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Chapter 25

Beyond the Lens - Logbook Videographer!Reader x OT8 Ateez

W/C 16,293

🎥 Series Masterlist 🎥

☽ Masterlist ☾

Inspiration Pictures

Pinterest Board Masterlist

Previous Chapter (Chapter 24)

Disclaimer: This story is purely a work of fiction. It is not meant to assume or mock anything about Ateez, Atiny, or anything relating to what I do not know about being a videographer. This story will follow several of the events that Ateez have done in the past year for Golden Hour Part 2, that being said I will not be able to include everything.

Contains she/her pronouns.

The logo in the center is mine. Please do not reuse or copy.

I strongly recommend looking at the inspiration pictures and the Pinterest boards linked above (which will be updating as the story goes on).

General Warnings: slow burn, cussing, conflict, angst, fluff, and obliviousness.

CHAPTER WARNINGS - Sweet fluff, SPICY and HIGHLY SUGGESTIVE. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

It's finally arrived! I apologize for the delay, I am hoping to get back on my unofficial posting schedule this weekend! Let me know what you think! <3 Moonie

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Someone was shaking you, with a groan you opened your eyes to see Meadow. Her blonde hair was up in a messy bun and her blue eyes were looking at you with concern.

“Good morning,” her eyebrows raised like you were crazy.

“Girl, it looks like you got into a fist fight with a block of steel, what happened? Do I need to kick someone’s ass?” You looked down and realized that the bruises were a very stark contrast to the white of Hetmongi.

“I will explain after I have had my morning drink. Is the baby Cheeto still on the bed? I don't want to disturb her.”

“Alright you little monsters, it's coming, calm down.” Aurora’s voice carried over the yelling of the two orange cats. You giggled and sat up. Meadow handed you your glasses before offering you a hand to help you up. You placed your arm into it and she pulled you to a standing position. She grinned at you before making her way out to the kitchen, you followed and the smell of breakfast greeted you.

“Good morning, we were surprised to see you crashed out in the bed this morning. Is everything okay?” Aurora slid over a cup of your favorite drink before grabbing her own.

“It’s a long ass story.”

“We have all the time in the world if you feel like sharing.” the pair of them were watching you with curious gazes. A timer went off and Aurora moved to open the stove, Meadow gravitated toward her offering some oven mitts. As soon as you caught sight of the huge cinnamon rolls your mouth started watering.

“If you bribe me with one of those I will tell you anything, even some embarrassing secrets,” Meadow’s responding laughter echoed around the kitchen, you caught Aurora’s small smile out of the corner of your eye.

“We were going to give you some anyway.”

“Thank the gods.” you approached the cupboard and grabbed the plates before handing them to the couple. Aurora dished out one and you rotated the plates until the three of you had a heaping cinnamon roll with lots of frosting. You followed the pair into the living room and sat on the floor in front of the coffee table. Cheese and Cheeto were perched in their cat tree watching over all three of you as you took your respective seats. With a deep breath you launched into the story of the past few days. Their reactions were just about the same as yours, shock and pride filled their gazes as you got to the meat of the story. More than once they told you they were proud of you for standing your ground and not forgiving him right away. Meadow was keeping you stocked with food and any other things she could think of to keep you grounded while you spoke, even going to grab the Hetmongi in the other room for you after you became too stuffed from eating her cinnamon rolls.

“So, what are you going to do?”

“Honestly I have no idea, I can't let this interfere with my job too much. I still have to get shit done before we really start ramping up our schedules for their comeback.” You knew that their promotions were going to start soon, and by that token you knew you would have to take that into account going forward.

“Maybe you should focus on finishing up some of the other projects you have while I cover the boys.”

“I’ve kind of considered that but I just don't want it to seem like I am pulling away from all of them when I really only have an issue with Hongjoong. You also don't really have the greatest portable setup so it might be more of a hassle for you to do it.”

“I mean, it’s whatever you are comfortable with, but if that’s what we need to do then that’s what we need to do.” She shrugged like it wouldn't be a hassle for her to only have one small screen; having multiples is what worked best for the majority of your work. That specifically is the reason you bought your extender, if you hadn't you couldn't have been able to do as much as you have on the go.

“How about you just think about it, you really don't have to make a decision today.” Meadow, always the voice of reason, was watching you as you messed with Hetmongi in your lap.

“Yeah, I know. You know me though I like to have a decent plan for everything.”

“And while I adore that about you, sometimes just taking it step by step is what needs to happen.” You nodded to Meadow. “Now that we have that out of the way, give me your hands so I can check them to see if you injured yourself being a dumbass without wraps.”

“There’s Dr Moretti,” you laughed at Aurora’s comment while she looked at her wife with a large smile. Without a second thought you offered her your hands to look at. She was looking over the back of your hands with careful consideration. With a small movement of her wrist your hand was flexed into a straight position, you winced and gritted your teeth while she checked your range of motion.

“Flex them into fists as best you can.” You started to close your fists but you got barely halfway before feeling the pain. You gritted your teeth trying to get farther but the swelling and pain wouldn't let you.

“Squeeze” she offered you her fingers to squeeze. You took them and squeezed until you couldn't fathom the pain anymore. When she deemed it enough she pulled her hands away from yours lightly.

“You still have decent strength, nothing seems to be broken but the swelling is something I worry about. You need to ice and rest it above your heart as much as you can. Take some over the counter pain meds to help reduce the swelling, and no compression gloves like I saw on the nightstand. I know they took away the pain a little but they can do more harm than good most of the time. Watch how you use it on your creative console and that fuckass trackball mouse, small spurts are okay but not too long. No piano for the time being and no more murdering punching bags for hours either. You should hopefully be completely better in about four weeks with how deep these bruises run, you got damn lucky you didnt get a boxer's fracture. Just.. take it easy with nothing too strenuous, stretch it out the best you can from time to time and let me know if it gets worse. If the bruising isn't gone in that time frame you need to come see me so we can rule out worse things than a bruise. You handled that better than most of the hardcore athletes I have done here recently, the big ass babies.” The laughter echoed around the living room at her comment. Leave it to her to drag the huge athletes she takes care of like she isn't less than half their height and weight. You gave her a mock salute and she rolled her eyes at you.

After a little while of catching up with the couple and watching some shows you stretched out and gently scooted Cheese out of your lap. She jumped down without a struggle but turned around to look at you with a pitiful look. “Don't look at me like that, I needed to move because my legs were going numb you shitlin.”

You turned to the couple that was cuddled up on the other side of the couch completely engrossed in their kdrama. “Would one of you be willing to take me home?”

“Yeah, we can you want to go now or do you want to wait a little while?”

“I'd like to go now if that’s okay, I just want to be home with my babies and I have a couple of things I would like to get done today.” The two of them nodded and got up, you followed their lead and went to change into a spare pair of clothes you had here. You threw on the black cropped tee with white stitching and the black shorts before slipping on your birkenstocks from last night. You grabbed the couple of things you had here and put them into the small sack Yunho had given you. When you were sure you had everything you walked out and were met with both Cheese and Cheeto. You squatted down to the girls and offered your hand, the two of them rubbed on your hand and you smiled. It was odd seeing normal sized cats sometimes, you tended to forget that your giants were giants compared to most others; especially these two. When their moms came out of their shared room you smiled up at them.

“Ready?” Meadow was twirling her keys in her hand, you knew you were in for a fun ride if she was driving. You followed the pair out the door while tying your hair up. When you reached her deep blue BMW she grinned at you while she got in the driver's seat. Aurora made her way around and hopped into the back seat diagonal from her wife. After Aurora was settled you got into the front with Meadow. The car hummed to life and she took off toward your house. Through the ride you were all jamming to loud music as soon as you got out of the big city. Your hair was blowing back in the breeze and the small fly aways were atrocious as she sped through the winding roads. The three of you were laughing like maniacs as she took a curve quickly. When she got to your gate she pulled up and put in the code and made her way toward the house. The shade of the large trees was a welcome reprieve from the sun. When you got to the driveway she parked her car and looked over to you.

“If you need anything, anything at all, we are here for you. Please keep me updated on your hands.” you nodded to Meadow and pulled her into a hug before getting out of the car. Aurora slid into the seat you previously occupied and grabbed Meadow’s hand.

“You know where to find me, hopefully I will see you tomorrow. If not I’ll either come check on you or message you. You are welcome ove at ours any time no matter what.”

“Thank you, both of you. I really appreciate you. I love you, have a good rest of your day.”

“We love you too. Have a good day Boo” Meadow put the car in drive and continued driving around your circular drive to head back the way you came. When they were out of sight you walked up to your house. Beans was peeking out the nook window at you, she gave a small chirp which could barely be heard through the windows. It attracted the attention of Mocha who was lying behind her curled up. You walked into the house with a smile and immediately went over to the nook to pay attention to your girls. When you got close enough Mocha got up and stretched out before rubbing on your outstretched hand.

You petted them before wandering away to find Toothless who was curled up on his window hammock in the kitchen. His immediate reaction was to get up as soon as he saw you. He let out a small squeak before jumping down to rub on your legs. When you reached for him he got up on his back legs to get to your hand quicker. You petted him and he was purring and staring up at you with his big green eyes. He really was a real life Toothless, right down to the temperament. After you were finished petting him you walked over to your suitcase to grab it to bring up to the laundry room. When you were finished throwing everything in the washer you moved on to do a couple of more chores. While you were moving around the house you were being followed by the giants. As soon as you would turn a corner they were there staring at you expectantly. On more than one occasion you nearly tripped over them while walking up the stairs. “What do you want?”

Their responding meows told you absolutely nothing. With a roll of your eyes you made your way over to the basement. As soon as you had stepped into the room they went for the couch, now you understood. “Is it cuddle time, you big babies?”

You settled onto the couch and were immediately met with Toothless in your face. All of their weight was on their front paws while they trampled you. Toothless was rubbing his face on your glasses and face which made you fall into a fit of giggles. Beans was kneading on your thighs and Mocha was laying by your feet. The three of them were just loving on you as much as they could. Their comfort was some of your favorite comfort. When Toothless was finished with his love ambush he cuddled down up close to your face. Thankfully the remote was nearby, you grabbed it and turned on one of your favorite comfort shows. When it was rolling you moved to rest your hands on the back of the couch so the swelling would possibly go down. After a few episodes of your show you were getting restless.

“Would the three of you be willing to let me up so I can go and get in the pool?” None of them moved, you snorted before gently pushing off all three of them. When you stood your back cracked loudly and you let out a small groan at the pain of the pops. You made your way to your room and grabbed your celestial swimsuit before heading down the stairs.

As soon as you stepped outside you were met with the humid heat. Because it was in the middle of the summer you didn’t want to leave the doors open for the giants at this time of the day. You glanced behind you to the children who were staring at you through the window from their favorite places on the treehouse. You snickered and snapped a picture before connecting to the several speakers throughout the backyard. When you were satisfied with the playlist you chose you threw your phone onto the canopy chair. Deciding to be a little chaotic you took a running start and dove into the pool. As soon as you broke the surface you were grinning. It’s been a while since you just got some time to yourself in the pool. You swam around a little before you moved to the side to grab one of your floaties. As soon as you had it in your grasp you heaved yourself onto it and just let it float with you around the pool. Every once in a while you would glance back at the window, more often than not Toothless was sitting there watching you.

After looking over and seeing him at the back door standing on his back feet pawing at the door you gave in. You grabbed his floaty and you jumped out from the side of the pool to make your way onto the patio and let him out with you. He stopped and you clipped it onto him before leading him out to the stairs. As soon as you stepped into the water he followed you in. When you moved around he was diligently following you, you grabbed some of his floaty toys and threw them around for him to chase after. He was content just swatting a ball around while you watched from afar. He was the best impulsive decision you ever made, after hearing that no one wanted him because of his extra toes you couldn't pass him up. Having him around to be your boy for the last couple of years has been a blessing. He was one of the typical attached at the hip boy cats for his girl. There was some splashing and you looked over to see him approaching you. When he got into range he tried climbing up onto you, with quick movements you scooped him up and put him over your shoulder. This was his sign that he was done for the day.

You made your way out of the pool and set him down on the canopy chair and took off his floaty. Once you were done you grabbed your phone and had him follow you back up to the house. He was patient as you toweled him off and as soon as you were done he took off. Generally after getting in the pool and towel dried he got the zoomies; which in turn gave the girls the zoomies. You moved to the island stools and took a seat so you wouldn't get knocked over. Your phone started vibrating and flashing next to you. With a glance at the screen you saw Seonghwa calling you. You answered the facetime call and as soon as you did Toothless took off through the living room and nearly careened into the couch as he was sliding around. Slapping your hand over your mouth you let out a laugh, the pain sent a small jolt through you but you couldn't care.

Seonghwa was just watching you as you were laughing at something beyond the screen, he chose not to disturb your giddiness. As soon as you looked down at your phone you saw his smiling face and smiled back at him.

“Hi, my star. How are you doing?”

“I’m doing better now that I see my beautiful girlfriend.” You rolled your eyes at him and caught a streak of white behind your screen. Peeking around your phone you saw Mocha chasing Toothless. She caught up to him and damn well tackled him; although she was the smaller of the two by a couple or three pounds she was kicking his ass. Toothless let out a pathetic meow before they took off again.

“What are you giggling at Yeobo (Darling)?” You flipped your camera around just in time for Beans to join the fray by running across the back of the couch and around the treehouse to the pedestals on the ceiling. Mocha was not too far behind her and before you knew it they were running around in circles on the ceiling.

“This happens every time Toothless comes in from being in the water, he starts a zoomies war.” Seonghwa was laughing as he watched the girls chase each other around. Toothless appeared out of the void and was sliding around on the wooden floor chasing after one of the fake mouse toys. It was all around chaos.

“So Yeobo (Darling), I was initially calling to ask you a question.” You looked back down at the screen and flipped it around to show you. His smile brightened just a little as you came back into the frame.

“What’s up Naui Byeolnim (my star)?”

“Before you left you mentioned that you wanted to do the Legos after you got back from Paris, and I have a free afternoon and evening so I wanted to know if we could make a date night out of it; if you are up for it of course,”

“That would be fun! Although I hope you'll be patient with me cause my fine motor skills are a little limited,” You chuckled a little at the thought of attempting to put together legos.

“When are you thinking of coming over? Do you want anything in particular for dinner?”

“How about you and I cook something together and then we can watch Beauty and the Beast while we put the castle together?”

“I would love to. I do have one stipulation.” He nodded his head at you, his hair flopped down in front of his eyes and you really wanted to brush it out of his face.

“You bring your swimsuit.”

“What for?”

“I have a couple of ideas to add to your plan, if you are up for a couple of surprises.” His smile got even bigger while he was nodding at you. You matched his grin and you just sat there watching the other in silence. God he was so pretty. There was the clicking of a door popping open in the background of his call.

“Hwa, you ready to record your part?” Maddox’s voice sounded softly in the background. Your eyebrows raised as you were watching him in the frame. When was this added to the schedule?

“Yeah, give me a second and I'll head in.” He turned back toward you, a small smile gracing his face.

“I’ve gotta get going, I'll see you later my moon. I love you, be careful with your hands.”

“I will, I love you too, my star.” He hung up the call and you set your phone on the counter. You had at least a couple of hours before he would get here, what could you do to occupy your time until then? Before you got too far into thinking you figured you should at least cover up the swimsuit for now. Wandering upstairs to your room you put on one of your skirts and a button up, you tied the button up into the swimsuit top and checked yourself out in the mirror. You looked damn good. After getting situated you made your way back downstairs and grabbed your camera bag to take into your office. When you opened the door the quick padding of cat feet immediately came your way. With a shake of your head you left the door open for the eager giants, you put your backpack on your desk and started unpacking. Setting your cameras to the side, you decided that you would work on some of Hyunjin’s pictures and videos instead of actual work.

Before you could do anything you put on your horned headphones after taking them off their designated stand. You started up your computer and got into your apps to be able to edit everything. Once you pulled a couple over from your cloud you got to work editing, Hyunjin had an amazing eye for capturing pictures and it really showed in the ones he took that night. You laughed as you opened one of them to see San attempting to chase after you through the trees. (something like this) You added a couple of effects and saved a couple of extras. Another one was of you and San just walking through the trees back toward your house. (this) With that picture you barely had to make any adjustments, it looked so perfect already from the raw shot. You continued like this bobbing your head to your playlist that picked up from when you left off outside. Most of the other pictures he got were of the plants and flowers. Your favorite one of those was the one of your willow tree lit up in all its glory. You were grinning while looking over that photo, spending several summer nights climbing that tree with and without a ladder paid off. You even had to recruit the team to help you, bribing them with wine and swimming after you were finished.

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You were finishing up the final pictures so you could send them to Hyunjin. Out of the corner of your eye you spotted some kind of movement, you glanced over thinking it was one of the giants running around, boy were you wrong. Seonghwa was standing in the doorway looking at you with a tilt of his head. As soon as your brain caught up with your eyes you looked back at him with wide eyes while taking off your headphones leaving them to rest around your neck.

“Weren't you told to take it easy and not work too much with your fuckass trackball mouse?”

“That fucking traitor,” Seonghwa laughed at your reaction before stepping into your office.

“Save your work and shut it down, no more for the rest of the day.”

“But this is the last picture,” you pouted at him and he was trying so hard to suppress his smile at you.

“Okay, the last picture then you can send them out but after that you are mine.”

“I’m already yours but okay,” His face morphed into shock momentarily while he processed what you said; you turned back to the computer with a smug grin. He stood at the back of your chair with his hands on your shoulders just watching. You were moving your mouse around quickly to adjust the final picture of the peony you gave him. As soon as you were finished you added them to a compressed zip file and sent it off to Hyunjin.

“Alright, shut it down and come on, I'm starving.” You laughed at him as you saved your work. When you were finished you took off your headphones, turned them off and put them back in their spot. As soon as you were completely done Seonghwa escorted you out of the room and clicked his tongue for the giants to follow before shutting the door. You saw some bags on the counter and approached cautiously ahead of him.

“Wait a minute,” you froze and looked back at Seonghwa who was just staring at you with wide eyes and his jaw slack. “When did you get that?”

You glanced down and smiled, “oh, y’know, just about a week ago.”

“And you didn't think to share?” he was approaching you just looking back and forth from your eyes to the back of your leg. As soon as he got close enough he dropped into a crouch behind you. He was looking over the tattoo like it was an art piece in a museum, he had grabbed your leg and was slightly turning you so he could see everything. When he ran his fingers over the ink you shivered, goosebumps broke out across your arms and legs.

“It’s beautiful, does it have a meaning?” He was looking up at you through his lashes. That sight was something that you would never get out of your head.

“I thought it would be a good symbol that sometimes you have to fight for balance, and when it is finally achieved beauty follows.”

“Why are you such a poet? That’s absolutely beautiful.”

“Thanks Hwa, come on, let's get the food started.” You continued on your way to the kitchen and surveyed the food he got. Several kinds of different meats and a couple of vegetables. You started to rummage around the kitchen for some of the things that could be added to give it some flavor, after pulling out most of the herbs and spices you like you realized that you were nearly out of a couple.

“Hwa, I have to go to the garden to grab some things, you wanna stay here or you wanna come with me?”

“I’ll go, I'd like to see the garden in the daylight anyway.” You nodded to him and motioned for him to grab his shoes, you slipped yours on and waited for him to come to the back door with you. When he approached he grabbed your hand gently and followed your lead out the door. The two of you walked in relative silence before you heard the call of a magpie above you. You stopped short to look out for the black and white bird, it chirped again and you saw it. Your eyes immediately welled up and you watched the bird with a small smile.

There was something just pulling at your heartstrings about seeing one of the symbols of someone watching over you while you were headed to a garden your Granny would have been envious of. On the land that she and Papa helped you get with a man that held you close while you were missing them. You scooted closer to Seonghwa who stood there with you, no questions asked, just a solid presence while you watched the bird. “You okay my moon?”

You let out a tiny choked laugh and turned to him, “I am more than okay my star, just thinking of my Granny and Papa and how they would have loved this place I have created and the people I have surrounded myself with.”

He nodded at you and pulled you into a side hug before placing a kiss on your temple. You took one last look at the magpie in the trees above you before it flew away. A beautiful reminder that you were meant to be where you are today. You resumed walking and he stayed close with an arm around your shoulder. As soon as you got to the greenhouse you went in and grabbed a small pair of scissors before you moved to the herbs section. You snipped a couple stems before going over to your small herb basket and putting them in. Seonghwa just followed you around the greenhouse as you moved between the small rows of herbs. When you had enough to have some for at least a little while you turned to look at him with a smile. “Ready to go?”

“Can we go to the flower garden?” He was standing there looking at you with his hands woven together in front of him and a small smile.

“Yeah, I think I can squeeze that in, but last I checked you were starving.” You gave him a tilt of your head with a small smirk playing across your lips. He looked down and mumbled something under his breath.

“What was that?” You took a step closer to him and his eyes immediately met yours. As you got closer you could see the caramel colors in his beautiful eyes, that normally weren’t visible, in the mid afternoon light. His brain was short circuiting as you stood in front of him within arms reach. He opened his mouth to say something but immediately cut himself off, seemingly thinking better of himself.

“I wanted to get flowers for you, if that’s okay,” His voice was just barely above a whisper, but it spoke volumes in the quiet of the greenhouse. Your grin was immediate, as was his blush under your gaze. You took a step forward and cupped one of his burning cheeks, he would blame it on the warmth in the greenhouse but you knew better. He leaned his face into your palm and closed his eyes, relishing in your presence and gentle touch.

“You are so sweet. Come on, let's go to the flower garden and I can show you how to cut them.” His eyes flew open and a large grin stretched across his face. You motioned for him to lead the way and he almost took off running, with a light chuckle you followed him with your little herb basket. When he was far enough ahead of you he turned back to you with a large grin, he held out his hand to you to beckon you forward. You quickened your pace to put your hand in his, he gently started guiding you toward the moon gates before he stopped short. He turned to look at you with childlike wonder before turning back to whatever caught his attention. When you saw what he was freaking out for you let out a laugh, the resident bunnies were out and about.

“There is a family of them that lives around here somewhere. I see them a lot if I am out and about during the day.” His responding gasp was entertaining as another one came out of the bushes. Before too long Seonghwa ended up crouched just watching them play amongst the flowers. He had brought out his phone and was taking pictures of them with a giant smile. A rustle of the bushes caught your attention, you stole a glance to your left where you heard the sound.

“Hwa, don't make any sudden movements but I need you to look to your left.” You watched with a grin as his eyes got wide before turning to look toward his left, there inching closer to him was one of the smaller bunnies. His body was absolutely rigid as he took in the small animal and its cute twitching nose. With slow movements you grabbed a piece of rosemary and held it out in front of Seonghwa. He was moving almost as slow as a sloth as he took it from you and offered it to the bunny.

The small creature’s nose twitched several more times before coming forward to nibble at the sprig offered to it. Without missing a beat you grabbed your phone and took a picture of him. (Something like this) You watched the interaction in awe of how he was a literal Disney Princess with the looks and apparently an affinity with animals. He was looking at the bunny for a while before he glanced at you out of the corner of his eyes. You could just barely see the grin on his face as the bunny took the herb away from him.

Something in the distance scattered all of the bunnies in the surrounding area, they took off into and around the bushes so quickly you could barely make out where they ended up. Seonghwa turned to look at you with a small pout before standing back up to his normal height. He approached you and you held out your arms so he could dramatically fall into them. “They all left.”

“It’s okay, they will be back eventually. How about we plan a picnic sometime with some of the quieter boys and we can sit out here under the gazebo and watch them, does that sound good to you?” He nodded against you and pulled away before kissing you sweetly.

“Come on, let's get some flowers,” you started toward the gazebo where your clippers were. Just like the last time you were out here you dug around for them and produced a basket for him to hold onto as you walked around the garden.

“Alright love, my first tip, with roses if you pinch toward the base of the bloom and it is firm it will last longer, the reason it will last longer is because it is toward the beginning of its bloom. When they aren't as firm they have been in bloom for longer.” You tested some of them and motioned for him to give you his hand. As soon as you had it you showed him the difference between one that was toward the end of its blooming life and one that was at the beginning.

“Wah, that’s amazing! I didn't know that was a thing” He was pinching some of the other blooms before turning back to you with a grin.

“Now, when you have chosen the ones you want to cut you want to make sure you have enough stem for them to go into a vase. I tend to cut them about 15 or 16 centimeters (~6 inches) or if you prefer to see a physical measurement I hold my hand out to it and will measure by the stretch from my thumb to pinky which is about the same length.” You tested a few flowers before finding one that would be suitable. Once you found one that would be good you held out your hand and measured it to the best of your ability, the stretch was a little painful but not unbearable. When you had sight of where you should cut you did so. You turned around to offer Seonghwa the flower and he was just watching you with a small love struck look.

“What?” You asked him while placing the rose in the basket he offered you.

“You’re very knowledgeable is all, and the way you explained it and showed me how to do it is something that not a lot of people would do. Most of the time I’ll see people that will just tell you how to do it and then leave you to your own devices, this way of learning is so much better.”

“Thank you, I know people learn differently so I like to make sure they can understand what I am showing them. Where I am a very hands on and visual person with a touch of being able to listen and figure things out. I know everyone has a way they learn so I try to be conscientious of that fact.”

“You're amazing,” you waved your hand in a dismissing motion while trying to cover your face. His small chuckle told you that he caught on to you trying to hide your blush

“Now, it’s your turn.” You held out the shears and he gently took them from you. With a swift motion you took the basket off of his arm and held it while he explored some of the blooms. He trimmed several roses before immediately going over to the white peonies.

“Fair warning, these generally are covered in ants because of how strong their sweet scent is so be careful.” He nodded while he was inspecting the large beautiful white blooms; you could practically feel the gears turning in his brain. He cut several of the peonies before heading over to you with his handful. He set them into the basket before taking it off your arm.

“I’m ready to go now!” You couldn't keep the grin from spreading across your face.

“Lead the way then,” you flourished your arms in front of you to motion him forward. He rolled his eyes at you before gently taking your hand and placing it on his bicep so you could walk arm in arm back around the bend to the house. You were just walking quietly through the trees when Seonghwa stopped walking and turned to you.

“Can I tell you something?” You stared up at him, his eyes were serious but there was an undercurrent of nervousness in them.

“Of course”

“We are really happy you accepted our offer to be in our relationship, I don't think many of us told you that. We have been together for years and really hadn't considered adding someone else to our relationship until you came along. Being able to see how you move and work within our relationship makes me extremely happy. You brighten our days with your smile and how you hold yourself is something we admire about you.” He stopped to take a breath. He held eye contact while he was talking but in the small pause he looked down to the baskets slung across your arms and your hands that were now intertwined. You stood there in silence letting him piece his thoughts together. He looked back up to you and all you could see was the person behind the idol image. The one that was scared and lonely in the beginning, who, despite his confidence on stage, is still scared that he won't make it. The one who is constantly caring and worrying for others. You could see Seonghwa, and every facet beyond his carefully constructed armor.

“When you took care of Hongjoong when he was close to burnout without hesitation and such quiet gentle care I think that was the moment I fell in love with you. Then I saw how you were able to calm not one but two of us without hesitation after the whole security issue and fell even harder. In those moments I thought to myself she’s the last piece of our puzzle that we didn't even know we needed. Yunho can only do and see so much but you, you have the ability to know before something even happens. I think that's part of the reason I was so drawn to you, I could tell that you were someone we needed; someone we wanted.” You took his basket of flowers and set it on the ground along with your smaller basket. As soon as you were satisfied that they were stable you leapt into his arms. He made a startled noise before wrapping his arms around you. You buried your head into the crook of his neck and squeezed him; which he returned.

“I love you so much Seonghwa,” he squeezed you even tighter to him. You pulled yourself away from him and leaned in to kiss him. Your eyes fluttered closed as his soft lips moulded against yours. His hands settled themselves on your exposed back while yours were around his neck pulling him impossibly closer. There was no room between your bodies as you stood there wrapped in each other's embrace. The kiss was slow and filled with love, if you could have you would have melted into a puddle. His hands were tracing up and down your back, he lingered on some of the more textured skin from your tattoo just running his fingertips over the ink. It sent a shiver up your spine which prompted you to separate from him. You put your forehead against his and just sat there breathing the other in.

“I love you too Y/n,” a breathy chuckle left your kiss swollen lips.

“You keep distracting us, I’m starting to think you might not be as hungry as you initially said.” His laughter echoed through the trees. Without saying a word he picked up his basket of flowers and your basket of herbs and slung them over one arm while offering you the other. You tucked your hand comfortably against his bicep and followed his lead back up to the house. When you got within range you could see the children just sitting there watching you; like always.

Once you stepped into the house you immediately moved toward the kitchen with Seonghwa in tow. Getting under your sink you procured a couple of vases for Seonghwa to pick from while you started pulling out pots and pans for dinner. He was humming as he put the bouquet together. Before you could get much farther than washing your hands to slice up the meat you were gently tugged away and presented the flowers. Your jaw dropped, he had made the roses the centerpiece and they were sprinkled throughout the white making them pop.

“Well, you’re an expert on arranging flowers, it looks gorgeous Hwa.” His beaming bashful smile warmed your heart.

“Only the best for you my moon,” He leaned down and placed a small kiss on your forehead before moving past you and washing his hands to start helping with dinner. After he washed his hands he moved toward the food you had prepped before he pulled you away, he started cutting each of the ingredients up and placing them in small respective piles, being sure not to cross contaminate anything.

Any time you tried to help he gently shushed you away, no matter how small the task. Cutting herbs? Nope, he immediately took over. Starting to pan sear the meat, absolutely not. Trying to grab something off the shelf? His hand met your waist while he reached around you and snatched it before you could. ”Hwa, you know the term together means you actually have to let me do something.”

“You are supervisory personnel, that’s your job. All you have to do is sit there and look pretty while I do the rest. Besides, it’s not like you can curl your hand enough to hold a knife or chopsticks, don't act like I didn't see you struggling with the scissors earlier”

You rolled your eyes at him with a huff while you crossed your arms, “I’m not completely helpless I just need different tools, which I have if you would let me grab them.”

“Nope, so sit down and let me care for you, you stubborn woman.” You huffed again and plopped into one of the chairs at the island. He chuckled and stole a glance up at you through his lashes while he was cutting vegetables.

“While you’re sitting there, why don't you ice the back of your hands yeobo (darling).” You nodded and got up to go grab a couple of your ice packs to lay on the back of your hands. When you had one settled on the counter with the ice on the back of it you struggled to get the other one on. Seonghwa reached up and placed it over the back of your other hand before resuming his mission.

“Thank you,” he hummed his response before moving over to the stove. You watched him flutter around your kitchen flipping between several pans while he cooked for you. Throughout the entire thing he would offer you small bites over the island counter. You knew he would be offering you something as soon as he stepped away from the stove with his hand hovering under the chopsticks. At one point he did an airplane movement before putting it in your mouth. While you were chewing the piece of food he gave you you held eye contact with him and you could tell he was trying so hard to suppress his smile while he watched you. When you finished chewing the two of you couldn’t keep it together much longer before falling into a fit of laughter.

After you recovered from the entire airplane debacle he plated everything up and handed it to you with a pair of chopsticks. You looked at him and back at the chopsticks, it was then that he seemed to remember your predicament; he swiftly moved to the silverware drawer and grabbed you a fork and spoon. While they weren’t much better they would relieve some of the motion of your hands as you ate. The two of you ate in almost silence, the children had lined themselves up on the chairs surrounding the pair of you. Mocha was on one side of you while Beans and Toothless were on the other side of Seonghwa. You offered Mocha a piece and she gently took it from you and began to eat it, once she was satisfied with her bite of food she got down and wandered off.

“All you keep me around for is the food isn’t it you menace,” you muttered while she sauntered away. Seonghwa let out a snort at your muttered phrase. You turned to look over at him and he was covering his mouth with his hands while looking at you. “What?”

“You’re a goofball.”

“Thanks, I'll take that as a compliment” You turned back toward the food and began to eat again.

“You should, it’s cute.”

After getting seconds you and Seonghwa were absolutely stuffed. You were leaning back in your stool while he moved around cleaning everything up. He had adamantly refused your help, yet again, while he washed the dishes and packed up some of the leftovers for later. While his back was turned you snuck off your chair and into the gaming room. With quick movements you snagged your two lightsabers off the top shelf of the display case where you hid them. Trying to find a good display for the two of them that fit the aesthetic was proving to be difficult; to be quite honest you had forgotten about them until the Starwars nerd in the other room had waltzed into your life.

You snuck around and hid behind the door as best you could while he was finishing things up. When he turned back around to find you gone his eyes widened dramatically. “Y/n-nie?”

You snickered quietly from your spot as you watched him through the crack in the door. He was walking around suspiciously; rightfully so after the last time they couldn't find you. You moved on silent feet while his back was turned. Once you were settled in your spot you turned on your purple lightsaber trying to keep a straight face.

“It’s over Anakin, I have the high ground.” His responding jump made you giggle while he turned to look at you with squinted eyes. Immediately they widened upon seeing you with two lightsabers standing proudly over him with one foot on the back of the couch and a large grin on your face. You tossed the one you hadn’t turned on to him and he snagged it out of the air.

As soon as he had it in his hands he turned it on. A large grin like Cheshire the cat spread across his face as he noticed that it was yellow; just like his at home. “You underestimate my power.”

“Don't try it,” You leapt off the couch and flourished your lightsaber before striking yours against his. The two of you engaged in a quick battle of back and forth while the sounds of the lightsabers filled the room. You were grinning at him as you herded him backwards, before you could get close enough he took off in a sprint toward the stairs. Your laughter echoed around the great room as you took off after him. You took the stairs two at a time and made it to a couple of steps before the landing, he was standing there menacingly with his lightsaber pointed at you.

“Who’s got the high ground now Obi-Wan?” Your responding cackle surprised him, which gave you a small enough window that you could smack his lightsaber down and take the last couple of steps toward him. He backed away from you, his lightsaber hanging by his side as he watched you.

“Do you really think I would go down without a fight?” His eyes were wide as saucers. “You may have had the high ground but I have something even better. The element of surprise!” You moved quickly and brought down your lightsaber in an arcing motion, it made light contact with the top of his head before you brought it back to your side.

“Did you just bonk me?” You raised your eyebrows at him in response.

“Maybe, but what are you gonna do about it?” He raised his yellow lightsaber in a defensive position while you did the same.

“A duel to the death, loser has to make dessert; after the legos.”

“Deal, I expect something extravagant to be bestowed upon me when I win.” He moved first coming at you with a quick flurry of motion. You countered all of the swings he took. While he focused on stepping toward you you took a small step toward him which knocked him off balance just minutely. You started toward him with a few flourishing moves which he also countered, you got close enough and crossed lightsabers.

“Hmm, I’m thinking some kind of cookie, or maybe some brownies and ice cream.”

“Don't get your hopes up Dalnim (moon),” His smirk was cocky as the two of you stepped back away from each other. You held up your lightsaber and he held up his, with quick movements you struck again. Barely giving him any time to react; his quick reflexes kicked in and he blocked the blow that would have made him lose. His block of your move gave him the window to step toward you and you took a step back and were met with a furry body running into you. Your eyes widened as you realized you were falling and couldn't catch yourself with your hands and that Seonghwa was just a step too far to be able to catch you in time. You stuck your elbows out to catch the brunt of your fall backwards.

You were giggling as you hit the floor, Beans had immediately run off as soon as you tripped over her. Of course this is how it would end. Seonghwa was barely concealing some level of concern but what got you the most was him trying and failing to hide his small smile. Before he had time to second guess himself he poked you in the stomach, your laughter got louder while you flopped completely on the floor dramatically. “You have bested me Anakin, goodbye cruel world, I'll see you in hell.”

You reached up dramatically toward Seonghwa before letting your hand fall against your stomach and closing your eyes. His laughter finally broke free of the restraint he had on it. You peeked your eyes open and looked at him, he was bent over himself and clutching his stomach as he laughed so hard he was almost wheezing. He knelt on the floor and landed next to you dramatically. Both of you laid on the ground just staring at the ceiling, when Beans had finally come out of hiding she came and got onto your stomach. You responded with a grunt and started petting her as she was demanding. “You traitor.”

“She’s cute though, so she should be forgiven,” you turned to look at Seonghwa and he was already watching you and Beans.

“There’s nothing to forgive,” you turned back to the baby in your face and ran your hands over her fluffy fur. After a couple of minutes you placed both of your hands on either side of her face and pushed the fur down so she looked really skinny. She shook herself out and nose booped your nose before getting off of you.

“You ready to build some Legos Hwa?”

“I was born ready Y/n-nie” He got up from next to you and offered you a hand to help you up. You gave him your arm and he hoisted you upwards. When you were fully upright you gave him a kiss on the cheek before heading down the stairs with your lightsaber. After you put it back on top of the shelf you motioned for him to follow you into the basement where you generally put everything together. At the base of the stairs was Toothless, it was like he knew what you were going to be doing. Spread out in the middle of the rug in front of the couch was Mocha, right where you generally sat. You made your way over to the hiding spot you had and pulled out the box.

Seonghwa stood there watching where you hid it like he would have to use the information for later. You stepped past him and set the box on the floor before moving to get the several small trays you used to sort out the pieces. When you had them spread out you moved to get the large tray for where the construction would take place. As soon as you pulled it out from between your bookshelves Seonghwa moved toward you in an attempt to help. You swung at him to get him to go away and he reluctantly let you carry it over to the rug. After everything was set up you turned to look at him, he was surveying all of the trays scattered over the floor with curious eyes.

“Ready?” His gaze snapped to yours and he gave an excited nod. Before sitting down you grabbed the remote and turned on the original Beauty and the Beast. Seonghwa busied himself with sorting out the bags onto the various trays while you kept an eye out for the giants. He handed you the book and you laid it out in front of you.

With a smile you pulled the first tray toward you that he had dumped the number one out on. You took a look at the book and grabbed the first few pieces to start putting them together, but it proved to be difficult to manage the small pieces. On the third try you were getting frustrated with yourself as the pieces wouldn’t clip together like they should have been. Seonghwa, who could probably sense your growing frustration, reached over and lightly put his hand over yours.

“I know you want to be able to put this together mostly by yourself but I don't want you to irritate your hands more than you most likely have with our lightsaber battle. How about you tell me what to do and hand me the pieces and I can be your hands. Maybe sometime soon, when your hands aren’t so sore and swollen, we can go and get another set and build it completely together; how does that sound?” You looked up at him from the small pieces in front of you with a small pout.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I would love to be able to help but not being able to completely bend is making it difficult. Thank you for being patient with me.”

“You don't need to thank me for showing you basic human decency.”

“I do, because it is more than a lot of people have given me, and I want you to know that I am thankful for you.” He pulled you into his side and rested his chin on the crown of your head. You sat there with him for a couple of minutes just letting him lead whatever he was doing.

“You are our treasure, you deserve the world, and if I could give it to you I would.” He placed a kiss on your hair and pulled away from you. You smiled gratefully at him, choosing not to say anything; lest your voice cracks from the raw emotions crawling up your throat. When he let you go you slid over the small tray of pieces and started showing him what needed to happen. How he managed to snap the pieces together with such quick efficiency baffled you to no end. In the middle of putting everything together you stopped to watch the movie, it was toward the end and the battle had broken out in the castle.

Seonghwa turned to ask you for the next piece but when he did he noticed how enamored you were with the movie. You were leaning forward toward the screen with your forearms resting on your crossed legs. He could see your inner child peeking through the cracks of your heavy armor. She was so tucked away from everyone that no one had seen her except for when she was terrified. This was a side of you that was filled with wonder and love for life. Your eyes were shining so brightly that he could see the stars within them behind your thick framed glasses. You were so relaxed around him that you completely let your guard down, allowing him to see you without a filter; something he knew would be a rare occurrence even among your most trusted friends. He couldn't bring himself to look away from you, or break the fragile peace that had settled over you so he just sat and took you in.

He had never gotten the opportunity to just look over the ink covering your skin. His eyes trailed to the tattoo you kept hidden most of the time, one that he knew was difficult for you. Not just because of the placement but the meaning behind it. He could just barely see it peeking out from under your hair that was in a messy bun. He looked down toward your left arm with the waves, it was so beautiful, the contrast from dark to light stood out against your skin beautifully. The moon in the middle had been highlighted so well that if you looked at it for too long it appeared as if it was actually floating there amongst the waves. As his eyes made it farther down he noticed a tattoo that he hadn’t seen before. He leaned just barely closer to inspect the handwriting that was above your moon tarot tattoo.

Nothing could have prepared him for how hard his heart burst from seeing lyrics to one of their songs tattooed on you. He wanted to ask about it, why those specific lyrics? Whose handwriting was that? How old was the tattoo? Where did you get it? Just everything. He stopped himself though with the reminder of how each of your tattoos had a special meaning, other than the impulsive dragon tattoo. You must have gotten it after something happened, after someone left maybe. That was a set of questions he could ask at another time. He turned his focus back to the legos and started to put more together.

A while later after going back and forth between watching the movie and helping Seonghwa the castle was finished. The smile that adorned his face when you praised his lego making skills melted your heart. “Where do you want to put this?”

“We can bring it into the game room and display it there.” He nodded at you before getting up, he offered you a hand and just like the last time you offered him your arm. He gently pulled you up and before he released you he pecked your lips. You looked at him with a large smile before crouching to grab the tray with the legos on it. Before you could completely grab it it was up and off the floor. You glanced up at Seonghwa and he was grinning like an idiot at you before he started walking off toward the stairs. With a roll of your eyes you followed him. He made it to the game room without a hitch only pausing once as one of the giants ran in front of him to get into the gaming room before him.

With gentle hands and utmost care he transferred the tall Lego set into one of the open places in your cabinet. He took a step back and admired the shelf as a whole. You watched as his eyes caught on the large Millennium Falcon. Eventually, when he has enough room you would have to get him one. “What do you think? Is that a good place or would you like me to move it?”

“I think it is perfect,” He nodded his head at you. With quick movements he poked you and moved back out of the room.

“I’m thinking brownies and ice cream, what about you, dalnim (moon)?” He was already in the kitchen moving around trying to locate something.

“We can do that, but if we do you have to let me do it.” You made your way out to the kitchen and he was standing there with his arms crossed. “What?”

“Where is your brownie mix? Doesn’t it come in a box?” You let out a small snicker and he raised his eyebrows at you.

“Hwa, my sweet summer child. In my house we do not do box mixes of anything, I have a full recipe book for nights like tonight.” You waltzed past him and to the nook where you had hidden the huge binder. Heaving the heavy thing out of its spot near the dumbwaiter you grunted at the heft of it; sometimes you forgot how packed full it was. Really you should have separated things out but where is the fun in that. You walked back into the kitchen to see Seonghwa standing there with his arms crossed still.

“What's going on in that pretty head of yours?”

“Nothing, nothing, just thinking of how I should have let you win so you didn’t have to bake and worry about the pain.”

“Hwa, I have dealt with worse trust me, this is nothing.” His eyes turned somber. Shit wrong thing to say.

“Hwa, it’s okay. Really, it is in my past, I am thousands of miles away from him. Not to mention, I have cats which means he can’t get near me.” You made your way toward the man standing in your kitchen and gently grabbed his hand. He smiled at you sweetly before pulling you into a hug by your shoulders. The two of you stood there rocking slightly back and forth in a soothing motion.

“I hate that you had to go through that.”

“Me too. I wish it were different but if you think about it, if he wasn’t so horrible to me I wouldn’t be here across the world to get away from him. I would have never met you, and the rest of our boys, my team or made the connections I have today if he wasn’t a dick with a drinking problem.”

That’s true,” He rested his head against yours while you ran your hands up and down his back gently. You separated from him with a small smile and stepped around him to open the binder. You searched for your Granny’s double chocolate brownie recipe. There was a hand at your back and a solid presence at your side, you could feel him staring at your hands while you were turning the pages of the dessert section. You chose to ignore the feeling and continue. After flipping a few more pages you were met with her beloved recipe. It was a good thing you had it in a plastic protective sleeve because if you hadn’t there would have been brownie batter all over it from how often you used the recipe.

You slid the recipe book to be leaning against the lip of the island and started grabbing the necessary ingredients to start. Seonghwa tried to step in and help you but just like he did to you you shushed him out of the way giving him a disapproving click of your tongue. “You won, I’m doing dessert. Sit there and look pretty, supervisory personnel.”

He flopped into the island chair directly behind the recipe book with a huff and started watching you with his chin in his hand. You chuckled at him while you were tying your apron around yourself, you washed your hands before starting to measure things out and separate them into the dry and wet ingredients.

“Y’know, being able to do something like this has always been one of my dreams.”

“Like what exactly?”

“Being able to be domestically in love. Baking for someone I cherish and love so deeply. Having a day like this in general where I don’t have to worry about putting up a front that I am totally okay.”

“You will never have to pretend with me, or any of us. I know you have had a harsh few days, and I could never ask you to just be happy go lucky and not feel the hard emotions.”

“Thank you, that means a lot to me,” You moved away from him and toward the fridge. At a glance you couldn’t see what you were looking for, after thinking about it you remembered you had to hide it behind things so it wouldn’t get stolen by Willow. After digging around at the beck of the fridge you pulled out a bottle of strawberry wine. You grabbed two glasses from the cupboard and the automatic corkscrew before setting a glass down in front of Seonghwa. He was watching you with curiosity as you popped the corkscrew on the top of the bottle and pushed a button. The small machine whirred and you waited until you heard a small pop to take it off and remove the cork. As soon as you had it in your hands you moved toward the large wire wine bottle that held all of your wine corks. You plunked the cork into it before coming back over and pouring some wine in both of your glasses.

You offered Seonghwa your glass to make a toast. “What are we toasting to?”

“To us, and being our true selves with each other.”

“To us, and the other seven hooligans.” You giggled as he clinked his glass against yours. You took a sip of the wine and hummed in satisfaction, a similar noise came out of the man in front of you. Setting your glass to the side you continued making the brownies. When you were finished pouring the chocolaty goodness into one of your baking pans you dropped some chocolate chips on the top of it and set it in the oven to bake. When you turned around you caught Seonghwa with his phone out taking a picture of you with a small smile. Your phone pinged a minute later and then immediately kept going off after. With a shake of your head you moved over to grab your phone.

You felt the smile creep onto your face while looking at the responses to the photo Seonghwa sent of you; always so dramatic. Seonghwa snorted at their responses and turned off his phone. You moved from where you stood at the island over to the mixing bowl you used; you grabbed it and brought it around the island to Seonghwa. He was watching you curiously, you procured the small spatula you used to mix the batter and held it out to him. His eyes widened and a smile broke out across his face; he gently took it from you and tasted the batter. If his eyes could have gotten any bigger they would have. With a small chuckle you moved over and dropped the bowl into the sink to wash out later.

A few minutes later you and Seonghwa were sitting on the floor in front of the oven with your wine glasses next to you and the giants strewn across the kitchen floor. The two of you were just scrolling on your phones and glancing up every once in a while to see the progress of the brownies you were impatiently waiting for. You took another swig of your wine and hummed. The warmth surrounding you wasn’t just because of the alcohol or the oven you were sitting in front of, it was because of the man sitting next to you and the ones that had not stopped asking for updates on the brownies. This kind of warmth is something you hadn’t felt since you did the same thing with your Granny while you were younger and escaping from the everyday life of an abusive father.

Seonghwa leaned his head against your shoulder and you came out of the small transe you had fallen into. With slow movements you leaned your head against his and let out a small content sigh. “This kind of peace in my fast paced life needs to come to me more often.”

Seonghwa hummed his agreement and started lightly playing with your fingers. A couple seconds later he broke the comfortable silence “It’s odd seeing you without rings on.”

“It’s odd not wearing them, it makes me feel naked.” He let out a small chuckle while he gently ran his fingers over yours where the multitude of rings generally sat. You looked down at your hands, they looked so horrible compared to his soft and unmarred skin. Gently you took your hands away from his, not being able to stand the sight of something so dark compared to his light. His head snapped up to look at you and before you could say anything he intervened.

“Don't pull away from me my moon,” He gently grabbed your wrists so he could continue what he was doing. “I see you, I see you letting your mind run amok, you don’t need to worry about whatever it is you are thinking because it isn’t true.”

You stayed silent next to him, letting everything he was doing overrun your declining thoughts. He was being so gentle with you, like you were porcelain. The way his fingers lightly trailed up your arm and to the tattoos you had decorated your skin with. He was tracing the outlines of the waves across your forearm, seemingly memorizing what the tattooed and scarred skin felt like. His thumb was lightly going over a couple of the more raised scars you had on your arm. You glanced up at him and he wasn’t looking at you with pity like most others did when they beheld your scars. He was looking at you like he was taking in every brushstroke of a precious masterpiece. “These tell a story you know.”

You almost startled at his small words among the small humming of the appliances in the kitchen. “They tell a story of a warrior who despite everything thrown in her path withheld the storm of life. They show how strong you are, how you didn’t give up no matter how hard everything got.”

For the first time in your life you looked down to the scars and didn’t feel the shame of what you had done creeping up the back of your neck. You didn’t feel the twisting in your gut even just glancing at them among the waves and cameras. You looked at them and saw a piece of your story, a piece of what had made you who you are today. Your past was your past, and it made you who you are and who you will be.

★☆☽ O ☾☆★

About thirty minutes later the timer you had set on your phone went off. You and Seonghwa looked at each other before scrambling up to get the oven mitts. You were grinning as you pulled out the brownies and set them on the stovetop. Seonghwa was practically bouncing with joy beside you. “Love, why don’t you grab some strawberries and anything you want to decorate the brownies with.”

He was immediately moving through the kitchen toward the fridge. You watched him with a large grin as he started setting several things onto the island counter. He was snagging all of the things he could get his hands on, whipped cream, strawberries, caramel, chocolate syrup, vanilla ice cream, strawberry ice cream and even some more chocolate chips. While he was searching through everything you moved to grab a small spatula and the ice cream scoop. As soon as you had them you set them on the counter alongside his pile of goodies.

“We should be good to get into the brownies once they cool down just a bit,” His responding nod was close to frantic as he closely watched you poke a toothpick into the brownies from over your shoulder. He was just sitting there holding you against his chest as you checked multiple spots to see if the brownies were cooked thoroughly.

“I can’t wait to try these, they look and smell amazing.” As he quietly spoke you could feel his breath cascading over your ear. A small shiver went up your spine and you melted into him.

After just a couple more minutes of waiting you started to cut into the brownies. Seonghwa started looking around for plates and when he found the perfect ones he made a noise of triumph. With a quick glance you saw that he had pulled out two of your shallow pasta bowls. He brought them over and you gently placed a large brownie on top of it. His responding grin was immediate before he held out the other one. The two of you moved in harmony as you were plating things up, he ended up using everything he sat out and you had picked and chose a few things for yours. Before you had added the final piece to your culinary masterpiece you sprayed some of the whipped cream into your mouth.

A small camera shutter caught your attention and Seonghwa was grinning at you while you looked at him momentarily shocked. “What? You looked cute.”

You rolled your eyes at him and sprayed some of your whipped cream on the top of your brownie. As soon as you were finished you walked around the island and sat next to him just like you had been earlier. The two of you ate your sugar filled dessert in relative silence. When you finished your heaping plate you slid it away from you and leaned back patting your stomach. “I could over eat those brownies every time I make them.”

“After having them I see why, they came out so good.” He sat back and looked over toward you. Without even thinking you reached out and brushed a small bit of chocolate away from the corner of his mouth. His breath hitched and he froze at your gentle care. It took you a couple of tries to get the chocolate completely away from his mouth but when you did you smiled at him with a tilt of your head.

In an instant his mouth was on yours. The initial shock of the moment faded away and you melted into him. The kiss was sweet, claiming; and loving. All of the emotions he was harboring had been let out into the kiss, you could feel how he was holding himself back from you with the way his lips moved against yours. His hands were on your cheeks stroking his thumbs over your cheekbones. You could taste the caramel and chocolate on his lips as he kissed you. He was moving perfectly in sync with you as he took the lead. He stood up off his chair without breaking the kiss, your head was tilted back and his hands had moved just slightly to cup more of the back of your head and neck. It was dizzying how he held you.

You finally let yourself move from your frozen position with your hands in your lap. Your hands moved to his slim waist and you let your thumbs slide against the tiny sliver of skin that was exposed where his shirt rode up. He sighed against you and moved to stand closer to you, he had pressed himself to stand between your knees. His hands had moved with quick efficiency to tug the black scrunchie out of your hair. As soon as your hair fell his hands were threading through it, he gave a small tug at your roots and you let out a gasp. He took the opportunity to pull away from you and look you over. His hand was still in your hair and you were looking up at him with curious slightly widened eyes.

He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear and cupped your face with his other hand. “I could do that forever.”

“Then what’s stopping you?” His eyes changed and he was moving quicker than your slightly foggy brain could process. He had stood you up and started leading you over to the couch in the great room. Without breaking eye contact he set himself down and tugged you with him. You landed softly with your knees on either side of his thighs.

“You are so beautiful,” His hand moved to settle itself on the back of your neck before he pulled you back into a burning kiss. Your hands found their way into his hair and you tugged lightly at the roots like he had done with you not even a minute ago. A small groan escaped him and he kissed you harder. His hands started roaming across your exposed skin; it was like fire igniting across your entire body. He lightly massaged your sides before letting his hands travel upwards. He let his hands roll over your chest and you shuttered at the heat that shot up your spine. Your responding gasp as he squeezed made you and him separate. His mouth trailed down the column of your neck he was trying to find the spot that would make you see stars. Not even a second later he attached his lips to the juncture of your jaw and neck right close to your pulse point. A shuttered gasp left you as he lightly let his teeth skim over the spot before reattaching to you and leaving his mark on your skin. He let his hand travel to the back of your neck to pull you closer to him. You expected him to kiss you again, but instead he brought your forehead to his and just sat there with closed eyes. His restraint was astounding as he sat there, his breath coming out in small ragged pants.

“My turn,” his eyes flew open to stare at you, you were wearing a small grin before you closed the gap between the two of you. He let you lead this time while he sank further into the couch cushions; his entire body was pliant under you as you kissed him. Your hands had moved from his hair to cup the sides of his neck, his hands fell to your hips and he gripped you like he was trying not to float away. You pressed your thumbs under his jaw to tilt his head up before detaching yourself from his lips. You looked down at him, His neck was exposed to you and begging for someone to mark it up, his pupils were blown wide and his parted lips were a pretty shade of pink and very kiss swollen.

“Pretty.” His throat bobbed and his pulse stuttered under your hands as you complimented him. “You like being called pretty?”

He was nodding the best he could with your hands situated against his neck with your thumbs just under his chin. “Use your words pretty boy, I want to hear your voice.”

“Yes, I love it.” You couldn’t hold back your responding grin.

“Good,” You moved toward him again placing a kiss on his adams apple before trailing toward the spot he had used on you. A small whimper came out of his throat as you left a lingering kiss right under his chin. You continued down the side of his neck and when you got to the juncture between his shoulder and neck you lightly nipped at the skin there; not enough to leave anything but a small red mark for the time being. His hands tightened on your waist while he lightly squirmed at the feeling of your lips on his neck. You separated yourself from him and he was just watching you with his bottom lip between his teeth, you could see the lingering look of almost frustration in his eyes. He wanted more, you could see it in the set of his jaw and feel it in the grip he had on your hips.

“How I wish I could mark up your pretty neck without getting in trouble.” You trailed your nails down the side of his neck lightly as you spoke, his head tilted to lean on the back of the couch.

“You would like that wouldn’t you, pretty boy? Me marking you up for the other boys to see.”

“Yes,” his voice was nearly a rasp as he responded to your question. He was so close to trembling that you wondered how much more teasing he would be able to take. You let your hands travel downwards toward his pecs before letting your nails rake back over the soft fabric of his tee. He jerked under you, and before you could do anything else he pulled you down to sit fully on his lap. You could feel every inch of him below you, without any warning he bucked his hips up to meet yours. The breath was knocked out of your lungs as you felt him where you hadn’t even realized you needed him most. His head rolled farther back as he arched himself into you. Before your brain could catch up with your body you moved against him. He let out a broken gasp and immediately opened his eyes to glance at you. “Please.”

Your hands made their way to settle at the base of his neck to make him look at you fully. He moved without any hesitance as you guided him to look you in the eye. “Please, what, pretty boy?”

“Please stop teasing.” Your grin was bordering wicked as you watched him just barely struggle to get some kind of friction against where he ached the most.

“You want me to take care of you? To take you apart piece by piece? To leave marks where only me and our boys get to see?”

“Please.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely, I think I can do that.”

★☆☽ O ☾☆★

The two of you laid on the couch in a comfortable silence. Seonghwa was caressing your bare back as you laid on top of him listening to his heartbeat. You startled against his warm chest when an alarm went off somewhere near the kitchen. Separating yourself from his warm embrace you made your way over to the kitchen on wobbly legs. When you reached your phone you shut off the alarm and turned toward Seonghwa who was sitting up and looking at you over the back of the couch. “What’s that for?”

“I set it for one of the surprises I mentioned earlier.” He got up off the couch and made his way over to you. You took a minute to look over him as he approached, you were proud of your handiwork. His chest and collarbones were covered in small darkening marks and there was one hidden right behind his ear that was easily covered by his hair. What you were most proud of however was the light red marks you knew were down his back, the ones he had reacted to the most.

When he got close enough he wrapped his arms around you. The heat of his bare skin seeped into you as he held you gently. You closed your eyes and let him control the hug he was giving you. “You are something else.”

“I hope that’s a compliment,” His responding chuckle reverberated against you.

“It is, so tell me yeobo (Darling) what’s this surprise you have an alarm set for?” He separated himself from you and settled his hands on your hips running small circles on your skin.

“You’ll have to wait and see pretty,” His ears and face almost immediately turned a light shade of red at the nickname. “Come on, let's get changed and then I can show you.”

You walked away from him and started making your way up the stairs. When you made it into your room you looked at your bare form in the mirror. You had darkening hickies all over your chest, a couple on either side of your throat, and one stray one right below the lyric tattoo. He had paid special attention to your inked handwriting as he worshipped you. With a small shake of your head, and the lingering thought you were dating a vampire, you stepped into the closet to grab a swimsuit. You found your third and final swimsuit stuffed toward the back of the drawer. Grabbing it you put it on and walked out of the closet to make your way down the stairs.

When you reached the last step you could hear Seonghwa’s muffled voice in the direction of the bathroom. You stepped closer and listened intently, he was speaking in hushed tones behind the closed door. “Wooyoung, you cannot and will not crash our date night. You can wait until you get the balls enough to ask her out on a proper date.”

You heard the younger man whining through the phone that was presumably on speaker. “I don’t care that you love brownies and want to have some, you will stay home and let me have this or so help me god I will call Jongho and have him make you stay home.”

You covered your mouth with your hand trying to suppress the giggle that was bubbling up your throat. Another round of whining sounded from behind the door, and even you had enough of it. You tapped your fingers on the door and opened it to see Seonghwa leaning against the sink staring at the phone. His gaze moved to yours as you stepped into the room, his jaw dropped slightly as you fully stepped into the bathroom. Before he could even move or utter another word you stepped toward him and grabbed the phone and turned it into a video call. Wooyoung immediately showed his face to the camera, still whining on the other end while looking elsewhere; he hadn’t even noticed you yet. Seonghwa stepped close to you and put his chin on your shoulder wondering what you were up to.

“Now Youngie, why can’t you ask me on a date? Are you worried that you might not be able to handle me by yourself?” You turned the camera to face the mirror so he could see the two of you. Wooyoung’s gaze immediately snapped down to the phone and Yeosang popped into the frame as well. Both of their mouths hung open while they took the sight of you and Seonghwa covered in hickies while in your swimsuits. The silver chains adorning your swimsuit stood out beautifully against your tattooed skin. Not to mention the sight of a dark hickey in the valley of your chest; which was perfectly silhouetted by the silver circles connecting the fabric of your top. Both of the boys on the phone were practically drooling.

“Yah, why are you two staring at the phone like that, are you watching something you shouldn’t be?” Yunho’s voice carried from across the room and the padding of feet against tile could be heard as he approached. As soon as he caught sight of what the other boys were gaping at he understood. The three of them were stunned into silence as they beheld the sight on Wooyoung’s phone. One by one the remaining boys had appeared and gaped, even Hongjoong stepped into the frame. You turned to look at Seonghwa who was wearing a small smirk at their reactions.

“Wanna mess with them?” You placed a kiss just under his jaw as you asked just loud enough for Seonghwa to catch. He gave you an almost imperceptible nod and you grinned like the joker.

“Go ahead and turn around, pretty boy.” You just barely caught the small flush adorning his face as he turned his back toward the mirror. Some of the boys on the screen gasped and others groaned. You finally got the opportunity to take in the damage you had done to his back. The red lines cascaded down the length of his back and a couple of them had disappeared under the waistline of his swimsuit. Some of them were more visible than others but you knew that they would be gone within a day, if not sooner.

“Now that you’ve had a peek at what you are missing by being too scared to ask me on a date I will be hanging up and spending more time with my star. Goodnight, we love you.” You blew a kiss to the mirror and hung up the call while the other boys protested.

“You’re an absolute menace.” Seonghwa turned around and wrapped his arm around your waist.

“And yet, you still love me.” He laughed and lightly bit your shoulder. You grinned at him before stepping away and out the door. He followed you through your house like a puppy. When you made it to the back door you left it open so the giants could wander out behind you. It had cooled down enough to be manageable but it was still warm enough to do what you wanted to. Leaving all of the lights off you made your way to the side of the pool where your giant floaty was.

After a couple of minutes you finally got the floaty to be completely aired up, you thanked past you for getting a small automatic pump so you didn’t have to do this by hand. As soon as you were ready you set the floaty into the pool and held it close with your hand. “Hwa, you get on first and I will follow.”

He nodded at you and carefully clambered onto the floaty. When you were sure that he was stable you let it go. You made your way over to your phone and connected to the plethora of speakers before turning on some quieter songs. The music echoed through the area and you were grinning as you set your phone down and took a running start to get into the water. Seonghwa let out a squeal as the water splashed over him. Just as you broke the surface of the water you saw what you were looking for. A faint streak of light had shot across the night sky. With quick efficiency you made your way over to the floaty and heaved yourself onto it.

Seonghwa looked at you with raised eyebrows and you pointed to the night sky. Just as he looked away from you another streak went across the sky. A small gasp left him and he immediately turned to look at you to make sure you saw it as well. You nodded at him, your eyes never leaving the night sky. “It’s a small meteor shower, one that not many people knew about. I thought it would be the perfect way to end our date night.”

Seonghwa tugged you closer to him on the floaty, “it’s perfect.”

The two of you watched as the night sky moved. You were pointing out several constellations and telling him what you knew about them. He was listening intently, watching you more than the sky you were pointing to. Every time you pointed out a new constellation he glanced at where you were pointing and then his gaze moved immediately back to you. Once in a while you would see a falling star and each time you felt Seonghwa squeeze your shoulder. “How do you know so much about the stars?”

Your heart warmed at the memory, “My Papa was an astronomer. Him, my Granny, and I used to stay up late just to see the stars when I was over at their house each weekend. He showed me all of the constellations and gave me many books about the stars which I still have today. All of the books in my bedroom are from him.”

“That’s amazing, I might have to peek at some of the books one of these days.”

“You are more than welcome to, he absolutely loved being able to share his knowledge.” You could still picture his face when you would ask him specific questions about some of the star maps he had in his office. The way he would light up was something you could never forget.

“He used to call me his moon just like my Granny did, in fact, if I remember correctly he was the one who started it and my Granny liked it so much that she was the one who consistently used it.” Seonghwa hummed in acknowledgment while you spoke. The two of you sat in silence while the world around you continued moving, the chirps of crickets and the rustling of some of the nocturnal animals was the only noise other than the running water of the pool.

What only felt like minutes later you caught your eyes drooping. Seonghwa had been running his hand over your arm as you laid there floating around the pool, the soothing motion nearly putting you to sleep. “Hwa, I’m getting tired.”

You felt him shift before he slipped off the floaty and started pushing it over to the side of the pool. He hopped out and before you could even move he was squatting as close to the edge of the pool as he could get and scooping you up and off the floaty. You let out a small noise of protest as he picked you up. “I can walk myself into the house.”

His grip just tightened around you as he walked up toward the house. You reluctantly wrapped your arms around him and rested against his chest. He somehow had gotten both doors open without jostling you too much. Then he made quick work of the stairs before setting you down on the counter in the bathroom. “Stay here, I’ll grab some clothes.”

He disappeared out the door and it took him a couple of minutes to reappear. When he did he was completely dressed and smiling at you softly. He was gentle as he helped you out of your swimsuit making sure to avoid knocking into your hands as he took it off your arms. After getting your swimsuit top off he put a large shirt over your head and helped you put your arms through. He gently helped you off the counter and continued on his mission, with quick movements your bottoms were off and he was sliding shorts up your legs. You were too delirious to even realize that you weren't wearing your own clothes. He led you to the bed and helped you get tucked in before disappearing again.

You were struggling to keep your eyes open while you waited for him. He returned about ten minutes later and cooed at you. “I thought you would have fallen asleep by now, love.”

“Can’t sleep without someone anymore.” His heart stuttered and his grin faltered at the raw honesty in your voice. He also may have loved your raspy sleepy voice.

“Well, we can't have you not sleeping, can we?” He slipped between the covers, took off your glasses, and turned off the lights with the remote above your head. You cuddled as close to him as you could and fell into dreamland almost immediately. He looked over you while tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. The semicolon tattoo peeked out from under your hair and offered him a small reminder of how lucky he was to have you. He fell asleep cradling you as close as he could with a small smile on his face.

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

Next Chapter (Chapter 26 Coming Soon)

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latisthegenderfluidwannabealone · 2 days ago

Text

Blood Sugar Virus (37)

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Genre: Horror, zombies, strangers to lovers, angst, suspense, slow burn Pairing: Kang Yeosang x female!reader Warnings: based on the Wanteez Zombie episode, zombies, language, discussion of parasites, gore, angst, heavy topics, suggestive content

Story Summary: You (stage name Sugar) are the co-captain of a horror acting group. You and your guys are the ones the companies hire when they want to stage a zombie, ghost, or any vaguely horrific and dystopian episode. So when you get hired by Ateez to develop a zombie program, it's just another routine that you've done a million times. Everything's going exactly according to script--until suddenly it isn't, and it starts getting a little too real.

🏆 Esteemed Moot: @ramadiiiisme

⭐️ Reader Spotlight: @mrsminseochoi

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“We have to get out of here.” You’re sitting on the teacher’s desk, watching the door shudder under the heavy pounding of the zombies outside. It’s a needless statement of the obvious, except that it’s the third floor team that you’re thinking about.

You still haven’t put eyes on Namjoon, Seonghwa, or Hongjoong.

“Wait, you sent the guys down to the first floor?” You realize with a delayed start. “There are zombies down there. There are parasites.”

Yeosang is at the hall window, one knee propped up on one of the short bookshelves to see through the glass. He glances at you, eyebrows raised. “They can deal with them.” He says carefully. “If we can do it, they can do it. They are capable of taking care of themselves without you.” He’s not saying it to be demeaning, but to be reassuring.

“I know they can.” You mutter. “I just don’t want them to have to.”

His gaze softens. “I know. But they can handle it.”

You pick at torn edges of your sleeve. “We gotta get out of here.” You say again.

Yeosang turns back to the window. “Yeah…you’re not gonna like my idea for that.”

Your eyebrows lift sarcastically. “There’s not a whole lot about this night so far that I have liked.” Your fingers poke through the first aid kit, sifting through a few more packets of Tylenol, antibiotics, anti inflammatory pastes, and more band-aids than anyone could ever need.

“Well, sure, but given your whole entomophobia thing, you’re really not gonna like this.”

Your hands freeze. “Unless it involves fashioning some kind of flamethrower with a bit of MacGyver ingenuity, I say we stick your idea in the special filing cabinet.” You kick a wire wastebasket towards him.

It bounces harmlessly off the bookshelf under him and rolls away.

“You haven’t even heard it yet.”

“I trust your judgment. I hate it.”

He tosses you a toothy grin over his shoulder and then presses the pad of his index finger against the glass, pointing at something you can’t see. “Since we’ve been in here, six zombies have hatched.“

Your expression twists in disgust. “Your powers of description are just a touch too evocative, thank you very much.”

“Remember that when you’re looking for writers for your new programs.” He quips smartly. “But you know what I mean. And—like that—” he gestures at something out in the hallway again. “Another one just went down.”

You don’t get up to look.

If you never see another wasp again, you’ll consider your life a success.

“How many are left?” You ask. You bring your hand to your shoulder, gingerly feeling the bandage over your first bite. It’s soaked through. So is the one on your hip. The one on your arm never even got a bandage. Blood still drips down the length of your forearm, trickling over the back of your hand.

“I can’t see all of them, but,” he pauses to count. “I see sixteen? Maybe seventeen?”

“That’s a lot.” You mutter.

“Yeah, but they’ll all go down soon. I say we wait it out.”

Your skeptical gaze finds him again. “Are you forgetting that they aren’t just falling over dead?” You don’t favor the idea of stepping out into a swarm of parasites. You’re not even wearing shoes. If you try to stomp through them like the guys were doing, you’re going to end up slipping and sliding around in slimy socks.

“Why, what else are they doing?”

“That’s hilarious.”

He chuckles and keeps his eyes on the hoard outside. “The parasites aren’t as bad as the zombies.”

“Kang Yeosang, I think you’ve officially cracked.”

“It was bound to happen eventually.”

You carefully pull your sleeve up over the bite that’s pierced your triceps. It’s a mess. Blood smeared all over your skin, an almost perfect impression of the zombie’s upper and lower rows of teeth sunken into your flesh. Even so, it’s the best of all your bites. There’s minimal tearing, it’s not ripped open and raw, and you can still extend your arm with only severe discomfort, as opposed to the decimation of the flesh and muscle over your hip that burns with every step.

“God, this is disgusting.” You mutter. “You know how much bacteria the human mouth has? And who knows who else this guy bit before he got to me. There could be someone else’s blood in here. It’s gonna get all infected and gross and I’m gonna have to cut my arm off.”

He glances over, grimacing at the wound you’re examining. “I love it when you talk dirty to me.”

“Keep talking, funny guy, it’s all going in the report.”

“Oh, shit, am I getting blacklisted?”

“Actually, I’m starting a whole new list for you. An entirely new folder, in your honor.” You hiss through your teeth as you pluck fibers from your sweater away from the teeth marks.

He sighs deeply. “That’s okay, Sugar, I don’t need a VIP folder, that’s so unnecessary. You can just erect a statue of me in your office.”

You snort. “Oh, honey, don’t flatter yourself. I’m thinking more along the lines of Pandora’s Box. Cursed Clients. Bad Luck. Danger—Do Not Open.” You tug one of the unused towels out of your waistband and wipe it down the length of your arm, sopping up streams of crimson, the material gritty and scraping over the wound.

You have to stop for a minute and take a breath as darkness edges into your vision. When the dizziness passes, you go back to cleaning—more gently this time.

“Damn, I got excited there for a minute. I wanted to try your hotel weekend program. Careful, don’t fall off the desk.”

“I’m alright.” You breathe through your teeth. “If I lock myself in a hotel with you, I think whatever monsters I write for it will magically come to life. Sorry, I don’t think I can survive another program with you.”

Mock offense splashes across his face. “With me? I sign up for one program with you, and suddenly there are zombies trying to eat me alive.”

“Excuse you, this has never happened before. My track record for not conjuring up mythical monsters was spotless before you signed that contract.”

“I can’t believe you think I’m the bad luck charm. If anyone, it’s definitely Wooyoung.”

“Has he conjured up zombies before?”

“No, but I swear to god he’s demon possessed.”

You give a pained laugh. “Oh please, Wooyoung is a kitten. He’s a perfect angel, if a bit chaotic at times.”

Yeosang turns wide, disbelieving eyes to you. “Oh my god, you really know nothing about Ateez, don't you?”

You blink back. “Why? What do you mean?” All of your experiences with Wooyoung so far have been a range of light hearted teasing and open affection to raw vulnerability. The sight of him breaking down in the gym locker room, curling into your arms and clinging to you for comfort, will keep him permanently in your heart as a little brother you need to look out for.

You owe him the biggest apology of your life for putting your burden of guilt on his shoulders.

Yeosang laughs at you and focuses back on the zombies. “I can’t believe you bought a Wooyoung version.”

You can’t possibly understand what he’s getting at. You’d already told him that the album had been the last one in stock when you went looking for a copy. “What do you mean? It was pretty.”

“It was pretty?” He repeats, astonished.

There’s no reason to be shocked. The entirety of Ateez is one of the prettiest client groups you’ve ever had. You shrug. “It was a good picture of him.”

He’s quiet for a second, mouth falling open in a wordless protest of your statement. Finally he clicks his teeth together and frowns at you. “If you don’t put Wooyoung and his album cover in your Bad Luck box, I will.”

You can’t believe he’s feeling threatened by Wooyoung after everything you’ve been through with him tonight.

Rolling your eyes, you drop the reddened towel in your lap and search the box for more cleaning wipes, but you’d used them all on Yeosang. Choosing the wound spray instead, you try not to hold your breath as you spritz it over your arm. “You’re cute when you’re jealous.”

“Cute.” He grumbles, but the tips of his ears are red. “I’m not fucking cute. You’d better throw that whole album away before Wooyoung sees it. He’ll never let anybody hear the end of it.”

“I actually think I got one of your photo cards in it, but sure, I can throw the whole thing away.” You shrug. You’re struggling to peel open a bandage and angle your arm to stick it down, but every time you find a good position, the torn muscle spasms and your arm drops. “Dammit.”

“Keep the photo card but give the album to Jimin or something. Wooyoung doesn’t need that ego boost.” Yeosang mutters.

Last time you’d talked about it, he’d seemed giddy over the fact that you’d ’settled for Wooyoung,’ like he couldn’t wait to tell him. This abrupt shift in his opinion only confuses you.

“I need your help putting this on.” You tell him, dropping the bandage in your lap with exasperation.

He leans away from the window, the put on frustration falling from his face, replaced by concern. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just need you to hold it so I can stick it down.” The dizziness is creeping back in every time you try to reach for the affected area, and you need one more hand to secure the bandage.

He clambers down from the bookshelf, cupping a palm to his abdomen at the strain. “Do you want me to put some of the antibiotic paste on it?”

The arm with the bite is trembling so hard you think it might fall out of your shoulder socket. You just want to be done with it so you can go back to ignoring it. “You can do whatever you like, just give me your fingers.”

He smirks at you, but his cheeks are flaming.

Your face matches his as you realize what you’ve said. “Oh shut up. Goddammit, Yeosang, I will hit you, just get over here and help me with this.”

“I’m all yours.” He snickers, smacking you right in the face with the memory of all the other times tonight that you’ve put your big fat foot in your big fat mouth.

“God, are you sure you’re not a fuck boi?”

He comes to stand in front of you, grabbing the bandage from your lap and peeling it open easily. “No, I’m just messing with you. Hold still for me.” His expression drops the playful teasing and he leans forward with furrowed concentration, wrapping his hand around your arm to stabilize it so he can press the bandage over the bite.

While he’s close, you land a light kick to his shin, just to make yourself feel better.

The corners of his lips tilt up. “I told you to stop moving.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll be good.” You fall still, feeling your spasming arm twitch in his grasp, and you try to focus on relaxing your taught muscles. “I thought you were shy. You used to be shy.”

He laughs softly. “I’m just messing with you. Your nonexistent brain to mouth filter makes it easy.”

“I have been eaten alive, give me a break.”

“Fair enough.” He smooths down the sticky edges of the bandage and leans back, satisfied. “There. That should do for about five minutes.”

You snort in agreement and pull your sleeve down carefully.

He pats your knee and goes back to the shelf, hopping up to peer through the window. After a second of counting, he lets out a breath of relief. “Only ten left. Nope, nine.”

Pulling down the elastic waist of your sweatpants, you peel off the dirty bandage from your hip and stick a new one on. “Do you think there’s an award for having the most zombie bites?”

“Your competitiveness appears at the strangest times.”

“I should start working on my speech.” You slide off the desk and gather up your duffel bag.

“Make sure you get someone to proofread it.” Yeosang teases. “And stick to the cards. I’m not entirely confident in your improv, given some of the lines I’ve heard tonight.”

You chuck an empty wrapper from the medical supplies at him. “I am a fucking actor. My entire life is improv.”

He shrugs. “I’m just saying.”

“You’re not funny.”

“I’ll be here all night.” He brightens at the sight of something in the corridor. “Six left.”

“Why don’t you go back to being shy?”

“Jesus, you’re hard to please.” When he glances over to find you glaring, he releases a rolling chuckle behind his hand and the playful arrogance seeps out of his posture. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry.”

He’s back to ducking your eye contact, cheeks reddening, body curling away from your disapproving frown.

“Go back to monitoring the zombies.”

He fixes his eyes obediently on the window. “Okay, sorry.” But he’s still laughing, his toothy smile still visible from where you’re standing behind him.

“Are you always this cheeky?” You mutter. “You think I don’t know that we have your mom as your emergency contact? I will call your mother.” You zip up your duffel bag and pull together the broken ends of the straps to tie it around your waist.

He shakes his head, a visible flush crawling up his throat. “No, I’m not, I swear I’m not. Don’t call my mom.”

It only takes a few more minutes before there isn’t a single zombie left standing in the hallway. You’re perched on the bookshelf next to Yeosang, watching the floor outside positively crawl with a swarming mass of blueish black wasps.

“There’s the life cycle.” Yeosang muses. “If we hadn’t turned the cameras, the military would have seen the next phase of their experiment.”

You can hear the hesitation in his voice, the question that wonders if they would have been satisfied to see the parasites vacated their hosts. “They won’t let us live, not since we know what they’ve done to us.” You already knew this, but saying it out loud puts a tremble in your voice. “They’re not going to let us out when they’re ready to conclude the experiment. The fact that they don’t know likely gives us more time to figure out our exit before they decide to clean up their mess.”

He turns to you with wide eyes, like he hadn’t fully considered the idea that the military wouldn’t just pack up and roll out when they’re done. “You think they’re gonna kill us.”

“Kill us. Hide us away and continue their experiments on us until we die. You don’t infest your own citizens with monster parasites and then let the survivors go home and talk about it.” You murmur hatefully. “Of course, I don’t know that for sure. Maybe they’re waiting for us on the other side with hot food and a pat on the back.”

When you offer the insincere alternative, he only looks more certain of your assumptions. “God, they’re planning to kill us.”

At the fearful anxiety in his expression, you bring your hand to his arm and squeeze comfortingly. “We’ll figure it out. One way or another, I’ll make sure you get home.” His frown lands on you, and you smile calmly. “Let’s get out of here, yeah?”

Before he can say anything, you climb off the bookshelf and move towards one of the doors. That same crippling terror is rising in your chest again at the anticipation of going out there with all the insects, cramping painfully in your gut.

“I need a broom handle or something to stab bugs with.” You muse, glancing around the room. There’s a broom in the closet, you already know, but if you can find anything better than a measly rod of wood, you’d rather take that.

The room is fairly bare. Shelves, desks, chairs, outdated books. You don’t fancy loading yourself down with an armful of books and chucking them uselessly at giant bugs.

Yeosang flips a desk upside down.

He grips one of the legs, attempting to wiggle it to see how loose it is. It’s bolted in solidly.

He starts pulling at it.

“Yeo, that’s metal.” You state drily. “You can’t bust it off like the wooden chair.”

“It’s aluminum.” He corrects you.

“Aluminum is metal.”

He huffs at your very firm grasp of the obvious. “Aluminum is a soft metal.”

“Sure, but you can’t—“

He braces his legs and flexes his arm in a long, slow pull. The leg bends.

“Oh.”

He turns his body and bends the leg back in the other direction with impressive effort.

“Well, shit.” You mutter. “I didn’t know I was locked in here with Captain America. Are you one of those guys who rolls up frying pans?”

He pauses, glancing at you. “You can roll up a frying pan?”

“You probably can, I can’t.”

His lips purse thoughtfully. “I should try that.” He spends a minute bending the metal desk leg from one direction to the other, until the curved end of it is warped and pinched with stress. You watch in amazement as the metal softens, and he’s soon wagging it back and forth as easily as if it’s on a joint.

After a few minutes, he kneels lower and flexes the hollow leg all the way down to the floor, and it snaps right off.

“Damn.” You whistle. “Not to use you as a hunk of muscle or anything, but can you break off one of those for me?”

His resulting smile is almost embarrassed as he extends it to you. “That’s what it’s for.”

God, get you a man who will break metal with his bare hands so you can have a weapon.

“Kang Yeosang, I think I love you.”

He blushes instantaneously, whipping his head away from you to hide his face. “Please just take it.”

The metal is warm and light beneath your hands, the broken end pinched and sharp. “This is perfect. It won’t break when I’m swinging and stabbing, will it?”

Yeosang shakes his head, kneeling next to the three-legged desk again. “No, it’s just brittle when it bends too much. It should hold up pretty well against impact.”

You give a few experimental swings of your weapon, now more confident in your chances. It’s not very long, but if you have to crouch a little to kill wasps with it, it’s still better than just trying to kick at them with your socked feet.

“Do you want one of my shoes?” He wonders as he works on softening another leg. “Might give you more to work with.”

Your face scrunches with distaste. “Running down the hall in one clown shoe will not increase my chances of survival.”

He looks almost offended. “My shoes are not that big.”

“You are a head taller than me. If I put on one of your shoes it’s going to get me killed.”

“Alright, jeez, forget I offered.”

“I will, thanks.”

The next desk leg snaps off with a metallic clunk. He stands, twirling the tube between his fingers. “Alright, I’m ready.”

For a second you just watch him flip it like a staff, as though he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. “Now you’re just showing off.”

His eyebrows lift, surprise in his eyes. “I’m not!”

“Whatever. Let’s go.”

There’s no way to know how many of the parasites are just outside the door, since it runs along a track in the floor and doesn’t leave a gap. “If you get the door,” you swallow your choking trepidation. “I’ll catch any that try to come through.”

He bounces the end of his pipe from his finger tips to his palm, grasping it firmly—definitely showing off. “Let’s do it the other way around. I’m the one wearing the clown shoes.”

You’re about a second away from chewing him out for his attitude when your brain finally decides to be useful. “Wait, wait, wait.”

He freezes. “What.” His eyes trace your injuries, like he’s waiting for you to pass out or throw up or something. “What’s wrong?”

“We keep duct tape in the closets for emergency repairs.” You say excitedly. There were about a dozen programs featuring untimely broken props before your team started stockpiling rolls upon rolls of tape to remedy potentially embarrassing situations. “Namjoon can’t touch anything without breaking it.”

They had come especially in handy when props kept falling apart in Han Jisung’s hands.

Yeosang just stares at you. “That’s great, Sugar.”

At the look he’s giving you, like he’s trying to remember the address of the closest mental hospital, you wave your hand desperately. “No, no, I haven’t lost my mind, I swear. What if we wrap our arms and legs with pages from the books? To prevent being stung?”

His mouth fall open with delight. “Oh my god, that’s brilliant.”

“I’ll get the tape.” You hobble over to the closet as he starts ripping thick sections of pages out of the books on the shelves, piling them in stacks on one of the desks.

Ten minutes later, you look like a low-budget paintball team, your lower legs and forearms wrapped densely with stiff layers of paper and duct tape. When you’re done attaching your armor, he grins at you. “Have you survived a zombie apocalypse before, or are these just things you’ve come up with for your stories?”

Both options are laughable. “You think I make my clients do paper mache in the middle of horror programs?”

He shrugs. “I’m just saying, the towel thing and the book armor seem surprisingly resourceful for a situation you’ve never been in before.”

“You got me. I planned all of this. I started the zombie apocalypse and I’m the only one who knows how to survive it.”

When you finally position yourself at the door, you can hear the scratching and screaming of hard insect legs on the other side. You’ve probably developed a heart condition by now with all of the debilitating fear your body keeps going through.

Swallowing thickly, you meet his eyes.

He’s braced on the other side of the doorway, aluminum rod clenched tightly in both hands. He nods at you.

You unlatch the door and slide it back slowly, as quietly as you can. It rattles and creaks, and you hear a few excited squeaks from outside as some of the parasites notice.

One of them creeps inquisitively over the threshold, and pauses. Yeosang waits. He won’t set the swarm off by killing only one insect before you even have enough space to escape the classroom.

You keep edging the door back.

The parasite moves slowly into the room, followed by another.

They haven’t locked on you or Yeosang yet, so you keep your eyes on them and give the door another tug.

There’s enough room for you to slip out now, so you let go of the handle.

Yeosang beckons you toward him.

Stepping away from the door on your tiptoes, you manage to avoid the attention of the two parasites until you’re just about to reach the hall.

One of them turns suddenly, shrieking as it notices you, and then, like a buzzer signaling the start of a race, the entire swarm comes alive.

Both parasites dart towards you, and on reflex you bring your desk leg down hard on the head of the first one. It crushes with a squeal. The second one falls under amother blow, but when you turn to see where Yeosang is, you find him in the hallway, stabbing and stomping at the writhing carpet of insects.

Your stomach turns, but you go after him.

He’s practically playing hopscotch, bringing down a foot on the back of a wasp with every step, instead of looking for open spaces to walk.

His rod stabs at the ground so quickly that after a second it’s got a stack of three impaled wasps hanging off of it like a kebab.

The little creatures are rushing at you, thumping against the makeshift armor on your legs like flies bouncing off a window, and when you try to kick them off, their spindly legs lock into the fibers of your socks and cling to your feet.

“Oh god.” You fling your legs out in a panic, tying to loose the parasites from your socks. “Shit, they’re sticking.” When they don’t come free, you give up and start stomping. The ones on the tops of your feet go along for the ride, but the ones that have curled under squish disgustingly beneath your feet.

There are so many of them.

You remember the hoard of zombies that followed you, you can see their bodies piled in sprawled heaps all around you, but the number of insects seems like so many more.

Fear feels like poison in your veins as they try to crawl up your legs, and your movements turn jerky with panic.

Yeosang is faring better, swinging his desk leg and crushing parasites beneath his shoes, making far more headway than you are.

You fling yourself back and slam your legs into the wall to knock the parasites off. It jars your bones and bruises your knees, but as soon as you smash one set of bugs, another is crawling up your legs.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You had been way too optimistic about taking on a swarm of parasites.

You’re swinging your weapon with abandon, bashing your own legs and scraping the insects with little to no effect.

You’d been all set to die in a dramatic zombie attack, but now you’re going to die in a pile of bugs like an Indiana Jones villain.

Yeosang is trying to make his way back towards you, kicking swaths of insects out of his way, only for them to hit the floor running with renewed vigor.

You feel one of them creep up past your textbook armor and cling to your thigh, and a scream tears from your throat. You grab it with your bare hand, hurling it as far as you can.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

You’re very quickly becoming useless.

The apprehension of squishing around in insect guts has fled you, and now you’re slamming your heels down left and right, cracking through the hard shells of their backs.

You can feel prickly legs crawling up the back of your leg, and your entire body shudders as you twist yourself to snatch it up in your hand and slam it as hard as you can against the wall.

Slime coats your palm.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

“Come this way,” Yeosang tells you. “Just come through them, come to me.”

You wade through the swarm toward him, stabbing at the parasites as you go. They’re stuck to your feet, clinging to your armor, scuttling up closer to your thighs. “Shit—shit—oh god.” You scrape some of them of with your pipe, legs dancing wildly to try to dislodge them.

Many of them are dead by this point. It seems like most of them have been stomped or stabbed to death, but now it seems like most of the surviving ones are crawling up your legs.

Yeosang whacks his pipe against the wall, flinging off the stack of impaled parasites that he’s accumulated, and hands it to you. “Keep stabbing,” he tells you. “Don’t kick me.” And then he’s plucking wasps off of you with his hands, hurling them to the ground and stomping each one as it hits the floor.

Only a few are still scampering around you, and you somehow manage to narrow your focus to a disgusting version of spear fishing, leaving the extermination of your legs to Yeosang.

You catch each one before it reaches him, keeping him clear while he yanks them off of you. Their barbed legs tear the fabric of your socks and pants as they’re ripped from you, but you don’t feel them clambering up your thighs anymore, so you don’t even care.

Your pipes are stacked with parasites almost up to your hands when they finally stop coming.

Yeosang snatches the last one off of you and crushes it beneath his shoe.

“Are they gone?” You whimper, clutching the rods so hard that they’re practically vibrating. “It’s like they’re all over me. Are they gone? Are they in my hair? Oh god.”

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

He takes you by the arms and turns you, patting his hands down your back and shoulders to replace the sensation of skittering little legs. “They’re gone. Nothing on you. No punctures, either.”

The weight of your sigh is almost enough to make your knees buckle. “What about you? Turn around. Let me see.” You drop the rods and spin to face him, scanning him from head to toe. His pants are ripped around the knees, but otherwise he looks clear.

Breathing heavily, you sag against the nearest wall and bring a hand to your face, holding the one that’s covered in bug guts away from you. “Oh god. Never again. I can’t do that again. Goddammit.”

He doubles over, hands braced on his knees, and catches his breath. “Shit, they were all over you. Told you you should have taken one of my shoes.”

“They were stuck to my socks,” you whine, your body still shaking uncontrollably. “Fuck, they crawled up my legs.” The phantom sensation creeps back in, and your feet dance uncomfortably beneath you as though you’re still kicking bugs off.

Please, please don’t cry.

He straightens, gathering the pipes off the floor and scraping the dead wasps off of them. “They’re all gone now. There’s nothing on you, I promise.”

It takes far too much effort to push yourself off the wall and stand on your own two feet. “Thank you.” You tell him. “I was seeing myself at the bottom of the swarm there for a minute.”

He passes your rod back to you. “Let’s avoid that if at all possible.” His words are light, glib, but he’s still panting breathlessly.

You wipe your filthy hand on your pants and try to rid the feeling of disgusting slime from between your fingers. “I think I’d like to die now.”

He gives you an astonished look. “I just worked very hard to prevent that, thank you very much.”

A laugh escapes you.

“I’m pretty sure the panic attack you just had was in direct conflict with a desire to die, too.”

You nod simply. “Yeah, I’d like a different manner of death than by swarm of insects please.”

He scrunches his nose at you. “You can’t just pick.”

You shrug. “I feel like it should be a basic human right to choose how you die.”

“Please tell me you’re kidding.”

You are. You’re just messing with him. But you just smile shakily. “Let’s get to the others.”

He follows you down the empty corridor with a dramatic sigh. The two of you retrace your steps down the east hall, then down the south hall. Nothing jumps out to surprise you, but the tension never leaves your shoulders.

he’s checking each open doorway as you go, twirling his pipe between his fingers. “They’re all probably dead now.” He mutters. “The zombies.”

You don’t look forward to coming across the bodies of your friends. Even after watching them become unrecognizable animals, you think seeing them lifeless on the floor might be more than you can take.

“I’m just glad Jongho made it downstairs before the parasites started getting out.” Yeosang continues. “He’s scared shitless of bugs.”

You’re trying not to think about Taehyung’s huge, boxy smile, the way Hobi makes little noises when he’s happy, the way Jungkook used to follow Namjoon around like a puppy. “Glad it’s not just me.”

Yeosang nudges you. “Imagine if it were you and Jongho up here fighting that swarm.”

“We both would have died.” You return lightly. “You guys would have found us laying there like pincushions.”

“He does this thing with apples—tears them apart with his bare hands like it’s nothing. I can just see him ripping giant wasps from limb to limb, screaming the whole time.”

“At least I would have been entertained as they killed me.” You pause, and shoot him a look. “He rips apples apart with his bare hands?” You remember trying it once and breaking both of your thumbnails all the way down to your nail beds.

The apple had come out unscathed. You still swear to all who had witnessed it that it had been laughing at you.

You’d never tried it again.

Yeosang catches your impressed expression. “Yeah, you didn’t know that?”

You just blink at him blankly.

“So when you got our contract, did you even know our names?” He wonders curiously.

“Of course I knew your names.” You roll your eyes. “We had you on our list of clients that we wanted to pitch to if you were ever in the market for horror episodes. I just never had the time to do any intensive research.” Your face turns sheepish. “Sorry. If it helps, I was still over the moon about getting you as clients.”

He shrugs. “No, it’s fine. I just don’t usually have to tell people these things about us.”

Like his birthmark, which your eyes catch on once again. “I really did want to be more prepared for you guys, but I ended up running out of time. There was a mix up with this venue that I spent no less than two weeks fighting with staff over.”

“They’d double booked it?”

You nod, checking a room as you pass. “It was supposed to be used for another team, but I got them to settle for another location.” There’s no sign of any parasites anywhere. “But the point is, I usually take a few days and camp out on YouTube, finding all of the popular and fan-made videos about our clients. I should have known more by the time we actually met you.”

Yeosang shakes his head dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. It’s kind of refreshing. Although—does that mean you actually haven’t watched any of our stages or concerts or anything?”

“I’ve seen some highlight videos.” You tell him. “Outside of our contract, I’ve been aware of your music and performances for a few years now. I know your music better than your stages.”

The conversation does well to distract you from the sinking dread of coming across the fallen bodies of your friends.

You’re almost to the end of the hall where you’d left your team now.

“You can come to any of our concerts if you want to.” Yeosang offers. “The guys would love it. We’ll get you full access. You, Namjoon, and Jimin.”

You can’t imagine any version of reality where they’ll be free to perform like they used to if they escape from here, but the invitation is sweet anyway. “Thank you,” you murmur. “I know they’ll love that.”

His expression falls.

Before you can try to pick up another topic to focus on anything other than your exclusion of yourself, someone steps out into the hall ahead of you.

You freeze, swinging a hand out to catch Yeosang’s arm.

He stops short next to you, muscles tensing as his eyes land on the figure in front of you.

The person turns, and air billows out of your lungs. “Joon.”

Namjoon spots you, hurrying away from the classroom he’d just exited—it’s 2-1, where you sent San and Mingi after Rosé.

When he reaches you, he tugs you into a tight hug. “Oh my god, I’m so glad you’re okay.” He squeezes you harshly, and then pulls Yeosang in too. “Both of you.”

You’re surprised.

It’s the first time he’s reacted to one of Ateez as though they’re part of your group, and for a second you’re not sure how Yeosang will respond to it, until his arm bands around your back and his other hand grips Namjoon’s shoulder.

“When the zombies started falling—” Namjoon starts. “When the insects came out, all I could think about was that time you fell into an ant hill.”

You’d blocked that from your memory.

You’d been catatonic for an entire day after that.

“Well, I don’t know what that was like,” Yeosang mutters with a wry laugh. “But I can imagine that what we just went through wasn’t much better.”

“It was worse.” You mumble into Namjoon’s shoulder, and feel Yeosang’s hand smooth over your back once. “It was so much worse.”

“But you’re okay.” Namjoon breathes. “San told us what you did.” He utters your name like a curse. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“There wasn’t a whole lot of thinking involved.” You ease yourself out of his embrace, and show him the broken desk leg in your hand. “Yeosang made us these weapons and I still almost got swarmed to death.”

Namjoon’s eyes trail from the broken, slimy aluminum rod in your hand, to the paper and duct tape armor on your arms and legs, to Yeosang. “Dude, I don’t know where you came from, or what kind of Special Forces training your managers put you through, but Jesus.” He claps a hand to the younger man’s shoulder. “Thanks for going after her.”

Yeosang’s jaw tightens, and he nods once, but his arm doesn’t lower from your back. “She had it handled.”

She absolutely didn’t have it handled.

You can’t even comprehend the outright lie, except that Yeosang looks somewhat perturbed over the insinuation that his actions to help you had been merely a favor to your co-captain.

Namjoon reads the terse hardness of his eyes easily and shrugs lightly with a relenting smile. “I’m just glad you’re safe. Seonghwa, Hongjoong, and I made it down here and decided to check in on the 2nd floor team. We found them in 2-1.”

“Are they okay?” Yeosang asks, finally pulling away from you and moving around Namjoon towards the classroom.

Your co-captain puts out his arm to bar Yeosang’s chest. “Hold on. Hold on, just wait.”

Your heart sinks. “What is it? Are they okay?”

Yeosang’s face is pale. “Hyung?”

Namjoon glances between you, looking significantly less relieved than he had a second ago. “Listen, just listen to me for a second. They’re all alive.”

Alive.

The word strikes you as frighteningly inadequate.

Yeosang pushes Namjoon’s arm off and takes off towards 2-1 without a word.

Namjoon lets him go with a sigh. He focuses on you. “We found Rosé and Mingi both stung.”

“No,” your heart pounds frantically. “No; they were fine. They were okay—”

But you hadn’t seen Rosé.

And you hadn’t gotten a good enough look at Mingi to see if the parasites had gotten to him or not.

“We had already grabbed the AED from 3, and we hit them both with it as soon as we got to them. They’re both still recovering.” He grips your hand comfortingly. “But Rosé was worse off than Mingi. She said a zombie found her and got in as soon as the military let them out. While she was trying to fight him off, the parasite got out. It was over half an hour before we found her.”

< last chapter | masterlist

tag list : @mysterysold @threevracha @igotajuicyass @velvetmoonlght @ramadiiiisme @mrsminseochoi @nightshadeblooming @furfoxsake22 @marvolos @lunaryoongie @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone @noukstmblr

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latisthegenderfluidwannabealone · 2 days ago

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Ateez Text - Talking about pets

Pairing : Ot8 x Reader

Genre : Fluff, established relationship.

Having a pet could lead to interesting conversations. 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : I wanted to try tiny text for yall for a long time, and I finally found a good app to do so ! Here we are for the first text. Lemme know if you liked it ! Also do not hesitate to suggest prompts of texts in my Inbox. ALSO : For those who are waiting for OTEOL Part 2, it's coming soon I promise ! It's quite long to write, but it's coming ! ✿

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latisthegenderfluidwannabealone · 2 days ago

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being loved by jung wooyoung

bf!wooyoung x gender neutral reader

theme: fluff, comfort, basically just me saying anything that came to my mind lol

being loved by wooyoung feels like the sea in the middle of the night—calm, allowing you to stop worrying, a moment of peace in the midst of a hard life. but it's also windy, passionate, fervent. how could you not be madly in love with him when all he ever did was treat you like the most precious person in the world?

wooyoung would do everything that might make people say a man is stupid in love: buying you flowers, singing you to sleep, kissing you in the rain after a fight, making playlists of songs that remind him of you, introducing you to his family and meeting yours, sending letters when he's away, watching the sunset together, cooking with you—or for you when you're too tired. he makes you feel like you're living inside a cliché romantic movie.

it’s the purest form of love. he showed you that it doesn’t have to be hard, that love can be easy and cliché, that it’s all about caring for and supporting each other.

and with him, you finally realised: love isn't meant to break you or make you worry, it's meant to be home, hold you, and most of all, to understand and support you.

hope you enjoyed ♡ always open for asks!

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latisthegenderfluidwannabealone · 2 days ago

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Sneak Peek BtL Chapter 25

🎥 Series Masterlist 🎥

Hi Moonpies! I have not had the opportunity to finish up the chapters because the two days I generally am working on them the most (Friday and Saturday) have been packed full. I had a graduation for one of my cousins and then I had the Ateez movie with one of my friends! I will be working on finishing up Chapter 25 the next couple of days and figured since it is a little past my unofficial posting schedule that I could offer you some fun small pieces of the chapter!

Let me know what you think! <3 Moonie

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

“When did you get that?”

You glanced down and smiled, “oh, y’know, just about a week ago.”

“And you didn't think to share?”

★☆☽ O ☾☆★

a literal Disney Princess

★☆☽ O ☾☆★

you know the term together means you actually have to let me do something

★☆☽ O ☾☆★

You snuck around and hid behind the door as best you could while he was finishing things up. When he turned back around to find you gone his eyes widened dramatically. “Y/n-nie?”

★☆☽ O ☾☆★

You don't need to thank me for showing you basic human decency.

★☆☽ O ☾☆★

He could see your inner child peeking through the cracks of your heavy armor.

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

(Chapter 25 Coming Soon)

Likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

Thanks for reading! <3 Moonie

Taglist:

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latisthegenderfluidwannabealone · 3 days ago

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can i get a name for your drink? yeah, peter parker

genre: delinquent!ateez x bubble tea worker!reader, meet-cute, high school au, fluff, crack

length: 6.6k

c/w: cliche depictions of high school delinquents, mentions of smoking, drugs and clubs, boys trying to act tough, everybody has bad humour, swearing is their mother tongue

synopsis: a bubble tea shop is one of the last places you would expect for a high school delinquent to walk into during the dead of night. yet here you are, forming an unlikely friendship with not one but eight of them. they may be kind of stupid, but they also kind of grow on you.

a/n: a fic with no angst? a fic without a 40k wc?? new writer who dis. just a short and sweet fic @sorryimananti-romantic helped prod me to write

you know that you are probably shaving a couple months off your lifespan each time you work a night shift at the bubble tea shop and subsequently fuck up your entire sleep routine for the next couple of days, but it gives you a bit of extra money, there are hardly any customers, and it is quiet enough that you can squeeze in some studying at the same time.

the shop probably averages about two couples and a few odd individuals here and there per night. why a small business would even decide to stay open during ghost hours in the first place, likely making negative profit, you have no idea. but you digress–you are just here to bum around for money.

so when your average customer number suddenly spikes not just by one, two or three people, but by an entire group of eight, it is safe to say you are more than confused. they are obviously your age because you can recognise the school crest embroidered onto the front pocket of their uniform shirts; it is one of the nearby high schools in the area. except, that is where the similarity ends.

only half of them are wearing their uniform, and even then they layer it unbuttoned over bold statement t-shirts like it is a mere accessory. the others wear black tracksuits and there is not a single pair of proper school shoes to be seen. your eyes cannot help but scan their pierced ears and obviously-styled hairstyles–you are pretty sure the shortest boy has dyed his hair a lighter shade of brown too.

it is hard to take your attention off of him as he takes one last drag of the cigarette in his hand, lazily blowing the smoke out of the corner of his mouth before he flicks the butt onto the floor outside and steps in through the door along with the others. you idly wonder how he got his hands on a fake id to purchase cigarettes in the first place, but at least he is polite about not smoking inside your store.

the group saunters up and you startle slightly as the boy at the front slaps his hand against the counter with the matching confidence to his glorified 6 foot height to demand, “give me a double shot of espresso.” he pulls away his hand to reveal a mismatched assortment of sad coins and crumpled notes.

“we, uh–” you glance not so subtly at the wall-sized menu behind you and the LED lighting decor sprawled across the other three walls with the phrases, ‘you’re a cu-tea’, ‘you’re pearl-fect’, and ‘you’re my bo-bae’, and wonder what gave these boys the impression they could order coffee. “we don’t sell coffee,” you state.

he does not seem fazed by your words at all. “can’t you just, like, charge me for your most expensive drink and make me a coffee?” he asks his absurd question with practiced ease, which makes you think that this is not his first rodeo.

unfortunately for him though, you deadpan, “i physically can’t. we don’t have a coffee machine.”

the boy’s expression finally cracks a little and you can literally see the cogs slowing down to a stop inside his brain. “aw, fuck,” he swears, “this worked last time.”

one his friends shrugs callously and snickers, “what did i say, mingi. told you they wouldn’t have one.”

“shut up, jongho,” he gripes in response.

you gesture vaguely at the laminated menu on the counter beside the cash register. “would you like something else to drink?” you offer.

the tall boy–mingi–takes all but one look at the barrage of words before his eyes flicker back up towards you. “recommend something.”

“depends on what you’re feeling,” you hum your scripted question, pointing to the different sections of the menu. “do you want something fruity or milky?”

he looks constipated as he weighs the two options. “fruity?” he eventually settles, still sounding unsure. “what’s good?”

at the question, all of their eyes turn to look at you intently and you feel yourself wilting internally at the thought of explaining the drinks to a group of boys that look like outright delinquents, because if there is one downside to working here apart from the crippling health impacts, it is the loss of your dignity each time you have to say the stupid names of the drinks.

“well,” you clear your throat and steel yourself, “we’ve got the bubbly butterfly blues, a purple grape and blueberry fruit ade, or the mysterious mermaid magic, a mango and passionfruit green tea with rainbow pearls.” you forge on with your explanations despite the furrowed brows and open mouths of judgement on their faces, deciding to give them a recommendation for a milky drink too just in case. “the rainbow unicorn fairy sparkles is also pretty popular. it’s a strawberry milk tea with whipped cream, sprinkles and marshm–”

“i’ll take that one,” mingi interrupts, unable to stand the onslaught of words that make the world around him explode into pink glitter. he drops an additional crinkled note onto the counter for good measure and then strides away to take a seat at the table in the furthest corner of the store to wait for his cutesy drink.

half a snort escapes the back of your throat at the sight. mingi may as well hold a megaphone to his mouth and shout “i am a manly man!” to make himself feel better. what an idiot.

you shift your attention to the rest of the group. “anything i can get for you guys?” you ask.

“fuck it, why not,” the one who had been smoking shrugs immediately. “get me the same thing he’s getting.”

most of the others pass and step away to join mingi at the table as you sort out the payment for delinquent number two’s cutesy drink. when you close the cash register–you are tempted to ask them why they have so many loose coins–the last two of the boys sidle up to the other side of the counter, peering down carefully at the menu.

you frown.

these two are actually wearing their uniform properly, only the first buttons of their shirt undone, no brightly-coloured tee peeking out from underneath, ties still around their neck and shirts tucked into their pants. they are even wearing their name tags; kang yeosang and park seonghwa. also, apart from the fact that the two appear prim and proper enough to be part of the student council, they are also very pretty.

said two look up at you, catch the frown across your face, fumble a little, then give you a small smile as a peace offering. “hi,” seonghwa greets softly, “can we get two regular pearl milk teas, please? thank you.”

you physically recoil.

“blink twice if you’re being threatened,” you blurt out, the words tumbling unwisely out of your mouth before you can stop them and definitely loud enough that all eight of the boys can hear you.

blink twice seonghwa and yeosang do, but not as a confirmation that the stark difference in their appearance and demeanour to the others is a sign they are being bullied into hanging out. they blink to ask–very respectfully–what the fuck you are on about.

they blink at you. you blink at them. the other boys blink at the three of you.

“sure thing!” you vocally sweep your own words under the rug. “two regular pearl milk teas coming right up!”

you swipe yeosang’s payment out of his hands–notes and coins carefully counted out to the exact amount–and punch the number into the cashier before swiftly turning your back to them to make their drinks. if you ignore something hard enough then it never happened. and it works, because they retreat to join the rest of their friends at the furthest table without further comment.

it does not take long to make all four of their drinks, but you do take a few extra minutes to carefully swirl the whipped cream on top of the strawberry milk tea orders and artistically shower them with sprinkles and marshmallows. you want to make them as cute as you fucking possibly can just for mingi.

“two rainbow unicorn fairy sparkles and two regular pearl milk teas,” you call out.

they all stand up, likely ready to leave once they grab their drinks. mingi leads the group with his long strides and he picks up his drink with one hand. he holds it up to eye level to study it like an unknown specimen and the moment he picks it up, one of his friends–you think you overheard the others call him wooyoung–cannot help but blurt out with distaste, “that shit looks sweet as fuck.”

mingi holds his drink closer to his body with a light glare because hey, it does look sweet as fuck but it also actually looks really good. and kind of cute, he will admit. he takes a tentative sip through the straw then a small lick of the whipped cream on top, the scattered toppings simultaneously crunching and melting in his mouth to spread sweet diabetes across his tongue.

it tastes like drugs in sugar form.

and it must show on his face because the tallest of his friends leans over to do the same, taking a sip from the same straw and a lick of the whipped cream from the other side, only far more generous and daring than the drink’s owner.

“bro,” comes the tall boy’s immediate reaction, “i’d get one of these every day.”

wooyoung suddenly looks less dubious and asks, curiosity now piqued, “give me a sip of that rainbow shit.”

“no,” mingi instantly responds, still keeping his drink close to his body and literally turning away to keep it protected and out of wooyoung’s reach. “you insulted my drink. get your own.”

the latter whines and you physically jerk backwards for the second time that night at their complete disregard for following stereotypical delinquent traits. you are starting to think that they are not delinquents so much as delinquent-wannabes and they seem increasingly harmless the more they simply exist.

“hongjoong,” wooyoung suddenly sings out, appearing to change targets to his other friend who had ordered the same drink. he is determined to try a sip tonight without having to spend his own money, but alas–

hongjoong flips him off and cradles his drink out of sight too. “you insulted my drink by extension.”

–determination can only get him so far.

this time, you cannot help the proper snort of amusement that leaves your mouth. you dare to hold your gaze with a lightly teasing lilt of your lips when wooyoung whips his head around with narrowed eyes. the boy cogs turn in his head as he deduces how far he can push the boundaries with you and he must come to some sort of conclusion that you are a newfound stranger-friend because he jokes with a straight face, “i’ll rob you.”

“sure,” you answer easily, tapping in a fake order onto the register’s screen to eject the cash drawer with a comedic ding! emphasising your words.

a few of them guffaw and wooyoung’s expression lights up to actually reach over the counter to help himself to a ten dollar bill. that is, until his hand is slapped away by somebody else with quite possibly the most perfect eyebrows you have ever seen. and no. you are most definitely not jealous.

“i’ll pay for your drink,” the friend chides, digging into his back pocket to fish out his wallet.

seonghwa shakes his head and advises, “don’t enable him, san,” at the same time that wooyoung brattily decides, “nah, don’t want one.”

“god, that’s it,” jongho mutters, starting to usher the group away from the counter towards the direction of the doors. “we’re leaving. mingi’s waiting outside already.”

they let themselves be herded and a few of them even turn to wave goodbye to you at the doors, cheerfully leaving behind the words ‘we’ll be back!’ in their wake as they exit the shop. your hand remains suspended in the air mid-wave even after they have disappeared and you blink blankly at the bizarreness of your entire encounter with the group of boys.

you do not know if they truly mean it when they say they will be back, but you do know one thing; you kind of hope that they do.

“can i get that thing i got last week.”

the tone of mingi’s voice ends his sentence more like it is a demand than it is a question, but the nuance of his words is still a request and already an improvement in comparison to your first encounter with him. if you are completely honest, you are also somewhat happy to see him and the others come back, so you will take the wins where you can. baby steps.

“which one?” you clarify. “i don’t remember.”

you do remember because their group of eight is pretty hard to forget, and they are some of the only customers you ever get. plus, you have made it somewhat of a personal challenge to hear mingi say something as stupid as ‘rainbow unicorn fairy sparkles’, which means that you are going to pretend for as long as you need to.

he scratches the side of his neck. “y’know, that drink you said is good.”

“we have a couple of those. was it the, uh, mysterious mermaid magic?” your head tilts with exaggerated thoughtfulness and from behind mingi, hongjoong and wooyoung cackle while the others look on with smirks, having caught on to exactly what you are doing.

“no, the rainbow unic…” he mumbles, voice growing increasingly softer with each syllable until his mouth is simply opening and closing.

you look at him with faux apologeticness and furrow your brows, “sorry? i didn’t quite catch that.”

“say it louder, dude,” his tall friend nudges him playfully. you are going to need to find out his name somehow because his is the only one you have yet to figure out, and you have a feeling you and him would get along real good.

“the rainbow unicorn fairy sparkles,” mingi finally gets out. if he were a cartoon character, you would see the rising colour of bright red creep up from under his uniform to the tip of his ears and then to the very roots of his hair.

god forbid a manly man purchase a cutesy pick-me-up drink on a friday night.

you smile brightly and use your cheeriest customer service voice to announce, “one rainbow unicorn fairy sparkles for princess mingi coming right up.”

the boy in front of you is flattered to learn that you know and remember his name but is also twice as horrified by the nickname you have crowned him with. his brain short circuits and his eyes widen at you in panicked masculinity and he shoves his payment across the counter before retreating to the same table in the corner of the store where seonghwa is already seated. if you look closely enough, there is a little wisp of smoke coming out from the top of mingi’s head too as he malfunctions. heh.

the boy whose name you still do not know comes up to the counter next. he jerks his head backwards in the direction of mingi and orders, “could i get the same? that rainbow fairy sparkling unicorn or whatever.” the name is wrong but he gets an a+ for trying so you do not correct him, simply nodding and putting his order into the cash register instead.

then you ask for your own personal gain, “can i get a name for your drink?”

he does not appear to question your intentions nor realise he is the only one you have asked because he is too occupied grinning widely at you, unable to curb his cheeky excitement at the thought of what he is about to say. “yeah, peter parker,” comes his proud answer, quite literally naming his drink.

and that is how you find out that he has the best (read: worst) humour out of all of the boys.

it is frankly right up your alley but you refuse to let him one-up you. instead, you use it to your advantage. you nod, “p.p. for short,” dragging the abbreviated initials out for longer so that it sounds intentionally crude.

“peepee,” wooyoung repeats with unrestrained laughter, high-pitched shrieking that sets off the others as well.

and that is also how you find out that wooyoung has the easiest funny bone to tickle out of all the boys.

p.p.’s eyes glint with delight at the fact that you can both take and dish out your own freak. he leans against the countertop on his elbow, which is a sight to behold with how far he has to stoop down because of his height, and exposes you with no qualms, “it’s yunho, by the way, since you wanted to know my name so badly.” he adds a flirty wink for good measure as his friends ooh like the true teenage boys that they are.

you mirror his mannerisms and bat your eyelashes at him to say, “okay, whatever you say, peepee.”

hongjoong intervenes and shoves yunho aside before the latter can fall in love with you and your wack-ass humour or something. he shoos him away, “go sit at the table,” as if he is sending the taller into the naughty corner.

yunho concedes with his hands raised in mock surrender, walking backwards as he reassures his friend, “don’t worry. you won’t hear a peep-ee out of me.”

your facade cracks and you let out a laugh, which only grows louder when jongho takes the liberty to grab a wrapped straw from the container on your countertop to peg it at yunho’s face. it bounces perfectly off the middle of his forehead and lands on the floor, where seonghwa–bless him–bends down to pick it up. you think he might just be your favourite.

“didn’t know you were into that kind of humour,” hongjoong notes with a tone of amusement.

“oh, there’s a lot about me that you don’t know,” you respond, a hint of flirtatiousness in your words.

fuck being professional. these boys would probably be the last people on earth to ever report you for something like a coquettish comment, and god forbid you want to flirt with a couple of really hot guys. the image of hongjoong taking a lazy drag from his cigarette burns at the forefront of your mind as he stares intently into your eyes, and his seeming nonchalance to his own charm only makes him that much more attractive.

he raises an eyebrow, “is that a challenge?”

“only if you’re up for it,” you respond coyly.

san coughs and interrupts, “not to be a cockblock, but can you flirt after we order our drinks.”

the boy in front of you rolls his eyes, pairing it with a loving middle finger at his friend. however, he moves over anyway, half mumbling that he is not going to get a drink. his spot at the counter is immediately snagged by san who mimics yunho’s earlier pose leaning against the surface. “so,” he gives you an overly-smouldering gaze, “tell me something about yourself that i don’t know.”

a bubble of mirth rises from out of your chest and san drops the act utterly pleased with himself. you humour him, though only partially, by revealing, “the desserts here are actually really good. i love the cookies.”

“which one’s your favourite?”

you point to one of the cookies in the second row of the display counter. “the biscoff and peanut butter fudge.”

one of his beautiful brows raises upwards as if to ask why the cookie name is so normal. you give him a miniscule shrug. beats me. he shakes his head with a slight chuckle then requests, “i’ll have one of each cookie and one of each donut that you’ve got.” your eyes bug out of your head because that is a fuckton of cookies and donuts, but san reassures you they all have caves for stomachs.

you get started on their drinks then slide the glass doors open to pull their desserts out, only to realise that yeosang has lingered close by to watch you. he is not wearing his uniform today, instead in a tracksuit like the others but in white. he looks good in that colour and you tell him such, “your tracksuit looks good.”

“thanks,” he replies easily, “wooyoung shoplifted it for me.”

your jaw drops at his sudden confession, too taken aback to appropriately school your expression in time even if you should not really be too surprised by their shenanigans. at your obvious stupor, yeosang’s stoic face breaks immediately and he reveals, “just kidding, hehe.” despite his joke, he blushes to the very tip of his ears like rudolph but elf style and rushes away.

you are left dumbfounded in a good way. one day, you are going to teach yeosang a thing or two about confidence because his uncanny ability to keep a straight face whilst saying the most out-of-left-field thing when it is least expected then leaving the other person wondering whether he is being genuine or only joking is top-tier humour–he just needs to learn how to own it.

you are also left wondering whether there is a single sane soul in this friendship group. you still hold some hope for seonghwa and maybe san, but who knows.

when their drinks and spread of desserts are ready, you expect them all to leave like they did last week. except this time they drag two circular tables closer together in the far corner of the store that they seem hellbent on claiming as their spot, where they then lay out all of the desserts across the joint surface. you watch from behind the counter. there is both a sense of systematic order and chaotic mess to the way they take a bite out of a cookie or donut, nod enthusiastically at how good it tastes whilst shoving it into the face of somebody else, who will in turn take a bite and join in on the enthusiastic nodding and moan an affirmative that it is good.

“wait, this donut is fucking fire,” you hear, and, “this cookie is The Shit, bro.”

they are sort of really fucking cute; boys you would expect to see loitering in alleyways with cigs in their mouths and sneaking into clubs with fakes to pop pills, instead sitting hunched over on cute plastic stools around rickety circular tables sharing sweet desserts like they are at a tea party.

wooyoung catches your gaze over the top of jongho’s head and he gets up instantly to drag you out from behind your counter. all of your warbled protests go unheard as he pulls you by one of your loose apron ties–his strangely endearing way of being respectful not to actually touch you–towards their tables whilst refuting, “there’s nobody else in here but us.”

that is how you find yourself squashed between seonghwa and jongho, your shoulders and thighs touching from close proximity.

“try this blueberry lemon cookie,” seonghwa offers from beside you the moment you sit down, extending the treat for you to take a bite from.

mingi so helpfully reminds, “she literally works here.”

seonghwa shushes him, “yeah, but she probably hasn’t tried everything on the menu.”

he is not wrong. you may have the appetite, but you do not have the physical stomach to try an entire serving of each dessert available in the shop, even if you were to try one per shift. now that the opportunity has handed itself to you on a silver platter, you are not going to refuse. plus, you do not think that you could ever bring yourself to say no when seonghwa is holding the cookie out with both hands so eagerly.

he is definitely your favourite.

you take a tentative bite out of the cookie and eight pairs of shiny eyes do not leave yours until you give them an affirmative and enthusiastic nod at its taste. all flurry of activity starts up again as they continue to trade desserts with those sitting beside them and across the circle. it feels like you are suddenly back in primary school, sharing your snacks out of your lunch box and trading sandwiches with your friends. they include you easily in both taste-testing and conversation, filling your usually quiet shift with antics and laughter.

it has always been a perk that you do not get many customers, but now more so than ever, you hope that nobody comes in for the remainder of your shift–or at the very least, not until the boys leave. in just two meetings, they have all grown on you in their own ways and you kind of want this to become a regular thing. you could definitely get used to this.

despite their appearances and rough-around-the-edges personalities, they are really just a bunch of boys living their life to the fullest in the diabetic form of bubble tea, loaded cookies and glazed donut runs in the middle of a random night.

and honestly? if you had a group of friends like them, you would too.

yunho’s eyes narrow fiercely at the couple who are walking along the footpath outside the perimeter of your shop, daring them to step in through the doors. his glare is not needed though–the very sight of what is going down inside is more than enough for their eyes to widen and for the man to hastily pull his girlfriend away.

“oh look, there goes another two potential customers,” hongjoong notes with sarcastic dismay. “i wonder why people are always in such a hurry to leave.”

yunho blinks his murderous intent away and faces you with round, innocent eyes as you roll your own and cross your arms. your insides wilt at the loss of potential revenue but only by a tad, because whatever business they boys scare off, they make up for several times over. you state as a matter-of-factly, “maybe it has something to do with jongho.”

said boy currently stands about three feet away from you, his arms raised and fists clenched threateningly as the rest of the boys surround the both of you in a circle of sorts as if they are about to witness a bloody fistfight. you suppose it does not look too far from the truth–you are about to get punched in the face.

jongho shrugs dismissively, “it’s not my fault other people aren’t interested in learning how to get knocked out by a sucker punch safely.”

“i don’t think any of those words should go together in a single sentence,” you tell him honestly, unimpressed.

“they normally don’t,” jongho’s mouth ticks up, “which is exactly why you’re learning.”

you cannot win against him or any of them. last week it had been learning how to pop a dislocated shoulder back into place, the week before it had been how to dislocate a shoulder, and then the week before that it had been how to reverse-jump a person if they were chasing you into an alleyway.

it has become an ingrained part of your weekly routine for the boys to rock up during your friday night shift, order half the menu, hang around for hours where you usually join them, then leave until the next week rolls around again. but these random tutorials have only just recently become a new routine within your pre-existing routine.

it all started when wooyoung snuck behind your counter one night while your back was turned to make their drinks and decided it would be hilarious to scream in your face as you turned around. you had jerked backwards so hard that you knocked over the entire stack of blender jars, which toppled over into the dirty sink one after the other like noisy dominoes. seonghwa had made wooyoung personally clean and stack them all again as punishment, but the damage had been done and hongjoong had declared that you would not survive in the real world if a little fright like that could make your butthole pucker right back up into your own intestinal system.

and so had begun your weekly crash courses on survival instincts because according to them, you had none. you had refused to submit to their antics at first, but then yeosang had pointed out, “it’s true. wooyoung was standing behind you like a creep for a full five minutes and you didn’t even notice.” san had also threatened that they would not order anything until you complied each week.

“that’s not fair,” you had complained petulantly. “i just won’t serve you guys at all then.”

san had given you a cheshire grin. “you wouldn’t. we’re like, eighty percent of the total revenue you make during your shift.”

that shuts you up real quick and san knows, so you have no choice but to give in to whatever tomfoolery they choose to teach you for that week. if it is learning to ‘get knocked out by a sucker punch safely’, then so be it.

“okay, i’m all set to be punched in the future,” you declare dryly as jongho reigns in his fist after a pretend swing at your temple, “are you guys going to order now?”

hongjoong nods like he is the little leader of this delinquent gang, but jokes on him because they follow behind you to gather in front of the counter in a single file of sorts with practiced ease, an endearingly crooked line of ducklings. you know right off the bat that it means they already know what they want to order because other times they will come together as pairs or even triplets so that they can umm and ahh over the menu together.

you do not think you can ever take them seriously as proper delinquents–if they even count as such.

as if to prove your point even further, mingi throws up double gang signs and makes a poor attempt to rap, “i want an emineminem,” and when seonghwa not-so-subtly pinches his elbow, he adds on, “please.”

you bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing as your hands automatically move to input his order into the register, long past familiar with what his order truly means; mysterious mermaid magic, because the alliteration of the name ‘m and m and m’ sounds the same as the rapper’s name twice. go figure. you do not know if ‘emineminem’ is worse, or, as san calls it whilst flexing his biceps, ‘the merman’.

the boys have a shockingly terrible incapacity to remember the names on the menu correctly, but it is also partially due to the fact that they could give less than zero fucks about them. they will either say what they think the name is, or what they think the name should be.

they make the rules. you simply follow.

the first time it happened was during their third time at the store. “yo, give me a triple b,” jongho had confidently ordered.

“a fuckin’ what?” you were positive you were having a stroke.

“a triple b,” he had tried again, frowning at how you did not automatically understand him. “the big butterfly bus or somethin’.”

you could not take him seriously. “big butterfly bus? what are they gonna do after hopping on? go to fucking school?” you had jested. “also, you can’t just make up your own name and expect me to–you know what, sure.”

it sort of becomes a game. you will roll over in your grave before admitting it, but it is sort of fun to hear an absolutely rubbish string of words–or letters–come out of their mouths for you to then follow their ridiculous train of thought backwards to work out what the actual drink is. the silly boys with their silly names kind of grow on you.

and you may or may not indulge them a little too much. they are the first to try any new items on the menu, even when they are still technically not meant to be available to the general public. but when they pounce on whatever you present to them on the table like puppies and fresh kibble, it is very hard not to keep doing so. which is exactly why you bring out the batch of cupcakes you had made earlier specifically for them to taste.

they look like normal vanilla-frosted cupcakes, except when you bite into them, there is a dark chocolate cookie inside the base. it is the perfect mix of soft and chewy, and when the gooeyness is maximised by slightly warming the dessert up, it is–

“fucking fire, bro,” yunho says around a mouthful, blatantly ignoring the dirty look that seonghwa shoots him for talking with food in his mouth.

yeosang inspects the cookie at the core. “have you named it yet?”

you do not get a say in what the menu items are named and they always do in fact already have a name by the time the boys get to try them. regardless, you answer, “not yet,” because they love the power trip they get when they have creative liberty over your store’s products.

“i have an idea,” wooyoung pipes up immediately. “the frosted ultimate cookie cupcake.” then in a falsetto voice, he role-plays by himself, “hi, could i get a fucc please?”

mingi snorts himself silly and continues, “actually, could you give me two fucks?”

you oblige, “fuck you, and double fuck you,” flashing your middle finger at wooyoung first then mingi second to punctuate the fucks you are gifting them.

the boys snicker at your crudeness, absolutely delighted. not the type to let any opportunity to swear go by, the rest of them join in as san yanks you down to sit at the table with them before you can roll your eyes and walk away.

and out of all moments, it is this exact moment, when you are surrounded by the eight of them throwing out colourful words left and right with the giddy enthusiasm of toddlers, each holding a half-eaten vanilla-frosted cookie cupcake in their hands, that you realise you may actually give a few too many fucks about them…and not just in a friendly way.

well. fuck.

when you get a call on friday morning from your branch manager the following week, your immediate thought is that somebody finally chanced upon watching the store’s security footage and you have been caught making friends with delinquent customers and literally feeding them with business secrets. except when you pick up and tentatively greet him, he starts to say something that is arguably just as bad.

“i need you to swap shifts with gayoung. she can’t work this tuesday night so i need you to cover that day ‘cause there’s nobody else available,” he informs. “gayoung will cover your shift tonight instead.”

you are still trying to process his words as you repeat, “tonight?”

“yes, so you won’t need to go into work tonight.”

your heart skips a beat. for the first time in your life, you find yourself asking, “can’t i take both shifts?”

“no, you can’t. sorry,” your manager apologises but he does not sound sorry at all.

you have never voluntarily taken up extra night shifts, much less asked to take up additional shifts. yet, there is a heavy sense of disappointment that simultaneously settles itself deep inside your stomach and lodges itself in your throat, because it is friday today and friday night is for your boys. you do not even have a way of letting them know that you will not be in tonight.

you wonder if they will notice your absence and whether they will care. after all, you may just be somebody who happens to work at the bubble tea shop they frequent. but it turns out that they do and turns out you are not.

“where were you?”

those are the first words that are thrown at you the moment the boys walk through the door during your friday shift the week after you swapped nights with gayoung. they stomp up to your counter sporting furrowed brows and pressed lips, and if it were not for seonghwa’s soft smile and warm, “we missed seeing you,” you would have thought that they were angry at you.

you can only imagine how terrifying their demeanours would be if they were actually to be angry.

“my manager made me swap shifts with another coworker,” you explain and their expressions soften immediately.

jongho breaks out into a triumphant smirk as he turns to hongjoong with an upturned palm. “i told you. pay up.”

the latter sheepishly pulls out some crumpled notes as you gawk, “you bet on why i wasn’t at work?”

“don’t mind them,” wooyoung waves his hand dismissively. “hongjoong has trust issues–said that you were avoiding us.”

“i would never!” you refute at the same time that hongjoong exclaims, “i did not!”

“either way, fuck your manager. the fucking audacity to take you off our shift?” wooyoung complains.

you try to keep a straight face at the fact that wooyoung has just very casually claimed your shift–and by extension, you–as theirs. you babble the first thing that comes to mind, “the drinks are all made using the same recipe. it doesn’t matter who makes them.”

yunho’s eyes narrow with offense that you would even suggest a thing. “it’s nowhere near the same.” he is not the only one who wants to tell you that as long as it is not you it will never be the same.

their collective thoughts come out instead through mingi, “nobody understands when we order a triple b or an emineminem or a ‘horse drink’.”

“yeah, no shit sherlock,” you fire back, because apparently sarcasm is your automatic defense mechanism when you are flustered, “might help if you call them by their proper names.”

“or maybe the problem is that nobody knows us well enough like you do,” san insists with a wink and in response, yeosang reveals, “we don’t let just anybody get close to us.”

you joke before you can truly think your words through, “sounds like a you problem then.”

“you’re right,” hongjoong banters easily with smugness.

your nervous fidgeting as you tap useless buttons on the screen of your register gives you away despite your attempts to stay collected. they chuckle and it is difficult not to crumble under their unwavering gazes because it is obvious they can see right through your facade. but can anybody really blame you when you had not been expecting them to reciprocate your feelings of interest, much less admit to it so easily and straightforwardly?

in a last ditch attempt to regain some control over the conversation, you ask, “so, what do you guys want to order?”

from day one, the boys have surprised you in the most unpredictable ways–eight not-quite-delinquent delinquents with simultaneously calloused fists, pottied mouths and insatiable sweet tooth. today is no exception, and you have a feeling that you should start becoming accustomed to their antics because they are here to stay, especially after today.

“what we want to order?” they look at you with confident flirtatiousness. “your phone number and a date.”

taglist pt. one | apply for taglist

@thecarnivaloflies @ilovekimhongjoong @yuranimous @ppprimary @hwas-housewife

@itza-meee @lavishloving @okshu @mizumigi @everythingboutkpop

@ayytease @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @hongjoongsprincess @booyoungie @green-agent

@darkmentalitystarfish-blog @taytayy178 @babymbbatinygirl @oddracha @sourkimchi

@mimilia1801 @kibs-and-bits @mlysalt @jjoongstar @aaa-sia

@nollamuumialaaksossa @skz1-4-3 @minkilicious @joongscheese @ddeonghwva

@delulu18 @teenyfinds @shakalakaboomboo @hxpelesscxven @fureastel

@seomisaho @levishun @lesyeuxdeanna @readerofallthingss @potatos-on-clouds

@apriecotte @hhoneylix @kyeos4ng @smally97 @savluvsmingi

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latisthegenderfluidwannabealone · 3 days ago

Text

Not calling ATEEZ hyung line by their nicknames.

warnings: fluff, a bit of angst? not proofread

a/n: also super old I'm just clearing out the drafts atp and i realised I haven't posted anything atz in a while and that's unacceptable 😤

ateez masterlist.

Hongjoong.

• side eyed you the first time you did it

• though he brushed it off, not thinking too much of it

• but then he starts to get kind of annoyed as you continued it

• what's going on?

• reflects on what he has done this past week but comes up with nothing strange

• even if there was, he trusts that you'll be honest with him

• so he concludes that you were just trying to annoy him

• and boy, he is annoyed. More than he likes to admit

• though he had always claimed to hate those 'silly ass nicknames', as he called it, you gave him

• he really misses it

• but he wasn't going to say that

• instead, he planned to make you give up. How?

• he just started ignoring you 😭 until you had to call him by his nickname to get him to respond

"... you're so sneaky..."

"And you're hanging out with Wooyoung too much."

Seonghwa.

• worried

• initially thinks that you did it accidentally

• but obviously that wasn't the case when you kept doing it

• worries thinking if he did something wrong

• were you annoyed with him? Did he do something to upset you?

• he couldn't really think of anything he has done, making him sort of frustrated

• did he forget something?

• he didn't want think too much so he decided to finally ask you

• "honey, did I do something to upset you?"

• faced with his concerned face, you instantly felt guilty for worrying him

• you didn't expect him to take it so seriously

• you spewed out apologies while hugging him, saying that you only wanted to see his reaction

• he's relieved now but also a bit upset

• but alas, he could never stay mad at you for too long

"... you're giving me early gray hairs..."

Yunho.

• ok so for context, you were kind of annoyed with him

• he had eaten that last piece of pistachio pastry that YOU were saving!

• you had already told him that before but you guessed he forgot it

• you knew he wouldn't have done that if he remembered and even if he did

• you knew that he'll buy the entire thing for you if you just mention it

• but you didn't, not wanting to seem petty (definitely not self reflecting)

• you couldn't help your behaviour though, you had a bad day so now it only annoyed you more

• he noticed almost immediately (hard not to when you basically wear your emotions on your sleeves)

• concerned but also a bit amused, he tried asking you but you just brushed him off saying 'it was nothing'

• it was never nothing

• but he quickly figured it out after seeing you sulking near the fridge. The cake!

• he booked it out of there after realising, saying that he'll be back soon

• you were confused but then gaped, seeing him come back precisely 15 mins later after buying basically the whole shop

• "Honey, I'm sorry...."

• so of course, you couldn't stay mad at his stupidly handsome smile and sweet self

"So if you forgive me then, can I have another bite?"

Yeosang.

• took him a while to notice it

• but when he did, he was mostly confused.

• maybe it was an accident?? You probably didn't realise..

• but then he kinda started to worry when you kept doing it..

• wonders if he did something wrong, thinking you were mad at him

• it doesn't really mention it tho, not wanting to accidentally upset you anymore..

• though it's obvious that he's sad

• looking like a kicked puppy. you could just the imagine the droopy puppy ears on him 😭

• you felt so bad and immediately hugged him saying that you only did it to see his reaction

• and then proceeded to shower him with affection (his little shy smile as you do 🥹)

• he wasn't upset but just glad that you weren't mad at him or anything

"So you weren't mad at me?"

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latisthegenderfluidwannabealone · 4 days ago

Text

★ BUBBLE TROUBLE — PARK SH.

you should’ve known.

you really should have known.

leaving seonghwa unsupervised was always a bad idea.. whether in a kitchen (rest in peace, your last blender), on a shopping trip (the infamous plushie kidnapping incident), or now, in your own bathroom.

and yet, despite years of knowing better, you had let yourself believe that this time would be different.

that was your first mistake.

your second mistake was trusting him when he said, “don’t worry, I got this.”

because the moment you walked in, you were greeted with pure, unfiltered mayhem.

foam. everywhere.

the bathtub had transformed into an overflowing bubble monster, spilling suds onto the floor in thick, fluffy heaps. soap clung to the walls like some kind of failed art project, and the air was so thick with the scent of vanilla that it almost choked you.

and in the center of the chaos, like some kind of dramatic bubble prince, sat seonghwa.

he was fully lounging in the foamy disaster he had created, his silver hair soaked, stray suds clinging to his shoulders, and to top it all off, a ridiculous, perfectly balanced crown of bubbles sitting on his head.

he blinked up at you, completely unbothered.

then, with the slow grace of a man who had absolutely no shame, he blew a handful of bubbles in your direction.

you just stared.

“…what,” you said, voice flat, “the actual hell happened here?”

seonghwa hummed, wiggling his fingers through the water like this was some sort of spa retreat rather than a crime scene. “turns out bubble bath is… stronger than I thought.”

you gestured wildly to the entire bathroom. “stronger?! seonghwa, you turned my tub into a soap volcano!”

he tilted his head, considering. “i mean… i wouldn’t say volcano—”

“look at the floor.”

seonghwa finally glanced down at the thick layer of suds creeping across the tiles like a slow-moving snowstorm.

then he looked back up at you.

then he grinned.

“oh,” he said lightly. “that’s kinda impressive.”

you inhaled deeply, fighting the urge to strangle him.

“seonghwa.”

“yes?”

“how. many. caps. did. you. pour?”

a pause.

“…you count?”

“oh my god.”

you squeezed your eyes shut, rubbing your temples, because of course this would happen, of course he would do something stupidly dramatic and act like it was totally fine.

meanwhile, seonghwa was still completely unbothered, swirling the water around lazily, a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips.

“i think it’s kinda nice,” he mused. “like… a bubble kingdom.”

you scoffed. “more like a disaster zone.”

he sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “see, this is why you don’t have vision.”

“oh, I have vision alright. my vision is seeing you clean this up.”

he gasped, hand over his chest like you had mortally wounded him. “excuse me? i am literally bathing?! how am I supposed to clean and be beautiful?”

you glared. “i don’t care how beautiful you are—”

“oh?” his lips curled dangerously. “so you do think I’m beautiful?”

your brain screeched to a halt.

your mouth opened, but nothing came out because damn it.. he had trapped you.

and he knew it.

because the smug, gremlin energy radiating off him was unbearable.

“i take it back,” you grumbled, crossing your arms. “you’re hideous.”

seonghwa gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. “my fragile ego—”

before he could finish, you grabbed the nearest clump of bubbles and (lightly) slapped it onto his face.

there was a beat of silence.

then, the slowest, most menacing grin you had ever seen spread across his lips.

“…oh, so that’s how we’re playing?”

you suddenly realized your mistake.

“seonghwa, don’t—”

too late.

he lunged.

you yelled, scrambling backward, but the soap-covered floor betrayed you.

your foot slipped, your balance vanished, and in one horrifyingly slow-motion moment, you felt yourself falling.

except…

seonghwa caught you.

or rather, he tried to.

because instead of keeping you upright, his genius attempt at saving you sent both of you toppling straight into the tub.

there was a splash.

a loud, dramatic splash.

foam exploded everywhere. coating the walls, the floor, and quite possibly the next dimension.

and suddenly—

you were not standing anymore.

you were on top of seonghwa.

in the tub.

chest to chest.

face barely inches from his.

the world went silent.

the only sound was the slow ripple of water around you and the faint drip-drip of bubbles sliding down your skin.

and then, to make everything worse, one of the remaining suds from his ridiculous bubble crown popped between you, sending a tiny, wet drop onto your cheek.

seonghwa blinked, eyes flickering over your face.

and then—

he smirked.

oh no.

“wow,” he murmured, voice dropping lower. “if you wanted to join me, you could’ve just asked.”

your entire body tensed.

and he felt it.

because his fingers, still firmly resting on your waist, tightened ever so slightly. just enough to make you notice. just enough to make heat curl low in your stomach.

you swallowed hard. “i hate you.”

“no, you don’t.” his voice was warm now, teasing but too smooth, too dangerous. like he was testing something. like he enjoyed this.

your hands were still on his shoulders, his bare shoulders.

and of course you were suddenly very aware of how firm they felt.

this was bad.

seonghwa was your best friend.

your best friend who was currently shirtless beneath you, looking at you like he knew exactly what was happening in your head right now.

you needed to move.

you should move.

but for some reason—

you didn’t.

and neither did he.

seonghwa exhaled softly, his smirk fading just a little, replaced by something quieter, something heavier.

his gaze flickered to your lips.

for just a second.. but long enough for your stomach to twist.

long enough for your pulse to stutter.

“…you’re staring,” he murmured.

your breath hitched. “no, I’m not.”

his lips curled. “mhm.”

his fingers shifted again, just barely grazing the dip of your spine— so slight, but so intentional.

“seonghwa,” you warned, but your voice wavered, and his smirk widened like he knew.

like he was waiting.

like he was daring you.

your heart pounded.

you could still feel the heat of his skin, the way his fingers lingered.

and then—

you panicked.

with all the strength of someone dangerously close to making a bad decision, you shoved him away and scrambled out of the tub like your life depended on it.

seonghwa let you go, barely, but not before flashing you one last knowing smile.

“you’re the worst,” you muttered.

seonghwa stretched lazily, completely smug. “and yet,” he said, voice dripping with amusement, “you stayed in my lap for a long time.”

your eye twitched. “i slipped.”

“mhm.”

you glared. “you’re insufferable.”

he grinned. “and you like it.”

you should have argued.

but all you could think about was the way his fingers had felt on your skin.

and the fact that— maybe, just maybe— he wasn’t entirely wrong.

┆ ateez masterlist .

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latisthegenderfluidwannabealone · 4 days ago

Text

Ateez- When their S/O is shy around them

Hongjoong

He’d absolutely notice it right away. The way you tucked your hair behind your ear, avoided eye contact, bit your lip when he complimented you.

And instead of calling it out bluntly, he’d lean in closer with that little smirk.

“You always do that when I look at you too long,” he’d whisper.

His voice? Low. Just for you.

When you stammer something back, flustered, he’d grin and brush his thumb along your jaw.

“Don’t get quiet now… I love it when you get shy around me. Makes me feel like I’ve still got that effect on you.”

Seonghwa

This man would melt. Instantly.

The moment you shyly reached for his hand, or blushed when he called you jagiya, Seonghwa’s entire face would light up.

He’d gently cradle your cheek, voice soft.

“You don’t have to be shy with me. I’m yours, remember?”

But deep down? He adores it. Every little giggle, every diverted gaze—it makes his heart pound.

He’d also go out of his way to help you feel safe and adored. A quiet kiss to your knuckles. A warm smile when you nervously fuss with your clothes. “You’re beautiful. Always.”

Yunho

The teasing would never stop.

You shyly look down after he compliments you?

“Oh no, don’t look away now—look at me, jagi,” he’d say with a grin, poking your side.

You mumble a flustered “thank you”?

“Is it my fault you’re this cute?”

Yunho lives for your shy moments. He makes it his mission to make you laugh or hide behind your hands.

But when he notices you getting too overwhelmed, he’d lean in, kiss your temple, and whisper, “Hey. You’re safe with me, always. And you don’t ever have to hide how you feel.”

Yeosang

He wouldn’t say much—but you’d catch the tiny upward twitch of his lips every time you got shy.

When you got flustered trying to explain something, he’d just smirk and gently say, “Take your time. I like listening to you.”

He’d tilt his head and quietly observe you like you’re the most interesting book he’s ever read.

Later, he might tease you softly—nothing loud, just a murmur while holding your hand:

“Are you always this cute, or is it just around me?”

You’d be beet red. He’d act like he didn’t notice. But trust—he noticed everything.

San

You being shy? Dangerous. San sees it as the ultimate weakness—and he will lovingly exploit it.

He’d lean in close when you’re mid-sentence, just to watch your face heat up.

He’d purposefully call you pet names like baby, angel, sweetheart—in public—just to see your ears turn red.

“You like it when I call you that, don’t you?”

But behind the playful flirtation is so much affection. San adores the way you get nervous. He sees it as proof that your feelings are real, and that makes him feel lucky.

And when you shyly bury your face in his shoulder? He hugs you tighter and says, “Don’t hide. I wanna see every part of you—even the flustered bits.”

Mingi

He would instantly become shy with you.

You blush? He blushes.

You stutter? He stumbles over his own words.

It’s like watching two puppies trying to flirt for the first time.

“W-wait, did you just… call me handsome?” he’d ask, face burning.

And when you nod shyly? He’d let out the softest little squeak and bury his face in his hands.

Eventually, though, he’d gather enough courage to lean in and say, “You’re so cute when you get like this. Can I… kiss you?”

Cue mutual heart explosions.

Wooyoung

He lives for it. Like, actually gets high off your shyness.

You say something shyly? He gasps, clutches his chest like you just confessed something scandalous.

“Oh my God, are you trying to kill me with that voice?”

He teases, absolutely, but he also secretly melts every time you duck your head or whisper a compliment.

“Come on, jagi, don’t go all shy now—I like it when you tell me how good I look.”

But when he sees you genuinely flustered or insecure, he drops the playfulness and pulls you into his arms. “I’m not teasing you because I think you’re awkward. I tease you because you’re the best part of my day.”

Jongho

He’d act like he’s unaffected—but you’d see the slight twitch in his lip when you shyly reached for his hand or looked away during a compliment.

You’d say something soft like, “You look really handsome today,” and immediately hide behind your cup.

He’d chuckle, then lean closer.

“Say it again. But this time, look at me.”

He wouldn’t make you repeat it if you really couldn’t—but he would softly thread his fingers through yours and say, “You don’t have to be nervous around me. I like you exactly the way you are.”

And every time you’re shy? He stores it away like a little treasure to replay later in his head.

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latisthegenderfluidwannabealone · 4 days ago

Text

painful reminders || jwy

synopsis: in which your boyfriend undergoes a cramp simulator

cw: fluff, crack, established relationship, intended as a nonidol!au but can be read otherwise, periods, one mention of vomiting, brief mentioned of a period from hell, absolute theatrics, reader calls wooyoung youngie, one jagi used i think?, fem!reader, boyfriend!wooyoung

words: 2641

edited but nobody’s perfect ~.~

an: this is absolutely ridiculous. i cannot stress this enough.

ridiculous

but i have no regrets. had sm fun writing it. okay let’s continue ^•^

✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵

Having to deal with period cramps is arguably one of the top five most painful experiences one has to go through every month or so. You’re sure many agree. And for you, most times on the first and last day, they would absolutely wreak havoc, as if your uterus was out for vengeance.

There would be nothing more you could bring yourself to do than to curl up in a tight ball with a heating pad on your lower abdomen, the strongest painkillers you could find in your system and a whole lot of hoping and crying that it would end soon. And that was when they were being courteous.

It was an awful time, truly despicable and without mercy in every way and you dreaded each time your period drew closer and closer. Which is why you don’t understand why your boyfriend, Wooyoung, would ever want to experience something akin to that.

“What?”

You stared at your boyfriend dumbfounded as he held out the unthinkable machine to you. “It’s a period simulator. I ordered it online. There’s so many of them so it was a little confusing choosing the best one but a lot of people say this one’s the closest to the real thing.”

You blinked. Then again, mouth slightly agape as you continued to look at him with a mix of disbelief and horror.

You shook your head as if to clear your already existing thoughts to make room for better processing of the words that had come out of his mouth.

“So, let me get this straight,” you started slowly.

“You want me—“ you made a point to gesture to yourself for further emphasis—“to put these patches on you—“ you pointed at him—“so that they can simulate period cramps?”

Wooyoung nodded as if you had asked him any other mundane question that required his active response.

“Yes.”

You paused, processing his answer but it still refusing to register in your brain.

“You want to feel how period cramps feel?”

“Yes,” he simply answered again.

You still couldn’t believe what you’d heard was true, trying to convince yourself it had to be some sort of fever dream.

Once I wake up, I have to remember to drink my vitamin C, you thought because that was the only explanation you could think of.

“Willingly?”

“Yes,” he said.

Too calmly.

Too honestly.

He had no sense of apprehension to him, no sense of doubt. He was sure, so sure it bewildered you. What on earth could have possibly possessed him?

You pictured him sitting in front of his laptop and searching for the contraption in the first place, typing in the letters to form the words period pain simulator, and reading through every review for each product meticulously. How many of these products or reviews there were in the first place, you didn’t know.

Did you even want to know?

“Why?” Your question came out a lot more exasperated than you had intended. You didn’t mean for it to happen, you were simply too puzzled to fully comprehend the situation at hand.

He smiled at you sheepishly, his smile managing to dazzle you for a bit, only adding on to your current bewilderment.

“Well, I see how much they affect you and I’ve heard stories of how awful they can feel and I’ve always been a bit more curious. It’s my way of trying to understand you better.”

Your heart swelled but that still didn’t change the fact this was an odd, albeit slightly amusing now, request. You simpered, nearly giving in but still willing to talk him out of him. “Youngie, you don’t have to do this to understand me better. What you do already is more than enough.”

Wooyoung simply shrugged, clearly determined to go through with his plan no matter what you’d say to him.

“You’ve told me you’ve experienced them while doing normal things. I just want to know how bad it could get.” You sighed, admitting defeat.

“Okay. If you insist. But remember, this was your idea,” you responded a little reluctantly. You eyed him with hesitation drawn on your face from the encouraging words he gave you as he handed you the machine and you examined it.

It was similar to the blood pressure monitors you’ve seen before but instead of one sleeve, it had for small patches you had to paste onto your lower abdomen.

You read the instructions carefully before proceeding to paste them onto yours first.

“I’ll put them on first so I can give you an accurate-ish experience of mine.”

You were doubtful this would even come close to the real thing but anything to humour your boyfriend who was enthusiastically encouraging you to proceed, still no qualms about his own future experience with the machine on show.

You eyed him strangely before looking at the screen. There was a giant 0 in the middle that would go all the way up to ten and another graphic of a bar beside it to better illustrate the intensity level. You pressed start, bracing yourself to experience these godforsaken cramps when you weren’t even close to your time of the month.

You wondered if you could even accurately remember them because as soon as you were finished with your period, it was as if you had no recollection of the torment you had gone through.

But when the intensity was on level one and you felt that slight tug in your abdomen, you knew you would have no problem remembering.

The first two stages were not so intense, as expected and you told him so. “This is usually just before my period starts or the day before, warning be that it could start any day now. So not too bad. I think you’ll be fine.”

He nodded fervently. You couldn’t tell anymore whether it was from excitement or nerves.

The machine automatically cranked itself up to three and the pain slightly intensified but still bearable. This was reminiscent of the pain you’d experience on the day you were meant to start. Still nothing bad.

By four, you could clearly feel them and were shocked at how accurate they actually were. “It’s not too bad but this is around the time where I should start making sure I have the equipment I’ll need because it only gets worse from here.”

You could’ve sworn you saw him gulp and his expression was now a lot tamer, as if it was finally dawning on him what he would have to go through.

“Remember, you don’t have to do this,” you reminded him as the pain heightened to six. It was nothing you couldn’t really handle but around the time where you have to make sure your heating bad is prepared and you’ve already taken a painkiller.

He paled when you tell him this but still persisted.

Seven, you told him, was when you’re waiting for the painkiller to kick in but it’s unbearable now and eight is when it’s on your worst days; where your hunched over from the pain, gripping fiercely at whatever was in reach and tears threatening to run down your cheeks. You’ve only ever experienced a nine twice in your life—where you felt so much pain you vomited on both occasions but you wouldn’t let it get that far.

Even you had your limits.

You only had to sit down at eight but was still going strong enough to narrate your experience for him. “Eight is usually the limit. It’s around there where I have to lie down or sit down and wait for it to subside but after I’ve taken my painkillers it lasts around fifteen to twenty minutes so it’s not that bad.”

Wooyoung had grown silent by this time but he seemed a bit encouraged by your vocalisations for each round.

It didn’t stop you from worrying for him.

He helped you put on the patches on himself in the correct spots and stood comically rigid, his back as straight as a ruler and fists clenched on either side.

You snorted.

“We really don’t have to do this. It’s good enough you help me through my time but you don’t have to actually feel what I feel.”

“No, no, no,” het lets out quickly, shaking his hands in protest and trying his best to steel his nerves.

“I can do it. I’ll be okay.”

You sighed before preparing yourself, and him, to press start.

“You ready?” He didn’t respond with words anymore, simply aggressively nods and clenches his jaw.

You pressed the button and at the sound of the click, he screamed.

You immediately stopped and attended to him, concerned. “Are you okay? Did it hurt already?”

If that was the case, you weren’t even sure you’d make it past three.

Wooyoung sheepishly laughed and dismissed his reaction. “I’m sorry, I panicked. I’m sorry. No, continue. I’m ready now.”

You proceeded to press the button a little more suspiciously and cautiously than the first one, your worry only growing.

You saw on the screen the intensity was at level one and the only thing he’d done so far was slightly jolt from the pain. He assured you he was okay and that you should continue.

It steadily jumped from two until three. Wooyoung released an unrestrained curse that startled you but you couldn’t help your giggle. “Are you okay?”

Words had evaded him as he clutched on his lower half but gave you a thumbs up to show he was still fine.

By the time it reached four, more than you what you thought he would handle, his whole face had surprisingly turned a bright red and you could see small sweat beads forming on his forehead. Wooyoung had his eyes clothes tights and he had the same expression like when he was lighting heavy weights.

“Jagi, you have to breathe, okay? You have to breathe or you’ll pass out.”

Your concern was mixed with amusement and as much as you wanted to switch it off, you couldn’t help but find a little bit of sadistic humour at his reaction.

At number five, he let out such a yelp it took you by surprise and you almost dropped the machine but found your bearings soon enough.

His screaming wouldn’t stop now.

You tried to speak to him over the noise but you highly doubted he could hear you but you had to still try.

But before you could speak, Wooyoung fell onto all fours and cursed louder than before. “Should I stop?” You asked him, a bit startled as he crawled on the floor in what was obviously excruciating pain for him.

He shook his head once more (although not as convincing as the other times) but was now full on sweating.

By seven, the most peculiar thing happened: he began to undress.

“Hot…hot…” was all he could manage out as he took off the black t-shirt he’d worn which, if it were a different colour, you were sure would most likely be drenched in sweat.

You knew then that you had to make a quick executive decision and you switched the machine off.

His ragged breathing filled the air, as if he had run a marathon and he looked over at you with a dazed look.

“Why’d you…why’d you stop?” he croaked. “Because you would’ve died and how would I explain to your mom you died from period cramps?”

His haggard breathing continued as he stood up. “I was fine. I could still go on.”

He fanned himself and you scoffed.

“No, you couldn’t,” you said and gave him a sympathetic grin.

Once he’d regained his breath, he looked over to you with a newfound admiration in his eyes. “You stood there and spoke to me throughout that entire thing when it was your turn.”

You nodded.

“I’ve seen you do your chores after you’ve told me you had cramps.”

You nodded again. “I mean, they have to get done eventually right?”

He shook his head, still in utter disbelief. “You spoke to me. You’ve walked around, done your chores and have gone to work…while that was happening to your body?” His voice was tinged with incredulity and respect. You gave him another amused smile and nodded.

“Yes, Youngie. That happens while I carry on with my day. It only really gets immobilising around level ei—“

Before you could finish, he pulled you into a tight hug. You giggled into his arms before putting your own around him.

“I love you. I don’t know how you do it but I’m so proud of you.”

“For cramps?” You looked up at him with scrunched eyebrows.

“For enduring. But I promise you as long as I’m here, even when I’m not, I’ll find a way to make the whole experience a lot more bearable for you. No one deserves to go through that.” He suddenly poured, as if deep in thought. “I wish there was a way I could help everyone,” he mumbled under his breath.

You rolled your eyes at his theatrics but said nothing more.

As if suddenly struck with another realisation, he brightened.

“My mom! My mom’s probably gone through that too! I have to go call my mom and apologise to her!”

Before you could even ask him what exactly it was he was apologising for, Wooyoung had already gone in search of his phone.

You carefully repackaged the machine into the box it came in and prepared to store it when you overheard his conversation with his mom on the phone.

"...And I promise I'll continue to be an even better son that you deserve, mom. I'm sorry for the headaches I've given you. The pain you've already been through is enough, I shouldn't have added on. I love you, mom."

You stifled your giggles as you placed the box in a safe location, hopefully far from Wooyoung's reach again.

When you returned to where he was, he looked dejected. You raised your eyebrows and sat next to him, ruffling his hair. Usually he'd shoo your hand away with more vigor but he only did so weakly this time.

"What's wrong?"

He turned to you with a pout. "My mom. she hung up on me. She asked what I was going on about and then I told her and even told her I loved her but she hung up on me."

You covered your snort with a sudden cough before cooing at him and bringing in him for a hug, hopefully hiding your expression.

"You have to understand it's not everyday you hear your son tell you he willingly experienced something most women hate going through." Wooyoung sighed but cuddled into you more. Just then, his phone pinged and he picked it up, reading the message he'd received and then smiled.

"It's my mom. She says she loves me too and that I should take care of myself and you."

He pocketed his phone and pulled you closer to him again, his mood much lighter than previously, even if you knew he wasn’t all too displeased about his mom’s earlier reaction.

“I promise you and her that you’ll never have to worry about me again. Especially on your period. Or worry about your period, actually. I still can’t believe that happens every month. Every month?”

You chuckled but nodded your head as your boyfriend went on about the unfairness of it all and how he’ll do anything in his power to make sure yours go by smoothly from now on.

And he did.

He insisted on being included on your period tracker and now every time your first or last day near, you always have some painkillers, chocolate and a heating pad waiting nearby and a helpful boyfriend who’s ever so eager to give you any type of message you might like.

✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵

an: i’m gonna try to be consistent with at least one post per month again but i’m back in school rn and the workload is ungodly but i’ll try my best!! anyways i know this might be completely ridiculous but i’ve always wanted to do this prompt with someone and wooyoung seemed perfect for it lol i’ll write something better and more serious for him one of these good days i promise!! okay enough of me rambling bye for now <3

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latisthegenderfluidwannabealone · 4 days ago

Text

Blood Sugar Virus (36)

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

🏆 Esteemed Moot: @ramadiiiisme

⭐️ Reader Spotlight: @mrsminseochoi

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Your decision to draw the zombies and parasites away hadn’t been contingent on any expectation of survival. You only had to run fast enough to clear the west hallway, only far enough to give Yeosang, San, and Mingi a brief window of opportunity to reach Rosé.

There had been no plan at the end of your mad dash through the school, no strategy to trap the hoard or slip away.

It was your moment to save them, to pay your penance.

It was your purpose, your fulfillment.

You’d stumbled on stinging legs and aching feet as far as you could, bracing yourself every second of the way for the end.

You deserved it.

You owed it.

It was your punishment, your salvation.

But every time they’d crashed closer, your brain hadn’t given in, it had kept fighting. Every clawed hand scraping your shoulder boosted you faster, every jostle of a clumsy mouth against your back striking panic in your heart.

When one of them had grabbed your duffel back and yanked you back, you’d thrashed against him so hard that the strap ripped. Some fraying thread of reflex allowed you to catch the broken strap and tug it free before the last of your supplies could be lost to the hoard.

Not yet, your brain had kept screaming. Not yet. It doesn’t have to be now.

When you’d found the open classroom on the east hall and diverted into it, your heart still begged you not to be caught. You’d tugged heavy bookshelves away from the wall with desperate strength and thrown yourself behind them with fear that crushed your lungs.

Not yet.

I don’t want to go yet.

You’d sat there on your knees and listened to them flood into the room, surrounding you with animalistic howling, and your entire will had broken.

This is my punishment.

This is what I deserve.

Let them come.

Let them take me.

But the fear had kept coming.

The panic had just kept creeping in, winding ropes of paralyzed terror around your spine until you had to cover your mouth to silence your cries.

I have to go.

I have to pay.

You could hear the parasites scrabbling around the bookshelves, pressing closer to your hiding spot. The man you’d killed had flashed before your eyes, and gradually, your narrative changed.

This is it.

You’d weighed the possibilities of your survival versus your impending death at the hands of the hoard, and you’d reached the same conclusion.

The fear had retreated, a predator giving up the chase at the realization that the prey was already dead.

The sobs that overwhelmed every muscle in your body no longer cried for help.

You wished you’d said goodbye to Jimin. You wished you’d told Namjoon how proud you were of everything he’d built for you. You wished you’d said something more meaningful to Yeosang, but a part of you is glad you didn’t.

He deserved someone good.

Someone kind.

Someone brave.

Someone who hadn’t chosen her own life over that of another.

He wasn’t someone you could rightfully have.

Your heart broke.

At least I don’t have to live with this guilt.

The pain will be over soon.

The exhaustion would finally end, the terror, the weariness of crawling out of bed before sunrise and falling back into it after sundown.

You’d never again have to stare at your dwindling bank account while the weight of your bills and expenses sat heavily in your inbox, demanding money you don’t have.

Your days of fighting with managers and directors and screaming for basic rights and respect for your team were over.

You wouldn’t have to stuff the weight of your sins into the backpack you shoulder every day and pray that you could carry it long enough to do your job.

This is peace.

The zombies thumped against your weak barricade.

This is justice.

Parasites scratched at the wood of the shelves, screeching wildly.

I can stop pretending.

Glass shattered, wood of the doorframe splintering, wicked creatures snarling over your head.

My debts are finally paid.

The shelves rocked under the weight of the shoving hoard.

My mom will be okay when I’m gone.

And then you’d heard your name. You’d seen his face, watched his hands reach for you like an angel descending from heaven, and you’d shattered.

Fear attacked again, snapping at blood in the water, your body unable to move. Your heart pleaded with you to take his hands, your brain begged him to leave you, to save himself.

Yeosang, please, let me rest.

You could go. His face could be the last thing you see.

One final thing you don’t deserve.

You’d wished with all your soul for that to be your last moment on earth.

But now you’re safe. You’re crushed into his arms, every inch of you pressed into every inch of him, and you feel like you’ve robbed your life back from the hands of righteousness.

“Don’t do that to me.”

All the fissures in your heart that had sealed over when he kissed you split wide open all over again. Throat clenching with another round of sobs that you don’t want to release, you push against his chest and sit upright against him.

The words are on your tongue, a plea to be let go, to be released from your prison of guilt, when your eyes fall to the wetness that soaks the front of his shirt.

His tank top is ripped, glimpses of raw, bleeding flesh peeking out around the shreds of cloth, and you lean back to get a better look. “Oh my god.”

His eyes fall to his abdomen, but his hands slide up your neck to cup your face. “I’m okay. It’s from the glass. I’m okay.”

Your fingers pluck at the fabric, pulling threads out of the exposed tissue, and he winces, jerking back against the desk. Bits of glass are stuck in the wound, painful gouges scraped from his lower ribs all the way down to the waist band of his pants.

“Shit, there’s shards of glass.” You can’t believe he’d held you so tight, pressing your body into stabbing shrapnel that pierces his abdomen. “God, Yeosang, you’re hurt.”

He tries to catch you as you scramble off his lap, but your jerking limbs are too fast. He tries to follow you, but the grunt he lets out tells you he’s in more pain than he’s letting on—maybe more pain than he realized. “I’m okay,” he groans unconvincingly. “It’s not that bad.”

It’s not that bad, he’s not stabbed through. You’re certain it’s only muscle deep, but panic is thrumming under your skin all the same. You find the first aid kit, the one that is miraculously placed in every classroom thanks to the inconvenient but life saving requirements of your insurance company, and hurry back to his side.

“Dammit, Yeo, you shouldn’t have done this.” He’d broken through a window and thrown himself on top of shattered glass just to save you. You peel the fabric away from the wound and grab his hand at it reaches for you, instead pushing it against his chest so that he’ll hold his own shirt up. “What were you thinking?”

His eyes are on your face as you pry the first aid box open and drop it to the floor next to you. After all of the injuries you’ve sustained tonight, you’re not too worried about the risk of pulling the glass out.

It’s not piercing any arteries or organs, and you know first hand that torn muscle can be withstood for at least the few hours he might have left in the school.

Still, the pain that he’s in weighs on you like it’s your own body that’s been stabbed.

“I was thinking I had to get you out of there.” He returns quietly.

Guilt pangs in your chest. “You thought I would want you getting hurt for me? You thought I’d be okay with this?”

He dutifully holds his shirt up with the one hand, but he brings his other up and holds it against the side of your throat as you work. “With all due respect, that was literally the last thing on my mind.”

Your teeth grit with sorrow that masks itself as anger. You use as many of the wipes as you can find to dab at the streams of blood and the dirtied wound around the shards of glass. His muscles clench as he sucks in a pained breath, his hand tightening around your neck.

The contraction releases another stream of blood.

“You thought I’d want to be saved at the expense of your health?” You grumble, wiping at the flesh trickles of crimson.

He gives an easy laugh. “If guilt over me taking a few superficial wounds is the price of you being alive and okay, I’m sorry but I’m gonna have to ask you to pay it.”

When your jaw clenches, tears brimming in your eyes, his hand moves to your chin and tilts your head up to meet his gaze. “I’m serious, Sugar. I really don’t care that you feel like you did this to me. Because you didn’t. And this isn’t the end of the world. It will heal. Don’t carry this. It will heal. You wouldn’t have.”

You pull your head out of his grasp and focus on his abdomen. You pry the first shard out with careful hands and he gasps, body lurching.

“It’s okay,” you whisper. “Just breathe for me.”

He pulls in a deep, trembling breath. “You look like I ruined some divine plan.” He teases you. “I didn’t know you had an appointment with death.”

You tug the next shard out a little harder.

His fists clench. “God, it was supposed to be funny.”

It’s not funny.

As he wheezes through the pain, a smirk curls his lips. “You’re breathtaking.”

“Shut up.” You don’t think you can face that kind of fear again. You don’t think you can offer yourself into the hands of penance and convince yourself all over again to lay down and let it happen. “I wish you hadn’t come for me.”

He doesn’t have a quick rejoinder for that. He lets you gently ease the rest of the glass out and rummage around for the wound spray.

You bite back your regret as he groans at the sting, drowning in guilt as his breaths come in short gasps.

“I will never stop coming for you.” He grunts at last. “No matter how many times you try to sacrifice yourself. I know you’re holding on to what you had to do, but I’m not letting them take you.”

You blot at his raw flesh with fresh towelettes and reach for bandages. The words you speak next are heavy, broken by emotion. “I can’t explain it any more than I already have.“

He watches you work, letting you talk.

“I know what he was, I know what the situation was, but I feel so guilty. I am filled with so much guilt, it’s like it’s corroding my bones.” Your tears fall freely. You’d think you’d be all out of them by now, but they just keep coming. “I can feel it in my ribs. I can feel it in my throat. It’s in my head and my stomach and right underneath my collarbone. It’s just screaming at me, reminding me that I felt a man scream and writhe on top of me as flesh was torn from his body, and I just kept holding him down so I wouldn’t be next.”

His hand cups your neck again, grounding, his thumb sweeping up to catch the tears that slip down your jaw. His expression is heavy with pity, and you can’t look at him.

“There is so much guilt. Like, I don’t want to eat meals anymore, because I don’t deserve it. I don’t want to feel joy anymore. I hate myself for finding peace and comfort in you, and I know that I can’t wake up tomorrow morning, with this night just a hellish memory, and pretend that I’m not being strangled by guilt for just carrying on after I used a person as a human shield.”

You press the last bandage to his abdomen and twist to find the same stupid painkillers that may or may not make a bit of difference. When they’re in your hand, you crawl to your ruined duffel bag and retrieve the last bottle of water before scooting back to him.

He takes them silently, drinking only enough to wash the tablets down.

You drop your hands into your lap and stare at them, sniffling past another rush of tears. “I know it doesn’t make sense. I know he wasn’t a person anymore. I can’t explain it in different words or give you a better reason, I just—I just can’t pretend that my life can ever be worth ending his. I can never do anything worthy enough of choosing his death over mine.”

He presses the water bottle into your hands, and you squeeze it, crinkling the plastic, but you don’t drink.

“They were hunting me. It was me they wanted. I should have died. And you killed two of them to save me. You never should have taken that on yourself, you never should have taken that burden. I caused you to exercise fatal violence against two people. I can’t live with that. I took his life. On my soul, I took his life. I have to forfeit mine.”

The last of the words in your heart settle between you.

Yeosang rasps painfully as he uses the edge of the desk to pull himself to his feet. When he straightens, his pain appears to have subsided slightly, and a free breath tumbles from his lips.

Before you can try to get yourself off the floor, he bends and pulls you up by your hands.

“I hear you.” He tells you. His warm fingertips brush hair out of your face, tucking tangled strands behind your ears. “I hear you, Sugar.” He steps closer and ducks his head until you meet his eyes. “But I’m gonna have to ask you to live with it.”

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latisthegenderfluidwannabealone · 6 days ago

Text

Blood Sugar Virus (35)

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

🏆 Esteemed Moot: @ramadiiiisme

⭐️ Reader Spotlight: @mrsminseochoi

< last chapter | masterlist

Yeosang drags you backwards, and you see his free hand reaching around you to grab the door and pull it closed.

But that's not why you came all the way up here. You didn't leave the safety of one room just to close yourself into the safety of another while the team you came to help remains in danger. Kicking your leg out, you plant your foot against the door to keep it open.

The zombies who haven’t fallen yet, presumably in an earlier stage of development, seem to split into two groups. One of them spins in your direction, drawn by the sound of your foot hitting the door, while the other locks in on the noise that San and Mingi are making as they scrambled away from the hoard of insects scattering across the floor.

“Sugar stop, get back!” Yeosang hisses in your ear, and he hauls you back with him further into the stairwell. You can't break his hold on you, the steel band of his arm around your waist keeping you firmly trapped against the trunk of his body.

“No!” You whisper back. “I'm not leaving them.” You're considering a number of actions you can take to get yourself free, from kicking his knees behind you to throwing your head back and trying to catch his face, when you hear Mingi shout loudly, shattering all attempts at silence.

You can't see him anymore around the door frame, but the panic in his voice throws your heart into overdrive. You're watching the ground at your feet for parasites, seconds away from shouting as loudly as you can to draw the zombies away from your two clients.

But you can't. Not with Yeosang trapped in here with you.

“Mingi, get back!” San's voice yells, abandoning the whispering and sneaking now. “Get back in the classroom!”

You hear San's axe strike wood with an enormous, splintering crash.

Struggling against Yeosang, you reach for the doorframe for leverage. “Let me go,” You're panting. “Let me go, I've gotta help them.”

Mingi shouts again, a curse bouncing off the corridor walls, and Yeosang's arm loosens ever so slightly. The opportunity is not lost on you. Digging your nails into his forearm, you plunge forward with all your might and feel yourself break free—just for a second.

The moment you step towards the hall, you're met with three wasps, scrambling into the stairwell, legs grasping for you.

Your heart clenches with terror and you let out an involuntary yelp, jumping back as one of them bursts forward and a tiny leg touches your socked toes.

Yeosang has you again then, twisting you around behind him in the span of a second and slamming his foot down on one of the huge wasps with a crunch. The other two screech suddenly, rearing back and lunging at him, leaping through the air.

He lets you go, too focused on trying to hold them off to keep you behind him.

One of them lands on his leg, clinging to his shin. He swings himself to the side, smashing his knee into the wall with enough force to crack the plaster, and the wasp falls dead to the floor.

“Mingi, watch out!”

“God, it's right there!”

“Shit, behind you!”

“I got him. Mingi, duck!”

The third wasp in the stairwell makes another wretched sound and throws itself at Yeosang.

Your body is screaming at you to huddle into the corner, away from the insects, or to spin and bolt back down the stairs, but when you see it fling itself through the air and clutch onto Yeosang's calf, an entirely different instinct takes over.

Before you realize you've moved, you're crossing the space and gripping the hard shell of the creature’s body and yanking it off his leg, hurling it towards the door.

It lands on a zombie's chest and clings on.

You've made too much noise, your movements too wild, and the zombie charges at you, arms reaching. Unable to duck away from his momentum without sending him directly at Yeosang, you somehow get your towel out of your waistband just in time to stretch it like a clothesline and hit the zombie's throat before it's on top of you.

His hands claw at your face, at your chest, gripping your sweater and jerking you closer.

“San!”

“There's one right there!”

“Fuck, it's on me!”

“I got it, don't move!”

“Is it dead? Shit, did you get it? San, there's another one!”

“Get down!”

The zombie's teeth scrape your cheek and you jerk back, heart exploding in your chest.

But in the next second you're free, and Yeosang is hauling the rabid man away from you with a towel around his face, flinging him into the corridor. As soon as he lets go, he's stomping at the floor again, frantically crushing skittering wasps under his feet.

You hurry after him, finally rounding the door frame to see Mingi wrestling another zombie off of San while the older man drives his axe through the body of a wasp near his feet.

“They just keep coming!” Mingi screams, constantly turning, searching, fending off the lunging zombies and kicking at the insects all at the same time.

“We have to get back to Rosé.” Mingi exclaims, twisting over his shoulder to try to see the classroom where they'd left her.

San divides another wasp down the middle, barely managing to lift his axe quickly enough to bar it across a zombie's chest and shove him back.

Yeosang has another zombie by the hair, shoving her against the wall as her teeth snap ravenously for his throat.

All of their efforts against the zombies only manage to push them back for a second's reprieve before they're attacking again with ceaseless vigor. The floor is gradually being littered with more and more squashed wasps, but there are so many still scrambling, screeching, hunting for hosts to implant.

You can't stay in the corridor and keep fighting them off until you run out of strength.

The guys can't keep this up forever. They'll be overtaken and defeated before they ever make enough headway to get away.

Your mind is made up before you ever realized you'd come up with a plan.

Shoving a zombie away from you with enough force to knock her into the wall, you push your way towards the end of the corridor where it turns off to the south hall, and then you're yelling. “Hey!” Your voice is so loud and forced that it rips painfully through your chest. “Come get me! Come this way!”

The sea of mad-dashing parasites turns toward you as you stomp your feet heavily against the floor, pounding your fists into the wall. Your heart squeezes in your throat. “Come get me, you fuckers! Hey! Hey! Over here!”

A zombie breaks away from San, turning to you.

The floor clears beneath Mingi’s feet.

“Yeah, you heard me, you military-grown pieces of shit!” It's not as cathartic as sprinting screaming down the hall with Wooyoung and Hongjoong, but you think they would be proud of you all the same.

Wooyoung would, anyway.

A cluster of three zombies disengages from where they're got Yeosang pinned against the wall, lunging at you.

San's eyes are wide. “Sugar, no what are you doing?”

Yeosang meets your eyes in between the rushing throng of zombies headed straight for you. You can't look at the expression on his face. Not without wanting to give up your stupid plan and go back to fighting the hoard with them.

The swarm of insects will reach you first. You have to move. You have enough of the zombies locked on you now that you think you'll clear the corridor of most of the danger when you go.

“Get to Rosé!” You shout over the screeching that's aimed right at you. “Make sure she's safe!”

“Sugar, no!” San lunges toward you, trying to counter your efforts with his own noise. “Come back!”

It does nothing.

You're jumping, flailing, making an absolute fool of yourself, and neither of the starving hoards will be deterred.

You hear your name rip from Yeosang's throat, and it almost breaks your will.

But you can't stop now.

As Mingi grabs both San and Yeosang, tugging them in the opposite direction, you finally allow yourself to flee. Every sprinting step feels like a mallet to your hip, but you don't stop. You don't need to survive this stupid plan, you just have to give the rest of them a chance to.

YEOSANG | SAN | MINGI

A few waspish parasites are still scampering across the floor as Mingi tugs his brothers back down the hall in the opposite direction.

Yeosang digs his heels in, his shirt tearing out of the younger man’s grip. “No, you guys go.”

Both of them stare at him, hesitating. “Let’s go check on Rosé and then we’ll all go.” San argues. “I don’t think you should go alone.”

Mingi’s still moving towards the first classroom, eyes on the floor. “Yeah, it’ll only take a second. We’ll go with you.”

One of the wasps rushes at him, and he lifts his foot and stomps it with one blow. The little creature squashes in a mess of broken shell and smeared guts.

“They’re chasing her.” Yeosang shoots back, still retreating towards the south hall. “She doesn’t have that much time.”

“We all want her safe, but she did that so that we could get to Rosé.” San reaches for him, hopping over a parasite and flinching as Mingi stomps it to death. “She’s smart. She’ll figure something out. Just give us a minute, hyung.”

Indecision flickers in Yeosang’s eyes.

2-1 is five classrooms away. He can still hear the stampede of zombies rampaging down the far corridor, charging after Sugar like a howling pack of wolves.

It won’t take only a second to get to Rosé, ensure her safety, and then double back to try to catch up to the hoard.

He shakes his head. “You guys go on. I’m going after them.” The prickly legs of a parasite brush his shoes and he jumps back, stabbing his foot down on its back. It perishes with a high pitched shriek, twitching once.

“Hyung, she gave us this opening. You can’t just go by yourself.” San is still backing towards Mingi. He knows he’s going to lose the argument, but he can’t just stand by and send one of his brothers off by himself, knowing that he’s running head first into all the danger that Sugar had deliberately lured away.

“I’ll be fine.” Yeosang checks his footing and scrambles back from another wasp. It jumps, grasping for him, long legs reaching for the threads of his pants. He kicks out, flinging it against the wall, and crushes it as soon as it falls to the floor.

His mind is made up.

San can see it.

Mingi gave up the moment Yeosang broke out of his grasp.

“Yeo, we all want to help her. We’re all scared for her. But if you just go running after them, who knows what will happen to you? It doesn’t help anybody to lose both of you like that.” San beckons him closer, desperation on his face. “Please, hyung. Please don’t go alone. She’ll be okay.”

Yeosang won’t be deterred. “You guys be careful. Don’t leave Rosé alone. If I’m not back in a few minutes with her, go down to the room we left from on the first floor. Woo, Yunho, Jongho, and Jimin are already down there.”

San is frantic with fear and uncertainty, loathe to watch his group split up, terrified of watching Yeosang disappear into the unknown. “I know you care about her, hyung, but stay with us. Please. She made her choice, we couldn’t stop her. You don’t even know her. Please stay with us. We have to stay together.”

The last of the parasites is killed beneath Mingi’s shoe.

He spins to face them, looking apologetic. “I’m going after Rosé. You guys catch up. Just stay with us, hyung, we’ll go get Sugar next.” And then he’s turning on his heel, sprinting down the corridor in the opposite direction.

San’s eyes are glistening with frightened tears. “Please, Yeo, you don’t even know her.”

For a second, Yeosang is torn. He watches the tears fall down his younger brother’s face, traces the tension in his shoulders, sees the terror of losing one of his own.

San doesn’t want to go through what Sugar went through. He doesn’t want to watch his brothers fall one by one, only to come back as ravenous monsters.

He’s terrified of letting Yeosang go, only to return as a creature that he has to fight.

“I know her.” Yeosang says quietly, apologetically. “I can’t just let her go.” He spares one last encouraging look, eyebrows furrowed with concern. “Stay with Mingi. I’ll be back.”

He turns his back on San and runs.

Part of him feels like he’s making a mistake, like he’s broken the long-forged bond of his family by leaving. The sight of San’s tortured face stays in his head, flashing before him with every blink of his eyes.

He doesn’t go back.

He doesn’t change his mind.

His path is clear. As he rounds the corner, diverting onto the south hall where Sugar had disappeared, he sees the last of the hoard hurtling around the next corner into the east hall.

They’re still running, still chasing, so she’s still leading them. They haven’t caught her yet.

Yeosang pushes himself faster, legs pumping harder, muscles burning, weary knees lifting high to propel his tired body after them.

He’s alone, plunging down the south hall like a madman. There are no zombies jumping out at him, no parasites scuttling along the floorboards, and soon he stops glancing into open doorways.

He considers trying to be louder, shouting to alert his presence, creating a cacophony of noise to ease the hoard off of her a little, but he clamps his lips tighter and pushes on without a word.

He’ll wait until he can see them again, until he can see her. If she has a plan at the end of her reckless foot chase, he can’t risk thwarting it.

All he can see is the look on her face before she vanished. The wordless determination that wrote itself over her paralyzing fear of the insects rushing at her, the hard lines of her brows, the resolution in her eyes.

Their conversations are coming back to him in snippets, her soft, lamenting voice losing hope in his ears.

From the moment he pulled her out from beneath the pile of zombies that she had saved him from, her demeanor had withered before his eyes.

Through her teasing and bravado, the punishing guilt had been eating at her countenance, gnawing raw edges into the strength of her spirit until every mention she made of survival became a fabrication.

The look she gave him before leading the zombies off into the depths of the school had been goodbye.

That scared him more than the zombies pinning him did. More than the swarm of wasps lunging at his legs, more than the fear of being infested, more than the fear of leaving San and Mingi behind.

He pushes himself faster, faster, until his legs are numb beneath him, muscles burning with a muted ache that travels up his spine.

The closer he gets to the shrieking, snarling hoard ahead of him, the harder his heart slams with trepidation. His body is a rush of adrenaline, but the crashing of his pulse in his ears isn’t physical exertion.

It’s his imagination spinning a dozen of images of what could be waiting for him when he rounds the next corner.

She could be trapped, overtaken.

She could be turned, eyes rolling white with hunger, teeth flashing for flesh—but he pushes that possibility as far into the back of his mind as he can. Even if a parasite catches her, she still has time.

She has the AED; if he can get to her, he can save her from the implanted larvae.

She could be at the bottom of the hoard, her body torn to pieces, dozens of zombies feasting on her fallen body.

He doesn’t hear her over the growling roar of the creatures, but he keeps listening. If she had fallen, if she had been caught, she would be screaming.

His stomach turns.

He can’t see her like that again.

The first time he’d realized she was under the thrashing pile of zombies, the first time he’d heard the tortured scream rip from her chest, the first time he’d run up on the scene of her body crushed under their snapping teeth and clawing hands—he’d never felt fear like that.

Thinking that she’d been killed, that he was watching the monsters tear her apart, handful by handful of bloody tissue, had been the most sickening moment of his life.

He can’t watch that again.

He hits the end of the south hall and grips the wall to fling himself around the corner.

He can see them.

Compared to the relative eternity that it took him to sprint down the shorter length of the building, the hoard hadn’t made it far.

And he can’t tell if he’s imagining it, but it seems like there are fewer of them than there had been when they took off after her.

As he lunges closer, Yeosang realizes that they’re pushing into a classroom, too many of them to fit. The zombies are a writhing wall of shoving, reaching, shrieking people, slipping and falling over their own feet.

He doesn’t see her anywhere.

Yeosang’s heart lurches into his throat, breath coming in gasping pants.

As he closes the distance, a few of the zombies collapse, twitching, and he realizes it’s only a matter of seconds before there are more parasites at play.

He’s mere feet away when he notices that they’re all crowded around the door at the front of the classroom, and that the rear door and the high windows are between his position and the hoard.

A plan forms, half baked, the second his eyes catch on a fire extinguisher clamped to the wall. Slowing his headlong plunge only long enough to wrench the device off the wall, Yeosang draws his arms back above his head and slams the butt of the canister through the glass of the window.

Two of the zombies at the back of the hoard whirl around at the noise, snarling and charging at him.

Yeosang swings the fire extinguisher like a battering ram.

It crunches into the face of the closest one, knocking him to the floor. He plants his foot down hard on the zombie’s hand, preventing it from getting back up. He swings again, another powerful blow shoving the second zombie back.

When she absorbs the blow and lunges at him again, he twists his body and smashes it into the back of her skull, and she tumbles down on top of the first zombie.

He steps on her back, using the stack of two to boost himself up to the ledge of the window.

The shattered glass bites into his palms, wetting his hands with blood and stinging nerves all the way up his arms as he hoists himself up and peers into the room.

His lungs deflate with an involuntary cry of relief.

The room is teeming with zombies and parasites, filled to the brim with no room for even another single person to stand, but he sees her.

She’d managed to get into the room fast enough to push the shelves beneath the window just enough to squeeze herself behind them and crouch on the floor.

The zombies can’t see her, pushing and crawling over each other to try to locate their lost prey, but she’s on her knees below the level of the furniture, hands clamped over her mouth.

She’s crying.

Body heaving with sobs, eyes clamped shut, limbs trembling so hard that he can see it from where he looms directly above her.

The zombies beneath his feet are struggling to get up, but he plants his weight heavily and keeps them down.

Yeosang hisses her name and sees her flinch, head snapping up immediately.

Her eyes land on him and his chest clenches at the watery terror that’s carved into her face.

He flaps his hand at her, gesturing wildly for her to get up.

She’s frozen, eyes darting back to the poor barricade that she’s hiding behind, paralyzed by the fear of being spotted.

Yeosang pulls himself out of the window just enough to stomp at the back of the second zombie’s skull again, stunning her enough to fall still for a moment.

Seizing the opportunity, he throws himself further into the window, glass piercing his flesh as he rests his weight on the frame and hangs low enough to hook his hands beneath her arms and pull her up to her feet.

Sugar lets herself be hauled up, the torn strap of her duffel bag hanging from one hand, but the moment she rises above the level of the shelves, the zombies closest to her give a chorus of howling shrieks and burst towards her.

Yeosang puts his foot to the wall and drags her up towards the window, muscles straining against his poor leverage and the weight of her shock-numbed body.

Sugar finds the wherewithal to push her feet against the shelves as she’s pulled upwards, helping him lift until her upper body is through the window.

She gives a pained grunt and kicks out her legs, but he’s too busy regaining his footing on the back of the thrashing stack of zombies that he’s used as a step stool to see that she’s fighting off creatures grabbing at her legs and feet.

Sugar cries out as her back scrapes the glass and the window frame, and then her body is falling into his arms, throwing his center of gravity back.

Yeosang stumbles off the creatures, bringing her down with him. They crash to the floor with a sound that seems like an explosion, and he can already see the hoard in the doorway start to turn towards them.

He shoves himself back along the floor, tugging her with him, creating enough distance to push himself to his feet and hurl them both into the next classroom. The warmth of her against him disappears as he lets her go and turns back to slam the door shut, bolting it.

Seizing with adrenaline, he trips over a number of desks and chairs to the other door at the rear of the room, and drags it closed too.

The roar of the zombies muffles.

The room is empty apart from the two of them, and for just a second, he can breathe.

Rasping sobs reach his ears and he spins away from the door. Sugar had fallen when he’d released her to secure the room, and now she’s backed against the teachers desk, knees squeezed to her chest, curled in on herself.

She’s weeping into her forearms. Unable to silence herself as her body decompresses adrenalized terror and relief, she tightens herself into a shaking ball and heaves into her knees.

The damaged duffel is discarded on the floor by the wall.

His stomach twists, heart clenching.

Legs only seconds away from giving out, Yeosang pushes desks aside to make a path back to her. The moment he reaches her, he collapses to his knees and drags her to his chest.

She falls into his arms, sobbing like a child into his shirt.

He doesn’t even hear the hoard pounding at the walls and doors anymore. All he knows is the panic of thinking he’d been too late, the crushing relief of finding her alive, the horror of seeing her trapped in a room packed with zombies and parasites, only seconds away from being found out.

Her weight lands in his lap.

He holds her as tightly as he can, guiding her head to his shoulder, tears brimming as he feels her soaked face and hot breaths billowing against his throat.

“Goddammit, Sugar.” His voice is a rasp. One hand threads through her hair at the back of her head, the other curling around her waist. She’s heavy and hot and alive against him, but she’s not dead weight. She’s not torn to shreds, she’s not dying in his arms, she’s not infested by hellish creatures.

“Shit, Sugar, don’t do that.” He presses his face to her shoulder, his own face wet with tears. “Fuck, I thought you were hurt. I thought you were—”

She clings to him, arms thrown around his waist, nails scraping his back. She can’t speak. Strangled sobs hit his throat, her chest heaving against his.

He lets her cry.

They sit there for an eternity.

When her muscles loosen, when her cries quiet, she looses a deep, trembling exhale against his neck. “I’m sorry.” She whispers. “I’m so sorry, I just—”

He sweeps his hand over her back soothingly. “You’re safe.” He breathes. “I got you, you’re okay.”

Her next breath sounds like a laugh. “I mean for falling apart. For this. For sitting on you. God, I’m sitting on you. Fuck, Yeosang, I’m so sorry.” She releases her arms from him, weight shifting as she tries to lift herself off of him.

He can’t think of a worse idea right now. He tightens his grip and pulls her back down. “Stop, don’t say that.” He’s relieved to feel her relax again, letting him keep her still. “Don’t be sorry. It’s okay.”

A shiver runs down his spine when her face finds the crook of his neck again and she sags into his embrace. She pulls back a little as she sniffles, running her tattered sleeve under her nose, and then leans into him again.

He didn’t expect her to give in without a fight, to accept his comfort so quickly, but he doesn’t question it.

“You didn’t have to come after me.” She whispers. “You could have been killed. That was so stupid.”

A laugh breaks from his throat. He can’t help it. He puts his stinging palms to the floor and scoots himself around, sliding both of them so that his back rests against the teacher’s desk. His muscles are trembling wearily, the tightness of his sympathetic nervous system making him feel like he’s just demolished himself in the hardest gym session ever.

“I don’t think you have any leg to stand on when it comes to judging me for stupid decisions.” He informs her, running his hand down her back once more.

She chuckles into his skin, not refuting that statement. “I was trying to keep you safe, not encourage you to hurl your body through a broken window and drag me out of a zombie ant pile.”

“We’ve gotta stop meeting that way.” He quips, leaning his head back against the desk. “Fuck, Sugar, you stress me out.”

She tenses, her trembling body reacting to his words with regret. “I’m sorry.”

He squeezes her tight until the rigidity fades from her posture. “If you’re thinking that I would have rather avoided the stress by not coming after you, you’re wrong.”

She’s still, quiet.

He sighs, his pulse finally lowering enough to allow him to breathe properly again. “You got us out of that hall safely. Thank you.”

He feels her surprise and confusion in the stiffening of her shoulders again.

She was expecting him to berate her, to tell her she’s a burden, to chasten her for her habit of jumping into the fire without hesitation.

She wasn’t expecting him to thank her.

“San and Mingi are okay?” She whispers.

“They’re worried about us. They were headed for Rosé when I left. I told them to go down to the first floor once they got to her. They’re okay.” He hopes. He prays.

Last time he saw them, they were okay.

He tries to relieve a bit of the stress that he can still feel under his pulsing hands. “Am I crazy, or are the parasites easier to deal with than the zombies?”

Her breath hitches. “You’re crazy. You’re fucking insane. God, I was scared out of my mind.”

He knows.

He knew it the moment she disappeared with the hoard on her heels.

He knew it when he found her weeping in the classroom, surrounded by them.

“No, you just have to squish them. Like a spider, you know? Just a little squish.”

She scoffs. “I don’t squish spiders. All I can think about is stepping on a spider and a million tiny spider babies exploding in an Indiana Jones level catastrophic event.”

He grins shakily over her head. “Oh, so you cohabitate with your spiders.”

She shivers. “No I call Jimin over to kill them for me.”

Another laugh rings from his chest and she leans into his embrace once more. “What if there’s a spider in your shower? Do you drown it?”

“I call Jimin over to kill it.” She repeats. “I have abandoned showers mid-hair-wash before and I will probably do it for the rest of my life.”

“You’d rather invite Jimin into your shower than wash a spider down the drain?”

Her fist smacks his chest weakly and his grin broadens. “Don’t say it like that. I rinse my hair in the sink and get dressed and then I make him come deal with it.”

Silence falls between them again, and he feels her shift on his lap.

He exhales deeply into her shoulder, at last feeling the residual terror seep out of his body.

“I’m okay now.” She whispers. “You can let me go. I’m sorry.”

Yeosang pulls his head back, craning his neck to catch a glimpse at her face. Her cheeks are pink, her mouth taught with embarrassment. He can’t think of a single reason she’s apologizing again.

Touching a finger to her chin, he turns her head to look at him.

She lifts her head at his behest, puzzlement drawing her features as she finds him searching her expression.

He reads the blush on her skin, the nervousness in her eyes, feels her hands slowly clenching into fists over his chest.

“Are you okay?” He whispers, eyes holding hers softly. He’s not asking about her health, or her injuries, or her fear.

Is she okay with this? With his closeness? With the intention in his gaze?

Her nod comes slowly, fearfully, understanding.

He brings her chin closer and kisses her.

She gasps against his lips, a quick little inhale that makes his arm tighten around her waist.

His mouth teases hers, gently encouraging, and he’s rewarded by her melting into him.

Yeosang pushes closer, chasing the softness of her lips. It’s warm, yearning, slower than their first kiss.

Her hands slide up his chest, her fingertips lighting fire to his skin as they trace up his neck. He kisses her harder when her fingers slide into his hair, heart slamming as she sucks lightly at his bottom lip.

He pours everything into his firm caresses, the anxiety he’d suffered as he ran, the mind numbing exhilaration when he found her alive, the desperation of pulling her to safety. There’s more, more he can’t say, that he holds her with.

Admiration. Fondness. Adoration. Maybe more.

She gives it all back.

The wetness of her cheeks and his combine, breaths tangling warmly between them.

Her fingers knot in his hair, tugging him closer as her tongue traces his bottom lip, somehow striking him as sensual and soothing all at the same time.

When the kiss breaks, he keeps her close. His pants collide with her soft gasps, but his eyes stay closed. “Don’t do that again.” He breathes against her skin.

Her hands cup his neck, her burning face finding the crook of his throat again. His arms circle her back.

“Don’t do that to me.”

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tag list : @mysterysold @threevracha @igotajuicyass @velvetmoonlght @ramadiiiisme @mrsminseochoi @nightshadeblooming @furfoxsake22 @marvolos @lunaryoongie @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone @noukstmblr

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latisthegenderfluidwannabealone · 7 days ago

Text

silly texts with bf!san

bf!san x gender neutral!reader

fluff, very lightly suggestive in the last one

tw: choi san is a complete simp, swearwords

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latisthegenderfluidwannabealone · 7 days ago

Text

Blood Sugar Virus (34)

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

🏆 Esteemed Moot: @ramadiiiisme

⭐️ Reader Spotlight: @mrsminseochoi

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There are still enough zombies in the hallway to make the task ahead of you seem impossible.

The only reason you don't listen to the voice inside you that screams at you to duck back into the classroom and hide, is that they're all dormant, faces drooping low over their chests, shoulders hunched like it's too much effort to hold themselves upright.

Wooyoung sneaks out beside you, angling himself so that his broken table shield is on the outside, keeping himself between you and the zombies, so you can hug the wall.

You wait long enough to see Yunho, and then Yeosang, step out into the hall after you, and then you fix your gaze ahead. There's only one room between you and the one you left Jimin and Jongho in, and there's a small cluster of unmoving zombies between you and the rear entrance.

After your team advances a few feet without attracting any unwanted attention, you start to feel better about your plan. At this point, by your judgement, you're not planning on dealing with the cameras down the south hall, at least not unless Namjoon thinks you should, just to further throw off the military's observation of you.

The entrance to the stairs leading to the basement is in the stairwell where your earlier group had gotten trapped, at the end of the main hall you're currently tip-toeing down. Maybe it would be ideal to take out every camera in the building, just to spread as much darkness as possible, but you're not sure you have enough time.

Seeing how quickly the parasites had grown inside the people who had been implanted, you can only guess that you're already on borrowed time before the remaining parasites are grown to enough maturity to vacate their hosts and start looking for new, suitable environments to lay their own eggs.

i.e., you and the rest of your surviving group.

You're so close to the first cluster of creatures now that you can smell the sweat on their skin and real blood in their clothes. The lack of the sweet, corn syrupy smell tells you that none of the zombies you're creeping up on are members of your acting team.

The realization relieves you probably more than it should.

It's not like they're any less dangerous, or any less likely to try to tear you to shreds and eat you to feed the parasites controlling them. It's not like they'll be more friendly to you than the strangers that the military trucked in from whatever secret base where they had started this hellish experiment.

You're watching Wooyoung as you sneak around behind the first creature. It occurs to you only now that the piece of furniture he's holding might make it difficult for him to squeeze through without bumping anybody.

And what if their sense of smell is still intact? Had you been this close to any of them before? Could they smell the difference between your uneaten bodies and themselves?

You can't remember if you've noticed any recognition of their olfactory senses.

But Wooyoung presses the shield close to himself and slips through the narrow space without difficulty.

You're standing right up against a cluster of four of them now.

They huff and rasp, like they're mechanically forcing oxygen into their lungs, and shuffle their feet like they have to maintain some kind of movement to keep themselves standing.

You're in the clear in the next few steps, slipping quietly into the next classroom.

One by one, the members of your team follow you inside. The cameras are in both hall-side corners, and you stand back so Yunho can head for the closest one. You feel a nudge at your side, and find Yeosang gesturing questioningly at the doors, wordlessly asking if you should try to close them.

You shake your head. Troubling yourselves unnecessarily with the doors will only risk more time and more noise. But with that judgement call, you have to make sure Yunho isn't going to start swinging on the equipment with the axe and creating an explosion of sound that you're not prepared to defend yourself from.

Hurrying to the corner where he's crawling up on a desk to be able to reach the first device, you stretch your arm up to the only part of him you can reach, and place your hand on his leg.

He finches, twisting to stare down at you through wide eyes. When he sees that it's just you, he lets out a shallow breath.

You gesture to the axe in his hands and shake your head, hoping he understands your poor attempt to communicate. He appears somewhat confused, but as you pursue a laughable series of charades, gesturing at the open doors and then to the cameras, and then mimicking the way you had simply flipped the other camera up to face the ceiling, he shoots you a thumbs up and clamps the axe uselessly under one arm.

Satisfied that he's miraculously received your confusing message, you turn away from him and scan the room nervously.

The four of you are alone for the moment, but you know there’s always a danger of the zombies just happening to wander in at any second.

Wooyoung is posted in one open doorway, Yeosang in the other.

Yunho turns the camera towards the ceiling and then clambers down from the desk to get to the other one.

Since Yeosang is in the front of the room, where you'll take your exit when you're ready to move on, you go to stand next to him. You're regretting keeping your heavy duffel bag slung across your back, because every time you take a step that's not quite cautious enough, you hear the water bottles sloshing around inside.

He looks up as you approach, eyes falling to the hitch in your step that you haven't even noticed.

With his gaze fixed firmly on the bloody patch at your hip, he mouths the words ‘are you okay?’

You nod, settling your weight on your good leg. In truth, the bite at your hip hurts worse than any of the others, and you've been trying not to think about it. Even now, you're trying not to think about the way you can feel the taped edges of the bandage that he'd placed gritting painfully in the raw area of flesh as you move.

Reminding yourself that the pain won't last, that soon enough you'll feel the last of it, you meet his concerned eyes with a pensive stare of your own. You don't really know what's happening between you, or what you're feeling about it. When your mind goes back to the moment in the hallway, replaying the instant that he kissed you unexpectedly, your stomach flutters pitifully.

And all the moments that followed, from him resolutely holding your hand even as the others teased him, to the humorous attempt to ask you out for coffee, all twist your thoughts and feelings confusingly with the sense that something has been settled between you. You can't escape the feeling that something had been established in that short kiss, in the few words spoken between you since it happened.

How had you gone from being the butt of Ateez' jokes about you and Yeosang, to actually watching it come to fruition in some small capacity before your eyes?

Had it always been there, the way they seemed to have spotted it from the beginning?

You had been curious about him from the moment you met him, of course, falling immediately victim to the renowned charisma and fan service that they had all presented themselves with, but you had been training yourself for so long to refrain from any involvement or engagement with clients that you hadn't even acknowledged your attraction to him. In fact, you distinctly remember channeling your impressed surprise at his personality and presence into a clinical analysis of what he might potentially bring to your program experience.

Had your gravitation towards him even back then been a masked sort of interest that you had conditioned yourself to ignore?

From what you remember before the utter demolition of planned events this evening, your earliest connection with him had been when he'd saved you from a fake zombie after Jongho unwittingly sacrificed you, and then proceeded to keep you close to him, going so far as to prevent you from alerting Hobi to your presence once you'd realized something was wrong.

Had he been curious about you even back then?

Had your delight over his intense immersion and commitment to your story been more than professional satisfaction?

Your mind is scrambling for context, desperately trying to search through your interactions for signs that this new dynamic was coming.

Despite your poor attempts at denial, you had noticed your disciplined detachment slipping more and more around him. You remember the stirring in your chest when you first noticed his soft lisp, the heat in your cheeks when you found yourself looking at him for a second too long, the complete abandonment of your emotional barriers during the lockdown, and the utter upheaval of all rational trains of thought as soon as he took your hands and gently scrubbed the blood off them.

Yeosang is still watching you between dutiful glances out into the hallway, waiting for you to explain why you've been staring at him with such a lost look on your face.

You realize that what you're feeling is fear.

Fear that it's not real.

That it's something you actually want.

That it will destroy you.

That you'll alienate him.

That it will end.

Yunho finishes with the cameras and comes to stand near you, nudging your arm to alert you of his proximity. You startle out of your thoughts, glancing over your shoulder at Wooyoung and gesturing him closer when you catch his eye.

With your team ready to go, you have only to resume your earlier positions and move on to the next room. You step up to the doorway where Yeosang is standing, and as he shuffles backwards to allow you and Wooyoung to take your places in the lead, you're studying him.

The expression on his face, pinched with focus, the posture of his body language when he immediately steps aside to let you take the lead, the path of his eyes from the impending hallway, down to the floor to check his footing, back up to you to wait for instructions or a signal.

He, much like most of them, had accepted your role of leadership from the beginning, despite the fact that you're drastically out of your depth and making things up as you go.

He trusts you.

It feels like it should be a heavier burden than it is, but you don't agonize over his faith in you the way you do with the others.

When you realize why, that it's because you trust him in equal measure, emboldened by the way he tells you when he has other ideas that contend with yours, and the way he's taken over control of situations that you can't find the capacity to get on top of, a weight comes off your shoulders.

You're not in this alone.

It's not all on you.

You have room to fail now.

It's a realization that terrifies you and comforts you all in the same breath.

Tackling the rest of the classrooms in the long hallway happens with almost flawless coordination. You and Wooyoung leading the way, choosing the safest routes between zombies that remain dormant, Yunho slipping around you as you reach each room and turning all the cameras, even the ones in the hallway, to face the ceiling.

Yeosang is your faithful guard at the rear, halting your progress every time he spots a creature turning listlessly to face you, never allowing your group to accidentally trip their tenuous capacity to track you visually. Within only a few minutes, your team slips into the stairwell and turns all of the devices in the narrow corridor.

Before you know it, the job is done, and the zombies are still unaware that you've been among them.

In the echoing chamber where Yunho concluded the last of your assignment, you lower your voice and turn to them.

“You guys go back from here. Make your way to my classroom, stay quiet, stay with Jongho and Jimin until we get back to you. No matter what happens, stay in that room. We need to know that you're there. We'll send the team from 2 to you.”

If everything goes as planned, though it rarely has tonight, you'll all be back in the same room together in a matter of minutes.

Wooyoung and Yunho accept your instructions without question, both heading for the stairwell exit.

“We set up the furniture as a sort of shield in case the military starts shooting.” Yeosang tells them. “Stay behind it, and stay low.”

Before they can take their leave, you stop them. They wait as you drop your towel and pull your bag around to retrieve three bottles of water. There's only one left.

“Make sure Jimin drinks one of these. We'll try to find more upstairs to bring back.”

You help Wooyoung hold his table so he can tuck the bottles securely into his waistband. When he's finished, you give them both your best smile. “We'll see you soon.”

Yunho lowers the axe to his side and drags you into a hug that you're not expecting.

“Be careful.” He whispers. “We're all getting kind of attached to you.”

Your heart is warm as he lets you go and grips Yeosang's arm, and you can see the fear written deeply in the contours of his face. “You guys have to be careful.”

“Yeah, both of you,” Wooyoung adds, frowning at you.

“No prioritizing anybody over anybody else.”

When Yunho's words reach you, you vaguely remember them as the ones you told him in anger hours ago.

“We'll be back soon,” You promise him.

You and Yeosang stand in the doorway and watch them sneak back down the hall, successfully skirting the meandering clusters of zombies and finally letting themselves into the classroom where you'd left the others. When you're certain they're safe, you step back into the stairwell with Yeosang and softly guide the latch into place.

Now it's just the two of you again.

You should have taken the axe from Yunho, and the shield from Wooyoung.

But you'll be with the second team soon enough, and they have their own axe.

You'll be fine. You just have to go up the stairs, which is already clear of zombies anyway, and however far down the hall that San and Mingi had made it.

You should be fine.

Turning on your heel to begin your ascent up the stairs, you're stopped by Yeosang's presence suddenly in front of you. He's slung his towel over his shoulder, watching you with empty hands.

“Do you need water?” You ask, reaching back for your bag again to get him the last bottle.

He shakes his head. “No, save it for later.” For a second he just stands there, thoughtful, tilting his head at you.

Unsure of what he's thinking, you blink back, shuffling your weight off your bad hip. It's your turn to be trapped in his gaze, confused by the indecipherable emotions passing behind his eyes.

“Are you ready to go?” You ask. “I don't know what kind of timeframe we're working with.”

His hand finds your arm before you can slip around him. He's still giving you that concerned look, head cocked to the side in away that makes you think of Rose back in the office, securely wrapped in Mingi's arms.

Is this how she had felt?

Yeosang's hand is hot on your arm, his expression just as warm. “If you want to rest for a minute, we can.”

Startled, you can't stop the confused frown that forms automatically. “We haven't been running.”

“We might have to soon. It's okay to take a minute.” His brow furrows slightly. “Your hip is bothering you.”

It is, but not enough to stop you from going upstairs and making sure the rest of your people are okay. “Yeah, but I'm good to go. Do you need to rest?”

You're anxious to put your eyes on your friends and see for yourself that they weren't caught in the rampages, but you won't take this moment of respite away from him if he needs it.

Yeosang's lips curl in a soft smile. “No, I'm okay.”

This time he lets you move around him towards the steps. “I just need to know they're okay. I'm sorry if this is too much.” You feel bad about dragging him away from the safety of the room with the others. “If you'd like to go with them, I can carry on from here.”

He just mounts the stairs with you, this time unbothered by your offer to release him from his foolish promise. “I know.”

The response surprises you, but you don't slow your climb. “I'll make sure they get back down safely.”

“I know.” He says again.

But he's still following you.

“Yeosang,” you take a breath, trying to sort through the maelstrom of messy thoughts that have you feeling frustrated again. “I don't know what I did or said to make you think I expect you to follow me, or feel responsible for me. If it’s some of that shit that Jimin said to you, I want you to know that you can ignore him. He's pissed that he's out of commission. If he could, he'd be the one refusing to let me out of his sight, and since he can't—”

You break off when you realize he hasn't said anything.

He's watching the steps as he climbs, listening to you.

You almost feel bad, because you know you sound like you're discounting your intimate moment in the hallway, and all the moments leading up to and following it, but you're not.

You just want him to know that you don't expect him to be glued to your side just because you shared an adrenalized kiss. You don't expect anything from him, especially since there's now a very large part of you wanting him to stay next to you. You have to be sensitive to the fact that you're now allowing your emotions to get involved, and you have no intention of letting them cloud your judgement and potentially get him killed just because you like having him at your side.

“You didn't make me feel like I have to do anything.” He says quietly.

“I don't understand,” you whisper back. You don't understand why he's installed himself next to you, of all people, during this horrible night. He came here with his brothers, shouldn’t he be with them, focusing on their companionship and survival instead of out here with you?

It doesn't make any sense.

“What don't you understand?”

You're on the second floor landing now, mere feet away from the door, but you can't move. Not yet. You turn back to him. “I don't understand what I did.” You're explaining yourself badly, but you don't know how to tell him what you're thinking. “I don't know why you don't want to go back to the classroom.”

That's not at all the root of your confusion, but you can't spell out every pathetic question tumbling through your mind right now. To your relief, he seems to understand enough not to ask.

For a minute he just stands there, thinking. It's a long enough pause to make you shift your weight from side to side, wondering why you chose now to have this conversation.

Finally, he takes a breath and lets it out slowly. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

The words hit you with some finality, like he's answering all of your questions in the simplest way possible. But you've heard that before, from less than sincere concerned parties, so you square your shoulders and pluck at the damp sections of your sweater that are sticking uncomfortably to your skin. “But I can do it alone.” You reassure him honestly. “I can handle it. I’m okay with being the one to look out for people. It’s what I'm good at.”

He nods agreeably. “You are good at it. That doesn’t mean you have to do it alone.”

You appreciate his concern, but the sentiment means little to you. “If I'm the one out here doing the work, then I don't have to worry about you guys once I've seen that you're safe.”

“You'll worry anyway"

You shrug, because he's right.

“They're okay with you being the one to handle it alone? Your team? When you take on all the details that no one else handles?” his head cocks curiously at you again, and you have to look away, pretending you're listening to the hall beyond the door.

“They don't know about most of it.” You admit, but you don't know why you're telling him this.

"And you're okay with that?" Yeosang asks you, watching the way your face blanks out when you nod.

"It's easier that way.” You say truthfully. “It allows me to do more for them without them trying to stop me.” You find his gaze again, nervously bringing your conversation back on topic. “So you don't have to come with me. I can do this on my own.”

“I don't want you to." He returns easily.

You want to feel touched by his words, and it annoys you that you're feeling too much frustration to appreciate what he's telling you. You huff and reach for the door. “You really enjoy making my life more difficult, don't you?”

He just grins at you, hiding a small laugh behind his hand. “I actually was thinking we made a pretty good team."

Flushed with embarrassment, because you'd also come to value and trust in what he contributes to your efforts, you give him your back and clear your throat. “Yeah, we make a pretty good team."

Your name reaches your ears, deep in his throat, and your hand pauses in reaching for the door. You're kicking yourself for the power he's gaining on you when you feel the warmth of his hand against your back. “When I asked you not to send me to another team, I meant it.”

You don't remember him asking.

His hand feels hot against your back, and your face is so red that you know there's no way he can't see it.

“Let me help you."

This time it doesn't feel like everyone else's shallow sincerity. He's not giving you the ‘let me know if there's anything I can do’ routine that everyone always gives you. He's next to you, refusing to go back down the stairs to relative safety, about to follow you into the unknown for the countless time tonight, telling you to share your burden with him.

Selfishly, you don't even want to deny him. “Okay."

"Okay." His thumb brushes you once in a sweeping motion and you feel a shiver race down your spine to flutter around your stomach.

You push the stairwell door open.

The sight that greets you surprises both of you.

More zombies, grunting and rasping in the same sort of small clusters that they'd formed downstairs, twitching slightly at the soft sound of your door swinging open, but otherwise dormant.

And, sneaking through the throng just like your team had, San and mini making their way toward your end of the hall, reaching up and pulling camera plugs and turning lenses.

They'd continued with the plan just as you had, already more than halfway done.

They spot you and Yeosang immediately, San instantly putting a finger to his lips as though you don't already know to be quiet.

Mingi brightens upon seeing you, tossing you an excited wave.

You wave back, and glance behind him. Other than the silent hoard of zombies, they're alone. You wait until you catch Mingi’s eye again, and then make your lips form the exaggerated shape of Rosé’s name in question.

He understands instantly, gesturing behind them and tossing you a reassuring thumbs up, and you assume that she's back in 2-1, waiting safely as planned.

Relief crashes over you at the knowledge that another one of your teams is safe and sound. Focusing on how to meetup with them through the crowd of creatures, you start looking for an opening.

Before you can take even a single step, you notice one of the zombies behind San and Mingi suddenly jerk, posture straightening.

Your heart slams in your chest. Your hand lifting abruptly to point a warning finger.

Mingi spins on his heel, spine rigid with panic.

Yeosang grips your shirt as another one of the zombies, this one closer to you, makes the same stiffening jerk.

The one behind Mingi falls to the floor in a heap.

The one in front of you crumples as well.

Shit.

Dread cramps in your stomach.

Most of the zombies around you start exhibiting the same terrible behavior, lurching as though someone pinched them, and then crumbling to the ground limply, like puppets with cut strings.

Yeosang's hand on your shirt pulls you back into the stairwell doorway.

San and Mingi are watching the zombies collapse around them, eyes wide with panic and confusion.

The zombies who don't fall begin to stir at the sounds of heavy bodies crashing to the ground. Their faces lift, heads cocking to listen, some of them turning sharply at the frantic scraping of San and Mingi’s shoes as they try to dodge the tumbling creatures.

You can't breathe. You can't think.

Yeosang's arm circles your waist, tugging you back into him and further out of the hallway as your eyes fall on the first one that collapsed.

Long, twiggy black legs appear, curling over the zombie's throat.

Panic crawls up your throat, choking you.

The fallen zombie closest to you is faced away from you, giving you a clear view of the waspish parasite that crawls from the back of his neck like the horrific hatching of an egg.

The waking zombies are lurching, lunging at the slightest sound, while all around them, parasites vacate their hosts and skitter out into the hallway.

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