phone. “Goodnight, Buck."
"Goodnight," he says. "And uh- thanks. For the talk."
"Anytime," she says, and hangs up.
On his slow but steady journey from the bedroom down the hallway, he follows the gently flickering light of the television and tries to figure out what, exactly, he plans to say in order to unravel his tangled mess of a brain and present it as something comprehensible. When he finds Eddie, however (not sleeping like he'd thought, but watching one of those made-for-TV romance movies that he's always claimed to hate) the first thing that comes out of his mouth is–
"You're an idiot."
Eddie turns to look at him, wide-eyed and startled and a little bit concerned. "Buck? What are you-?" He stands, blinking the sleepiness out of his eyes, and steps halfheartedly into the space between them, as if worried he might have to catch Buck if he spontaneously keels over in the doorway. "Is everything okay?"
"And a hypocrite too," Buck adds, disregarding the question.
Now, Eddie just looks confused. "Am I?"
"You're supposed to be the sensible one,” he says, pointing his finger in the way that his mother had always told him was bad manners. “You're supposed to stay on the ground and stay safe while I pull the stupid stunts. That's how it works. That's how it's always worked."
Confusion washes away, replaced by recognition. "Buck-"
"What were you thinking?" There's a distraught edge to his voice, he knows it, and knows Eddie hears it. Still, he makes no effort to hide it. He thinks there might not be much point to that anymore, anyway.
"Someone had to go and get you." Eddie shrugs, guarded. "I guess I was just the fastest."
"Eddie."
"Buck." He says, eyebrows raised.
"Why did you do it?"
"What, was I supposed to just leave you hanging up there?"
"Why did you do it, Eddie?" Buck repeats, and a layer of Eddie's expression slips away.
He shakes his head. "I don't really know what you want me to say."
"I would do the same for you. You know I'd do the same for you. I've done the same for you, more than once," he rambles, gaze fixed on Eddie's—searching, imploring. "And I know why I do it." He swallows the lump of apprehension in his throat. "It's the same reason every time, Eddie."
He watches as another layer slips; crack after crack in Eddie's façade. Realization dawns—Buck sees it the moment it happens. Something flutters in his chest as the expression spreads across Eddie's face.
"So I want to know why you did it," he says.
Eddie's gaze softens. Carefully, nervously, he offers the truth.
"Same reason as you, I think."
He smiles, a slight thing. Buck does too. And for that one, brief moment, before either of them says another word, the storm seems to quiet; the rain slows, ever so slightly, to give them some small amount of reprieve.
It doesn't last, of course. But once Buck breathes out a 'thank god' and finally closes the distance between them, he can't seem to find it in himself to care.
Um i wrote some early days lightrion angst but its a super short snippet so im just gonna put it here. orion gets way too in his own head about things and projects his insecurities onto his initial meeting and friendship with Lightray.
"It must have felt like taming a wild animal."
A confused pause, and then, "Not at all. It felt like making a friend."
Orion scowled and furrowed his considerable brow as Lightray searched his craggy face.
He wanted to stop. He wanted to rush over to Lightray and embrace him. He wanted desperately to tell him anything besides the words that were presently escaping his lips, but he was powerless to stop them.
"And was it so novel to befriend the beast that others fear? Did it earn you valor and praise?"
Lightray's face fell. "It pains me that you would think so little of me."
Hi hi hi! Thanks for sending this!! You didn't mention a character and neither did I, so here's what I'm going to do. Three short vignettes for three different characters, each for this same prompt.
#20 Alone, finally
From micro story asks
Mister Miracle
It was all he knew. Granny, the X-Pit, pain, slums, dogs, parademons, chaos, aero troopers, Furies, fire, Darkseid, Darkseid, Darkseid, Darkseid. And then he was defying orders, he was running, he was yelling for Barda to come with him but she would not. "Keep going!" she had called. "Keep going!!" And at the last moment there was Darkseid, claiming these final grueling steps of freedom as his own, that voice grinding like granite. He had called him a warrior. Then the unknown of the Boom Tube, followed by a miracle: Quiet. And he was alone. Finally.
Orion
The mission was clear. To Apokolips, then to Earth, then to war. Orion was on the second leg of his prophecy, having rescued the humans from DeSaad's contraption and brought them back to Dave Lincoln's Earth apartment. The humans were rightfully afraid, abuzz with the trauma they had experienced and the realization that they were powerless against such evils even here on their home planet. Orion felt for them deeply, and vowed to protect their kind against Darkseid even if it cost him his life. But he knew this was no trivial oath. It shook him to the core, a momentary falter he did not want the Earth humans to see. He excused himself to the other room to catch his breath and get his bearings. Just as he held up Mother Box to let his facade fade and his true face show, he heard the voices from outside the door remark at how reliable and courageous he was, and then how good looking and attractive. Orion looked at himself in the mirror as he listened to their muffled chatter, and realized this was the first time since his mission began that he was finally alone.
Heartbeat (my OC!)
It was a long day, but when you can only really remember the past three days and you were mostly unconscious for two of them, it really makes a long day feel extra long by comparison. The sky was darkening, and after Highfather's subtle yet cutting remarks about Metron's accomodations, she was shown to a proper bedroom when they returned to the lab. The attached living quarters likely would've continued to go unused indefinitely had someone not convinced Metron that perhaps Heartbeat might like that better than sleeping on the lab's examination bed for the forseeable future. So she was grateful. When he brought her into the bedroom, she gasped at the view. A large circular window over the bed displayed stars and swirling galaxies far beyond. She went over to it and looked up in wonderment, hopping onto the bed and kneeling into the soft fur blankets laid atop. "Metron, it's beautiful," she said softly. Metron seemed nonplussed. He muttered something about getting rest, then went on his way. Heartbeat turned back to the window, lost in thought. It was easy to feel alone when you don't have any memories. But she wondered about Metron. He had all the knowledge of all the stars in the universe, or so he claimed, and yet he seemed more alone than anyone. Is that the way he preferred it? She sighed. Would he prefer to finally be alone?
My free time today is getting spent laying in bed with a headache instead of working on my to-do list ;_; But since ive had time for some daydreaming, heres an OC and Metron thought.
What if there was a Supertown ball
(this got kinda long so going under a read more)
This is so fluffy and cringe and cliche but idc. My head hurts and my stomach hurts. This is where im at right now.
A ball or a gala or just something elegant and formal with dancing and mingling and probably inebriation of some kind. Maybe these are only once a year for a unique holiday. Sponsored by Highfather but planned by a committee. Themed? Idk, i dont want it to come off as a prom lol. Maybe they do color palettes to emphasize the theme mostly. But i do like the idea of New Genesians going all out with like over the top kirby style head gear but make it formal. Huge jeweled collars or bib necklaces that hang beyond the chest. Things like that would be fun. And some traditions too, but id need to work out what the holiday is about first.
Anyway, so everyone is invited. Nobody living there is not invited. So very fancy invitations are sent out to all residents, including Metron. Of course he never goes. No need, its not worth his time. Nothing to so much as glean there. But this time Heartbeat is there, and she sees the invitation (beautiful, gold laced, smells of sweet rose when opened, has a glow to it). And shes like omfg we have to go to this. Metron's all, do what you want, im not going though. But the invite is to Metron and his guest, not to her by name, so she kind of frets about that. Plus she doesnt know the customs and would be uneasy attending alone. Metron says he'll get Lightray to take her, and she's like stop saying you'll get Lightray to do everything :| Plus, wouldnt he be going with Orion (yes).
So they squabble about it. Probably some stuff happens in the meantime. Heartbeat wardrobe tryon montage. Metron nonplussed and generally being a stick in the mud. Orion and Lightray teaching Heartbeat about some traditions, which would probably be funny to get their differing perspectives. And in the end she plans to attend alone after all. Maybe this is fairly early into her stay and other people dont really know who she is yet, so that's some of where her apprehension is.
So the time comes and Metron still isnt going, but he sees how excited she is and despite himself has noticed how much shes been into learning the traditions and getting dressed up. Shes heading out, alone for the first time (she'll meet Orion and Lightray there, she wont be completely alone), and Metron also sees that she had held out hope to the very last second that he might go. I think hed have his own hangups about it, and even though 99% of him really doesnt care about this thing and thinks its a waste, 1% of him is kinda of using that as an excuse. He'd be shunned anyway, doesnt fit into that kind of thing, would be the center of rumors and gossip bc itd be so unlike him to go, and what would he even do there besides stand in a corner and observe, which that creeps people out too. Of course Heartbeat has no idea about any of this, she just thinks he's a party pooper.
But shes disappointed and it shows with how deflated she is when she leaves. She wanted him to go because she already does like him even though it hasnt been long. Not that shes feeling any romantic ways about him, but hes the one she knows best. Shes comfortable around him, and it feel like theyre kind of a duo with how much time theyve spent together going places and doing things. Shes a little hurt he wouldnt just go to this thing with her to keep her company. Hes done far more uncomfortable things, so yeah she takes a little hit to her self worth over it. Maybe they weren't actually becoming as close as she thought. Maybe she just got too comfortable with him or assumed too much about what their time together has meant. It wouldve been kind of nice to do something actually social with him. Out. Away from the lab. Away from the Mobius Chair.
She goes and it's a blow out event (always is). People are looking extravagant. Lightray finds her and both he and Orion look stunning. Orion doesnt like the stuffiness of what hes wearing, but he honors the traditions of New Genesis. I imagine hed wear some stylized armor but mixed with whatever passes as formal menswear in Supertown. Not sure what Lightray's wearing but its probably awesome and glowing.
Theres food and drinks and dancing. Heartbeat is alone for most of the evening, a wallflower. Others are kind of avoiding her because the rumor is she's Metron's pet project, so theres probably something weird about her, or shes probably cold like he is, or who knows but easier to just keep your distance from her. Lightray had tried to combat the rumor mill but its an uphill battle, and he and Orion have been swept away for much socializing and dancing. So Heartbeat spent much of the night watching people dance and trying to learn the moves mentally. At some point Orion makes his way over. He's clearly nearing his limit for socializing, and he tells her hes sorry the town has not yet warmed to her, but they will. Just not tonight. He knows how that feels though, and it can hurt. But he says the upside is you don't have to engage in pointless surface level conversation with the entire population of the town in the meantime. Orion will probably leave soon (Lightray always stays until theyre kicking people out), so he can take Heartbeat back.
But then theres a small commotion from the other side of the great hall, and lots of talking and gossiping makes its way back towards where theyre standing. People look real put off and theyre saying things like idk why he'd come here. And advising each other to steer clear. And turning to the next person eagerly saying youll never guess who just walked in.
Its metron. Hes wearing what I guess would be the bare minimum youd consider as dressing up? Some robe like thing thats very simple and understated, and is clearly over his normal suit, which is kind of hilarious in a you-tried-sticker kind of way. The crowd parts as he walks through, emotionless as ever. Music still plays and people are still carefree dancing, but anyone who was mingling is now absorbed with gossip. He makes his way to the back of the hall where he has spotted Orion and Heartbeat. Lightray also emerges at their side bc hes going to run interference if he has to, this looks like some drama about to happen. So Lightray steps forward and greets Metron with all the charm he has, trying to lead by example and show everyone its fine to interact with Metron in a social setting even if hes kind of a piece of shit asshole all the time. Unclear if its working since Metron kind of dismisses him and beelines for Heartbeat.
And Heartbeat is ...confused? Kind of excited bc hes here! But also why is he here? He wasnt going to come, is something wrong? And even though she wanted to attend with him, now that she sees what it's like and the rumor mill they have to endure, shes kind of like ohhhh maybe this is also why it wasnt worth his time. Shes thinking now ehhhh it probably wouldve been better if he hadnt shown up bc things just got 500 times more awkward. But that still doesnt stop her from being a little giddy about it, even though its weird and he's weird and god everything about this is just so weird. And hes there for her. Clearly, its the only reason. It makes her heart skip a beat and an involuntary muffled ping rings out from in her chest. He glances down at her chest and back up, he definitely noticed that even with the noise of the music and crowd.
Half the room is watching them, and some people are starting to go from thinking Heartbeat was there for some ulterior motive to like spy on them, to now being like omgggg is there something going on between them?! And theyre basically hyping it into a soap opera waiting to see what happens. Metron and Heartbeat both catch fragments of murmurs, and Heartbeat starts getting a little distressed. Metron steps closer and tells her not to give any thought to what people are saying. She had been very interested in the traditions of New Genesis, and what is gossip but a social tradition practiced by all. Every one of them has been the focus of it, its victim or its victor, and so will again as the cycle continues. So do not let it be a loss that this night the focus is on you.
He offers his hand and she takes it. She looks into his eyes and silently, internally begs that she can trust him. The look he's giving her is piercing, but she feels like he's answering that she can. He sweeps her into a dance, which is so, SO unexpected that some of the crowd gasps, other giggle, and many are now somehow rooting for Heartbeat. The narrative of the gossip starts to shift to the idea that she's this mysterious stranger who has come along and somehow tamed Metron's heart. People are basically eating this up. As they dance Metron keeps her eyes locked with his. Ignore them. Theyll say anything. But by the end of our dance they will fear you no longer.
The song ends and theres a bit more gossip that swirls around the room, and then to Heartbeat's surprise, everyone sort of turns back to what they were doing and it all sort of settles back into the comfortable energy the ball had before. A few people still watch and whisper and they leave together, Metron leading Heartbeat by hand. In the Mobius Chair on the way back, he explains that at events like this, the town hungers for a juicy plot. If it wasn't her, it would've been someone else. But he knew if they were given some climax to the night, they would be satiated. Of course the two of them will be whispered about for some time, but eventually it wont matter and attention will wane when nothing more comes of it. Heartbeat understands what he's saying and thinks okay she can endure that.
But why did he come at all? And if he was going to why disappoint her like that? Surely he doesnt care about gossip. Of course not, but he explains that he knew how the events would unfold, and the crowd would only react to the most genuine emotions. So Heartbeat had to go alone in order to have this surprise moment at the end. And he doesnt care what the town thinks UNLESS its going to impact his work, and if Heartbeat ends up too depressed about it thatd be an annoyance, so he saw an opportunity to help build favor for her with the socialites of Supertown. Just wait, in the next days people will be so eager to learn more about her before things die down, she'll be quite popular. But shes not buying it. She can tell thats not really what his motives were. Maybe it worked out that way in the end, but he didnt fucking master mind this and send her dejected alone for that purpose. She knows he really and truly was not going to go, so something changed.
It was when she was leaving and he saw how crestfallen she was, and he knew the kind of night she was about to have. Yeah he didnt want her mood to impact their work, and thats what he kept telling himself. But there was more to it. He couldnt explain it, but he just. He didnt want that for her. He had sat there most of the night tinkering on some machine, but his thoughts were preoccupied with how she must be faring until he could take it no longer.
But does he tell her any of that? Fuck no. He sticks to his story about planning this all ahead of time and swooping in at the last minute as a tactic to make the town more positive about her. She isnt satisfied with that but hes obviously not budging about it so she drops it.
That night she falls asleep thinking about how the crowd murmured about him when he entered, and she replayed in her mind over and over the way his eyes felt locked onto hers as he danced her across the room. And then he took her hand and they left to the sounds of speculation about their relationship. If only people knew there was no relationship to speak of, how surprised would they be. But something about seeing it through their eyes, imagining this make-believe world where somehow she had been the one to change him, the one to capture his attention, made her squirm. And not in an entirely bad way. She fell asleep wondering what that meant, and she dreamed about dancing.
