#a friend explained to me a fic with major character death

[sweeteastart]

Warrior sketch from @linkeduniverse 🪻

[cirqosmos]

Did I, A Side Character Became the Male Lead's Wife?!

2023 | 13+ | ONESHOT | YANG JUNGWON × READER | -> PART 2

SUMMARY you — a side character in a royal novel doing absolutely nothing but enjoy your rich ass yet boring life, only watching over the female lead and doing your job in protecting her, only for a pair of kittenish eyes to fall not upon the female lead but on you, unfortunately.

AUTHOR'S NOTE not me writing a whole ass oneshot at 5am bcs of that sweet ask from that one anon, imma name u serotonin dopamine anon lmao- and jungwon bae u r truly my muse.. also inspired by sum manhwas cuz I binge read 90+ chapters in less than a day 💀💀💀 plus happy 900+ followers for me <333 mom wake up I'm famous even tho I'll never let u know what my secret writing blog is about 😊😊

a side character, how cute?

well, you only came to know of this very horrible (not really) fact that you're nothing close to a main character's vibes cause look at you babe, where's the sparkling shiny starry dust on you as you walked through the red carpet at the ball?

and did they even spare a glance at you? unfortunately, nope. because the female lead, Liz; was your enemy, at least in how your character was written in the novel by the goddamn author which was you.

yes, that's right!

you, a hella introverted author dwelling in the deepest corner of her room doing nothing but spent an ungodly amount of hours creating the perfect and enchanting characters after crying for major character death of a fic a few years ago. wiping your dripping tears off your cheeks in a comical way as you pull open your laptop and risk your 20/20 vision for life, just so you can reverse the aching pain in your chest that you wore a thick ass glasses now.

Liz, the female lead. Swooning over her was your religion, throwing not one but a ten whole buckets explaining how perfect she was—or how tremendously kind she was, delicate and utterly sweet. patting yourself on the back for creating such a goddess of a character, so it's only wise for you to give her a fitting male lead, right? Okay we'll talk about that later since it's about you right now.

So how did you end up in your novel? Well, because of one fateful day of you doing absolutely nothing but taking a goddamn rest, and whoever the god in heaven that just randomly decided to throw you in the novel you wrote yourself—must be utterly insane. Perfect indeed!

it took you a humongous realisation to see yourself in a dark green puffy dress that represents jealousy, envy, and betrayal—which also represents the side character standing behind the female lead on the thick cover of your book. you've originally written her as that wicked best friend that uses her seductive way of speech to seduce men, and at last turning her back at the female lead by accusing her of a horrendous crime.

her fatal fate consists of her head being snapped by the guillotine, unfortunately. but for you, not really, cause you are so in for destroying wicked characters but jokes on you—you're now in the body of that character.

pfft, can't the gods put you in a character that lives near the sea, with your straw hat on and as you drank your lemon juice away from the public drama, angsty dialogues, cringe moments you yourself have created because you don't have atleast an ounce of social skills that's why you pour it all on your characters.

"oh my apologies, milady— pfft—" three ladies sticking with each other like a super glue, had thrown the glass of wine on the female lead's gown—earning a series of gasps from everyone who saw but you were sure won't pay an ounce of consideration towards her as you had written almost everyone in this novel as "the world against the weak, fragile character."

oh, right. the hyena laughters of those you describe in episode 3 of "the flashy ball"; the three evil sisters, because why not? they added the extra spices in your tongue to the point you couldn't wait for them to get slap by the female lead or possibly someone.

ah, the tremendous satisfaction.

and you were one of that person whose hands itching to smash their skull apart, you cringed enormously at them as they were the ones that brought total trouble wherever they went or whoever are unlucky enough to get in their way. unfortunately, you seal your female lead's fate with them as she need some little obstacles, doesn't she?

you as hell were not sure what you're supposed to do, whether to just let things happen as the story goes or you do the male lead's job in protecting the female lead cause you have no idea why is he taking such a long time to appear, when he should've made his grand entrance at the freaking introduction?

and you wrote it that way cause you got fed up with male leads making their first appearance at the ball, and somehow quickly gaining the female lead's heart like Cinderella cause dear lord where's the slow burn?

just say, you're a conservative grandma type of a mindset or that you are skeptical over love at first sight. yep, you're right. that's why you ain't gonna let your precious female lead get bullied in front of your very eyes. she's like your granddaughter right now, seriously.

a shriek echoed through the entire ball, gaining everyone's attention. "oh my god! my dress! you— lady Liz! who did you even brought with you?!"

oh right, you forgot it's your first time at the ball either. "my apologies, milady. it's just that i saw a bunch of hyenas roaming around.." you rubbed the back of your neck.

"hyenas?! guards—"

"chill, what's the commotion here?" a bright dashing blonde haired man in a red royal suit came around, with sets of stars dusting upon his form which you already realise to be part of the main characters but unfortunately you forgot. you ain't having that extra superhuman memory just because you are an author.

the bunch of hyenas before you reasoned with the prince, but you slowly realise that the prince was none other than Prince Jake. Inspired by that one puppy image idol from fourth generation of kpop, you were apparently slurping your noodles in the local restaurant when you watched him imitating a dog from the tv, causing you to choke on your noodles.

it's safe to say, he's hot enough that he had to be part of your main characters. aah, that signature dashing smile of his as he defended the female lead with his wisely chosen string of words which immediately melted everyone's heart at sight.

times like this you wish you were actually the female lead, but the logical side of you beg to differ; you are not emotionally capable of spewing cringy romantic words for that's only reserved for writing. So thank you, i'll pass.

Surely, Prince Jake ain't the male lead for your precious female lead but you just let them converse with each other despite her with her absolute kindness, urging you to talk with them too, atleast a word. it sort of felt for a moment like she was trying to match you with the prince.

like no please, you'd rather not to. hot guys are hot, but they're not worth the emotional investment past the fangirling section.

plus the prince doesn't seem interested you as he doesn't spare not even one look at you which obviously you couldn't care any less, you sneakily went out the ball after a series of mishaps—for example your heavy puffy ass gown with its sole purpose to only look pretty but the reality ain't that pretty to say the least, panting like a dog as you took each step towards the entrance all while cussing yourself for ignoring your logical part of brain that you shouldn't have been adding humongous useless words to describe the gown just to make it sound extremely pleasing to the readers.

now you're the one to bear the consequences of your own writing, the fuck.

"one! two!—" a long, long, depressing sigh echoes. "three! ah!—" consequently falling upon your face, what a perfect day indeed. you just wanted to go home, tuck yourself in your comforting blanket, eat your hot cup of ramen or indulge yourself in the sea of chocolate while daydreaming of your favourite idols and fictional characters.

not this awful disaster of you getting tangled in the courts' affairs.

"i suppose, you need help, milady?"

oh no, certainly not. don't call me milady, pretend i do not exist for i certainly do not have the social skills to pretend that i like you, or form a decent conversation especially with men.

"milady?"

you curled yourself, burying your head into the comfort of your gowns. wondering quite a bit of how odd you look in the middle of the hallway.

"milady?" his voice-like whisper came closer, obviously standing beside you right now. "are you okay?"

fuck it. "please, i beg of you to kindly leave me alone as my day has been utterly ruined and—" oh wait, he seems oddly familiar. those lush fluffy hair and kittenish orbs that only softens among those he were close enough.

prince jungwon.

oh! the male lead, oh my god! your jaw hang so low it fell on the ground, your eyes sparkled in dozens of star like universe as you took in his marvelous beauty that you had spent creating meticulously after studying all the '101 rules of how to create the perfect male lead that had the readers heart evaporating & a huge ass green forest that certainly would cause blazing flames'.

"oh my god! you look absolutely gorgeous, i've done it really well didn't i?! oh my god!"

"o-oh—! absolutely, you did well!" he immediately replied back, pressing his lips tight nervously.

wait what? what did he say? oh shit, oh well, covering your mouth instantly as you accidentally let it out before the prince, your precious male lead that you solely created for the female lead. "i—.."

the prince, your very precious character—obviously taken aback with a slight blush dusting of his adorable cheeks as he raise his fist up to his lips, coughing a couple of seconds. a personality trait you very well are familiar of cause that's how you wrote him when he fall in love with the female lead.

your eyes ogled out at that familiar sight, screaming at the back of your mind—wait, wait! you're not supposed to fall in love with me, you idiot! go back! go inside the ball, she's inside there!

"that's oddly brave of you, milady. i'd certainly go as far as to say that i've never seen such traits from a lady." kitten eyes softening at you, crouching down as he lend both of his hands for you. you raised your eyebrow confusingly at what is he trying to pull at but you realise he was intending to get you up.

"u-uhm? uh, sorry. i could get up on my own, actually." yeah, that's what you did. pushing yourself back up despite his protests because you ain't gonna let him fall any further for you, nah uh, not in this life, your mission is to get him and your female lead together inside the frames of birds holding flower wreaths as they went on to their happily ever after.

not with you!

"may i have the honour to know your name, though, milady?" why the fuck isn't he leaving, what is there so interesting in you that he is still standing here asking you such generic questions.

you shouldn't be having the characters attention on you as you obviously wrote it that way, and that even though your character in the novel had tried to get the prince's heart, despite resorting to foul actions, that he never truly had been attracted to her despite this characters' seductive aura.

for you squealed so loud at the scene you wrote, with jungwon putting her in her place. "you are not her, and you would never be her." along with the bunch of your readers hosting a flamboyant celebration under the comments, screaming over how loyal he was.

so what in the actual fuck is this?

"you don't need my name." you nonchalantly answered.

"my apologies?"

"you see, my best friend is in the ball—" you gestured your hands to the entrance of the ballroom, "and she needs your help more than i do."

"wait? why would she need my help?" his eyebrows knitted together in utter confusion as you pushed him through his back.

"of course, she do! don't ask anything!"

"wait!— my name is!" he forcefully turn to face you again, but you immediately covered his mouth with your hands—kabedonning him against the wall.

an excruciating silence occured between you two in the silent hallway, Jungwon freezing to his core when your other hand shoot beside his head.

"listen i don't need your name, dear sir." you emphasise each word, you certainly don't need to know his name nor his status as a prince, not wanting to risk any possible connection with him judging by how he acted before you just now.

"b-but!" his words were muffled into the void as you cupped his mouth tighter.

"shh, shh. stop talking and listen, will you?!"

jungwon nodded slowly, what an odd situation he was in right now, he thought. but somehow he likes it.

"so first step, is go inside the ballroom. second, look for the lady in pink gown, and third—"

"t-third?"

"third is tell her your name! my best friend needs it more than i do!" you release him from your grasp as you went to swing open the huge double door, "now go!" waving a goodbye before kicking his body through the entrance, pulling the door back with your entire strength despite his protests.

oh of course, you finally let out a gag after suppressing it in front of him the entire time as you've never had a proper conversation with a male without stuttering, somewhat a sad tragedy for you, unfortunately. you felt quite guilty about your readers who swoon over the romances you wrote between your leads, weeping over how you're so good at it—not knowing you're a complete introvert with only a gigantic ass dictionary with you.

finally, the male lead and female lead's romances are about to start! you squealed with your hands clasping as you went on your way to the carriage, gesturing for the rider to embark on the way to your heavenly puffy manor with the widest big grin ever that it had him questioning you, "has any gentleman had caught your heart, milady? a couple of hours ago, you were often beyond distraught to attend the ball but insisted when you heard Lady Liz was going."

"oh, you silly." you giggled as you swayed your hand, "of course, that's one of the reasons. but there's another one.."

"may i ask what is it, then?"

you leaned in closer, urging him to get closer as you whispered. "i got the chance to become a Cupid!"

"a Cupid?" you squealed before the old man, hopping like a child for quite awhile before flying into the carriage much to his surprise, but only shook his head in amusement—appalled by how his mistress had changed so much.

"so?" you couldn't help yourself from pulling out the widest eccentric grin at the female lead, extremely curious and ecstatic over what romances had bloom between her and Jungwon.

Liz raises her eyebrow in confusion, "so?.. what do you mean, milady?"

you shrugged, falling back to your seat as you raise your eyebrow in a comical way, "that.." whispering ever so seductively, "prince."

"p-prince?

"yes!" the teacup rattles at your excitement oozing so much that you tapped the table a couple of times. "what happen? what's the tea~"

she lets out a soft giggle, a bit amused by your excitement. "i have no idea what you're trying to imply, milady."

"wait? what are you saying? didn't the prince went to you last night?"

Liz shook her head slowly, her expressions clearly stating that she absolutely don't know what and who you were talking about as a smile pulled up on her lips once again, taking a few sip from her teacup.

veins popped out from your neck as it dawned on you, your head snapped towards the castle on top of the mountain, you stupid of a prince! you cussed at him endlessly at the back of your mind, tightening your fist as your ears and nose fuming in anger. how dare he? he didn't listen to you at all? what in the actual fuck? would this somehow divert the original route? a dozen question arise into your mind one after another, causing you to let out an exaggerated sigh.

facepalming yourself as you imagined the imaginary heavenly light on top of you, weeping to yourself about how tremendously unlucky you are to have a hard headed male lead. it's impossible, you have never added a trait so irritating like this in his profile so how could this happen?

"milady?" the gentle voice of your precious female lead pulled you out of your inner desperation, you leaned in closer, whining so much over how unlucky you were and such, the rest only being in your mind as you pouted.

"ah, i remember now, the prince—"

"WHAT?—" you immediately seated yourself after giving her a potential heart attack, "my apologies, what did you actually.. remember?"

"i assume you were talking about the prince from yesterday? prince jake?"

"no not that bitch— oh certainly not him, ehem.." you took a couple of exaggerated coughs, avoiding her evident confusion. "isn't there a prince.. name jungwon with you that night?"

"oh my goodness! right! prince jungwon!" she shook her head in disbelief with her finger on her head.

right, how did you even forgot that the female lead in front of you had a "weak ass memory" in her profile description. tsk tsk, truly a forgetful author you are. you should be trying your best to remember the things you wrote before and revise it as best as you can, to avoid any possible problems in the future, atleast.

"right, how did i even forget, the prince asked me for your name, milady—"

"huh?" you look at her with confusion, as you were out of reality a couple of seconds ago. your orbs terribly widened as her words slowly sinking in to your brain. "HUH?"

ask your name?! why your name, why not hers?! what did the prince ate that night before stumbling onto your way that he had to ask for your name before the female lead—his own lover?!

laughing awkwardly, you raise your leg on top of another as you nervously swayed your hands repeatedly. "oh dear, oh dear. you might have heard it wrong, the prince?—" snorting outloud as you gestured to yourself, "asking for my name? what a funny news!"

"i didn't, milady. the prince came to me and asked me for your name, as he was immensely curious of who you are so i—"

"so what?—" you can't believe this, you really can't bring yourself to believe any words she was uttering. you should have been bestowed by the news that the prince had taken an interest in her, a hand in marriage, or anything, anything as long as you're out of the picture! "y-you didn't tell him my name, d-didn't you?"

"of course, i did!" exclaimed she did with the widest grin ever.

why are you so freaking happy over this?! clasping your head in your hands as you tragically fall on your knees causing the lady to gasp in shock, ushering to your side to get you up.

"milady?! what's wrong?"

"d-dear," you pouted as you look up to her, "you didn't tell him where my manor's at, r-right?"

she simply replied, "i did? the prince informed me that he's going to send a letter for you to be his partner to the ball."

an imaginary arrow struck back to your heart, forming a humongous hole that threatens to give you a panic attack. what? what in the actual fuck? did you accidentally did something to divert the original story you yourself created? but you didn't even do anything! you tried to do your best to keep the interaction with him as short as possible and he dared to take an interest in you?!

"milady, a letter from the royal palace had arrived for you."

"discard it. throw it. keep it away from my sight."

"milady?!" Liz and the head of the maid exclaimed in utter shock at your nonchalant answer.

"forget about it, forget about it." you clasped your forehead in utter disappointment, yet your brain were creating another plan b for this unexpected turn of events. what should you do? even more so, what would you do now that the prince had asked for you to be by his side to the ballroom?

this won't do, you won't let this happen—you had to look as unattractive and ugly as possible for him to cringe on and finally divert his attention back to the rightfully person who deserved it; the female lead.

your maids could only fall apart every single time you pluck out the enchanting gems they attached on your hair, ears and wrists. their efforts deemed futile as always as you had no mood for any sort of events, it was like a slap to their face as you initially weren't like this. you overheard them that they couldn't get used to how you were adamant in staying behind the spotlight as you often did your very best in dressing yourself up before, with the sole intention of gaining the favour of men and even more better, a prince.

of course, they are totally oblivious to your real identity. only a series of jaw gaping one after another with your change of character, at first—you had a dilemma over whether you should act like the character you created but you later scrap the idea as soon as the anxiety of being engulfed in the crowd suffocated your chest. opting to avoid as many as balls or public events as possible, but that obviously didn't work out that well since you heard of the female lead's arrival from the country side—just like you intended it to be.

and being the proud mother (writer) you are, of course why wouldn't you take one single look at her and see of how far she had came? but alas, one interaction leads to another one and so on—till finally, you became her best friend throughout her entire journey. waiting for the male lead's arrival, and watch their romances blooming and per se—but oh well, look at the situation you were in right now; total disaster.

you truly despise being in such an extravagant puffy gown and the numerous accessories hugging your skin, it's tremendously uncomfortable that you wanted to rip it off part in front of the prince standing before you right now, and right here.

asking for your hand to dance with that odd kittenish smile, that you swore you had never ever written in his personality profile; he should never have been this casual and chill over a person he had just met. he should've been cold as fuck, icy to touch, and a spiralling disaster if you dare to talk to him, so why?

plus how could he have taken an interest in you? you couldn't possibly have added a dose of the love at first sight trope, didn't you? you despised that trope to your very core.

"milady? may i?" he extended his hand before you, patiently waiting for your answer.

you had decided that you're going to reject him quick and efficient—just like the local fast food restaurant your mouth kept drooling over for, smashing a five star review for their inhuman speedy delivery.

"you see, prince jungwon. i have no desire to have a connection with you, a relationship, as a matter of fact."

he raised his eyebrow, seemingly unfazed by your bold words. "i'm curious milady, why so? have i done something that perhaps had annoyed you?"

cliché question, you loathe that. "what if i said you did?"

"then tell me, milady. i'll try my hardest to own up to you—" he took a steps forward, which causes you to immediately step back as well with a frown on your face. you can't, not in this life, to even give him a single chance to get close to you. nah uh.

"no need, and stay one meter apart, please." you pointed your index finger towards the floor and he hesitated, but complied immediately.

"i." you raise your index finger back to yourself and then at him, "don't like you. do you understand?"

"b-but?"

"stop questioning me, prince jungwon." you stayed firm in your spot, "i believe it's a common decency to step back when a lady had voiced out her opinion, a prince like you certainly would understand, am i right?"

Jungwon was clearly taken aback, the fact that you didn't give him a single chance to utter a word nor take a step closer was a hard punch to his face. It feels as if he was trying to reach for you, but you efficiently dodged it with ease. It kind of.. annoys him.

"base on how you didn't say anything anymore, i assumed we're done here! well then, goodbye prince jungwon." you turned your heels towards the entrance, not bothering to waste any time at this goddamn ball. "i hope this will be the very last." you scoffed inside your mind, eager for the story to return to it's original route, and that the prince would soon deem you useless and such—returning to the female lead's arms.

hm, now where's your precious female lead? she should've appeared right now and right here, strike the pot while it's hot!

"i'm afraid i can't back down that easily, milady." jungwon took a few steps forward, wrapping his hand round your wrist as he spun you around to face his eyes filled with blazing determination. one that you specifically added on top of his profile so that your readers would kept it in mind.

your breath hitched down your throat as you remembered there's only two reasons he could have this; one that reminds you when he was at war, shouting at the top of his voice to encourage his soldiers as they push through the enemies, and another reason of it appearing is when he have to get what he wanted, or else all hell will break loose, chaos will ensue.

right, you're truly an idiot. staying a few years in this novel without any memories, and only for it to surface back when you stumble upon the library—dozens of books flickering a series of eccentric images in your mind. It had cause you to lose all memories of important details, only emerging everytime you are presented with a situation you couldn't comprehend. such as when you forgot that the female lead had memory problems and such.

"i'll only present this choices to you, milady. since you tremendously intrigued me over how well spoken you were and fascinating indeed—" bitch, you don't even know how you had the sudden ability to confront him but you were just sure as hell that you don't want to ruin your own novel. no fucking way.

you can't let him have the upper hand on you.

"let me go." irritated to your core, you tried untangle Jungwon's tight grasp on your wrist but he won't budge even an inch which only had you fuming in anger. "i said let me go, bitch!"

the crowd emits a series of gasps and murmurs as you spun around—twisting the prince's arms which had him yelping in pain, and ultimately pinning him onto the ground. with rage consuming you that nothing was going in your way, you slammed your hands on the both side of his head. clenching your jaw and gritting your teeth as you emphasised each word. "you are one a dumb hell of a bitch, when i said i do not want to see you anymore. i mean it. so—"

"so what?" his smug look resurfaces, one that emerges whenever he was being challenged. yes, do that! he should despise you, not take an interest in you! he should loathe you so much that he can't even gaze at you for a second. excitement surged through your veins as you open your mouth, preparing for the last blow.

"so, get lost. just because you're a prince doesn't mean every girl would fall for you, idiot."

an even more louder gasp emits from the crowd as they clearly heard what you said, their jaw gaping and some covering their mouths with their hands as their mind are now bombarded with random questions over how exceedingly brave you are to insult the royal prince, and of what fate will you met now that you've done such an atrocious act.

a low giggle sent shivers down your spine, and goosebumps to riled over your neck as you realise the prince under you had the widest smirk on his face. you frowned deeply, he shouldn't be smirking! he should be fuming in anger and throwing you out of the palace at this moment. so why?!...

"oh milady, how truly fascinating you are." you let out a loud yelp when he grabbed both of your wrists, pulling you closer to his face—a dangerous close proximity against his fluttering eyelashes and lips that your breath caught up in your throat which causes your cheeks to heated up in embarrassment of what kind of position you two were in right now. "i like you, you would certainly be a perfect fit to be by my side."

"what?!" you exclaimed, jaws dropping and eyes about to pop out at his very words. "i don't want to be by your side—"

"a lady like you, i'm afraid to say, intrigues me very much..." Jungwon shots a kittenish wink right through your heart. "be my wife, milady. i'll show you how good I can be for you."

「 © talesofyuan on tumblr 2023 」 all rights reserved. do not copy or post without permission.

[seokmthw]

in the fire | sung hanbin

⇢ pairing: hanbin x reader

⇢ warnings: dystopia au, zombie apolocalypse au, angst, some fluff, slow burn, major character death, vomiting, blood, gore, violence, explicit language, mentions of/implied assisted suicide (this is the best way to describe it)

⇢ synopsis: a deadly virus has broken out and left the world in shambles as everything you once knew gets flipped upside down and you're fighting for your life alongside your best friends. the three of you decide to follow a pair of strangers to a city that supposedly has an entire community of people, but you didn't realize the amount of horrors you would have to endure along the way.

⇢ word count: 19.08k

⇢ note: i am SO proud of how this turned out, it's one of my favorite fics i have written to date. the plot moves kind of fast but i feel like that happens with most zombie apocalypse media, so i hope you guys don't mind. if you want to listen to the playlist i listened to during the making of this while you read, here it is. i hope you enjoy :]

JOIN MY TAGLIST!

i.

“y/n, wake up!” the deep slumber you were in felt as if it didn’t last very long due to the familiar voice of one of your best friends, taerae, shaking you awake.

you groaned, stirring around beneath your covers, swatting his hands away from you, “what, taerae? i was sleeping so good.”

“that’s not really important right now,” his voice was hushed, a hint of anxiety laced within his words. it was extremely unlike him, and within mere seconds you were opening your eyes and staring at him, sitting up from your cocoon, brows furrowed in concern, “what's wrong?” you asked, observing him as he began rummaging through your bags hanging on the back of your bedroom door.

he tossed your largest backpack at you, “we need to go, within the next few minutes, actually. pack only the essentials.”

“why?” you inquired, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed and touching your feet to the chilly hardwood floors. you were greeted with silence, trying to get your tired brain to catch up with taerae’s actions of grabbing some of your personal hygiene products and tossing them on the bed next to you. 

you become frustrated with the boy, snapping, “taerae, what is going on? you can't just barge in here and tell me to pack some of my shit and then not tell me why.”

he stopped dead in his tracks, shoulders tense and a sigh slipping past his lips. he turned to face you, the fear he was feeling clear on his expression now. you searched his face for anything that might be an indicator of what it was, but the words he uttered were something you never expected, “there was just a nationwide announcement broadcasted on the tv that said the most recent round of flu shots contained a nasty string of some virus in it and it's mutating in people’s genes,” he explained, “the people who got it are going crazy and freaking out on everyone around them. biting them, clawing at their skin, swallowing whatever bits of flesh they can get their hands on. it's complete madness. they want everyone to travel to some hospital a few hours north of here.”

you couldn't help the way your jaw fell slack at his gruesome words. people eating other people? there was no way this was happening. you were surely dreaming, or taerae was pulling your leg and taking it a little too far; it wouldn't be the first time he's done something like this during your time being friends with him. you shook your head, balling up one of your shirts and chucking it at him, “stop fucking with me, dude. i can't believe you woke me up for this.”

“i’m being dead serious, y/n,” the bewilderment in his eyes and the nervous bobbing of his adam’s apple was hard to miss, “ask hanbin if you're really that skeptical. you know he would never seriously joke about something like this.” he took your backpack from your hand and began shoving things inside of it, motioning for you to seek out hanbin and find out for yourself. 

you pushed past him and out into the hallway, feet padding gently against the floor into the living room where the television was quietly humming in the background. you focused your attention on that, snagging the remote from the coffee table and turning the volume up. on the screen was your local news channel, an anchor braving what seemed to be utter chaos behind them. 

/reporting to you live from the streets of atlanta. since the news of the virus outbreak, madness has struck the city. people are in a frenzy, desperate to get out and find some sort of safety. it is highly advised you form a group with whoever you are near now and leave as soon as you can. i will provide you with more updates as they com-/

before the reporter could finish her sentence, someone came barreling up behind them, snapping their neck cleanly. you watched in horror as the reporter’s body crumpled to the ground and the culprit followed suit, crawling on his hands and knees to get to the exposed flesh of their neck. the culprit sniffed deeply before he began ripping their throat out, blood pooling near their head and their face quickly becoming unrecognizable. the look in the culprit’s eyes was nothing short of evil and you felt as if you were going to vomit just watching. 

“y/n, there you are!” the sound of hanbin's panicked voice caused a wave of fear to course through your veins. you yelped in surprise, quickly whipping around to face him, taking in his expression, a backpack of his own secured on his back not going unnoticed by you. 

this was real. and it was serious.

you felt tears well up in your eyes at the sight of him, still digesting what you had just witnessed on the television. he glanced over at the screen, catching a look for himself, and was quick to shut it off so you didn't have to see anymore. he approached you gently, but you were quick to cling to him, desperate to be grounded, to have a sense of security after being woken up to such intense news. you felt his arms envelope you in an embrace, his hands cupping the back of your head as you whispered, “i’m terrified, hanbin.”

“i know,” he consoled, trying his best to keep his voice steady, “i am too, but we can't let that control us right now. we have to be logical and level headed. let’s go find taerae and get out of here.”

you nodded, pulling away from him, feeling your heartbeat speed up in your chest at the way he wiped your tears away, the softest of smiles on his face. he tilted his head in the direction of your bedroom, and you followed behind him, shaking your head at yourself. now was /not/ the time for you to be dwelling on the crush you developed on him. at this point, you weren't sure if there would ever be a time, but you were hardly worried about it. 

you entered back into your bedroom, having seen taerae was almost finished with packing your backpack full of things. you thanked him quietly and apologized for freaking out on him a few minutes prior, earning a small smile from him in return, “i understand why you didn't believe me at first, so it's really okay.”

“so what’s the plan?” you asked, now taking the bag from taerae’s grasp and slinging it over your shoulders. 

“i suppose we attempt to get wherever they're saying to go,” hanbin answered. you looked outside of your window, catching a glimpse of the chaos a few streets over, a cynical laugh erupting from your lungs, “looks like that’ll be easier said than done.”

the three of you made a collective decision to at least try, because maybe you'd be guaranteed safety that way. you stayed clustered together tightly upon exiting the house through the front door, every sense on high alert as you kept your eyes peeled out for anyone you suspected might be infected by the virus. you felt as if your heart was in your throat, adrenaline coursing through your veins in a way it never had before. 

you slunk to taerae's suv, opening the doors to get in as quietly as you could muster, though you knew it would be harder to keep its old doors from squeaking too loudly. you hopped in quickly, desperate to get out of there and to a place where you wouldn't have to fear so much, and hopefully live in peace until this entire thing blew over. 

out of habit, taerae shut the door loudly, and the panic that sank to the pits of your stomachs was enough for taerae to kick it into high gear and speed out of your neighborhood as fast as he could. loud, gutteral shrieks from infected chasing after the car could be heard – the sound was unmistakable. you tried your hardest to keep your head down, to not look, because you genuinely felt like you'd throw up at any given moment.

but your efforts were cut short from the sounds of the tires screeching and taerae yelling, your gaze flicking up to see a body toppling over the hood of the car, blood splattering on the windshield and oozing from their mouth from where they'd likely just gotten done devouring someone. silence hung thickly in the air, the three of you processing everything that just happened.

“i just ki-”

taerae’s words were drowned out by the sound of you wretching in the back seat.

ii.

you never made it to the hospital. there was far too much chaos, and by the time you’d made it to a gas station, everyone had used up every last drop trying to top off before they drove up there. the three of you ended up having to completely abandon taerae’s suv, and despite the sheer amount of infected surrounding you, somehow, you survived. 

your new routine had been set in place for quite some time now. find a shelter, scavenge for supplies, and repeat for a couple weeks. then afterward, you would relocate. it was really the most you could do, considering every place you deemed worthy to make a hideout ended up being overtaken by more infected than you could usually handle. you were getting pretty sick of constantly having to move around, having no stability.

you missed life before the outbreak.

it took weeks for you to adjust to seeing so much blood, or having to kill infected who hadn't completely rotted away, some eerily intact despite the virus taking hold. it took an even longer time to adjust to /killing/. it was never something you imagined you would ever have to do in your life, but by now, about a year and a half later since the outbreak, you were immune to it and it didn't bother you anymore. regardless, you still longed for the days where all you did was complain about work and bills. 

having taerae and hanbin around made things a lot easier; especially hanbin. he naturally assumed the role of leader within your small group, and even more so if you had others tagging along with you. but just barely a week ago the last person of a group of about 5 you came across got bit and succumbed to the infection, leading to a huge scare of taerae potentially getting infected himself. thankfully, he wasn't, but the prospect of losing either of them to the virus made you feel nauseous. 

your tasks for each day were split up so none of you experienced extreme amounts of burnout. some days were dedicated solely to rest, though all three of you felt incredibly guilty when you did that. at any given moment, you could be attacked. or not have enough to eat. or even die. one thing you all had learned the hard way was that you were never guaranteed to live through an entire day. 

which led you to your current situation of trying to sneak around a nearby general store in hopes of finding some sort of supplies with taerae while hanbin protected the house you were currently inhabiting. since losing the last of your new group, you often found yourself wishing you could have at least a few more people so nobody was left alone. knowing that hanbin was currently by himself made you uneasy, especially since he couldn’t defend himself against more than two or three infected, or even other people, at once. you shook the thoughts plaguing your mind away; there was no time to think about things like that.

besides, you knew hanbin would be fine. he always was.

you gripped your knife tightly in your hand, allowing your eyes to constantly scan the aisles while you were searching through boxes in hopes of finding anything you could use. you had come to this place a couple of times since settling down a couple weeks ago, but it was nearly empty now. your food supply was running out at an alarming rate and there was only so much you could ration between the three of you before you would inevitably starve. 

the moment you came across anything that was edible, you could have cried. it was the millionth can of beans you had come across since you’d been traveling and you were tired of them being the main component of your diet. it was no wonder it was some of the only food left no matter where you went. people still hated beans, even in the midst of an apocalypse.

you carefully stepped over large chunks of broken glass to avoid making too much noise so you could stand next to taerae, who was dejectedly kicking around some garbage that was of no use to any of you. smiling sadly, you asked, “have you found anything?”

“not really, no,” he answered, “i think another group of people came through here and took a bunch of supplies we had seen when we were fighting that mob last week. bastards.”

you knew how frustrated taerae was getting with unsuccessful supply runs. admittedly, you were feeling the same way. it was hard not to have a temper. but, you were actively trying to make sure you didn’t let it crush your spirits too much. if you did, you knew that it would not only bring your motivation to keep searching down, but it would take a toll on everyone else around you as well. that was the last thing you needed, especially since things were looking more and more grim each day.

“have you found anything?” he asked.

you sighed, “other than a couple cans of beans and a box of cold medicine, i haven’t come across anything worthwhile.”

taerae softly whined, and for a minute, you thought he might throw a tantrum, “why does everyone leave only beans? that’s been our diet for what feels like an eternity.”

“i know, but be glad we find anything at all. it’s better than nothing,” taerae huffed in annoyance, but ultimately agreed with your sentiment.

you followed taerae out of the store, careful not to let the door slam shut behind you. making one loud, uneccessary noise would more than likely lead to your deaths, and that wasn’t particularly something you were looking for by any means. you both refused to leave hanbin on his own. you were doubtful he could survive alone, especially if he were to encounter a lot of infected at one time.

there was nobody who was capable of that.

you set off down the road toward your current hideout. night time was creeping up on the two of you, and while you were sure the you could take on a small group of infected together, you knew you couldn’t handle any more than that. you peered over to your partner, taking note of the sour expression adorning his features, and nudged him playfully, “a little success is better than nothing at all, you know.”

“i do,” he attempted to fight the smile creeping at the corners of his mouth, “maybe you’re just bad luck. every time i go on a run with hanbin, we always find so much.”

“hey!” you exclaimed with a light laugh.

taerae shrugged, a small chuckle emitting from his lungs, “you didn’t deny it.”

you fell into a comfortable silence, the only audible sound being your boots thudding against the pavement. you felt a shiver course down your spine; this would be your second time going through this apocalypse in the winter months. it was hard to ignore the fact that it was starting to get icy out and the wind was cutting right through your thin jacket and down to your bones. you leaned a little closer into taerae, who was practically grinning from ear to ear as you did so.

“i take it you’re cold?” though he was teasing you, his arm instinctively wrapped around your shoulders. you nuzzled closer into the boy’s side, soaking up any bit of warmth he radiated from underneath his hoodie.

“no, i’m sweating buckets,” you sarcastically remarked, completely unable to mask your playful smile, “i’m actually freezing. and i think it’s starting to rain.”

taerae tilted his head up toward the sky, his dark eyes scanning the darkening gray clouds overhead. he audibly sighed, and you took note of the cold droplets of water starting to fall on top of your head and seep into your clothes. he turned to you, “we’re only a couple blocks away from the house, let’s just pick up the pace. we don’t want our asses to get mauled by infected when we’re almost back.”

you nearly stopped dead in your tracks at the sound. it was almost as if taerae was psychic sometimes, and you were hoping like hell you were just hearing things. a deep, throaty growl sounded off behind you once more, and when you turned your head to look, your eyes widened at the sight of a mob forming behind you. you supposed that this was to be expected, especially considering it had grown darker a lot sooner than it normally did, but it still put fear in your heart. 

taerae gently urged you forward, “we need to go, now!”

even if the size of the mob was manageable, it certainly did not mean the two of you should take it on. the moment you were to do that, more were likely to start showing up and you would be doomed. taerae grabbed your hand as the two of you began to sprint, his grip on you preventing you from falling any further behind from your slight lack of speed. the rain had become heavier the closer you got to your hideout, skewing any good amount of vision you were hoping to have between your hair plastering to your skin and the weather limiting how far ahead you could see in front of you.

you cursed the month of december; it had always been one of your least favorite months, even before the outbreak, but now it was definitely taking the top spot for your most hated. ice had already begun to form on the road and sidewalks of the neighborhood and your boots were no longer gripping to anything. an intense jolt of pain shot through your knee the moment you lost your balance and smashed it into the pavement. you inhaled a sharp breath, struggling to regain your footing as taerae stopped to help pull you up. 

“they’re getting closer! come on, y/n, we’re only a few houses away!” 

you pushed your legs to keep going, no matter how much your knee was throbbing or your muscles felt like they were on fire. you desperately searched your surroundings in hopes of finding some sort of familiarity, and the moment you saw hanbin standing in the living room window of your hideout, you felt a wave relief wash over you. 

taerae pulled you up the front steps of the porch, making sure you got inside before he did, and kicking an infected back into the crowd and following you so it couldn’t force its way inside. hanbin slammed the door and locked the deadbolt the moment he was able to. your legs felt like jello and there was no mistaking the heavy breathing of taerae as he was hunched over, tossing his bag onto the ground. 

“did it get you?” hanbin sounded frantic as he shoved taerae’s right pant leg up, eyes scanning every inch of his skin for a mark of any kind left by the infected he had kicked back.

taerae scowled, shoving the older boy away from him with a smirk, “of course not. i would have felt it,” his gaze softened at hanbin’s solemn gaze, “i’m okay, don’t worry.”

hanbin nodded, his eyes flickering over to your hobbling frame as you attempted to make your way to the old couch you had been sleeping on since being in the house. you winced the moment you put any pressure on that knee, though, and within mere seconds hanbin had his arm snaked around your waist to help you get to your destination easier. 

you sat down, exhaling a shaky breath as you rolled up your own pant leg. your entire knee was already beginning to form a deep purple bruise and blood seeped from the small scrape that you figured you would have. you gingerly poked around the wound, mentally cursing yourself for losing your footing in the first place. 

“y/n took a pretty hard fall out there, i’m surprised they didn’t shatter their kneecap,” taerae spoke up.

a look of concern contorted hanbin’s face, “are you going to be able to function okay?” 

“i don’t know,” you truthfully replied, “i think i can as long as i nurse it or have some sort of support. i also think it would be best if we leave and try to find another shelter somewhere, we’ve definitely overstayed our welcome here.”

taerae scoffed, “are you out of your mind? there’s absolutely no way you can travel with your knee like that, let alone fight off any infected.”

“as much as i hate to admit it, i think y/n is right,” hanbin said, “besides, we’ve wiped out everything nearby that could possibly have usable supplies. there’s no way we can survive on what little we have until y/n is fully healed up.”

“not to mention, it seems like more and more infected are showing up around you here,” you added.

your gaze locked with taerae, who looked as if he could explode at any given moment. you knew he had the best of intentions, but it was crucial you left at dawn. sighing, you reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing it in reassurance and muttering, “i’ll be okay, i promise. i can hold my own and as long as we wrap my knee up well, i’ll be able to walk normally. you know i wouldn’t say any of this if i didn’t think i could do it.”

taerae finally nodded in agreement, though his expression remained menacing as his eyes flickered between both you and hanbin.

“we better get some rest, we leave the moment the sun rises.”

iii.

it had been a couple of days since the three of you had set out from your hideout. to say you were exhausted was an understatement; you hadn’t found a shelter worthwhile to stay in, so you had to make camp in the most closed off spaces you could, usually in the woods. you hardly slept; it was far too cold to stay asleep for very long at all and if you did manage to get a couple hours in, you felt worse when you woke up.

you had to eat your supply of beans straight from the can because you had no way to cook them. scarfing them down wasn’t exactly ideal, and you dealt with taerae whining about it the most out of all of you. but, food was food, and you were lucky enough to have what you did. 

“if this map is correct,” hanbin interrupted the silence as the three of you continued walking down the same road you had set foot on, “this road should take us to the next town a couple miles out from where we are now.”

you felt a pang of excitement hit you, “maybe we’ll find better food there.”

“and somewhere a little more warm to sleep,” taerae added, the eagerness in his voice hard to ignore.

hanbin nodded, “we could probably make it there today if we keep up the pace we are,” he turned to look at you, “can you do that with your knee?”

truthfully, your knee felt like it was going to give out on you at any given moment. hanbin did the best he could with the little supplies you had to stabilize it enough so it didn’t hurt when you walked. it worked for the first day and half, but ever since your last stop to try and sleep, it’s been in an excruciating amount of pain. 

you still assured the two with a smile anyway, “i’ll be fine, i promise.”

as the three of you continued your journey, you couldn’t help but feel like every inch of your body was going numb. being out in the cold for the amount of time you had been was definitely not good for any of you, especially since the jackets you had were suitable only for autumn-like weather. snow had begun piling up on the first day of traveling, making things even more slick beneath your boots and the chill in the air to cut through every measly layer of clothing you adorned. 

you just hoped that hanbin was right about the town. for everyone’s sake.

— — —

“there’s a stream not too far from here, i’ll go and get some water while you change y/n’s bandages.”

hanbin was currently kneeling on the ground in front of you, teeth gritted together as he tried to keep from shivering too much while he focused on the task at hand, “just hurry back.”

with that, taerae set off into the woods where the stream could be seen from where your spot on a tree stump, his boots crunching the snow beneath them. one of the only perks about winter was being able to see through the usually dense areas a lot easier. 

you sighed, frustrated with yourself, “i’m sorry for setting us back.”

hanbin shook his head, “you don’t have to apologize, i know you wouldn’t ask to stop for the day if you were feeling okay.”

“maybe you should just leave me for the infected, i’m more of a burden right now than anything,” you half-joked, one corner of your mouth raising in a smile.

however, the boy in front of you didn’t find it to be very funny. his frown deepened and he locked his dark eyes with yours and grabbed your hand, his fingers chilled to the bone, and a seriousness radiating from his body, “i will never, ever leave you behind, even if it costs me my life. okay?” 

“the same will always go for you,” you squeezed his hand reassuringly. you would be an idiot if you didn’t admit the small smile he gave in return made your belly do backflips or the feeling of his hand in yours made you warm up just a little bit.

hanbin taped the remaining bandage together the best he could before rolling your pant leg down, careful not to roll his hard work down with the fabric of your jeans. you mumbled a thank you, standing up to make sure it was still secure and once you gave him a thumbs up, hanbin rose to his feet as well. 

by now, taerae made his way back to the two of you, extending the canteen of cool water out to you. taking it graciously, you took a few good sips before passing the object to hanbin. 

“what’s the plan now?” taerae inquired, scanning the brush around you in an attempt to find somewhere to set up camp for the night. 

hanbin shrugged, “maybe we should wait until morning to finish the hike to the convenience store. it’s almost dark now and i would hate to travel and have that be what kills us,” both you and taerae nodded in agreement. 

you parted your lips to speak, “let’s find somewhere to rest then, we have a long night ahead of us.”

— — — 

you desperately clung to hanbin and taerae, craving warmth more than ever. you were to the point now that moving hurt from how cold your entire body was. the small fire you had going earlier in the evening had to be put out before you slept so it didn't attract more infected that you wanted, so it was exponentially more difficult than any of your previous nights on the road or inside an abandoned home. 

morning began to break through the clouds in the sky, your surroundings illuminated by the dim light it provided to you. the snow glimmered all around you, and bad you not been freezing your ass off, you would have found it beautiful.  hanbin began to stir next to you, uttering a quiet, “did you get any sleep?”

“barely,” you mumbled back, taking note of the way taerae was snoring on your other side, sleeping soundly as if he wasn't on the frigid, hard ground in the middle of winter. you envied him, because no matter where you were, he was somehow able to sleep at least a few hours. 

hanbin lowly chuckled, “me either, but i’m glad to see it's going well for him.”

you peered up at hanbin through your lashes, taking in the gash just to the side of his right eye that was still healing from an encounter with a hostile group of survivors a few weeks ago. you reached up to touch it, gently tilting his head sideways to get a better look at it. you informed him, “it’s healing really well, i don't think the scar will be all that noticeable.”

“good, i’m glad,” he replied, and you missed the way his eyes followed you as you flipped around on your other side to begin rustling taerae awake. truthfully, you turned away because you were scared hanbin would catch on to the feelings you still somehow possessed for him, but waking taerae was also just as important. 

taerae grunted as he woke up, surprise evident in his face; almost as if he were worried something bad was happening, but when he realized it was just you, he relaxed almost immediately. “what time is it?” he asked, and you glanced down at the watch you adorned on your wrist, replying, “just barely after six.”

your morning was pretty relaxed after that. you took your time waking up and even managed to get another fire going so you could defrost yourselves before trekking back out into the snow toward your destination. your knee was feeling a lot better since taking a break and you were able to comfortably walk on it without needing some kind of support from either hanbin or taerae. 

your relaxation and bliss of the fire were quickly replaced with dread and hatred toward the cold as you trudged toward the town you were looking for. you still felt better, and your knee was much easier to walk on than previously, so you knew you'd at least be able to make it there while there was still daylight.

a soft gasp erupted from the boy on your right “what’s that up there?” the glee laced in taerae’s voice was hard to ignore upon him catching sight of gas pumps and the building next to them. 

you squinted to catch a better glimpse and couldn’t help the grin tugging at either corner of your mouth, “i think we’re here!”

hanbin chuckled, “you two sound like you’re arriving somewhere for a field trip.”

you nudged him slightly, the three of you unknowingly picking up your paces in pure excitement. you pulled out your weapons upon getting closer to the gas station, eyes and ears fully alert for any potential threats surrounding the area – infected or not. 

taerae extended his arm, quietly pulling the door open and holding his gun up in front of him as he walked inside. you were the next one inside with hanbin following up the rear, and once you were able to see that there was no imminent danger inside any of the rooms, you put your weapons away.

the sight you were greeted with was enough to almost bring the three of you to tears. there was at least four shelves of food and supplies that hadn’t been touched yet, which was extremely rare to come by at the point you were in with the apocalypse. 

“this has been well worth the wait,” taerae piped up, tossing a box of crackers, a package of hot dogs, and a few bottles of water into his backpack, “we finally don’t have to eat stupid fucking beans anymore.” 

“and we don’t have to hear you complain about it,” the eldest boy teased, mimicking the younger’s actions as he got a feel for everything there was to offer. 

you headed toward the back room, flicking the light on only to be greeted with a few makeshift mattresses the people here previously had left. you searched the drawers of the desk off to your right, greeted with a pad of paper and a pen as well as a few other items you found to be useful to the group. 

you tossed everything into your backpack and put it to the side, opting to tidy up the beds so everything was neatly arranged and each of the three of you had a spot to sleep. The padding on the floor was much softer than you expected it to be and you almost screeched in excitement when you stumbled upon a closet filled with thick coats. 

as you finished pulling them out of the closet, the other two were entering the room with grins adorning their faces. taerae saw you struggling to hold all the coats at once and came forward to help you, laughing at your misfortune when you dropped pretty much all of them on the floor. 

without a word, you began going through them and found ones in your sizes or at least close to them, sighing in content at the feeling of warmth they gave you once you slipped them on. you closed the door to the office, settling down onto the mattresses with the other two.

“do we want to stay here for a little bit before we head out again? or do we want to try and find a house?” hanbin asked, finally breaking the silence between the three of you and the analytical part of his brain speaking for him. 

you leaned back against the wall, your eyes trained on the ceiling, “i would be okay with either one. right now we’re at least guaranteed shelter, even if it’s only for a couple of days.”

“maybe we can stay for three or four days and see if we can find a house nearby,” taerae suggested. you all nodded, deciding that was the best plan you could come up with. 

you were just glad to have something go your way for once.

iv.

you stirred around on your spot on the floor, groggily coming out of one of the best sleeps you’ve had in months. you felt deliciously warm, sandwiched in between both taerae and hanbin, who were also just beginning to wake up. 

you smiled to yourself, propping your body up onto your elbow as your eyes scanned the area around you. it almost felt too good to be true, striking the jackpot with so much in one day. it was very rare the group of you ever had more than enough food to survive for a week, especially if there was more people with you, and here you were with everything you could have ever hoped for. you felt extremely grateful.

“why the hell are you up so early?” taerae groaned, flipping his arm over to look at the time on his watch before he covered his head with a pillow.

you chuckled at him, voice a hushed whisper so you didn't wake hanbin, who was still sleeping peacefully, “i don't know, i just couldn't sleep anymore.”

taerae huffed loudly before eventually sitting up, his hair tangled and messy and eyes still shut as he gained his bearings back. finally, he looked at you, playfully annoyed, and said, “i suppose you and i can rummage around for some more stuff while hanbin rests for a little longer. he never gets enough and he seems to actually be into a deep sleep.”

you peered over at the boy fondly, taking note of his soft snores and slightly agape mouth. taerae was right, and you did everything you could to be quiet before you left. you wrote a quick note on the pad of paper you found the previous day and left it where you slept so hanbin could easily find it if he woke up and you were still gone. 

you followed taerae out of the office, careful to not close the door too loudly just in case any infected had wandered in overnight. you seemed to be in the clear, and almost welcomed the crisp morning air as it hit your face and filled your lungs. there were a few other buildings nearby, abandoned cars as well, so you decided to scope them out and see what they had to offer. 

as you rummaged through a bag on the ground near one of the vehicles, taerae’s straightforward question caught you off guard, “are you ever going to tell hanbin that you like him?”

you were baffled, to say the least. you glanced up at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, before you finally managed to spit out, “that is not what i was expecting to talk about while we did this.”

“that's not an answer to my question,” taerae teased.

“no shit, sherlock,” you sarcastically remarked, deciding to keep a box of matches you'd found in that bag. you pondered his question before you answered him as you rose to your feet, avoiding eye contact and feeling yourself begin to blush, “i don't know, i mean, we’re in the middle of an apocalypse, i don't think it's the right time.”

“is there ever going to be a right time?”

his question made your mind start reeling. of course you'd /thought/ about telling hanbin, but you didn't want to ruin your friendship and most certainly didn't want to make things awkward considering you had to be around him until you either died and split off in your own ways. you thought he was way out of your league, anyway. there was no way he would ever like you back. you finally looked at taerae, a smug grin plastered on his face, and you stuck your tongue out, “quit being an ass.”

“y/n has a crush~” he sing-songed, skipping in annoying little circles around you and poking your sides annoyingly. you crossed your arms over your chest, giving taerae a blank stare until he stopped in front of you, his smile even wider now “you're blushing.”

you smacked his arm, earning a yelp from him, and hastily said, “no i’m not, it's just freezing out here.”

the two of you kept rummaging around, and after several minutes, taerae had done eerily quiet. you knew he was probably scheming something, because even amidst hell on earth, he always found a way to pull fast ones on you and hanbin. you shook your head, mentally preparing yourself for whatever it was he decided to do. 

but nothing came, and you were beginning to get worried. you had your upper body inside of another car, legs still dangling outside, after seeing one of the windows rolls down, and you were trying your best to grab onto a bottle of rubbing alcohol in the passenger seat. you desperately lunged for it, but to no avail. you decided to see if you could find taerae and make sure he was still alive and breathing. 

you attempted to shimmy your way backward out of the car, and felt panic set deep in your stomach at the feeling of something grabbing at your ankles. you tried like crazy not scream, but frantically began kicking in an attempt to get the infected off of you. a growl was able to be heard as it pulled you the rest of the way out the car, but you were able to get leverage and fully kick it off of you. turning around, you reached for your knife on your holster, fully prepared to kill it, but stopped with your hand gripping the handle upon seeing taerae standing behind you, mocking an infected far too well. 

“damn it, taerae!” you exclaimed, whacking him on the chest with your hand, “i could have killed you!”

he pointed menacingly, “but you didn't.”

“having fun out there?” the sound of hanbin’s voice broke the two of you out of your bickering, heads turning to see him leaning against the door frame of the gas station convenience store, a small smile curling up the corners of his lips, “looks like he got you good, y/n.”

you groaned in annoyance, “i can't believe you saw that,” you pushed taerae for good measure, “and you thought it was funny.”

hanbin shrugged, laughing along with you, “what can i say, i love a good prank when i see it.”

v.

you continued this little escapade at the gas station for a few days, more because the office was much warmer than outside and less because there was a plethora of supplies. all of the surrounding buildings ended up being a bust, completely ransacked before you even got there. thankfully you had the gas station, but it was only a matter of time before you would have to relocate. again. 

the three of you were sat in the office on the foam pieces you'd been using to sleep on, looking at the map smoothed out in front of you to determine your next route. you pointed to a small town north of where you were, but before you could say anything about it, you were pulled from your thoughts at the sound of voices and rummaging out in the main area of the building. you turned to the other two, eyes wide in panic, “do you hear that?” 

“yeah,” taerae was already moving to get up, his hand reaching for his gun placed on the desk beside him, “it sounds like people are trying to take our shit.”

“taerae, don’t” hanbin attempted to stop the younger boy from leaving the room, but his words went through one ear and out the other. his impulsivity never failed to amaze you. 

you sighed, shaking your head as he opened up the door, completely giving away your location to whatever was out in the main lobby. you rose to your feet as well, quick to follow him out and grab his hand in a futile attempt to pull him back and keep him from going on an unintentional murder spree. 

you were greeted by the bewildered gazes of a couple of boys, both very obviously malnourished and freezing, hands up in the air upon seeing taerae’s gun pointed at them. the boy in front of you two spoke up, subconsciously moving in front of the other one in a means to protect him from any harm.

“we aren't infected, i swear, we’re no threat to you,” his voice held both confidence and fear at the same time. you felt your gaze soften at their petrified expressions. 

you heard a harsh slap. “ow!” taerae exclaimed, turning around to face the eldest in your group, who had a grin on his face. taerae's hand gingerly rubbing the back of his head. 

he looked at the others, “you’ll have to excuse him, he can be a bit of a dickhead at times.”

you shoved taerae’s arm down, preventing him from holding the two at gunpoint any longer. he defeatedly sighed, tucking the weapon away into his pocket. he gave hanbin a scowl before muttering, “sorry.”

“that’s okay,” the taller boy spoke up, “we apologize for intruding, but we haven’t been able to eat for three days now and we were just happy to find supplies.”

“take whatever you want,” hanbin motioned to the shelves in front of them, a kind, gentle smile causing his eyes to take the shape of tiny crescents.

“thank you,” the boy opened up his bag, “i’m gunwook, by the way,” he motioned to the boy standing next to him, ”and this my brother, gyuvin.”

he smiled, giving a small wave, “nice to meet you.”

“nice to meet you too. i’m hanbin, and these are my friends taerae and y/n,” hanbin replied. he seemed almost giddy that you’d come across more people to speak and potentially form a group with. 

you cleared your throat, pointing your thumb at the office, “you guys look like you’re freezing, we found some coats if you want some.”

a wave of relief washed over gyuvin, “yes please, this is all we’ve had since winter started creeping up. i’m surprised we haven’t gotten frostbite yet.”

you led him back into the room you slept in, opening up the closet door to reveal the remaining coats. you helped him find his size, and when he couldn't zip it up from how stiff his fingers were, you did it for him, smiling at him afterward. gyuvin smiled back, but it held a hint of sadness. you didn't want to inquire why, especially since you’d just met them. 

he sifted through them and picked out one for gunwook. “thank you so much, really,” he sounded more grateful than you had felt when you first found them, “i’ve been really worried about what would happen the deeper we get into winter.”

“it’s not a problem. we weren’t going to use them anyway,” you looked at him as you began walking back to the rest of the group, “are you just passing through or finding somewhere to stay?” 

gyuvin made eye contact with his brother, as if he were scared to say anything, but gunwook gave him a nod of approval. he parted his lips to speak, facing the entire group, “we’re actually headed to seattle.”

“for what?” taerae inquired, brows furrowed in thought, “from what i’ve heard, it’s a dead city.”

gunwook chimed in, “a few people we met not too long ago told us they were going out to try and find others to bring back to this community they’ve built and sent us on our way. apparently they have a farm, horses, and a lot more supplies than people like us could ever hope to have,” he seemed so hopeful at the prospect of so many resources. 

“if you want, you guys can come with us. it would probably be a lot more beneficial to travel in a larger group anyway,” gyuvin offered, mainly making eye contact with hanbin since he was the one who appeared to have the most authority in your group.

he looked a bit hesitant, scanning the faces of both you and taerae, “do you guys want to talk about it?”

“yeah,” taerae was quick to answer, pointedly looking at the other two, feigning a fake smile, “we’ll be right back.”

the three of you locked yourselves away into the other room. taerae turned around, the expression on his face unreadable, but his words shocking both you and hanbin, “i think it’s a horrible fucking idea.”

hanbin scoffed, “and why is that?”

“these people literally just showed up not even ten minutes ago and you’re giving up our supplies and considering going with them to some community that we aren’t even sure exists,” taerae exclaimed, “plus, we /just/ lost the last of the other survivors we picked up. i’m sick of losing the people we grow close to.”

“i don’t know, taerae, i think we can trust them,” you told him, “besides, it’s better to have a larger group. you have to admit, traveling and finding supplies has been a lot harder with only three of us,” his shocked gaze met with yours and you did your best to reason with him, “they are extremely malnourished and only came to try and find food and you’re mad about that. what if it was us instead of them?”

he opened his mouth to retort something, but quickly closed it and shook his head, staring down at the floor. you gave hanbin a knowing look, a small smile on your face. 

he nodded, “it’s settled then. we’re going to seattle.”

vi.

as you walked with your newly formed group, you couldn’t help but feel a little giddy. taerae was right; you were still navigating the feelings of your other group mates dying, but you were still less anxious when there was more of you together. you had almost given up hope that there even was anyone else. 

taerae had remained silent almost the entire time you had been traveling. he was still nervous about grouping together with the strangers you had met the previous day, which you understood, but you were confused as to why it was suddenly a problem when you'd done it countless times before. another thing that bothered you was the fact that he was giving both you and hanbin the silent treatment. you scanned the other three in front of you, who were conversing about when they should set up camp for the night, and sighed, grabbing taerae's arm and making him wait until you were a few paces behind. hesitantly, you met your gaze with his, your voice as stern as you could make it when you spoke. 

“what’s your problem?”

taerae looked taken aback by how blunt and straightforward you were with your question. his bewildered gaze almost immediately went back to the scowl he had previously been adorning. he shook his head, his response short as he said, “it’s nothing, y/n.”

“well, you sure aren’t acting like it’s nothing,” you retorted, rolling your eyes at how stubborn the boy was being. however, your gaze softened upon seeing his frown deepen, “talk to me. this isn’t like you.”

taerae pondered your words for a moment before finally admitting his worries to you, “i guess i’m just scared.” “scared about what?”

“getting close to them and losing them like we did the others. they could be selfish, too. we don’t know a single thing about them and if we get in a situation where someone’s life is on the line, i fear they’re going to leave us without much thought,” his voice grew quiet upon his confession. you swore you could feel your heart break in your chest at his next words, “i can’t lose you and hanbin.”

you reached out and laced your fingers with his, squeezing gently in reassurance and forcing him to look at you, “as long as you, hanbin, and i are loyal to each other, that’s all that matters, right? all we have to do is back each other up if the other two happen flake on us.”

taerae’s eyes were glossed over in clear appreciation for your words, his grip tightening on your hand, “thank you.”

“you don’t have to thank me. it’s what i’m here for,” you teased, nudging the boy playfully with your shoulder. the smile on his face was refreshing to see after having him upset the entire day since leaving the gas station. 

the two of you caught back up with the rest of the group, who had come to a halt to scope out the area surrounding you all. the woods appeared to be significantly thicker, which provided more protection from any of the infected that lurked in the shadows at night. it would also be easier to make a shelter to sleep in overnight. 

gunwook turned, asking the two of you, “what do you think?”

taerae was the first to speak, “i think it’s definitely a decent spot for now. it looks like we might be able to have an area for a fire as well.”

to say you were shocked was an understatement. hanbin shared a look with you, a grin threatening to tug at the corners of his mouth. you knew the eldest was worried that taerae was going to stay in his funk for days on end, but the look of relief was enough to cause you to feel it too. the boy winked at you, asking the group, “should we split into shifts to keep watch over everything?”

“i’m not opposed to the idea,” gyuvin piped up, pulling his coat closer to his body. it was clear he was still freezing despite having a lot more warmth than when you first met him, “i can take the first one if you want.”

it was your turn to pitch in, “i’ll join you, it’s best to work in teams of two.”

he gave you a grateful smile. you honestly thought that he’s someone you could wind up being really good friends with. you just wished it didn’t have to be because the apocalypse brought you together.

— — — 

the evening came quickly once camp was set up for the night. hanbin and gunwook had managed to get a pretty decent fire going considering the fact that most of the wood you all found was damp or frozen from the snow. you all had welcomed the warmth with open arms.

since everyone was able to take most of the supplies from the gas station, the thin foam that you had used for mattresses the night before were now neatly laid out on the ground in a dense thicket of trees that had already formed somewhat of a shelter. It was certainly a lot better than what you, hanbin, or taerae had made in the past. 

one thing taerae was particularly happy about was being able to warm up some of the food you guys had. he even accepted the beans with a smile instead of turning up his nose to them, which caused both you and hanbin to giggle at him. 

the five of you sat around the fire, recounting your stories of what happened when the outbreak was first announced. taerae was laughing his head off, stating, “y/n really thought i was joking when i went into their room and told them what was happening.”

you threw a wadded up wrapper at him, “in my defense, he is constantly messing with me,” you looked at gyuvin and gunwook, who were laughing along with you, and joked, “watch out for him, because soon he'll be pranking you guys too.”

“what were you guys doing?” hanbin asked the two of them, and they sat deep in thought for a moment, gyuvin finally telling them, “i’m pretty sure we were staying the night at our brother’s house. if i’m remembering correctly, it was a friday, and we usually did stuff together after school.”

“yeah, it was, i think we were getting ready to go out to dinner,” gunwook added, “and instead of getting in the car normally, it felt like we were the main characters of an action movie or something. ricky drove like a maniac.”

you laughed at the image you had in your head of not only their experience, yours as well, “taerae ran one of our neighbors over when we were trying to get off of our street.” 

gunwook’s eyes widened, his smile stretched from ear to ear as he said, “becoming a murderer early on, i see.”

your laughter began to die down as the sun started to set, and your playful conversation turned into solemn ones. hanbin stared at the dancing flames, quietly asking, “i hope this isn't prying too much, but how did it end up just being the two of you?”

gyuvin sighed. you could tell this was a touchy subject, but he was willing to answer hanbin's question, “he got turned not too long ago. we got ambushed by the biggest mob of infected we’ve ever encountered since the outbreak,” his voice cracked as he said the next part, “he shielded us the entire time we were fighting them.”

“he ended up getting bit and made us tie him to a tree so we would have time to run,” gunwook’s solemn gaze made your heart twinge in sadness for them. you couldn't imagine losing hanbin or taerae like that, if at all, and wondered how your new friends were even managing to push through. 

taerae gave the pair a close-lipped smile, “it sounds like he was an amazing brother to have.”

“yeah,” gyuvin seemed deep in thought, a stray tear racing down his cheek, “he was.”

— — —

as soon as darkness engulfed the woods, gunwook, hanbin, and taerae settled down and drifted off to sleep, which left you and gyuvin sat by the fire to keep watch over the camp. the boy was sat across from you, his knees drawn up to his chest and his gaze fixed on the flickering flames that illuminated his face. he was practically glued to gunwook’s side. 

softly, he questioned, “hey, can i ask you something?”

you glanced at him, confusion painted across your features, “of course, what’s up?” 

he sighed. it looked like he was contemplating even saying something to begin with, but finally, after you assumed he won his internal battle, he asked, “does taerae hate gunwook and i or something? he seemed angry when we first met and i don’t want us to intrude on whatever the three of you were hoping to do.”

“no, he doesn’t hate you at all,” you reassured, which caused his shoulders to visibly relax. you fell silent for a moment, gazing over at the boy who was curled up as close to hanbin as the eldest would allow. he looked so at peace, which you rarely ever saw from him. you turned back to the boy across from you, “he’s just incredibly protective of the two of us. it’s really been only us together since the start of all of this and he doesn’t want to lose either of us, is all.”

“i completely understand that,” gyuvin replied, shifting to now lean back against the tree stump behind him, “i hope you never have to go through what we did, that's for sure.” 

“could i ask you a question now?”

gyuvin nodded, “sure.”

“i noticed this the other day, but you just seem to get sad whenever i’m around, and i wanted to make sure it was nothing i was doing,” you were hoping that you didn't seem like you were accusing him of anything, and he most definitely didn't take it that way. 

he offered a sad smile with his answer, “you just remind me a lot of ricky, is all. you guys are very similar in terms of personality.”

“well, i know i can't ever fill his spot, but i can still be there to support you throughout this entire journey we’re on.”

a small cry escaped gyuvin’s lips as he angrily wiped his tears away from his cheeks, “thank you, it really means a lot to hear that.”

once he collected himself, the two of you fell into a comfortable conversation, telling stories from your childhood and even some crazy ones of times where you thought you were going to die in the midst of the apocalypse. for the first time in a while, you felt content. at peace, even.

you hoped it would happen more often. 

— — —

the woods were serene at night when you didn't have to fear for your life. the soft chirps of the crickets, the occasional hoot of an owl, and even the crackle of the fire brought you a sense of comfort and security you hadn't felt for a very long time; since the start of the apocalypse, really. but for whatever reason, you just couldn't sleep.

maybe it was because you were thinking back on your conversation with taerae and the concerns he expressed about losing you or hanbin. or maybe it was the added stress of gyuvin and gunwook’s story. it could have been something entirely different, but you just couldn't doze off for the life of you. 

you huffed out a frustrated sigh, eventually sitting up from your cocoon on the ground and scanning the areas surrounding the fire. the only one awake was hanbin, taerae having dozed off again shortly after being woken up for his shift. hanbin insisted he didn't mind, especially since everything seemed to be relaxed, but you still felt bad he had to stay awake entirely on his own. 

he glanced over at you, gentle smile quirking up the corners of his mouth as he whispered, “can’t sleep?”

you shook your head as a response, eventually making your way over to his post and plopping down next to him, the fire emitting a slightly warmer flow of air in your direction. hanbin peered down at you, a fond smile ever so slightly on his lips, and you swore the butterflies in your stomach might give your feelings away. instead, you scooted closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder and fixing your gaze on the fire. 

you could feel the pressure of hanbin’s head resting on top of yours, his voice almost inaudible as he asked, “do you think anything will ever return to normal? like sometime in the future, do you think there's a chance things will go back to the way they used to be?”

a heavy silence hung in the air as you pondered his question, absentmindedly beginning to pick at a string hanging down from inside of hanbin’s coat sleeve. you could feel your eyes begin to gloss over as you thought about the nights you'd spend pestering hanbin while he attempted to do his coursework for college, or how you'd always give taerae advice on songs he'd written on his guitar. everything was so much simpler, so much /better./

“i don't think so,” you gave your honest response to him, “i mean, everything is destroyed and gone. it'll take years and years to even get rid of the infected, let alone rebuild the entire country to what it used to be,” a shaky sigh from you followed suit to your words, leaving hanbin to think on them. 

he clicked his tongue, “then i guess we’ll have to make a new normal, right?”

“i suppose so,” you hummed, “but how would we go about that?”

“i don't know, but hopefully we’ll figure it out.”

conversations with hanbin were always something you treasured. he gave you new perspectives on things that you wouldn't have even considered before and logically thought through everything. you admired him for that, and it was one of the many reasons you developed feelings for him in the first place. but you knew, deep down, that you wouldn't be able to live the life you wanted with him. you doubted he even returned your feelings.

besides, there would always be infected in the way.

vii.

having new friends that you actually got along with made a huge difference in your travels. there was a lot more team work, laughs, and supplies that you were able to get your hands on. it was arguably the most productive you'd ever been and the quickest you had gotten to know strangers. it felt like you were friends for your entire life. 

it didn't take gyuvin very long to catch on to your feelings for hanbin, and soon he was teasing you alongside taerae when you weren't in earshot of him. gyuvin’s antics were far less intense, and he asked you lots of questions about why you'd grown so fond of the eldest boy. he listened with open ears and was able to see the mannerisms that hanbin displayed easily after your conversations with him.

it felt nice to just gush to someone who would listen to you. 

you were currently attempting to break into a shed to see if there was any useful weapons inside considering gyuvin’s was starting to give out on him. you lunged forward, hitting your hip into the rotted out door, and it gave way easier than you thought. you coughed as dust and wood chips rained down toward the dilapidated floors. 

there was a lone infected inside, which was fighting for its life to even hobble over toward you, and you swiftly put it out of its misery, watching in disgust as it crumpled to the floor. you stepped over its now limp body, gyuvin's following closely behind, exploring the shed further than just standing in the doorway. you kept your knife out just in case you were to come across anymore, eyes scanning your surroundings in an attempt to fine something that would hold up. 

“i don't think this is a question i asked you yet,” gyuvin broke the silence, “but have you ever considered telling hanbin how you feel?”

you had to hold back from bursting into a fit of laughter, taking a deep breath, before you chuckled, “you and taerae are so similar it's crazy.”

you ducked under a cobweb in front of you, careful not to disrupt it in fear of a spider crawling on you. gyuvin mimicked your actions, inquiring, “why do you say that?”

“he asked me the same exact thing.”

you were now standing in front of a wall of rusted weapons. gyuvin looked slightly defeated, but instead of dwelling on that, he turned his attention back to you, “well, it's not a horrible question. i mean, it's better late than never, right?”

you just giggled at him, crouching down to open up a door on a workbench, “i guess so. maybe i will someday, when we’re in seattle or something. that way if he rejects me, i’ll have a home to go into and sulk.”

gyuvin’s cackle echoed inside the barn. you flared up at him, pulling the machete you found out from the self, pointing it at him jokingly, before you threatened, “keep it up and i’ll cut your head off with this and feed it to an infected.”

“hey!”

you handed your find to gyuvin, who admired it in awe, mouth slightly agape and a plethora of thank you's slipping past his lips. the two of you made your way back outside, meeting up with the other three who were attempting to get a car started, but to no avail. gunwook was turning the key in the ignition but had no success of getting the engine to turn over. 

“i take it this whole car thing is a lost cause?” you inquired, looking at the three of them inquisitively. taerae and hanbin had their heads underneath the hood of the car, inspecting the engine in order to, what you assumed, find out what was wrong with it. 

gunwook attempted to turn the key again, and while the vehicle made sound, it was more along the lines of grinding than anything else. he finally looked at you and gyuvin, “i think so, we’ve been working on it for an hour now and nothing has worked.”

“i mean, we’ve walked this much already. we really can't miss what we never had, right?” gyuvin reasoned as he attached his new machete to is pants. 

gunwook shrugged, “i suppose so,” he looked almost bummed out, “it just would have been nice to take a break from walking.”

hanbin shut the hood of the car, now gaining your attention. his hands were smeared with grease and a fine layer of sweat had broken out across his forehead. you blinked a few times, finally finding it in you to tear your eyes away from him. 

you parted your lips to speak, motioning to the road ahead, “guess we better get moving while it's still light out.”

— — —

you’d volunteered to take the last shift of watch for the night. you knew you wouldn't really be able to sleep anyway, so you didn't mind, and would rather everyone else get some well deserved rest instead. this was a common thing for you now, not being able to sleep. you just couldn't get your mind to ever shut up. usually, it was creating the most morbid scenarios, which would either cause nightmares or for you to be so paranoid you felt you had to stay awake. 

you supposed that's what came with life during an apocalypse, but it didn't make it any easier. you wished so badly that you could just go back to normal, or that this was just some cruel, twisted dream you could wake up from. but it wasn't, and you were stuck here fantasizing about a life you would never have again. 

the fire crackled softly, illuminating the surrounding area in a peaceful orange glow. you could hear the soft breaths of everyone, a slight snore emitting from taerae, and you smiled to yourself. seeing the people you'd grown to care about so still and calm brought a sense of comfort to you, and almost made it feel like you were at a sleepover of some sort. 

you heaved a sigh, drawing your knees up to your chest and resting your chin on your arms. you sat like that for a while, mind reeling with all the opportunities you were missing out on, and a stray tear raced down your face. there was gentle rustling next to you, and soon after, hanbin rose up from his place on the ground, a sleepy smile stretching across the expanse of his face. 

“i feel bad you're not getting any rest,” his voice was raspy with sleep as he spoke. he shifted his body so he could be sitting up next to you. he extended his legs in front of him, a yawn catching him by surprise, “if you want to try and get some before we leave, i can take over watch.”

you pondered it for a moment, finally nodding in defeat, and began to stretch out on the ground yourself. however, he caught you off guard, putting his lap, and murmuring, “you can use me as a pillow if you want, i know not having one isn't the most ideal.”

you could feel your heartbeat in your throat at his offer, silently nodding as you shifted your weight around, finally settling onto the ground and lowering your head onto his thighs, a content sigh slipping past your lips. you had to admit, he was right, and you didn't think you would be doing this when you first woke up that morning. hanbin pulled the blanket over you, enveloping you in a warmth you hadn't felt in a very long time.

delicately, he threaded his fingers through your hair, and your eyes fluttered shut at the contact. you sighed contentedly, mumbling a soft, “thank you,” to which hanbin chuckled quietly.

the feeling of his hand massaging your scalp caused your body to relax much quicker than you thought it would, and you were soon fighting to stay awake and relish in the feeling of it. before you finally succumbed to sleep, you swore you could could hear him barely whisper, “i’ll be here when you wake up, my love.”

viii.

“y/n, hanbin, wake up!” a voice pulled you from the surprisingly deep slumber you had fallen into despite the frigidly cold temperatures. an extremely panicked voice, though, the person’s hands gripping your shoulder and shaking you lightly in an attempt to get you to hurry. 

you shot up from your nest of blankets and hanbin’s legs, body close to taerae the moment you did so. your gaze locked with his, and instantly, you knew something was horribly wrong. he was quick to answer your suspicions, “infected, there’s a lot and we need to get moving,” hanbin cursed quietly under his breath next to you, angry at himself for even dozing back off in the first place. 

quick to get on your feet, you began shoving the blankets into your bag - rather haphazardly, might you add - your hands shaking from the anxiety you felt from the situation. hanbin remained close to you throughout the process, packing away the food you guys had left sitting out through the night. you glanced around, taking note that the other three were still within your line of vision, and you felt slightly relieved knowing everyone was still in a general vicinity of one another. 

a deep, rumbling growl resonated to the left of you. you turned, being greeted by an infected with outstretched arms haphazardly swinging at you, and his jaw hanging slack as he approached you. his flesh was missing in chunks around his cheekbones and his eyes were beginning to sink in from the disease. his hair was in matted, pale blonde tufts on his head. you’d never gotten the chance to actually see an infected’s features in tact like this before, and to say you were shocked was an understatement. he must have been freshly turned. 

you scrambled backwards the closer he approached, pulling your knife out from its holster on your pant leg. however, the pained cry of gyuvin stopped you from killing it right then and there.

“ricky?” 

the walker turned his head quickly at the sound of his name and you felt your heart lurch in your chest. the boy was attempting to run forward, but gunwook was able to wrap his arms around him before he could make it any further, “gyu, you can’t, there’s no saving him. you know that.”

you made eye contact with his brother, desperately searching for what to do, but his solemn and knowing expression told you everything. he turned gyuvin around, pulling him close to his chest, one of his hands holding the back of his head as he sobbed, “don’t look, okay?”

to ensure you didn’t overthink what you were about to do, you swung your knife forward, sinking it deep into the side of ricky’s neck. he sputtered loudly, dark crimson blood spraying out from the wound and onto your hand and sleeve of your jacket, some of it speckling on your face in the process. you twisted the knife and pressed your boot to his chest to shove him away as he fell, throwing your bag onto your back in a haste. 

“come on, there’s more following in behind him,” hanbin grabbed onto your arm the moment you hesitated, realizing just exactly what you had done. 

it wasn’t supposed to be difficult killing infected, yet here you were.

you followed behind him, meeting up with the rest of the group before everyone began to run on the same road you had been following to seattle. none of you really had time to take in everything that had happened in the past five minutes due to the large mob following hot on your trail, their wicked screams echoing through the empty fields that surrounded you. 

your breathing was erratic, legs and lungs both burning from the amount of energy you were putting into getting away from them. the road was slick with thick ice and it made it difficult to get any sort of traction. over the yelling, you were able to make out taerae’s voice, “keep an eye out for any kind of shelter!”

you squinted, scanning for anything up ahead that could prove useful to the group of you. however, gunwook was the first to notice something, “right over there! it looks like an old farmhouse!”

you took a sharp turn onto the gravel driveway that led up to quite a tucked away house, pushing your legs to go faster. the sooner you got there, the better it was for the group overall. the mob behind you was starting to lessen the more you ran, thankfully, and by time you got to the front door the five of you only had to kill a few before you could stop and catch your breath. 

nobody hesitated to go inside, careful to clear each room and make sure infected hadn’t wandered in. taerae rounded the corner of the kitchen, announcing, “i think we’re safe for now. we should probably rest for a minute before we leave again.”

“would it hurt to explore? see what this place has to offer?” gyuvin asked, the tremble in his voice hard to miss as he spoke. tears stained his face, streaked through the layers of dirt caked on his cheeks and revealing the pale skin beneath it. he was suffering, and rightfully upset, so you knew there was no consoling him until he was able to calm down and have some time to just himself. 

hanbin gauged everyone’s reactions, eyes resting on your blood splattered face, gaze softening. he parted his chapped lips, stating, “honestly, depending on what’s here, we could always stay for a few days and actually think of a better plan instead of just winging it and something like this happening again.”

“i’d have to agree on this one,” gunwook replied, “i don't want something like that to ever happen again, really.”

everyone wordlessly began to rummage around in the house, searching for anything that could be useful. you took note of how clean the place was despite the apocalypse occurring in the outside world. you turned into the bathroom, twisting the knob of the faucet on as a joke, only to be pleasantly surprised at the sound of running water. “guys! the water here works!” you called, dipping your finger under the stream, excitement bubbling into the pit of your belly, “and it’s warm!”

“the pantries and fridge are stocked full of food as well,” hanbin piped up, the excitement evident in his voice, “and there’s power? this place is loaded!”

“the people who were here previously must either be out or newly turned,” taerae remarked. 

it only brought you to the harsh reality of what had just happened. 

your gaze snapped up to your reflection in the mirror. ricky’s blood managed to get smeared across your cheek and mixed into the dirt and grime that had made a home on your skin quite some time ago now. your hand was stained red and your sleeve still heavily damp with blood, which you swore you could smell, and it made you feel sick.

you hurriedly shut the door and fell to your knees in front of the toilet, wretching at the stench and realization that you killed someone’s brother, gyuvin and gunwook’s brother, and you had to live with that for the remainder of time you were with them. a soft cry pushed out of your lungs as you vomited again, completely emptying the contents of your stomach, and you felt you couldn't do it another time. you flushed the toilet and sighed, staring at yourself in the mirror once more.

a quiet knock was able to be heard on the bathroom door and you opened it, greeted by hanbin, who’s eyes were concerned and his lips were contorted into a deep frown. “y/n?” hanbin’s voice was soft, “are you okay?”

and you burst into tears. 

hanbin pulled you close, his embrace strong around your body. you were sure you’d collapse onto the ground if he wasn’t holding onto you at that moment. he rocked your bodies slightly, humming into your ear as a means to calm you down in some sort of way, “you did what you had to do. gunwook wouldn’t have told you to do it if he didn’t think it was necessary.” 

you tried like hell to get the butterflies in your stomach to go away as he pressed a quick, comforting kiss to the crown of your head. not when you had just killed gyuvin’s brother and you were reaping the consequences of that. 

you shook your head, getting ready to respond to him, but were stopped by the sound of gyuvin choking on his sobs as he sat on the couch. gunwook’s voice attempted to comfort him, “i know it hurts, but you and i both know ricky would rather be put out of his misery than stay infected.”

“i could have prevented this all, wook, that’s the problem.”

“don’t do that to yourself. he wouldn’t have let you stay with him no matter the circumstances,” gunwook reassured him, “let’s go see about a bath for you and clean up, yeah? maybe that’ll make you feel better.”

their voices faded away as they headed upstairs. you gripped onto hanbin tighter, fists balled into the fabric of his jacket, letting out your own cry. you wouldn't blame gyuvin if he hated you for the rest of your time together. you would be angry if the roles were reversed, so you couldn't even fault him for that.

“y/n, i think maybe we need to do what gyuvin and gunwook are doing and get you cleaned up,” hanbin was gentle with you, pulling away from the hug slightly to get a better look at your face. his thumb came up to wipe the fresh tears away from your eyes, and you found solace in how nicely he was treating you. 

you sat there for a moment, relishing in the feeling, before you pulled out of the hug to avoid getting overwhelmed with any more emotions, shrugging your jacket off to rid yourself of the reminder of what you’d done not even an hour ago. you sat down on the toilet after putting the lid down and allowed hanbin to get a shower started, your entire body going numb in the process.

at this point, you hoped an infected would take you.

viiii.

you felt unusually warm, though you weren’t complaining in the slightest. sighing softly, you shifted around on the mattress beneath you, tired eyes attempting to open but failing miserably. an arm was slung lazily around you, soft breaths of the sleeping boy in front of you the only thing able to be heard other than the rustling of the blankets.

you finally gained the energy to open your eyes, at least halfway, and you were greeted by the sight of a peaceful looking hanbin, his hair sitting beautifully across his forehead and his lips curled up slightly in the corners. 

your heart felt like it was found to beat out of your chest. You had cuddled with both him and taerae a number of times throughout your attempts to survive, but never like this. you were the only one in the room with the dark haired boy, eyes trained on his serene face and your stomach doing backflips.

hanbin took a deep breath, his eyelids fluttering open, and he gazed at you with a quiet chuckle. he parted his lips to speak, voice deep and raspy from having just awoken from his slumber, “good morning, sleepyhead.”

“i don’t think i’m the sleepyhead here,” you giggled, poking your index finger into his chest, “i was awake way before you were.” you paused before asking, “how did i end up in your bed, anyway?”

though he woke up with a slightly playful demeanor, it quickly faded with a frown that tugged harshly at his lips, his brows creased and his eyes searching yours, “i figured you were too out of it to remember. you had a really rough night trying to grasp the fact that you killed ricky. taerae had fallen asleep relatively early and i just offered for you to sleep in here so you didn’t have to be alone.”

you were so caught up in the bliss of feeling safe and warm you almost forgot about ricky. 

hanbin caught on quickly to your mood change and to the fact that tears instantly glossed your eyes over. he reached his hand out, calloused thumb collecting the liquid as it dropped down onto your cheeks.

“you did what you had to,” he reassured.

all you had to offer him was a sad smile, “it definitely doesn’t feel like it. i wouldn’t be surprised if gyuvin doesn’t talk to me at all, i know if the roles were reversed i wouldn’t say a thing to him.”

he opened up his arms for you, inviting you to snuggle deeper into his chest. you obliged, allowing the boy to hold you while soft sobs erupted from your lips. quietly, he said, “once he realizes you did it out of good intentions he’ll come around. i know he will.”

you nodded, trying your best to convince yourself that what he was telling you had some sort of truth to it. you closed your eyes and relished in the boy's embrace, fearing that he would be able to hear how loud your heart was beating while you laid with him like this. you felt his lips graze your forehead, his warm breath fanning across your skin as he said, “i have something i wanted to tell you.”

you opened your eyes back up at his words, looking at him inquisitively, “what's that?”

“i know now might not be a good time, but i just wanted to tell you that i have a c-”

he was interrupted by the sound of knuckles rapping against the door to your shared room, “hanbin?” taerae’s voice called from the other side. 

the door knob twisted and he swung it open, beginning to step into the room before stopping dead in his tracks at the sight of the two of you cuddled up together. his posture was still and something unreadable flashed in his eyes, his tone monotonous as he spoke, “apparently i’m interrupting something, but i just wanted to let you know that gunwook is almost done cooking breakfast for whenever you decide to join us.”

with that, he shut the door rather harshly in his wake, the sound of his heavy footsteps receding down the stairs the only thing filling the silence he left behind. sighing, hanbin was the first to speak, “i assume he’s in one of his moods.”

“probably so,” you agreed with a nod, “i’m going to head down and attempt some sort of damage control. maybe we can finish this conversation later?”

hanbin nodded, “okay, i’m going to change my clothes and i’ll be down after that,” he replied offering you a soft, reassuring smile as you slipped your boots on and opened the door. 

once you reached the dining room, you took note of taerae’s hostile attitude as he shoved scrambled eggs down his throat, his facial features set in a deep scowl. he looked up when you entered, shoving his chair back, the legs scraping harshly against the floor. the boy rose to his feet and stalked past you, spitting, “i’m going on a walk.”

“you can’t go alone, it’s too dangerous,” gunwook called out in an attempt to get taerae to stay within the confines of the farmhouse. 

taerae scoffed, “i don’t think i fucking asked.”

he stepped out onto the front porch and began walking down the gravel driveway, his hands shoved into his pockets as he did so. you heaved a sigh, “i’ll go with him. i think it’s me he’s upset with anyway.”

“just be safe, we can’t afford to lose anyone,” gyuvin’s voice was quiet, but you still gave him an appreciative smile before following taerae out the door. 

you broke into a jog to catch up with his long stride, finally managing to walk beside him. you grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks. searching his eyes, you asked, “what’s wrong? did i do something?”

a look of annoyance adorned his face as he shook your hand away, “when i said i was going on a walk, i meant /without you/.” he started walking again, this time his pace much quicker than before in an attempt to get you to go back to the house. however, you were just as stubborn as he was. you stood your ground and continued following him.

“i don’t think it’s very fair for you to be in a pissy mood with everyone and not give a reason as to why,” you snapped, now gaining his full attention as he whipped around to face you, anger evident in his eyes. 

“you’re joking, right? /i’m/ the one being unfair?” he scoffed, “that’s rich coming from you, y/n.”

you gave him a dry laugh, rolling your eyes in the process, “i don’t even know what i did.”

“go ask your new boyfriend, i’m sure he could know.”

“so that’s what you’re upset about? we literally just shared a bed,” your futile attempt to reason with him went in one ear and out the other as he turned his back to you again and trudged onto a path in the woods, his fists balled up beside him. 

he suddenly stopped in a clearing, his shoulders tensing and his head bowed as if he were contemplating something. he sucked in a breath, though you didn’t expect him to raise his voice at you, “i don’t think you’re capable of understanding signs that are put directly in front of you and it’s so fucking frustrating!”

“i genuinely don't know what you're talking about taerae, please just tell me so we can fix it,” you shouted back, “it's not okay to just yell at me and not give a reason why.”

taerae closed his eyes and took a deep breath, almost as if to calm himself down, and in a completely different tone he said, “i just feel like you and hanbin are excluding me. it's obvious you two like each other and i just feel like an outcast now.”

“first of all, i doubt hanbin likes me back,” you started, holding your hand up to hush him when he tried to interrupt you, “and second, i’m sorry if we have made you feel that way. i never want you to feel sad because of something i have done, so i will do better and fix it.” 

taerae nodded, “i’m sorry for yelling at you.”

“it's okay, if you have any other issues just come to me like this instead of getting mad and storming out,” you playfully scolded, beginning to walk back toward the house. hanbin was stood in the doorway watching the two of you, a fond smile on his face. 

taerae leaned over, whispering in your ear, “he's crazy about you, trust me.”

you blushed a deep red, smacking him on the arm, “stop it!”

“just speaking the truth,” he shrugged matter-of-factly, unable to suppress the grin on his face as he bounded up the stairs and greeted hanbin, returning to the dining table to finish up his breakfast.

you stopped outside, locking your gaze with hanbin's, trying like crazy not to blush or make it obvious that you were flustered. he was quick to ask, “is everything okay now?”

“yeah, he just needed calmed down,” you told him, laughing as you said, “i’m shocked we didn't get attacked by infected with how loud he was yelling.”

“maybe he scared them away,” hanbin mused. 

hanbin allowed you to enter the house first, muttering something about how you should have grabbed a jacket because it's freezing out, and you playfully bantered as you sat at the table with the rest of the group. you were across from taerae, who gave you a knowing look, and you had to look away from him.

it was comical to watch him try not to yell because you kicked him under the table.

x.

your group had made the decision to stay at the farmhouse until you ran out of resources. its owners never returned, never fended you away from their property or supplies, and you sure as hell didn't want anyone else to take it from you. besides, if you could be stable there for a bit, it would give ample time to rest and complete your journey to seattle when it was warmer outside.

spring came quicker than you'd hoped, but while the weather was still unpredictable, you didn't plan on going anywhere. instead, you build a functioning garden to at least try and sustain yourselves as much as possible, opting to grow some vegetables. you mainly took care of them, which is where you were currently, your hands deep in the potting soil in an attempt to move a few of your crops around to some bigger pots you'd found in the shed a couple days ago. 

your heart jolted in your chest when a figure crouched down next to you, but soon relaxed upon seeing it was hanbin, offering you a helping hand, “i always feel bad you're out here doing this on your own most days.”

“i don't mind it, really,” you shrugged, scooping up some dirt in your hand and patting it around the plant to stabilize it in its new home, “it brings a little bit of comfort, reminds me of the days before the outbreak.”

he nodded in understanding, helping you finish up what you were doing before he quietly asked, “wanna go for a walk?”

you weren't sure why he was suddenly asking this, but you could use a break to stretch out your legs. you you wiped your hands off on your jeans to shake the excess dirt off, and then ran them under the water spigot to clean them as much as you could. hanbin opened up the gate after you signaled you were ready, allowing you to go first and step down onto the path you used to walk down to the creek in the woods.

a comfortable silence fell between the two of you, the quiet chirps of the birds filling your ears and the cool breeze ruffling through your hair. it was peaceful, and you had to admit, it was bringing you a sense of happiness you hadn't felt in such a long time. 

hanbin stopped once he got to a clearing, settling down on a patch of grass by the water and patting the spot next to him for you. plopping down almost instantly, you quirked an eyebrow up at him, questioning, “is there any particular reason we’re here?”

while you expected him to say he just wanted to make sure you were giving yourself a break, he surprised you by answering, “yeah, actually, there is.”

you cocked your head to the side, silently urging him to go on. he nervously swallowed, finally turning to face you, a sudden confidence dancing in his dark irises, “you know that conversation we were having a couple weeks ago before taerae threw his tantrum?”

“yes?” you answered hesitantly, not entirely sure where he was wanting to go with this. you felt the butterflies in your belly begin to dance when you took note of the way his eyes briefly flickered down to your lips, but it was over as soon as it happened. 

“well, um, i just wanted to finish that conversation, because it's been bothering me for a while and i just need to get this out.”

his burning gaze met yours, a fond smile curling up the corners of his mouth. you could feel your heart begin to beat in your chest, praying to god he couldn't tell how visibly flustered you were. he reached his hand up to brush a strand of your hair out of your face, parting his lips to speak, “i have a crush on you, y/n, i have for a while.”

while it was a simple confession, it was something you would treasure for the rest of your life. it was a breath of fresh air amidst chaos and fear, something that made you feel like you were floating for the first time since the outbreak. you felt stupid smiling so big, but to mask your hint of embarrassment, you told him, “i have a crush on you too, bin. i feel like it's been obvious.”

“not really,” he said, “i could kind of pick up little hints, but it was nothing too major. you honestly held it in well, i was worried you wouldn't return the feelings.”

“well, i promise i do.”

hanbin took your relaxed stance as a sign cup your cheek with his hand, inching closer and closer, finally muttering, “can i?”

you timidly smiled, feeling a blush creep onto your cheeks, “of course.”

without any hesitation, he closed the distance between the two of you, melding your lips together perfectly. you weren't sure if it was because he was hanbin, and he was perfect already, or if it was because this moment had been anticipated for so long by the both of you, but it was everything you could have ever asked for. he filled you with warmth and made you melt into his touch. your eyes fluttered shut, relishing in the moment before he broke away, his forehead pressed against yours, “i can't wait to do that more often.”

“me either,” you smiled, leaning forward again to steal another kiss from him, “i think i could get used to it.”

the two of you decided to scrounge around and look for any useful supplies before you went back to the farmhouse. you found a canteen and a gas lantern by the water, assuming someone had left it there - whether it was on purpose or not, you'll never know - and attempted to find anything else before you began your trek back up the trail to the farmhouse. 

you began laughing the moment you caught sight of taerae on the front porch a “thank fucking god” erupting from

his lips the moment he saw your fingers intertwined with one another. he said something along the lines of it being painful to watch the mutual pining and no one making a move. you nudged him playfully, admitting to him that he was right. 

your group would be leaving out within the next few weeks, and you anticipated everything seattle had to offer you, and you could only hope it would be as good as this.

it was close.

xi.

saying goodbye to the farmhouse was a lot harder than you hoped it would be. while you knew it was for the best, it killed you to leave running water, a thriving garden, and cozy bed to sleep in every single night. you knew you would have those things in seattle, but the remainder of the traveling there was going to be difficult, mainly because you'd all gotten spoiled on the luxury of not worrying about where you'll be staying. 

you set out on the rest of your journey early that morning, backpacks filled to the brim with supplies and plenty of food and water to get you through what you hoped would only be a week. you didn't run into many issues along the way, and had made an agreement to meet on the outskirts of the city if everything went wrong; and you hoped it wouldn't. 

the air was thick with humidity, and the feeling of grime caked on your skin wasn't something you missed by any means. you were filled with hope upon seeing a metal sign on the side of the road, and while it was rusting and filled with holes, you saw the words outlines clearly in white, highly contrasting with the green background.

seattle, 1 mile.

you gave hanbin’s hand a firm squeeze, peering up at him

through your lashes, and feeling tears sting at your eyes. you were finally almost to the place you would call home, where you could get as normal of a life as possible, and you'd be able to do it with your friends and boyfriend. maybe, just maybe, it was finally your time to have something really good happen for you. 

“what kind of food do you think they make there?” gyuvin asked, earning laughs from most of the group, and you all began to make small talk of what was to come, unknowingly picking up your pace. 

the sun was beginning to set, casting a beautiful glow across the horizon, and illuminating the sight in front of you. it was breathtaking, and making you all the more excited to finally get inside the safety of the gates that lie ahead.

but the harsh reality was, in this lifetime, nothing good lasted forever. 

something felt off as you approached the edge of the city. there were no signs of life to be found; you were greeted with empty streets and eerie silence. taerae stopped in his tracks, eyes frantically searching the map, a mantra of “no, no, no” falling from his lips at a million miles a minute.

“what's wrong?” gyuvin inquired, peeking over taerae's shoulder to see if he could figure it out himself, but to no avail. taerae folded up the map in frustration, shoving it in his back locked, and turning to the group to say, “there is no settlement.”

gunwook’s voice held a hint of worry, “why do you say that?”

taerae chuckled frustratedly, spinning around with his arms wide open, motioning to the deserted, crumbling city around you, “we went exactly to the place you said those people told you to, and here we are, with no other person in sight,” he quickly met gazes with you and hanbin, “we're completely doomed.”

“maybe we can try going back to the farmhouse, we were doing so well there,” hanbin suggested, attempting to bring some sort of level headedness to your current situation, but taerae was far from receptive to it. 

he began walking around, his behavior growing a little more irrational. he turned around, pointing at gyuvin and gunwook, who both adorned bewildered looks, and stated through gritted teeth, “this is all your fault, i knew we shouldn't have listened to you.”

“kim taerae!” you intervened, catching the attention of the dark haired boy, a glint of anger evident in his expression, “you are being a little ridiculous, we can figure something out.”

“no, we can't,” he scoffed, “we traveled miles and miles and miles to be greeted with nothing, i feel like my frustration is completely justified,” taerae allowed a yell to rip through his lungs, the sole of his boot loudly stomping on a bent “welcome to seattle” sign that had made its home on the crumbling concrete beneath you. 

before anyone could hush him, or ask if he was stupid, the resonating sound of infected filled your ears, but it was unlike anything you'd ever heard before. it sent panic shooting straight to the pit of your stomach, and it wasn't long before the filled your line of vision completely. 

hundreds of them.

the five of you began to run, desperately trying to stick together, but it was proving to be a lot more difficult than you thought. you heard hanbin holler a “split up” before you headed off into different directions, gyuvin and gunwook together one way, and your original trio the other. you clung to hanbin's hand for dear life, keeping careful watch of taerae to make sure he was keeping up. 

you were all too soon met with a fork in your path, and hanbin was quick to think on his feet, letting go of your hand and pushing you toward taerae with an apologetic smile, quickly telling him, “make sure to keep them safe.”

you let out a cry, “hanbin, no!” but it was too late, because he was taking a pipe and banging it on a dumpster nearby, gaining the attention of the infected that had been hot on your trail, and pushing his legs to move him faster down the alley and out of your line of vision. 

you attempted to run after him, but taerae grabbed your arm and pulled you back. you shook yourself from his grasp, screaming through your tears, “we can't leave him, taerae,” a sob raking over your body, “please!”

“hanbin will be fine, y/n, he always is,” taerae reasoned with you, “he'll make it back to us and you know it.”

before you could argue with him anymore, taerae was grabbing your arm again and dragging you along with him, attempting to find the edge of the city again. your legs were burning with each push you made to keep running, and by time you finally made it to a clearing, your lungs felt like they could collapse at any given moment. 

you desperately looked around, trying to find hanbin, or gyuvin and gunwook, and your eyes finally settled on the trembling figures of the two brothers on the ground up ahead, panting hard and trembling from the realization of the events that just occurred. 

you caught up to them, but before you could say anything, you turned around to face taerae, finally allowing the rage you'd managed to keep at bay during that mess to unleash itself on him, “i cannot believe you would put our whole group on jeopardy like that,” you stepped toward him, palms of your hands meeting his chest and shoving him backwards, “you made hanbin feel like he had no choice but to sacrifice himself so we could live, you know that right?” 

taerae’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, not knowing what at all to say to you. scoffing, you said, “you are so fuckinh selfish.”

with that, you stormed off, ignore everyone’s futile attempts of getting you to calm down. the three ended up following behind you, making sure to keep your remaining group together as night approached, and you eventually stopped and set up camp for the night, but refused to utter a single word to taerae. 

you could only hope hanbin would survive the night.

— — —

you and the other three waited on the outskirts of the city like you planned, anxiously awaiting hanbin’s arrival to your small camp, if it ever came. it had been hours now, and you were still not speaking to taerae, now having graduated to refusing to look at him. his attempts at apologizing to you were futile, because he knew sorry would never be enough to heal the ache in your heart and the constant worrying on your mind.

as the morning sun broke through the sky, you sat in front of the smoldering fire, knees drawn up to your chest and eyes stinging with fresh tears. gyuvin was sat down next to you, his hand rubbing your back in a comforting way, his presence greatly appreciated, but you had a hard time croaking anything out.

a flash of brilliant red came into your vision, causing you to finally tear your gaze away from the ashes before you, seeing a rain of fiery glitter shimmering down from the sky in waves. you blinked a few times, wondering if your mind was playing tricks on you, but gyuvin had stopped rubbing your back in return for staring at the sight before you, mouth agape.

it had to be hanbin.

you began silently packing your things into your backpack, gyuvin closely following suit, but you were interrupted by taerae’s voice piercing the silence, “what are you doing?”

“what's it matter to you?” you snapped, managing to look at him, nostrils flaring in annoyance. he held his hands up in defense. muttering, “i’m just trying to watch out for you, y/n.”

you stepped toward him, teeth gritted and your patience with him wearing dangerously thin. you pointed to the color illuminating the sky, your words assertive, “that could be hanbin, and i’ll be damned if you stop me from going to look when you're the reason this happened in the first place. whether you come or not isn't my problem, but if you want to prove you're worthy of forgiveness, you’ll come with.”

you turned on your heels, back now facing him, and met the determined gazes of gyuvin and gunwook, who signaled they were ready to follow you back into the heart of the city.

you trudged onward, careful not to let the thudding of your boots draw attention to you, and glanced behind your back, taking note of taerae following suit. good.

it wasn't long before you made it through the entrance to the forgotten city, and you slunk against walls to keep a low profile in case a hoard of infected were still nearby. you felt your heart beating in your throat, a layer of sweat now coating your forehead in anticipation for what was to come.

another flare was lit, this time much closer to where you previously were. you dashed across the street from one alley to the next, taking note of the same dumpster that hanbin had hit before he ran on his own path. you figured following it wouldn'td hurt, and led your group onward through the maze of rubble, the stench of the flare smoke now filling your nostrils.

before you could take another step forward, gunwook grabbed your hand and pulled you back down into a crouch, his finger pressed over his lips before he pointed ahead, a bus in the distance, but a crowd of about 15 infected surrounding it. they seemed desperate to get something, and as your eyes trailed up, you realized it was someone.

hanbin.

he looked up, a wave of relief washing over his face upon seeing the four of you few yards away from him, and you fought back your tears as you made a cutthroat motion to the other theee, quietly creeping along the edge of the road, planning to sneak attack the infected.

taerae was the first to leap forward, twisting an infected’s neck with a sickening crack. its body crumpled to the ground, falling entirely lifeless within an instant, and it didn't take long for the rest of you to follow in his footsteps. you swung forward, your motions eerily similar to when you killed ricky months back, blood sputtering out from the infected and soaking through your clothes.

but this time, you didn't care. you continued your actions, the putrid smell of iron and rotting flesh violating your nose, but within a few minutes the crowd was gone, and you were surrounded by bodies on the road. you quickly entered the inside of the bus, noticing there was only a few seats left inside, and a previously made shelter from someone else having been made in the back.

taerae pulled the doors shut to prevent any other infected getting inside, visibly relaxing once he realized your group was safe for now. hanbin slipped down from the top of the bus, his hair disheveled, and exhaustion evident in his expression and body language. you moved forward to give him a hug, but he stepped back, shaking his head at you.

you felt your stomach twist in a knot, “hanbin?”

his next words were ones that would have made you fall to your knees if he wasn't standing directly in front of you, “i got bit.”

it felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the small space, the entire group falling into a dreadful silence.

you blinked back tears for millionth time in the last few hours, swallowing harshly as you met your eyes with his, desperately trying to see if he was pulling some cruel joke. you laughed, “no, no that's not possible! you're fine hanbin, you don't have to pull my leg like that.”

his frown only deepened, and he took a step forward, pulling the sleeve of his jacket up to reveal a gnarly wound on the inside of his forearm, the resemblance of teeth marks deeply penetrating his skin. blood oozed from the gashes, and the flesh surrounding it appeared as though had already begun to rot away.

“what are we going to to do?” taerae asked, and you almost turned around to slap him, but somehow managed to contain yourself.

hanbin’s expression said everything you needed to know. his next sentence was quiet, and had the nobody there been completely still, you wouldn't have been able to hear it, “i’m going to have to take care of it myself, i won’t let the virus take over. i don't want to be one of them.”

“hanbin, no,” taerae said, “we can't just let you kill yourself, there has to be another way.”

“but there's not, taerae,” hanbin’s tone was gentle but firm, “there's no cure, and i won't be able to handle being one of those disgusting creatures,” a tear raced down his cheek, “i have no other choice, unless one of you do it for me, and i would never ask that of you.”

you didn't feel like yourself as the gears turned in your head, before you finally asked, “can we at least say goodbye?”

his eyes softened, and he nodded in return. you let the others go before you, gunwook and gyuvin going first, thanking him for allowing them to tag along, and always making sacrifices to make sure everyone else was taken care of.

you didn't miss the sobs shaking taerae’s body when he went, their hug the tightest one you had ever seen. “i’m so sorry” moving past his lips repeatedly, and hanbin kept reassuring him quietly. the two had a quiet conversation, hanbin’s gaze intensely staring into taerae in what you assumed was advice on how to move forward.

and then it was your turn.

your legs felt like jelly as you collapsed into his embrace, his arms sturdy and the scent of his cologne having barely lingered on his clothes as you burning your face into his chest. you could feel him breaking down, and the two of you cried more than you ever have before. he pulled back a little bit, pressing a deep, loving kiss onto your lips, and you could taste the salt of your tears mixing in between.

he looked at you, adoration in his eyes, as he whispered, “i love you, y/n.”

your bottom lip quivered, and you were barely able to get out an “i love you” in return, relishing in your final moment with him. you shifted a bit, slipping your dagger out from the inside of your sleeve. you pushed it between his ribs, hearing him softly grunt in pain, and a quiet “thank you” coming from him.

he grew weaker by the minute, and you helped him lower to the ground. laying him down on his back and settling down next to him, your hand coated with the warm bloom spilling from his body. your free hand reached up and pushed his hair out of his eyes. thumb moving down to collect his tears as his eyes fluttered shut and the breath left his body.

your pained weeping echoed throughout the barren wasteland around you, and you wanted so badly to turn back time, to do something differently, because if you did, he would still be alive. you'd still be searching for seattle.

but seattle wasn't real, and the boy you loved was taken from you by the very thing you hated the most.

[yun9i]

painkiller — xiao.

— xiao (genshin impact) x gn!reader synopsis: when he was at his worst, only you treated it best. cw: major character death, friends to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, settles during around archon war, a terribly written fic from years ago that i reposted so this is not proofread | wc: 2.8k notes: a sad attempt at me trying to write pre-archon war, spare me! reuploading this from ao3 btw...

the birds started chirping in the air as you walked out of your humble home. clutching your bag to your chest, you kept your belongings safe. being an instrumentalist was a talent of yours growing up, and now here you are, one of liyue's few musicians. you walked to the transport and sat in with a fruit vendor who smiled at you. 

walking to the mt. aocang with gifts in hand to give to morax, guizhong, and the cloud retainer, you hummed to the silence of the area. suddenly, a dash of wind brushed through your hair. you chuckled, knowing exactly who it was from.

"hey, xiao," xiao walked by your side and walked with you. "hey, (y/n)," you smiled at his presence. "are you invited as well?" you asked, grinning at xiao. "correct, in fact, they told me to come fetch you," xiao explained, looking up at the mountain. "so hold on tight," xiao abruptly said, holding your body and the bag you carried. "what—" you got cut off by the coldness of the wind. shutting your eyes closed, you gasped for air.

"(y/n)! xiao! you've arrived!" guizhong cheered, helping xiao with holding the food you brought for the adepti. "xiao, you can put them down now," morax reminded, looking over at the both of you. "right, my apologies," xiao let you sit on a chair nearby. 

"it appears that they're frightened, did anything happen on the way here?" the cloud retainer asked, looking over at you. "i think it was the teleporting," morax suggested, earning a nod from xiao who rested on the tree above them.

"come on, dear. eat this," guizhong offered you a bite of mora meat. you happily ate a bite and smiled at the goddess. "thank you, lady guizhong." she smiled back at you. "can you at least warn them next time?" guizhong playfully scolded xiao, making everyone laugh. "of course, lady guizhong."

"thanks for walking me back, xiao," he hummed, acknowledging your thankfulness. "it's only natural for me to do, (y/n)," he responded, earning a light chuckle from you. he unknowingly smiled at you, enjoying your happiness. "well, thank you for the kind act, alatus," you smiled, waving him goodbye as you returned home. 

as you walked away, xiao felt blood rush to his cheeks. he knew he wasn't new to the feeling. it happens a lot when you're around. clearing his throat, he walked back to guili plains. "it'd be impossible, stop thinking about it." xiao reminded himself, as he always did.

since mortals and immortals aren't supposed to fall in love.

"thank you for walking them back, xiao," guizhong smiled, finding him walking back to the area. "it's my duty to help," xiao stated, catching up to guizhong. "you know, i find it nice that you two go well with each other," xiao choked. "remember when you suddenly appeared when they were playing music?" xiao covered his face from embarrassment. "they screamed twice! they fell and thought you'd kill them," guizhong laughed. 

"their life has gone haywire since they got involved with the adepti," xiao stated, guizhong agreeing. "but we're here to keep them safe, so we should be fine, right?" xiao hesitated before nodding. "and they're in good hands, too." guizhong smiled at xiao, seeing his cheeks glow a slight pink. 

"no, stop. this isn't allowed," xiao cut himself off and shook his head. a mortal? with an adeptus? impossible. lives so far apart, dreams so different from each other. but then, only you give him the butterflies.

and only you do it best.

it was a busy morning a few days later. multiple people came around and prepared for a small event that guizhong initiated. many people walked around with smiles on their faces from excitement. however, you were pacing back and forth, nervous. it was a small event, but your thoughts got to the best of you. 

"what if i fail? what if i make a mistake? what if i become a laughing stock? what if everyone brings up the fact that i failed today? what—" you shook your head before starting to nibble on your fingernails. you halted and stood in silence at one major thought. "what if xiao sees?!" you started pacing in a faster speed.

"you'll be fine, (y/n)," xiao interrupted, standing by the door. "oh my god, warning please! don't scare me like that," you yelped from shock. "oh, my apologies," xiao trailed off. "i'm pretty sure it was you who called, though…" xiao muttered under his breath.

"i'm so nervous i can't even focus anymore, i'm so scared something will go wrong and it'd be my fault, i—" you were interrupted by a warm embrace. "you'll do fine, trust me. i believe in you." you swore there was a certain warmth in his gaze where it usually was cold. you swore his voice sounded like honey when it was usually ice. you swore his smile shined where there was usually none. you were calm. you're okay.

because he's here.

"a-alright, i'll calm down. but can you practice with me for a bit? i wanna go over the song a few more times," xiao chuckled, nodding. he grabbed the messy notes sheet before listening to you play. god, how stunning you were. 

you blinked a few times before hearing xiao's voice. "great job, you did well." you could jump to the moon from how ecstatic you felt. you smiled brighter than the sun that day. xiao widened his eyes as he fell into the sweetness of your laugh. he cleared his throat as he heard your partner come in signaling you to come out to perform. 

"thanks, xiao. i'll be going now!" xiao chuckled before nodding, vanishing into thin air. you walked outside to see a crowd turning to your arrival. you chuckled, sitting on a chair as you prepared to start the song.

xiao sat on a tree close to the stage and watched you play perfectly. he hummed and sang along, having memorized the song from a while ago. and he wouldn't want to admit, but he memorized this song from hearing you singing it every once in a while. 

play a song that you'd like, and he'll know every line.

sunset came, and the guili plains were still as lively as ever. you were happy with everyone around. the livelihood of the area was energizing. the people, the songs, the crowd, the lights. even xiao enjoyed it.

but maybe because it was you. 

"xiao?" his thoughts got cut off as you approached him with almond tofu in hand. xiao accepted it with a nod and thanked you silently. both of you sat in a secluded area, sitting on a tree where it was a bit chilly. there was a cold wind that passed by, making you shiver and envelope your body in your arms. xiao noticed and handed you his plate.

"xiao?" xiao briefly smiled and vanished into thin air, leaving you confused. a few seconds later, xiao came back with a coat and a blanket in hand. "here," he said as he passed them to you. "thank you, xiao." you smiled as he helped you put on the coat. "the sun is setting," xiao pointed out, looking at the sun that faded under the tall mountains. "and yet the place is as lively as ever." you laughed, agreeing.

"i'll miss moments like these. the livelihood, the happiness, the scenery, everything," you said with a smile growing. xiao chuckled. "yeah, i agree, the scenery is great, i could stare at it for days," xiao said, looking at you. you chuckled, oblivious to his loving stare. "moments like these i wish i could stop time," you giggled, continuing your meal.

moments like these you cherish, you wish you could keep. xiao would definitely fulfill your wishes and he will at a snap of a finger. 

too bad he couldn't.

the archon war began. seeing deities take each other down for the sake of divinity was not something you would see daily. it was frightening. but you knew you'd be safe, of course you would be. 

you just didn't expect everyone else not to.

havria's surge of power almost salinified everyone who remained. you ran as fast as you could, away from there. sal terrae was the last thing havria had for her people, and now here she was, slain by the first and last king of her people. "xiao, xiao, xiao, xiao," you called for xiao multiple times, sobs and ragged breaths in between. the fear of death grew bigger as you ran with the last few people who survived and ran with you. 

after a few seconds, xiao appeared and helped everyone out of the area. xiao carried you out of the area while you cried in his warm embrace. "it's okay, (y/n). you're safe now," xiao reassured you, stroking your head with his warm hands. from orders of guizhong and morax, he guided everyone left to guili plains to stay safe. once you arrived at guili plains, you were the one who enlightened the two gods of the death of their fellow god. 

"well that's…saddening…" morax responded, looking down in defeat. everyone stood in silence to honor havria's legacy until you heard screams outside. "damnit," morax cursed, running outside to protect the city. "everyone, take cover!" guizhong shouted, pulling you over to protect you. "lady guizhong, let me fight," you pleaded, pulling out the spear from thin air. "but (y/n)—" you cut her off and ran outside. 

you took a deep breath before entering the battle. having learned a thing or two from xiao, you tried to help and defend yourself from enemies nearby. there was bloodshed everywhere. you let go of the fear and hoped for the best. 

despite how strong everyone was, it wasn't enough to save everyone. the city that once stood tall under morax and guizhong's supervision crumbled to the ground. the entire war within the area eventually killed and/or harmed other people.

including you.

you coughed out blood as you felt a pole pierce through your abdomen. you turned to see someone grinning in victory. you yelped as you weakly raised your spear and pierced it through his body. "(y-y/n)!" you heard from the side, your vision getting hazy. "xiao…" you muttered as you slowly walked to the yaksha with most of your already fleeing strength. 

the fear xiao had in his eyes when he saw you dying in his warm arms, from a random pole from a random stranger. it hurt.

morax turned to xiao and found him running to your dying body. he saw the random man laughing in victory and felt anger boil inside of him. he smashed his body with a gigantic meteor. he felt anger due to the fact that this moron destroyed the life of a human he thought was family to him because of how different you treated him. 

"wishing you all the best, (y/n)." morax muttered, attending to the other enemies. xiao turned to morax and cried. "morax—" xiao started, only to be disrupted. "get everyone to safety!" he only shouted, pushing xiao away. xiao nodded, carrying you and gathering everyone and fleeing to mt. tianheng with the other people to keep them safe from further danger. 

"…x-xiao—" you were interrupted by a cough accompanied by blood. xiao started worrying and a few tears escaped his eyes. "(y/n), no. not now, we're almost there, i swear." you laughed, trying to lighten the atmosphere. "why are you laughing? you're literally dying," xiao sobbed, still upset at how lightly you were treating this situation.

"come on, xiao. lighten up a bit, it's not like i'm disappearing forever," you chuckled. "you're not immortal like i am, (y/n). please, let's just go—". "xiao, please…" you begged, slightly crying. "you're hurt, we need to go—". "xiao…" you called out.

"(y/n), please! you're dying! why do you think i am doing this? we need to get you healed!" xiao cried, giving in to his heart. breathing in a lot deeper than most breaths you've taken, you smiled. "xiao, you kill the pain. better than anyone or anything else in the world"

"you're my painkiller," you touch his cheek with your almost cold hands. "so it doesn't hurt." xiao started crying, sobbing as some people stopped by. "(y/n), please i'm begging you—". "xiao, please. go on, bringing me will only risk the others' lives" you responded. "but—"

"xiao." you called, stopping him. he cried for a few minutes.

"i hate you, i hate you, i hate you, i hate you—" xiao kept chanting as he carried your body and ran for his life, everyone doing the same. "xiao, i swear to the archons—" you were cut off by xiao. "just shut up and stay awake." xiao shouted, running faster than light. "wow, rude." you joked. "this is not the time to be joking, (y/n). you're literally dying." xiao responded, angered. "so?" you retorted. xiao halted, slowing down for a bit.

"…i love you." he muttered, weak in volume, but loud in your heart. "if there were a word better than love, i'd use it. i just realized how special you are to me. you make me feel things that i don't with others. you give me emotions to feel. you give me motivation to do things. you give me what i need when i need it. you make the pain disappear."

with your mouth left open from shock, you ignored the pain and the blood seeping out of your clothing. "you're my painkiller," he muttered. "and only you kill it the best." you smiled, your heart fluttering. silence grew in between the both of you until you spoke.

"hey xiao, can we walk like we usually do? pretend that i'm not dying." you muttered, gripping onto his clothing. xiao let out a sigh, nodding as he slowed down on the path to the area they evacuated to. xiao walked, step by step, listening to you ramble about random things. he suddenly started sobbing in silence.

"xiao, you know i love you, right?" xiao nodded, hearing the silence in your voice. "well, i love you," he chuckled. "thank you for everything," tears started running down his face. "thanks for killing the pain," he smiled, for you. "i'll see you soon."

he felt how your arms went limp. he felt how the silence replaced your voice. he felt how cold your skin was.

you were dead.

he cried, for an hour. he came down to where liyue harbor was established. everyone saw how xiao carried your dead body on his back, the same feeling of death reflected on his face. no one could decipher his feelings.

anger that he couldn’t save you? sadness from the fact that he lost you? grief from your death? happiness for your peaceful passing?

morax arrived at the area after a while, carrying guizhong's hair clip. xiao and morax looked at each other and sighed. everyone who died in the battle was buried in a certain area. xiao sighed, standing up. a blank expression adorned his face.

maybe this time, no one can help him.

"why do we always run errands for people?" paimon asked, annoyed. "oh come on, it's zhongli. i'm sure this isn't anything that big of a deal." lumine replied, laughing. lumine, while travelling with paimon, came to give xiao a box delivered from zhongli. none of the two knew what was in the box.

"xiao~" paimon called, looking for him where zhongli told them to go. "paimon? traveler? what are you both doing here?" xiao questioned, standing up from the rock. "zhongli told us to give you these," lumine offered a box that zhongli had prepared. xiao opened the box to qingxin painkillers and violetgrass on a hair clip. he smiled, thinking of you.

"woah, seeing xiao smile is so rare!" paimon said, peeking at the box. lumine and paimon didn't really question the hairclip, despite it being unnatural for xiao. "painkillers? are you sick?" lumine asked, concerned. xiao shook his head. "it's nothing of your concern," xiao answered, holding the box close to his chest. "let us walk you to the inn! we have to talk to verr about a commission anyways!" paimon suggested.

"so, xiao," paimon started, dragging out the syllables in calling his name. xiao hummed in response. "what's that hairpin for?" paimon asked. xiao smiled, looking at the pink skies. "someone special," he responded, looking back at the two with a small smile.

"woah, they must be that special if you're smiling, huh?" paimon blabbered. xiao chuckled, nodding. "they're an old friend who i cherished a lot," xiao stated. "ooh, who are they?" lumine chirped in, asking.

"they're my painkiller."

© YUN9I 2024 ; all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, or repost on any other platforms other than my own.

[koostattoos]

➳ There’s Only Me When There’s You || j.jk

~ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

~ Genre: slight enemies to lovers, high school au, fluff, MAJOR angst, first love, young love (Inspired by 2000's film A Walk to Remember by Nicholas Sparks)

~ Summary: Being new was tough. Starting out in a new school and new town without any idea where to go or any friends was tougher. When coming across Jungkook and his friends, school hadn't got any easier. When you get paired with Jungkook for a project your life becomes hell, or was it heaven?

~ Warnings: MAJOR character death, a fight happens, mentions of a hospital, mentions of blood, fluff, fluff, fluff! 190811!jungkook (iykyk), they’re so incredibly adorable i’m crying, use of petnames (mostly baby)

~ teaser word count: 684

full fic here!

This past summer your family moved to a new city. Yongsan was small, that’s what you liked about it. But your family wanted to get away from the big bustling city of Seoul. They thought it’d be better for you. Moving was exciting to you. Being in a new place and all. The house they had bought was small, it had two bedrooms, with a bathroom, and a big enough living space for the three of you.  

The people in the neighborhood were nice. They welcomed you with fresh food and some plants to plant in the mini greenhouse next to the yard. It was very thoughtful of them. Tomorrow is your first day at your new school. You were going into your senior year. They say it’s supposed to be one of the most exciting times in high school.  

After you finish unpacking your things you walk into the living room where your dad was sitting. He was on the phone talking with the moving people to figure out where the rest of your stuff was. And your mom was in the kitchen preparing dinner. You decide to take yourself out of the house and explore the small town you now call home.  

Making sure your parents knew where you were, you turn your head around the corner of the kitchen and call for your mom. 

“I’m gonna go out and look around town, is that okay?”  

“Yeah, sure. Just be careful. Don’t go too far and be back before the sun goes down.” she tells you 

Nodding your head, you turn to put your shoes on and make sure you have your phone with you. The air outside was nice. It was still mid-summer but the weather around this time seemed to cool down.  

When you walk into the village you meet a lot of nice people. Mrs. Kim was the first person you met. “Hi honey. Are you new around here? I don’t think I’ve ever seen your face around here”. She ran one of the local restaurants.  

“No, I’ve actually moved here a few days ago. My family and I live nearby. I just wanted to come in and see what was around here. So, I know somewhat my way around.” you explain to her. She nods her head and gasps as an idea pops up into her head.  

“Well, if you ever need anything, please stop by. I’ll be glad to help” she says to you with a sweet smile.  

“Thank you, Mrs. Kim. I’ll keep that in mind. Have a good night” you smile at her and walk away to explore more of the village. There wasn’t much to do. There were a few bookstores you had walked past and a few other markets. Deciding to head back home you text your mom that you were on your way. Without looking at where you were going you bumped into a firm chest. When you look up, you’re met with a teenage boy. His hair was a bit of a mess but still maintained. He was actually rather cute.  

Before you could say anything, he says, “Are you okay?” you pause for a minute trying to collect your thoughts. He looks blankly at you waiting for you to respond. Finally, after staring at him for what felt like an eternity, you answer him. “Yeah, I’m okay. I’m sorry for bumping into you” you bow your head slightly to him as you apologize.  

“It’s alright. Are you new around here? I don’t think I’ve seen you before” you respond the same way you answered to Mrs. Kim. You tell him that you had just moved here a few days ago with your family. He nods his head and excuses himself. But not before he introduces himself.  

“I’m Jungkook by the way.” He has a faint smile on his lips. You tell him your name. “It’s nice to meet you, Jungkook” he nodded and slowly started to walk away. “It was nice to meet you too” Finally, you both bid goodbye to each other and you make your way back home.

[aziraphales-library]

I *love* any fics where Crowley is hurt incredibly bad and Aziraphale must save him or bring him back to health. I also LOVE fics that delve into trauma or mental health which stripes the characters of their mask and they must rely on someone/each other. Do you have any recommendations for fics that are either, or both? Happy endings are a major must for me, but I am open to any suggestions!

You'll want to check our #crowley whump, #hurt crowley, and #protective aziraphale tags for loads of fics like this. Here are some that may or may not have been recommended before, but mind the tags on all of these!...

Where's My Mind? by ebullience24 (T)

See, the thing is: Crowley is tall. His height had caused a few stares back in the days where the tallest man stood at five foot five. And, because of his height, one might be inclined to describe him as slender with spindly fingers and snake-hips. The pun is never intended on that last one but it stands true nonetheless. And Crowley would be likely to agree with these statements: he is tall and slender and spindly and snake-hipped. But what Crowley would be less likely to agree upon is the statement that he, Anthony J Crowley, is underweight. OR: Crowley has an eating disorder. Trigger Warnings now and at the beginning of each chapter.

Safe Haven by McRaider (T)

When Anthony Crowley stepped back into Aziraphale's life for the first time after eight long years missing, it became exceedingly clear with him came a world of trouble and heartache. But Aziraphale never could say no to his beloved Crowley. Can he help Crowley heal after a failed marriage, a gas-lighting ex-wife with an evil plan?

To Speak the Unspoken by ihamtmus (T)

“Uhhhh… Hi,” Crowley started lamely, scrambling to find a way to explain the situation as quickly as possible. His mind was refusing to work properly, thoughts slow as if doused in oil. He hadn’t really thought about what to say on his way here – he’d been too busy focusing on the getting here part before he would collapse. “I was wondering if I could… If I could maybe die in here, if you don’t mind..?” The expression on Aziraphale’s face changed abruptly, telling him that the angel did, in fact, mind. (In which a mortally wounded demon just wants to get somewhere quiet to die but his Adversary will have none of it. A story of how they both learn just how much they care.)

Death in Love by Aspirina_Effervescente & Cyanidechan (M)

After tempting a composer to fame and success, Crowley is cursed by his wife and tormented by her ghost until the end of his days. Aziraphale would do anything to save him, the only problem is that he doesn't know what's going on and, anyway, the problem could be much more complicated than it seems. Inspired by Giuseppe Tartini’s Sonata “the Devil’s trill”

Drops of Sorrow by EdosianOrchids901 (M)

Ten years after the failed Apocalypse, Crowley is captured by Heaven. Gabriel plans to use him as bait to lure Aziraphale into a fight. Can Crowley survive captivity, and will Aziraphale be able to rescue him without walking into the trap?

A Touch of Heaven by IneffableToreshi (E)

A despondent and defeated Crowley has been through the ringer, moreso even than his roommate, Newt, realizes. After a car accident puts him though a number of surgeries and a temporary - but terrifying - few weeks of blindness, the club owner wants nothing more than to curl up in his bed and refuse to move until things return to normal...or as normal as they'll ever be again. Newt - and his cafe-owning girlfriend, Anathema - have other plans. They think that Crowley just needs some care and pampering, so Anathema schedules him a special, off-hours appointment with a friend of hers who is a rather sought-after masseur. Crowley is hesitant and stubborn, but Aziraphale's soothing voice and comforting nature soon win him over, in more ways than one...

- Mod D

[rotthepoet]

hiii,

as someone who only recently started poking their nose into this, help i am so confused T-T do you have like a slythering boys 101 or something i am so lost on them and their personalities q-q

- 🦆 anon (it/its) (<- if that‘s still free)

O H M Y G O D S

I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO ASK ME FOR A FULL RUN DOWN EHEHEHEHHWHEHE THANK YOU

okay so essentially the Slytherin boys consist of about 5-7 boys. Draco Malfoy(canon), Blaise Zabini(Canon), Theodore Nott(canon character, will explain), Mattheo Riddle(Fanmade), Lorenzo Berkshire(Fanmade), Tom Riddle(the third. Fanmade, not the dead one), and Regulus Black(Fanmade, again not the dead one)

You’ll typically see Draco, Blaise, Mattheo, Lorenzo, and Theodore being written about, but its not hard to find Tom Riddle and Regulus Black content either.

So like? Who are these people?? How did they come to be??

We already know Blaise and Draco, they frequent both the books and movies so i’m not going to spend a lot time talking about them.

Draco is just about canon Draco. I can’t think of anything that really changes about him in the fandom.

Blaise has a lot less book/screen time than Draco so a lot of people have taken it upon themselves to characterize him. I see him as a very posh, haughty, quiet person. I think he’s at least half Italian even if he doesnt speak the language, but that differs person to person.

Okay here’s where it gets a bit complicated so stay with me(if you need clarification on anything PLEASE feel free to dm me or send in another ask <3)

Theodore Nott

Mentioned in the books maybe twice, all we know is he’s a slytherin pureblood with some h e a v y ties to Voldemort. Because we have so little information on Theodore, all of it’s basically made up.

Basic information:

He’s fancasted as Lorenzo Zurzolo, and Theodore himself is Italian and completely fluent in the language. You’ll mostly see clips of him from the show Baby(netflix)

Most people agree that his mom is dead, but i’ve seen some fics where shes alive and just ill, and i’ve seen fics where shes alive and just absent. I characterize Theo as a total mamas boy, but again its up to the author.

His dad seems to be abusive or neglectful. Again, death eater dad who is pretty much besties with Voldemort. Daddy issues

I characterize him as best friends with Mattheo Riddle(explain later) because of their family ties, but they truly get along.

He’s an avid smoker with a pension for ciggies, but i’ve also seem him characterized a few times as the Hogwarts plug which i think is SO fun.

He’s this really quiet, observant, yet flirtatious character. He’s a ladies man but still a heart breaker. Everyone wants to sleep with Nott, and thats okay.

Mattheo Ridde

Mattheo comes from a draco x reader fanfic called Possesive by yasmineamaro. I think you can still find it on Wattpad. He’s completely fanmade.

Basic Information:

He’s fancasted by Benjamin Wadsworth, and you’ll mostly see clips of him from the show Deadly Class

He’s the son of Voldemort and Bellatrix Lestrange, and depending on if the author believes in Tom Riddle the Third, Mattheo is the second child.

Again, Avid smoker, also I see him as a heavy drinker. Type of guy to come into class reeking of pot and act like nothing happened.

Fights galore man. Imagine having the dark lord as your dad, no doubt he was fuckin traumatized as a child. Imagine Ominis Gaunt from Hogwarts Legacy, the Guants were FUCKED UP(Gaunts actually became the riddles so this tracks) and often used unforgivables on their own children for discipline. Cant imagine Voldemort wouldnt do the same.

He is angry, he is mean, he is actually really funny and sweet once you talk to him(can we tell i have a favorite?) but getting through that hard outer shell sucks.

Also depicted as a major playboy.

Tom Riddle(the Third)

Oh boy. No idea where he came from, and tbh I see him WAY less often than anyone else. Its really a 50/50 if the author follows him being… real.

Basic information

Okay i don’t really write for Tom so.. bear with me here.

He’s casted as… just Tom Riddle from the Movies. Its just him. I think Tom Riddle second actually got a new fancast but… i dont really care :P

Heir to the Dark Lord, oldest child(again, when he exists, so don’t be surprised to see single child Matty)

Really just copy/paste book tom riddle into a new, young character.

He’s scary asf, academic weapon, also a ladies man but will drop them IMMEDIATELY after he fucks em

Idk what else to say here tbh? Maybe someone else can explain Tom better 😫

Lorenzo Berkshire

No clue how this fucker came to be, I fucking HATE him. Fanmade and BITCHY. JK just got corrected he’s from a draco x oc on wattpad called Filthy by babynaomi

Basic Information:

Fancasted by Louis Partridge, you’ll most likely see clips from Enola Holmes.

Bastard son of Mr. Berkshire and Bellatrix Lestrange which relates him to the Riddles.

I see Lorenzo being this bestie little trio with Theo and Mattheo. But Matt and Theo are way more likely to hang out with eachother than alone with him.

Suppeeeeeeer bitchy. Someone had a DR scenario where he would fuck everygirl he could, write their name down in a little black book, and each girl was worth different points based on blood status.

This guy sucks fr.

Actually some people characterize him as really sweet and fluffy.

I am not one of those people.

Regulus Black

No ideas where this guy came from. He’s literally just dead regulus copy and pasted into an alive, younger regulus. Supposedly the child of Sirius Black and some random woman?

Basic Information

He’s fancasted as Timothee Chalamet, so is dead regulus, its really confusing.

I dont write for him. Really, I dont know what to tell you

I’ve seen him portrayed as an artist?? Erm… again, i really dont know

Sorry pookie 😫

But!! This is fanfiction! And you can make uo all your own information for these guys because theyre not real!! Thats like.. the essential run down i suppose?? If youre confused about anything just let me know 🥰 really, it looks all intimidating but these characters are super easy to understand. Try poking around tiktok for POVS, silly as they are(dont @ me i read them too😫) theyre really helpful for understanding personalities. I remember being super confused when i first found em too.

[letsgoletsgetit08]

fix off pt. 2

summary: Mingi turns to every coping mechanism besides a healthy one in the aftermath of Jongho's death, two years later.

warnings: MDNI!!, 18+, su*c*de attempt, implied/referenced su*c*de, major character death, overdose, recreational drug use, religious imagery & symbolism, catholicism, barebacking, strangers to lovers, bittersweet ending, angst, hurt/comfort

pairing: priest!soft dom!Jeong Yunho x hot fucking mess!Song Mingi

author's note: HEY! Read the tags! This fic has some very heavy content! Please DO NOT READ this if mentions/discussion of suicide/attemps or character deat (RIP Jongho, so glad you're alive IRL, king) are in any way triggering to you! Also, know that myself and Ateez would be very sad if any Atiny or anyone else took their own life. Don't do it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ! !! !!! That said, this work is based on/influenced by/referencing - sometimes lightly, sometimes very directly because Phoebe Waller-Bridge is more of a genius than me - the show Fleabag. This show is personally very important to me, it both healed me in some ways and also hurt me very deeply. If you have seen the show, you know how this ends. Again, read the tags. Phoebe, if you happen to read this for whatever reason, I just hope you're flattered because of imitation and all that.

OKAY! Disclaimers disclaimed, please let me know if I missed anything. And with that, please enjoy. This one is kind of my baby. I hesitated to even post it here because I'm a little scared of how it will be received but you never know until you try, right? Comments, likes, & re-blogs are always welcome, but please be civil.

word count: 23,480

ao3 link: fix off

December 3rd

Mingi had been back at his apartment for a few weeks, finding it odd to be there. Exciting and nerve-wracking, but also comforting. It didn’t feel the same, but he hadn’t wanted to be at Wooyoung and San’s any longer. After Halloween weekend, he had been doing much better. Reading for fun again. His bar hadn’t even fired him, it turned out that Hongjoong had explained everything to his manager, who begrudgingly agreed, probably, Mingi thought, under Hongjoong’s scary gaze, to let him come back whenever he was ready. Mingi was very grateful. Yes, he had been considering if he had even wanted it any longer, but once he decided he wanted to go to grad school, he realized he would probably need at least a part time job. Plus, his savings wouldn’t last forever. 

He was getting ready for dinner that night, debating on what to wear. Mingi honestly had no clue who all was going to be there besides his friends. Seonghwa hadn’t wanted to overwhelm him by forcing him to un-mute the group chat, so he just texted him the dress code, location, and time in a separate text. 

Eventually, he landed on a black turtleneck under a blue (so dark it was nearly black itself) suit with a black satin lapel and matching blue suit pants. Black dress shoes. Silver jewelry. 

Upon his arrival to the restaurant, he couldn’t help but be startled. His friends sat around a large round table, with the addition of a man in a black button-up with a little white piece in the collar, silver rosary necklace around his neck. 

His beautiful neck.

The empty spot at the table was next to the hot priest. 

“Mingi!” Hongjoong called as he approached, “Glad you’re here. This is Father Jeong Yunho. He’s going to be marrying us.”

The man, even taller than Mingi, large brown eyes holding a subtle mischievous glint, stood to shake Mingi’s hand, “Just ‘Yunho’ is fine. Nice to meet you.”

Mingi glanced down. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, his hands. “Mingi, nice to meet you.”

Yunho quirked an eyebrow, head tilting to the side like a confused puppy, almost like he could hear Mingi’s thoughts, “Seonghwa was just telling about how he and Hongjoong met.” He changed the subject. 

“Yes!” Seonghwa exclaimed, evidently already a drink deep, “I mean we met in college, but we didn’t really meet each other until karaoke on New Year’s Eve…”

Mingi had heard the story a thousand times, letting his brain go blank as he ate, knowing that everyone else would carry the conversation. 

He was right, too. It lasted through appetizers. 

No one has said a word to me in half an hour.

“So, what do you do for a living?” Yunho turned to Mingi. 

He probably jumped in his seat at the sudden attention, “Oh. Um. I’m a bartender.”

“He’s applying for grad school!” Seonghwa supplied. 

“I’ve also recently decided to apply for grad school.” Mingi echoed, holding back from rolling his eyes at his friend.

“Amazing. What will you study?” Yunho’s eyes locked onto his like he was the only person in the room.

Mingi felt his face go red, “Oh. Um. Anthropology.”

“It’s okay, Mingi. Believe it or not, some priests also believe in evolution.” Yunho smiled kindly. 

He’s sharp.

“Are you one of those priests?” Mingi couldn’t help but try to feed his curiosity some scraps.

“I am one of those priests.” Yunho winked, “I believe in a lot of things that would probably surprise you.”

“Gay marriage.” Mingi offered.

“Mingi!” Seonghwa accosted him. 

Yunho chuckled, “Yes, including gay marriage. Just none for me, personally. They really frown upon that.”

What about gay sex?

Yunho raised his eyebrows, a movement so quick that Mingi was sure the whole table had missed it, seeming to follow Mingi’s train of thought. 

“What's the worst wedding you've had to do so far?” Wooyoung piped up, changing the subject once again. 

Yunho huffed a humorless laugh, “Ah, probably my brother's but that's because he's-” 

“Uptight groom, huh?” Hongjoong offered.

“No, it’s-”

“I'm sure it was a little weird marrying a family member.” Seonghwa tried to conclude on his own.

“Did you not like his spouse?” Yeosang asked. 

“He's dead!” Yunho said, a little too loudly, “Sorry. Yeah. This will actually only be my second wedding. Turns out Catholic priests who are willing to perform gay marriages aren't exactly in high demand.”

Mingi's hands had gone clammy at his words, “Cigarette.” He mumbled, pushing his chair back. 

“Mingi, wait, I'll go-” Wooyoung called after him, but someone cut him off. 

“Let me.” He heard Yunho's voice but didn't turn around, heading out the side door of the restaurant, steadying his breathing as he leaned against the brick wall. His hands shook as he brought the cigarette to his mouth. 

Yunho was there beside him in the blink of an eye, raising a lighter and cupping his hand around Mingi's cigarette to light it. 

He was grateful the man let him sit in silence for a minute. He heard him light his own cigarette, ignoring how he could see how pretty his lips looked as they wrapped around it from the corner of his eye. 

Mingi let out a long draw, smoke hovering in the cold autumn air, “My friend, our friend, Jongho, passed away a little over two years ago.” 

“Oh, Mingi, I'm sorry. I didn't know. This was supposed to be a get-to-know-each-other dinner so that I could do the couple justice at their wedding.”

Mingi could feel the others’ eyes on him, but didn't dare look quite yet, “There's no way you would have known. I've just been. Well. It's been a lot, lately. I'm trying to be better.” 

Yunho leaned into his space far enough that Mingi had to look into his eyes. He had never felt eye contact that left him feeling so open, so vulnerable before. But not in a predatory way. Not like he was rolling over and showing his belly in submission. It was something else entirely. He felt seen. “If you ever need to talk, Mingi. My rectory is right behind the chapel. Over on 3rd street downtown.” 

“I'm not religious.” 

“Neither am I.” Yunho looked serious. 

“You're literally a priest-” Mingi started.

“I know, I know. It's not that I don't believe, it's just… complicated. But I am a qualified person to lend an ear. If you ever need one.” 

Mingi studied him as he took another drag of his cigarette. “I'll keep that in mind, Father. ” He blinked up at him through his eyelashes, just to see what reaction the man would have.

Yunho rolled his eyes, but Mingi clocked the exact shade of red his neck turned at his words. Yunho put his cigarette out on the wall beside him, “I'll see you back inside, then.”

Mingi’s head spun.

Why does the priest have to be hot?

December 7th

Returning to work was disorienting to say the least. The bar had a pretty high turnover rate, so no one he currently worked with had been there after Jongho passed. He had intentionally not gotten close with any of them since then. He had hoped his manager hadn’t said anything about why he had been gone, but as soon as he arrived, he knew that wasn’t the case. His coworkers all gave him horribly pitying looks and skirted around him like he might dissolve on the spot if they were anything but excessively gentle with him. 

One of them tried to give him her tips when her shift was over. He declined, of course. Although the money would have been nice. Another one of the servers made sure to say “please” and “thank you” when dropping off drink orders. His fellow bartender had insisted upon letting him work the well so he didn’t have to deal directly with customers. It was nice and in theory, he appreciated it. But in practice, it made him feel singled out. 

When his manager offered to cut him early, he accepted, pretending not to see the other bartender slip some of his tip money into Mingi’s tip jar while he thought Mingi wasn’t looking. 

Mingi walked out, shivering in the chill air before remembering he had left Jongho’s hoodie inside. He turned back to retrieve it but something caught his attention from the corner of his eye. A bell tower piercing the night sky could be seen a few blocks away. 

Yunho did say to come by any time.

He opened his phone to Google Maps to confirm that the church he was headed towards was indeed the one the priest had been referencing. 

It was.

After retrieving his hoodie he began to make his way over.

He skirted around the outside of the main building, finding the rectory exactly where the man had said it would be. 

Why did the priest have to be hot?

He knocked, never once considering it was nearly 11pm and non-bartenders with normal hours might be asleep. 

Yunho answered the door a minute later, one eye still scrunched closed, hair mussed in the back, wearing a well-worn Spiderman t-shirt and athletic shorts. 

“Mingi?” Yunho’s voice was raspy.

He remembered my name!

“Hi, sorry.” Mingi felt his ears go hot, “You said come by anytime-”

“No, no, of course.” Yunho rubbed his eyes, “I meant it, too. I just maybe hadn’t considered um. Bartender hours.”

Mingi stood like a deer in headlights, frozen in the doorway, “I can just go-”

“No.” Yunho moved out of the way, “I’ll put on some tea, come inside. I really don’t mind. I’ve just been, uh, really enjoying going to bed early lately.” 

“Sorry.” 

“Stop apologizing or I’ll kick you out.” Yunho turned towards his small kitchen, looking for the kettle.

“That seems counterintuitive, Father.” Mingi couldn’t help myself. 

Yunho whipped around, “Oh, fuck off with that.”

“With what?” Mingi asked, trying to sound innocent.

Maybe he prefers ‘daddy’. 

Yunho stared him down, “Do you want some wine instead?

Mingi chuckled, “Like… the blood of Christ himself?”

Yunho rolled his eyes, “No like wine from France that’s burning a hole in my cabinet.” 

“Yes, that sounds nice.” 

Yunho smiled, eyes tracing over Mingi’s face like he was reading the subtitles to his inner monologue. Mingi looked down, unable to stand having someone flay him open so casually like that. Yunho turned, fishing coffee mugs and the wine out of the cabinets. 

“Sorry, I don’t own wine glasses, funnily enough.”

Mingi huffed haughtily, laying his fake distaste on heavily, “Ew, nevermind, I’m leaving.”

“No, wait, come back, I haven’t even made you repent yet!” Yunho called as he brought the coffee mugs over to the table, where he indicated for Mingi to sit. 

“You’re just assuming I need to repent for something?” Mingi crossed his arms over his chest.

“Do you need to? Why don’t you tell me what brought you here tonight.” Yunho handed Mingi the coffee mug, fingers brushing. 

Electricity shot up Mingi’s arm, nearly making him drop the mug. 

God, his fingers.

“Where’d you just go?” Yunho caught his gaze again.

Mingi met his eyes, thinking that he might feel more naked in front of him now than he would if he actually had his clothes off. He ignored Yunho’s question. “I work nearby, actually. My shift was… weird tonight.”

“Weird how?” Yunho leaned in, propping his forearms on the table, listening intently.

“It was my first night back.” Mingi took a sip of the wine, letting it warm his insides and loosen his tongue, “I didn’t expect everyone to know and they all treated me like I would break.”

“First night back from…?” Yunho looked genuinely curious.

Mingi felt embarrassed, having gotten used to everyone knowing what he’d done that he was surprised when Yunho hadn’t been filled in. “Oh. I um. I tried to- well. I did overdose. About a month and a half ago. I apparently had some self-preservation left in me because I called Hongjoong at the last minute.” He stared at the wine in his mug the whole time he spoke, but could feel Yunho’s eyes on him the whole time. “I stayed with Wooyoung and San afterwards because everyone was scared I would… try again.” 

“Mingi…” Yunho reached forward, grabbing Mingi’s wrist, “I’m glad you weren’t successful.”

“Because I would have gone to hell?” Mingi raised his eyebrow.

“Because I wouldn’t have gotten to meet you.” Yunho answered. His words hung in the air, the implication of them, the acknowledgement of the chemistry between the two of them crackling the atmosphere like heat lightning. 

Mingi didn’t know what to say, but Yunho continued before he needed to reply, “You’re doing better now, though?”

Mingi nodded, “I am. I’m maybe actually um processing things. Rather than just coping. But everything on the other side is a little overwhelming, I guess. I hate that my friends are so worried. I want them to be able to just enjoy Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s wedding.”

“Hm.” Yunho let go of his wrist, taking a drink of his own wine, “Do you want my advice?”

Mingi smiled, “No, I came over just for the wine and weird energy between us.”

Yunho laughed, “Okay, heard, loud and clear.” He composed himself, taking a breath, “Mingi, I think that you have to realize your friends find it to be a privilege to have you in their lives to worry about you. Worrying is one of the biggest indications of caring about someone. The fact that you’re worrying about them worrying… well it sounds to me like you and your friends have a lot of love for each other. Just try to be grateful you have people to worry about and who worry about you in return. Not everyone can say that for themselves.” Mingi didn’t miss how the vein in Yunho’s forehead became slightly more pronounced at his last sentence. 

He sighed, finishing his wine as he let Yunho’s words process, “I guess I hadn’t thought about it like that. Thank you.” 

Yunho smiled, “Any time, Mingi. So I guess you don't actually have anything to confess then, hm?”

Mingi barked a laugh, “Ha! I have so much to confess but not tonight.” Mingi stared a hole through the table.

“Well,” Yunho waited until Mingi returned his eye contact, “I'm here. If you ever need to. Actually, here.” He pulled out his phone, “In case it's a very specific priest-related emergency.”

Mingi chuckled as he put his number into the man's phone, “Have you experienced a lot of those?”

“Nah,” Yunho dialed the number so Mingi would have his as well, “Surprisingly, most of the time it’s a pretty monotonous lifestyle.”

“Most of the time.” Mingi couldn’t help but admire the man’s pretty cheekbones, plush lips. 

Yunho seemed to be doing the same, “Yeah.” He sighed, eyes lingering on Mingi’s lips a little too long to be subtle, “Most of the time.”

“I should get going. It’s past your bedtime.” Mingi stood up rather abruptly, breaking the tension.

“It is indeed, but that’s okay. I’m glad you came by.” Yunho’s expression was genuine, eyes holding a hint of what Mingi swore was forbidden desire swimming behind the surface. 

Mingi stood to leave, letting Yunho walk him to the doorway. He turned before he was out the door, “Yunho?”

Yunho smiled softly, “Yeah?”

“Who do you have that worries about you?” Mingi whispered it, too nervous to speak any louder. 

Yunho’s eyelids fluttered, “Surely after all the time I’ve devoted, the Lord himself worries for me.”

“He doesn’t count.” Mingi was standing so close he could have kissed him, “I’ll worry for you now.”

Yunho’s chest heaved at his words, “Mingi… I’ll worry for you, too.” 

December 12th

Therapy. 

Mingi was going to really try this time, too. 

His chest was tight with anxiety as he entered her room, sitting on the couch opposite of her chair. She was older, hawk-like features trying to appear soft.

Not my type.

“Is there anything in particular you want us to focus on today?” She asked, reedy voice managing to cut through his nervous internal monologue. 

He took a deep breath, then started the only place he knew to, “My best friend is dead.”

“That must be very hard for you.”

“Well, yeah. Made all the worse because I did something that I think contributed to him dying. We don’t even know for sure if it was a suicide or not. But I feel like deep down, we all know.” Mingi couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out.

“Why do you think you contributed to it?” She kept her face neutral.

“Because. It was a pretty direct cause and effect. I know I should probably tell them but I never even told him and I think if I had that he might still be here. He could have placed his anger on me rather than himself.” Mingi had never said it out loud before. 

“Hm.” She considered his words, “Why do you think you should tell your friends? This seems to be something between yourself and your friend who passed on.”

“You don’t think I should tell them?” Mingi was surprised.

“If you would have told him originally, he would have been the one in the position to tell your friends what happened. Not you. It’s his to tell. So I think you should go tell him.” She said it like it was the simplest answer in the world. 

“Go… tell him?” He was confused.

“Does he have a gravestone?” 

“He’s in an urn. It’s with his parents.” Mingi replied, swallowing the lump in his throat. 

She thought about it for a minute, “Do you have something of his?”

He nodded.

“Take it outside somewhere nice. Close your eyes and say it out loud like he’s there with you.” 

“That will work?”

She chuckled, “It’s not a magic trick, Mingi. You can’t make grief or guilt go poof with a few words like a magic spell. But you can find ways to lessen their effects. To process. Heal. And I think doing this will help you.”

“I honestly did not come here thinking I would leave with homework.” Mingi couldn’t help but laugh. 

She smiled, “I can’t force you to do anything. I’m just telling you what I think might assist you in building some coping skills.” 

He sighed, slumping back, “Okay. I guess next time we'll get to the story about me trying to kill myself a few months ago.”

Her perfectly composed mask faltered slightly, eyes going wide at his words, “Oh, well, yes. We should definitely talk about that next time.”

Five Years Ago

“I can’t believe we’re about to graduate in a few months.” Jongho sighed, leaning his head against the wall of the library where they were studying. 

“I can’t believe both of us spent four years here and we’ll just be bartending still. Like we could have done without a degree.” Mingi chuckled. 

“Hey!” Jongho kicked his ankle, the angle weird since they were sitting side by side, taking a study break, “Are you saying you don’t think I’ll make it as a musician?”

“No way! Not at all. Of course I believe in you.” Mingi nudged him with his elbow, “I just think it’s funny that all of our friends have real people jobs, or at least auditions or grad school lined up and we don’t.”

“Hm.” Jongho looked at him, “Do you want a boring desk job?” 

“Hell fucking no. I’d rather die.” 

Jongho chuckled, “I’ll sing at your funeral, don’t worry.”

“Good. You better let me die before you.” Mingi fixed him with a serious expression, “I don’t know what I’d do if I had to live life without you, Jjong. I’m your elder, you have to listen to me on this one.”

“We’ll be in the same nursing home together, don’t even worry. If I feel like I’m going to die first, I’ll just murder you real quick.”

“Okay, good, thank you.” Mingi sighed, genuinely relieved at the thought of it, “And make sure they get us plots next to one another at the cemetery.”

Jongho gave him a disgusted look, “Ew, no, I want to be cremated. Whoever survives the longest from our group - Yeosang, I assume - has to put us side by side on his mantle, though.”

“Deal.” Mingi agreed. 

December 13th

Mingi’s thumb hovered over the text box on his phone, typing and re-typing before finally sending the text. 

Me

I have a very specific priest-related favor to ask.

Father Daddy Yunho

I thought you’d never ask. 

What’s up?

Me

My therapist told me to go talk to my dead friend

I don’t want to do it alone

Father Daddy Yunho

I’m free after 3pm

Meet me at the rectum?

**RECTORY 

Dear god, I should really proof-read before sending texts

Me

Buy me dinner first

I’ll see you at your rectum at 3:30pm

Father Daddy Yunho

Ha! Happened to you, too!

Me

No, I typed exactly what I meant to, Father

Father Daddy Yunho

I’m throwing my phone away now.

See you soon

Mingi knocked on the door of the rectory at 3:30pm sharp. He had barely started putting his hand down when it swung open. 

“Hiya!” Yunho chirped, looking a little too peppy for the task at hand.

Mingi couldn't help but smile at the cute look on the priest's face, his eyes crinkled at the corners, “Hi, Father.” He simpered, laying it on a little thick, unable to resist.

“Bye.” Yunho pretended he was closing the door.

“No, wait!” Mingi stopped him, “I'll be good, I promise!” 

Yunho closed the door behind himself, “Very well. Shall we?” 

The walk to the park wasn't a long one, but it felt especially quick given how easy it felt to be around Yunho. He was quick-witted and funny, sometimes verging on cheesy, but fun to talk to, keeping Mingi on his toes in a way that made him feel like he had just hopped off a rollercoaster. Alive, heart pumping, cheeks hurting from laughter, hair swept back from the wind. Once they found Mingi’s favorite park bench overlooking the pond, he pulled noise-cancelling headphones out of his backpack, handing them to Yunho. 

“Sorry, you don't mind, do you? I'm just not ready to tell anyone besides him yet.” Mingi hoped the explanation would be good enough. 

Yunho's eyes were soft, understanding, “Of course.” He reached for them, fingers brushing Mingi’s again as he passed them over, the jolt of the contact going once again straight up Mingi’s spine. 

“Thank you.” Mingi pulled Jongho’s hoodie out of his backpack, “Can you, um. Put that on, too. I just think it will help if I feel like I'm talking to a real person.”

Yunho slipped the hoodie on, not hesitating for a second, “I'm happy to help however you need, Mingi.” He slipped on the headphones, then put the hood up over them, turning to look at Mingi and giving him a small smile and thumbs up as Mingi scrolled through songs on his phone, finally finding one he remembered Jongho liking. Everybody Wants to Rule the World by Tears for Fears. 

“Is it too loud?” Mingi shouted, but Yunho didn't flinch or even turn his head. 

Mingi knew he could have been faking it. He knew that the man could try to listen to his confession. But for whatever reason, he knew Yunho wouldn't. He just wasn't like that. 

Mingi couldn't deny how uncanny it was to see someone else in Jongho’s hoodie with the hood up. He understood how Wooyoung must have felt when he saw Mingi in it in his kitchen a while back. He stared at Yunho for quite a while, letting his mind fall into the illusion of it being Jongho beside him instead.

He cleared his throat, “Jongho. I-” His breath hitched, a lump forming in his throat immediately, “I'm who Tuesday cheated on you with. I'm so sorry.” His voice shook as he continued, “I should have told you immediately. I'm a horrible friend. And the fucked up thing is, I only did it because I knew you would forgive me. But then I couldn't even bring myself to ask for it. And you thought it was your fault he cheated somehow. I was just trying to test his loyalty and then it got out of hand and-” He paused as a sob caught in his throat, hearing Yunho sing the song that was playing quietly under his breath, exactly like Jongho would do if he had a song stuck in his head, “I'm just so sorry, Jongho.” He couldn't go on speaking as the tears took over. The movement of his body being racked by sobs must have caught Yunho’s attention because soon, he was being pulled into the man's warm, strong embrace. 

“Shh, Mingi, it's okay. I've got you.” Gentle hands rubbed his back, “I've got you, Mingi, you're okay.” 

Mingi composed himself enough to sniffle and croak out, “I'm sorry.” 

“No, honey, don't apologize. You're okay.” Yunho cooed. 

Mingi didn't miss the pet name, but chose to ignore it for the time being. The shock and excitement of hearing it did snap him out of his tears, though. He was used to such pet names from his friends, but this felt different. 

Honey.

He finally composed himself, sitting up enough to look into Yunho's eyes, “Thank you.”

Yunho’s breath caught as he became cognizant of their proximity, “Do you feel any better?” His eyes trailed over Mingi’s lips as he asked it. 

“I really do.” Mingi thought he might lean in and kiss him, but decided to pull back last second instead, “Maybe therapy isn't a total crock of shit.” 

Yunho did a good job of hiding his confusion, covering it with a laugh, “I'm glad you're going to therapy, Mingi. I hope it's helpful to you. I think it shows a great deal of love for yourself to seek out help when you need it.” 

“I hadn't thought about it that way.” Mingi confessed. 

“Do you not think you love yourself?” Yunho asked, his deep voice soft as silk. 

Mingi considered the question. I did just try to off myself. “I don't know. I think I'm trying to. Or I want to try. Which is better than could be said about me two months ago.” 

“Hmm.” Yunho studied him, “I think that even trying or wanting to try shows that you already do. Are you going to try, Mingi?” 

I'd do anything you asked me to.

Yunho’s expression changed to one of curiosity, like he had just witnessed something he wasn't supposed to have seen, “There! Just then. You seem like you're here with me and then I'll lose you out of nowhere. Where is it you're going?”

“I probably just had to sneeze or something.” Mingi lied, feeling cagey, like he was being backed into a corner. 

He's lost it.

“That was it again just now!” Yunho was teasing but Mingi felt the end of his nose get tickly with frustration. 

“You're being weird.” Mingi was deflecting. He just wasn't used to feeling so seen. 

Yunho’s face fell, “Sorry. I didn't mean to offend-”

“It’s fine.” Mingi snapped, “Thank you for helping me, can I have the hoodie back now? I'm ready to go home.” 

“Yeah, of course, sorry…” Yunho trailed off, looking embarrassed that he had just gotten scolded. 

He took the hoodie off carefully, handling it like it was a sacred artifact. Which to Mingi, it was. 

“‘S fine.” Mingi mumbled as he started to put the hoodie in his backpack, but stopped as a chilly breeze blew in, deciding to wear it instead. 

They walked back to the rectory in silence, both of them evidently with a lot on their minds. 

“I actually have something for you.” Yunho said a little hesitantly as they arrived, going inside to retrieve it. 

“Um. Okay.” Mingi didn't know what to say. 

Yunho handed him a Bible, well-worn and almost excessively annotated, “I, uh. Highlighted some of my favorite parts.”

Mingi tried to refuse, “Oh, I mean, I really don't-” 

“Read it.” Yunho all but pleaded, “For me, Mingi. Trust me. I'm not trying to make you believe. It's just really well written in some parts.” 

Mingi reached up and took the book into his hands. It felt weird. Almost like he could feel the book breathe in time with Yunho. “Okay. Yes, Father.”

Yunho rolled his eyes, “You really have to stop saying that.”

“Because it turns you on?”

“Because it turns you on.” Yunho parried, eyes leveling with Mingi’s, his stare unwavering. 

Both things are true. 

Mingi blinked, not denying it. 

“Call me if you want to talk about any of it or have any questions or anything.” Yunho offered, referring to the Bible, breaking the heated silence all at once. 

“I will.” Mingi didn't know what else to say. ‘Thanks’ felt wrong because he wasn't quite sure he was thankful for the book. “Thanks again for going with me today. I'll, um. See you.” 

“Anytime. Really. Bye, Mingi.” Yunho looked like he didn't really want him to go. “Be safe.” 

Holy shit he was not joking. 

Mingi felt scandalous as he lay in bed, reading some of the most toe curling, shocking, dark and sexy literature he'd ever read in his life. From what was supposed to be a holy book. 

He didn't hesitate to call when he needed context for a particular story. Or, maybe he just wanted to hear Yunho’s voice. 

“Mingi.” Yunho answered the phone, though it was past his bedtime, voice raspy with drowsiness. 

“So what's the significance of washing feet? It seems kinky to be honest.” 

Yunho chuckled, “I'm sure it easily could have been. It's a sign of respect. Reverence. Mary Magdalene didn't have the proper supplies but she was determined to do it. She presented herself to him anyway. Worshipped him with what she had. Judgement from others be damned, she did it with the faith that Jesus would understand and not be so caught up in the how but instead understanding of the why.”

“A calculated risk.” Mingi thought he understood.

“Yes.” Yunho's breath picked up slightly on the other end of the line, “A surrender.” 

Mingi couldn’t help that he was getting aroused at Yunho's words and his voice. He let out a tiny whimper unwittingly, touching himself through his boxers.

“I think I understand her.” Mingi confessed. 

Mingi heard a faint rustling - bedsheets, he assumed - on the other line before Yunho spoke again, deep voice barely above a whisper, “How so?”

“I just…” He took a shaky breath, “Sometimes I wish someone would just tell me what to do. I fucked it up for so long on my own. I think it would be nice for someone else to take the reins for me.”

“Mingi-” Yunho spoke his name like a prayer. “Say what you’re asking of me. I need to hear you say it.”

“Please. Tell me what to do, Father.” Mingi exposed his desires, laying himself naked at Yunho’s feet.

Metaphorically.

He palmed himself harder, not giving himself the satisfaction of skin to skin contact yet. 

Yunho hesitated, taking an excruciatingly long deep breath, before finally, “That’s it, very good. I knew you could say it. Are you already touching yourself, Mingi?”

“Not yet,” Mingi whined, “I'm trying to be good.”

“Good boy.” Yunho growled, “Just do what I say, okay?” 

Fucking hell.

“Okay.” 

“‘Okay?’” Yunho sounded put out, “Do I need to teach you manners, too, darling?” 

“No, sir.” Mingi’s considerable length was threatening to rip a hole through his boxers, “Sorry… Father. I'll be good.” 

“I know you will. You're already so responsive. I can hear your breath shaking. Why don't you show me how much you like this, hm? Take your underwear off for me, gorgeous.” 

“Yes, sir.” Mingi obeyed, then decided to pop his airpods at the last second, knowing he would want to be hands-free at some point. 

“Let me see. I bet you're already leaking just at the sound of my voice, aren't you?” 

Mingi whimpered at the truth of it, turning on his lamp to get the lighting right as he fisted his throbbing cock, making sure to capture the glint of the shiny pearl of pre-cum already having had gathered at the tip. “Yes, sir. Just look.” He sent the photo. 

He swore he heard Yunho muffle a whine on the other line, “Christ, Mingi, what the hell am I going to do with you?” It was rhetorical, but Mingi answered anyway. 

“Cum with me, I hope.” 

Yunho laughed, the sound of it strained as Mingi could hear the slick noise of lube being applied in the background, “Oh, don't worry, sweetheart. I plan on it. Go ahead and touch yourself. Close your eyes and listen to my voice. I want you to pretend that's my hand that's stroking your pretty cock, baby.” 

“Yes, sir.” Mingi whined as he spit into his hand and grasped himself genuinely, working the pre-cum that had spilled out down his length for extra lubrication. 

“I love how you sound, honey.” Yunho groaned, “Such sweet noises from that pretty mouth of yours.” His voice was becoming strained, “I've thought about your lips since I met you. How plush they are. How they'd feel on mine.” 

Mingi’s pace quickened at the man's words. Every nerve on fire, senses alight. “Please, I want that so bad, Yunho.” 

“How they would feel wrapped around my cock.” He gasped on the other line. 

“Please, I'll do anything-”

“Tell me how my hand feels around you, baby.” Yunho instructed. 

“You feel incredible, Yunho. I'm- I'm getting close.” Mingi’s hips bucked and he knew he wouldn't last long. 

“Fuck, Mingi.” Yunho whined, “Me, too.” 

“Wish you were here.” Mingi all but sobbed.

“I know. I know, I do, too.” Yunho panted, “Go ahead and let go for me, angel. Cum all over my hand.” 

Mingi let out a noise that would make a nun faint and a seasoned war veteran blush, releasing endless amounts of thick, hot liquid onto his hand and stomach, breathing hard from the effort, calling out, “Yunho-” at his release.

“Mingi-ahh!” Yunho echoed him. Mingi knew he would become easily addicted to the sound of the man’s pleasure if he ever got to hear it again. 

“Thank you.” Mingi said, catching his breath, voice sounding small, sated. 

“No, thank you, jagi. You were so good for me, honey.” Yunho, too, was out of breath as he praised him from the other line, “Are you okay? That wasn't too much?”

“It was so good, Yunho.” Mingi breathed, “I feel safe with you.” He couldn’t believe he admitted it. 

“Mmh, I'm so glad, baby.” Yunho's voice was warm on the other line, so close that Mingi could almost feel him in the room with him. 

“Yunho?” 

“What is it, sweetheart?” Yunho’s dulcet tones soothed Mingi’s nerves like a balm. 

“Can you. Um.” Mingi swallowed, “Nevermind.”

“No, what is it, angel? Do you want me to stay on while you fall asleep?” Yunho sounded so concerned, so sweet. 

“Is that too much to ask?”

“No, of course not. I'm happy to do it. I enjoy any time I get to spend with you, Mingi.” Mingi's heart warmed at the vulnerability of the statement. 

“Me, too, Yunho.” He smiled, finished cleaning himself and curled up into bed, fluffy duvet falling over his shoulder, half wishing Yunho was there behind him. 

“Sleep well, Mingi.” Yunho yawned, “Sweet dreams.” 

“Goodnight, Yuyu.” Mingi was only half-conscious of letting the nickname slip out. 

“Mmh.” Yunho sighed, “What am I going to do with you, Mingi.” 

But Mingi was already asleep. 

December 19th

Mingi sank down once again onto his therapist's couch, feeling a little nervous, but also excited to report that things had gone well talking to his friend last week. And it was true. Mingi had to admit that he had felt somewhat of a weight off of his shoulders after confessing.

Maybe the Catholics are onto something. 

“I'm expecting an A+.” Mingi quipped as his therapist entered the room. 

She tried to maintain her professional air but Mingi caught the slight upward curl of her lip, clearly amused, “I'm sorry, Mingi, I don't give out grades. But I'm assuming that means you did your ‘homework’ as you called it?” 

“I did.” Mingi nodded. 

“How do you feel afterwards?” She asked, leaning forward. 

“I feel… like it was the right thing to do.” He sighed, “I had a new friend - well, I’m not sure I can really call him a friend, but that’s all he can be - help me out. I’ve been trying to ask for help when I need it. It’s hard for me, but I’m doing it. I just feel so embarrassed when I do ask for it. But this new friend of mine… I don’t mind asking him for help. I want him to help me. I want, like, a lot of things from him, though.” Mingi felt that he was rambling, stopping himself before he said something he wasn’t even ready to admit to himself. 

“Hmm.” His therapist had been taking notes, but stopped to meet his eye, “When you said all you could be is friends, what does that mean?”

“He’s a priest.”

Her eyes went wide, something that Mingi found amusing, knowing how hard she tried to keep a poker face with him, “So it’s forbidden.”

“Sacrilege, yes.” 

“That’s part of what appeals to you about it, though.” It was technically a question but she said it as a statement. 

“I, um.” Mingi felt himself become a little overwhelmed, “I guess I hadn’t thought about it like that. But yes, I’m sure it plays a part.” He knew she was right as soon as she had said it. 

“And it’s mutual?”

Mingi’s ears went hot at the thought of just how mutual it had been the other night.

If only she knew.

“It’s definitely mutual.” He confirmed, hoping he wasn’t being too candid. 

"We're supposed to be talking about your suicide attempt." She fixed him with a stony expression.

"Aw, come on, please let me talk about boys!" He whined.

“Well, okay. Next time.” She considered, “You’re both adults. He knows the risks as much as you do. As long as it’s consensual and enjoyable and you are fully aware that there’s a significant if not one-hundred percent chance that he’s going to choose God over you in the end, I don’t really see how it’s an issue. If you think you can handle it, emotionally. See where it goes.”

“I’m not sure I can handle it. But I also don’t think I can handle not trying to explore it.” 

“Ah, yes, isn’t that Tennyson? ‘Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.’” She quoted a line from a poem Mingi vaguely thought he had heard before. Regardless, it fit exactly how he was feeling about everything. “Yeah. I think that’s it exactly. I’ve had that mindset for a long time, actually. But before I got to the point where I wanted to end things, it came from a different place.”

“How so?” 

“I guess because it was never mutual before. I would follow any thread pretty recklessly, knowing how I would be left on the other side, but going anyway. Fully cognizant of the fact that these whims had no concern for my well-being. I think it was a form of self-flagellation. But now that I’m learning to love myself, it’s different, I guess. It’s safe to love the priest because it has to end, not because it won’t. The predetermination of it is the perfect out.”

She studied him, absorbing what he had just said, “I think you’re too self-aware for your own good, Mingi.” She smiled, a first, “Why do you think you find comfort in the fact that it has to end?”

Mingi chuckled, “I don’t know. I think because I’m not ready to do anything more than microdose love. At least not yet. And I can also tell that this is going to set the standard for me going forward.” 

“But you’re still hesitating. Why?”

“I’m fucking scared. I’m half convinced I’m lying to myself about every justification I just gave you.” Mingi let his head tip back to the back of the couch, emotionally exhausted. 

“I think you’ve already made up your mind about it, though. And if you want my two cents, which, I’m assuming you do, I think it’s okay to be scared. It’s good to do scary things. Within limits, of course. But I think letting yourself be loved, even briefly, and although yes, very scary, it’s still a beautiful thing.” 

“I thought you would try to stop me.” Mingi raised an eyebrow at her. 

“I fear that only would have driven you towards it faster. Plus, it’s not my job to try to stop you. It’s my job to help you through it.” 

I’m going to fuck the hot priest.

December 24th

It had been a few days since he had heard too much from Yunho, at least outside of the few texts they sent back and forth each day. His therapist’s words rattled around in his head the whole time. He’d been doing a lot of letting himself be seen lately and it wasn’t the easiest, but at least he paid her for it. When it was Yunho, it felt raw, exhilarating. 

The bar was closed for Christmas - and it was still rather early in the morning - so Mingi was home, and very surprised when his phone buzzed. 

Father Daddy Yunho 

I have a very specific priest-related crisis that I need your help with, please

Me

An in-person emergency?

Father Daddy Yunho

Yes, please hurry. 

I’ll order coffee if you pick it up on your way over.

Did I mention pretty please? 

Me

Only because you asked so nicely. 

Mingi struggled to knock with two large coffees in his hand, but luckily, Yunho was antsy and had been waiting for his arrival. 

“Oh my god, my hero!” Yunho praised him as he entered, taking his coffee cup from Mingi. 

They hadn’t talked much about their activities the other night, but it didn’t really bother Mingi, mostly because Yunho hadn’t just completely ghosted him and had treated him as normal as things had ever been between the two of them in the days following. 

“What’s this emergency?” Mingi asked, making himself at home on the couch. 

Yunho blushed and Mingi had to restrain himself from launching himself at the man and kissing his rosy cheeks to make the blush even worse. “I’m way overthinking it, but I need help choosing which vestment and chasuble to wear for the Christmas Eve service tonight.” 

Mingi’s face lit up, “Fashion show!” He giggled, watching Yunho’s face crack open with a smile at his excitement. 

Yunho looked good in everything, and Mingi told the man as much as he showed him option after option while they drank their coffees and chatted about nothing. But the dark green robes with cream and gold accents were so lovely on him that Mingi declared them the winners. 

“For someone who claims to not be religious, you sure do seem nervous for tonight.” Mingi chided him lightheartedly. 

“I’m not religious.” Yunho looked at him seriously, his eyes seeming to search Mingi’s for some sign of understanding.

“And I’m still fascinated by that claim.” Mingi replied, settling into the couch, waiting for an explanation. 

Yunho crossed over and sat down next to Mingi on the couch, “I grew up hating everything about religion. Catholicism, in particular. I still am very critical of it. For me, being a priest is like a vegan who chooses to work in a slaughterhouse because they trust themselves to be more humane in the animal’s last moments than someone else would be. Sacrificing their morals in order to save them. If I weren’t in this position, someone else would be, and at least I can trust myself to not be the stereotype of a Catholic priest.”

Mingi considered this, “Well, don’t they say the last person who would ask for power is the first person who should be given it? I think that it’s admirable of you, Yunho.”

Yunho smiled, but his eyes still held something Mingi couldn’t quite put a finger on, “Thank you. That’s very kind of you to say. But in all honesty, Mingi, I don’t know what I would have done, don’t know what would have happened, had I not chosen this path. I…” He took a deep breath, finding Mingi’s eyes once again, “I have a very addictive personality, Mingi. This was the only way I felt like I could trust myself. And it’s worked, so far.”

“So far.” Mingi echoed him, studying every single square inch of his face, suddenly hit with the realization that he wouldn’t have forever with the man beside him to ever fully memorize it. Mourning what he had yet to lose. 

“You scare the shit out of me, Mingi.” Yunho confessed, hand finding Mingi’s own, thumb tracing softly over his knuckles. 

Mingi swallowed, feeling like he had just been hit with a truck at the confirmation that Yunho had it just as bad for him. He drew his hand back, “Maybe we…” He tried to blink back the tears he could feel pricking at the corners of his eyes, “I’m sorry, it’s all too much, I have to go. I’m sorry, Yunho.”

Yunho looked like a puppy who had just been kicked, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“No, it’s not your fault, I promise. I’m just- It’s just too much right now…”

“I understand.” Yunho cast his eyes down to the floor, “I’ll leave you alone, Mingi. I’m sorry.” 

Mingi turned and stood up, heading out the door without a backwards glance as his tears finally began to fall. 

December 30th

Mingi dreaded tonight. Rehearsal dinner. He was so excited and happy for Hongjoong and Seonghwa, of course. Happy to see his friends. But he knew Yunho would be there, and they hadn’t talked since Christmas. 

Mingi had gone to Christmas mass the next night. He watched from a pew at the very back as Yunho spoke, followed along the best he could to all the standing and kneeling and singing. He was mesmerized by all of it. Yunho was good at his job. He had made eye contact with Mingi from his spot at the pulpit, and his gaze said more than his words. He looked apologetic. Mingi realized he would never try to convince the man to leave the church for him. That was where he belonged. 

It didn’t help him stop yearning for him, though. In fact, it made it all the worse. 

Besides the night he had seen Yunho in his Spiderman pajamas, and his brief donning of Jongho’s hoodie, tonight was the first time Mingi had seen him in regular street clothes. 

A dark blue sweater that made his eyes look an even more rich chestnut brown, slacks and loafers. It was nothing crazy but still. 

Salt in the wound. Unable to stop the visions of the two of them together just living a normal life. Domestic bliss. A dream that would never be actualized. 

To make things even worse, Yunho seemed to be trying to spare him that night. Intentionally ignoring Mingi, avoiding eye contact.  

He left early, while Mingi was in the bathroom. 

Bastard. 

Mingi had manners and waited until everyone else was leaving, said proper goodbyes, Wooyoung and San keeping an eagle eye on him. 

“Everything okay, Mingi?” Wooyoung asked as he hugged him bye. 

Mingi sighed, “It’s kind of a long story.”

San smiled gently at him, “We’re all ears if you need to talk about it.” 

He looked between his two friends, reminding himself of the promise he had made, “I’m sort of in love with the priest.”

Wooyoung and San made identical shocked faces, the former snapping out of it to start barraging him with questions, “Are you guys together? You’re not going to make him lose his job, right? Is it mutual?!” 

Mingi groaned, “Ugh, no. We’re not together. It’s absolutely mutual. Not that either of us have said it. We both know how it will end. But we both want to do something about it. Like. Bad. Something besides the phone sex.” 

San high-fived him, “Hell yeah, nice.”

Wooyoung glowered at his boyfriend, “You both are such bros sometimes, it’s hard to remember you’re bisexual.” 

Mingi and San looked at each other and couldn’t help but laugh. Wooyoung rolled his eyes, “Mingi. I’m sure you’ve already made up your mind. And judging by the way he completely ignored you tonight, I’m sure Yunho is on the same page.”

“He’s right.” San nodded, “Just please, don’t take it too hard on the other side. And remember we’re here for you. Don’t you dare start isolating again when this inevitably ends like I’m sure you’re both well aware it will.” 

“I know.” Mingi sighed. As much as he knew that logically, there was only one way things between he and Yunho could end, there was still the smallest glimmer of delusional hope that reared its ugly head every single time the inexorable end was mentioned. “I promise, I won’t try to deal with the aftermath alone. You guys just have to promise you won’t hate me if I’m mopey and miserable for a little while.”

Wooyoung scoffed, “Mingi, we could never hate you. There’s no reality where you’re too much for us. I know we didn’t have the best way of showing it, but I promise you, we love you so much and we want to be there for you. Just like I know you want to be there for us.” 

“It’s what family is for.” San agreed. Mingi couldn’t help but feel his heart warm at his wording. Really, they were his family. He was finally starting to believe they always would be. 

“I love you guys.” Mingi admitted, hugging them tight before darting off towards the fate that awaited him at his favorite priest’s living quarters. 

“Good luck!” They called after him. 

Mingi arrived to the rectory out of breath and sweating under the layers he was wearing. 

It felt like an eternity after he knocked before the door swung open, revealing a red-nosed, puffy eyed Yunho.

“Mingi, you shouldn't be here.” Yunho couldn’t even look Mingi in the eye when he said it. 

“I’ll leave. If you actually want me to.” Mingi took a step closer, removing his coat and scarf, tossing them inside, all but demanding to be let it. 

Yunho sighed, moving out of the doorway, closing the door softly behind Mingi. Clicking the lock into place. 

“Are you finished ignoring me now?” Mingi asked, edging closer to Yunho's personal space. 

The priest finally leveled his eyes to Mingi’s, “I could never ignore you, Mingi.” He moved microscopically closer, the air between them sparking with electricity, “I was trying to make it easier on you. Given how you left the other day. I didn't want to push your boundaries.” 

Mingi leaned further in, “You scare the hell out of me, Yunho.” He quoted the man back to himself, “Yet here I am. I can't stay away. I've read the book. I know the end.”

Yunho’s eyelids fluttered as he reached forward, taking Mingi's hand in his own, bringing it up to his lips, kissing each knuckle slowly. 

“Like a lamb to slaughter.” Yunho whispered, his breath tickling the back of Mingi’s hand. 

“No,” Mingi gasped as Yunho worked his way up the inside of his forearm, “No, I feel like a lamb who trusts his shepherd. But neither of us can help that we're surrounded by wolves.” 

“Blind faith.” Yunho's voice was deep, unwavering. 

“Isn't that the only way to reach heaven?” Mingi asked. 

Yunho placed Mingi’s hand that he was still holding onto his chest. Mingi could feel his heart beat through the fabric of his sweater, perfectly in time with his own. The priest leaned in, lips barely whispering over Mingi’s as he spoke, “You'll let me take you there?” 

Mingi felt the desire for the man in front of him in every fiber of his being, “Please, Yunho.” 

Time stood still as Yunho pressed his lips to Mingi’s for the first time. They were soft and warm, reverent as they explored him. There was something desperate about how they slotted together, savoring each movement, neither of them in a rush, despite the knowledge that they were on borrowed time. 

Mingi felt like he had just jumped off a cliff. Free falling. Yunho would catch him, he knew. Even if it was brief. His feet would hit the ground hard, come morning. But tonight he would relish in the exhilaration. The head rush of lying prostrate at the feet of the man with whom he was in love, but would never have the privilege of loving. 

The kiss deepened, heads turning to the side for better access, bodies pressing together, desperate to feel, to touch. To worship. 

A soft moan escaped Mingi’s lips as Yunho guided his tongue inside to explore the other's mouth. Mapping it out, committing it to memory. Mingi's hands found purchase in the silky hair at the nape of Yunho's neck, fingernails scraping lightly at his scalp. He thought he might die at the noise that left the man’s mouth at his touch. It was almost too much. Mingi felt his head starting to swim and pulled back to catch his breath. 

He was caught off guard, though he shouldn't have been, at how beautiful Yunho looked with flushed cheeks and plump, parted lips, blood red and shiny with spit. 

“You okay?” Yunho asked gently, caressing Mingi’s face softly with his elegant hands. 

Mingi shivered at his feather light touch, “I just needed a second.” 

Yunho peered straight into his soul, a feeling with which Mingi was becoming familiar. “Come sit down.” He backed away, leading Mingi by his hand to the couch. 

Mingi sat, peering up at Yunho through his eyelashes, waiting for further instruction. 

Yunho dipped down and kissed him sweetly on his forehead, “You trust me?”

“Fully.” Mingi breathed. 

“I'll be right back.” Yunho stood, heading into his kitchen. 

Mingi heard the water running in the sink and couldn't help but be curious. 

Yunho arrived a few moments later with an intricately designed metal basin full of warm water, soap and a couple of towels in hand. Mingi was speechless. He could have giggled, been embarrassed, felt too shy or silly to continue. He would have, had it been anyone else kneeling in front of him. Yunho’s sweater was rolled up to his elbows and Mingi couldn’t help but study his forearms and hands as he placed the towel and water basin down in front of Mingi, light blue veins prominent on the backs of his lovely hands, beautifully landscaped under soft, flawless skin. 

Yunho reached forward and rolled Mingi’s pants legs up with deft fingers. He leaned forward as he lifted Mingi’s left leg, pausing with it in front of him, practically bowing down as he began kissing softly from his ankle up to his calf, his lips barely ghosting over Mingi’s skin. He released his foot into the water, which was the perfect temperature, before moving on to the next one. Mingi’s head tipped back and his eyes closed at the intimacy of it. But as he felt Yunho’s hands find his left foot once more, lifting it so he could wash it properly, he opened them to watch, not wanting to miss a moment of the man’s act. Yunho’s brow was ever so slightly furrowed in concentration as he massaged Mingi’s feet with soapy hands. He was so beautiful, a face to match the quality of his heart. Mingi’s own heart ached, and he let it. Determined to be present for every emotion that overcame him, at least this once. Just this one night. 

Being worshipped. It was the most mind-bending experience of Mingi’s life. Feeling both worthy yet completely undeserving of it simultaneously. A miracle that someone would display such devotion to him. A miracle that he would let himself allow it. Jeong Yunho, a miracle. 

Yunho lifted Mingi’s feet out of the water as he finished, moving the basin over so he could dry them off. 

“Thank you.” Yunho whispered, leaning forward to kiss the inside of Mingi’s knee, resting his head there for a second as he fixed his gaze on Mingi’s face. 

“I should be thanking you.” Mingi blinked, shocked that he was the one being thanked, “Can I wash yours as well?”

Yunho shook his head, “No, Mingi. Thank you. But let me take care of you tonight. Please.” He stood up, pulling Mingi to his feet as well, “Can you do that for me, jagiya?” He touched Mingi’s cheek, and Mingi felt himself lean into it. 

“Yes. I want that, Yunho.” Mingi met his eye, “Please.” He let the word hover in the air.

Yunho smiled, “Follow me.” 

Mingi was led to a part of the rectory he had never seen before. A small, cozy bedroom in the hallway behind the kitchen. The bedroom was exactly what one might picture a bedroom in a Catholic church to look like. Mingi highly doubted Yunho had chosen much of the decor, certainly not the four-poster bed. Yunho led him over, stopping at the side of the bed to pull Mingi in for another kiss, his hands reaching up to start unbuttoning Mingi’s dress shirt, then followed with his own sweater. Mingi gaped at the priest’s body, looking like it could just as easily be carved from marble as it could be skin. But unlike a statue, he was soft and warm to the touch. They couldn’t stop their hands from skimming over one another’s bodies, touching everywhere that they could reach.

Yunho revered his body, fingertips lightly skimming over his hips working upwards, back to Mingi’s face, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. 

Yunho broke the kiss long enough to asess Mingi’s body, “Oh, angel, you’re so beautiful.” He reached down to begin unbuckling Mingi’s belt, “I need to see all of you.”

Mingi opened his mouth to reply but his brain went blank as Yunho guided his pants off and returned, fingers lightly grazing Mingi’s cock, which was quickly filling with blood at his touch. He whimpered as his boxers were pulled off and he was finally free, no more uncomfortable tightness. 

“You’re so lovely.” He leaned in, kissing across Mingi’s jaw, causing him to have to latch on to Yunho’s hips with his hands for balance, breath sucked out of his lungs at Yunho’s attention, “So reactive.” Yunho smiled into Mingi’s neck, then pulled back to work his own pants and underwear off. Mingi would have tried to get them off sooner, but Yunho had requested he be the one to do the caretaking, and for once in his life, Mingi wanted to do exactly as he was told. 

Yunho walked him back a couple of steps until the backs of his knees hit the edge of the bed, “Why don’t you lay down, Mingi? Get comfortable.”

Mingi situated himself in the middle of the bed, head on the pillows, propped up enough to where he didn’t have to strain his neck to watch whatever Yunho planned to do to him. 

Yunho placed lube and condoms within reach on the bed, then crawled in between Mingi’s legs, lifting his feet one at a time and placing the soles down flat on the mattress before slowly starting to kiss up the inside of his legs once more, nipping and marking him occasionally as he went. Mingi felt his dick hit his stomach, now painfully hard. Yunho pulled his lips off a particularly tender spot on his inner thigh, soothing the mark he had made with his tongue before leaning forward, hovering over Mingi to kiss him again, wrapping his long fingers around the other’s wrists, pinning his arms up by his head as he began kissing his way down his neck, then chest, lips landing on Mingi’s erect nipple, pulling it into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue before letting go and moving to the next one. Mingi gasped at the sensation. 

Yunho laughed sweetly into his skin, lips popping off of his nipple as he spoke, “So sensitive, baby. I love it. Wanna hear you keep making those pretty noises for me.”

“Yes, sir.” Mingi whined, “I will.” 

“Such a good boy.” Yunho praised as he sat up to apply lube to his fingers. “Mmh, god, look at you. I want to devour you.” His eyes were on Mingi’s cock when he said it, but it was still a surprise when he leaned down to lick a stripe up the underside of Mingi’s throbbing dick, flicking his tongue as he reached the tender underside of the head.

Mingi whimpered, “Fuck, please, Yunho.”

“Shh,” Yunho quieted him, “There’s no rush, darling. I want to make you feel so good.” His finger started tracing circles around Mingi’s rim, “You still trust me to do that, right?”

“God-” Mingi gasped as Yunho’s tongue found the tip of his cock again, “Fuck. Yes, sir. I trust you.”

“Good,” Yunho’s finger began applying pressure, slipping inside as Mingi relaxed, “I’m so glad.”

Mingi was right to have admired Yunho’s hands. His fingers were incredible, long with prominent knuckles, reaching deep inside of Mingi, the sensation almost being too much to handle. As Yunho worked his second finger inside, his mouth found the head of Mingi’s leaking cock once again, taking it inside, moaning at how Mingi filled him up. Both men were large. Mingi was glad for Yunho’s fingers after seeing just how stuffed full of Yunho he would be very soon. Yunho’s fingers found Mingi’s prostate, applying pressure there in time with the bobbing of his head as he sucked Mingi’s cock down, acting more protestant than priest in that moment. 

“Yunho, ‘m gonna cum if you keep doing that!” Mingi warned as his hips bucked in response to the attention Yunho was giving him. 

Yunho pulled off, the release of his mouth off of Mingi’s dick making a faint pop noise, “Well, we can’t have that yet, can we?” He added a third finger, scissoring them open to ensure Mingi was fully prepped to take him. 

“No, please, not yet. Want you inside.” Mingi almost felt panicked at the idea of cumming without Yunho buried deep inside of him. 

Yunho smiled, reaching for the condom, “As you wish.” 

“Wait,” Mingi stopped Yunho as he tried to rip the packet open, “I’m clean, I swear. Can I please take you raw?”

Yunho growled, “Fuck, Mingi, you must be trying to kill me.” But despite his words, he tossed the condom to the side and reached for the lube instead, “I’d love to, honey.” 

Yunho lined himself up, leaning down to kiss Mingi again before he began his slow venture inside.

It was unlike any feeling Mingi had ever had in his life. Completely at Yunho’s mercy. Surrendering himself. The sensation of being filled, split in half, washed over him, tears spilling out of the corners of his eyes as Yunho finally, decadently, buried himself to the hilt. “God, Mingi, you took me so well, darling.” He kissed the tears off of Mingi’s cheeks, “Still doing okay?”

“I’m perfect.” Mingi sighed, overwhelmed at how content he felt as he was speared within an inch of his life. 

“I think that might actually be true.” Yunho muttered, “You feel like you were made for me. Can I move now?”

“Yes, god, please move, Yunho.” Mingi begged. 

The first pump of his hips and Mingi saw stars. He savored every sensation, Yunho’s cock gliding in and out, reaching the depths of Mingi’s insides. 

Mingi canted his hips so they met Yunho’s motion in the middle, their bodies slamming together, becoming desperate in their pursuit of release. 

“Fuck, Mingi-” Yunho gasped as he fucked into him harder, motion still slow and languid, his talented fingers wrapping around Mingi’s desperate cock, stroking him in time with his hips. “Feel so good. Sucking me in like that.”

“Yunho-” Mingi moaned, lost in the sensation, “God, Yunho-yah.”

“Mmh, that’s right. Say my name, baby. I love hearing it.” Yunho’s pace quickened, highlighting his point. 

“Yunho, please,” Mingi babbled, completely cockdrunk, “Want you to fill me up. Please, Yunho-”

“Oh I will, sweetheart.” Yunho grunted, adjusting Mingi’s hips ever so slightly, getting the angle just right, “You have to cum with me though. Can you do that?”

“Yes, fuck, yes, Yunho, please.” Mingi’s voice was weak, demonstrating exactly how deprived he felt. 

“So close-” Yunho pumped his hips a few more times, harder than ever, his pace faltering, before he finally let go, “Fuck, Mingi-” 

Mingi was nothing if not obedient, crying out as he released over Yunho’s hand and his own stomach. 

Yunho slumped over Mingi as he came down, pulling out slowly before falling to the bed beside him. Mingi reached out hesitantly, not knowing exactly why he was feeling shy after having the man deep inside of him just seconds ago. Yunho smiled, sensing Mingi’s caution, wrapping his arms around him and tucking him snugly to his chest. 

“Mingi, you can touch me, honey. Come here.” He kissed Mingi’s temple, “You were amazing, baby. So perfect for me.” 

“Yeah?” Mingi asked softly, feeling a little raw after that experience. 

“Yes, angel. Was it okay? I wasn’t too rough?” Yunho asked, his voice pitching up with concern for Mingi’s well-being. 

“No, it was wonderful.” Mingi sighed, “Incredible.”

“Good.” Yunho tilted his chin up to kiss him again, “Thank you.”

“For what?” Mingi asked, not understanding. 

Yunho tucked Mingi’s head under his chin, stroking his hair, “Just… thank you. For everything. For coming into my life. For letting me into yours.” 

“I would do it all over again, Yunho. Every single time.” Mingi confessed, surprising himself with his candor. 

“Me, too, Mingi.” Yunho kissed the crown of his head, “In every lifetime.” 

They showered together afterwards, taking any last opportunity to touch one another freely, knowing their time together was ticking away faster than either of them would like, or care to admit. They didn’t acknowledge it, not outright. But it was understood by both of them that it was best to not worry about it before it happened. 

Back in bed together, limbs tangled, breath soft on one another’s skin as they relaxed into the embrace, Mingi couldn’t help but breach the silent contract they had made.

“Yunho?” He dared to whisper. 

"Hm?"

“That story about Lot’s wife and how she was told not to look back as she left Sodom and Gomorrah, lest she be turned into a pillar of salt?” 

Yunho nodded, “What about it?”

“I keep thinking about it. I already know I’m going to look, too. I won’t be able to help it, Yunho.” He drew the priest closer to himself, though it was nearly impossible to do so, considering how tightly they were clinging to one another already.

Yunho traced soft, comforting patterns over Mingi’s back, “I know, Mingi. I won’t either.”

Neither of them dared to elaborate further before letting themselves fall asleep. They didn’t need to. They understood each other perfectly as it was. 

December 31st

It was a beautiful wedding. Mingi let himself be pulled into the joy of it all that day, concentrating on anything that offered itself up. Anything to take his mind off of the fact that this was the last time he would see Yunho. Hard to do when he was the star of the show during the ceremony. He looked beautiful up there, at the flower adorned pulpit, wearing the same dark green robes as he had worn for Christmas, this time with a slightly different chasuble, this one embroidered with wildflowers in every color. A subtle hint to a rainbow, if Mingi had to guess. Sweet of him, really. 

“When I first met Hongjoong and Seonghwa, heard the story of how they met, how their love developed and turned into what it is today, I knew that the tired Bible verses everyone uses for weddings wouldn’t be suitable. ‘Love is patient, love is kind…’ and yes, don’t get me wrong. This couple demonstrates great patience and kindness to one another. But love is also vulnerable. It’s terrifying. It’s not only a feeling, but also a verb. As you fall deeper into it, you start to build a contract with one another. Committing to act on that love again and again, circumstances be damned. Love isn’t something weak people do.” Yunho’s eyes found Mingi’s in the front row pew at that sentence. “Life may get hard, but the love itself has to come easily. And after spending time with the couple here in front of me today, I can say without a shadow of a doubt, that these two are built for it.” 

Yeosang looked up at Mingi from his position beside him, seeing the tears roll freely down his face, grabbing his hand and giving it a squeeze before lacing his fingers into Mingi’s own. Mingi knew he understood. Wooyoung and San are bad at keeping secrets. But he was okay with the fact that his friends knew. Happy for it, even. He would be needing them. 

“I’ve seen it in the little things, like how Seonghwa makes sure that Hongjoong has eaten. Or how Hongjoong makes Seonghwa laugh with only a certain look in his eye. But it’s also in the big things. Through life events that easily could have torn them apart. They weathered the storms and came out on the other side stronger. These two here before me today are some of the most brave and courageous people I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. I’m beyond happy to declare them husbands.” 

Cheers and applause echoed off the stone walls of the church, Mingi’s amongst them. 

Mingi stepped outside of the reception, pulling his coat around his shoulders as he leaned against the wall of the building. He hadn’t told his friends he needed some air this time, but that was because he knew someone else would follow him outside. 

Yunho’s weight settled against his shoulder as he joined him against the wall. 

“You’ve really found your calling, Yunho.” Mingi complimented him. 

Yunho chuckled, “Feels more like a curse than a calling at this very moment.”

Mingi turned his head to look at the priest’s stunning profile, committing it to memory. “No, don’t think of it like that. I’m sure we’ve done this before, in a different life. I’m sure we’ll do it again in another one. Hopefully, the next.”

Yunho smiled, turning his head to meet Mingi’s gaze, “Let’s agree now to just both be accountants or something in the next one.”

Mingi laughed despite himself, fighting the urge to sink his claws into Yunho and never let go. Reach in and pluck his own rib out to breathe life into something that never had a chance in the first place. “Deal.” Mingi blinked back tears, “I love you, Yunho. For whatever it’s worth.”

“I-” 

“No.” Mingi cut him off, “Let’s just sit with that for a second. I love you.” 

The moment felt exactly like midnight in the early winter, on a night where you could tell it was going to snow. Quiet. Crisp. Still. The anticipation building slowly. 

“I love you.” Mingi repeated a third time after the moment passed.

Yunho reached up, wiping the tear that had escaped off of Mingi’s cheekbone, “It’ll pass.”

“Are you sure I can’t just shrink myself down and live inside your heart? So we could be together?” Mingi scrambled at the last minute, searching for ways to prolong this inevitable moment. 

Yunho’s eyes watered at his words, “You already do live there, Mingi. You have since I first laid eyes on you.” He pushed off the brick wall to stand in front of Mingi, letting his hand fall down to grab Mingi’s, pulling it up to kiss his knuckles once more, “I love you, too.” He dropped Mingi’s hand. “Until our next life, then.” He turned away, seeming to walk in slow motion. Mingi turned, too, walking back towards the door inside. 

He turned back.

Yunho had looked back over his shoulder. 

They held each other’s gaze for one last moment before turning once more and going their separate ways. 

Neither of them turned into pillars of salt.

[hongcherry]

pretty please (stay with me) || c.sc | 1

"After being assigned a fashion show for your big senior project, you set off to find volunteers to make it successful. However, when you meet Choi Seungcheol and his unfriendly clique through your volunteers, you realize they’re an unwanted package deal you can’t escape from. Can you handle Seungcheol's obnoxious friends, and can he handle your brash behavior?"

🍒 Pairing: businessMajor!Seungcheol x fashionMajor!Reader (f)

🍒 Rating/Genres/AUs: M(18+); Slice of life (!!!), slow burn, drama, fluff, angst; Unrequited enemies to lovers (lol), strangers to lovers, college au

🍒 Warnings: [general tw (won't be repeated in the other chapters)] reader has she/her pronouns (referred to as girl, miss), reader dresses really feminine, reader is not nice, character outfit descriptors, parent/family issues (marital problems), bullying | [chapter tw] “joke” that implies prostitution in a negative way, near car accident (rear end), brief mention of death thru a joke

🍒 WC: 14.8k

🍒 Betas: Huge shout out to my bae, @love-strike, for being with me throughout this whole process, for listening to me whine, for helping me brainstorm majors for OT13, and for being so supportive! tysm 😭 And thank you to @playmetheclassics, @here4kpopfics, @angelwoozi for also beta'ing this series! ty for your time and for your sweet feedback! i really cherish everyone's efforts and brains hehe 🥰💖 i understand this was not an easy task to take on.

🍒 Author's Note: HAPPIEST BIRTHDAY TO THE LOML, CHOI SEUNGCHEOL!!!!!!!!! 🎂♥️ I started this fic in September 2022 and contemplated even publishing it multiple times. I think this will be the first fic I've worked on for so long and published. Also, this is the longest fic I've ever written, so that's exciting! It was supposed to be one long one-shot, but I ended up writing way too much for a one-shot LOL. I'm really proud of myself for powering through and not abandoning it, as I've done in the past. I also wrote this all in past tense and spontaneously decided to change it to present 😪 Anyway, please enjoy the start of this couple's journey 😁

also read here: AO3 | Wattpad

seventeen masterlist | main masterlist

previous chapter \\ series masterpost // next chapter

When people say good students are those who arrive on time, you find it hard not to scoff. Professors should care more about how hard-working one is rather than if they show up on the dot.

Of course, you do try to make it on time, but can you really leave your house looking less than perfect? Absolutely not. Plus, the first fifteen minutes usually consist of professors getting set up for their classes, so you don’t feel like you are missing anything of importance.

Today is no different.

Ten minutes past the official class time, you stroll inside the room. Students are seated where they normally sit, some are on their phones, and others are trying to finish some last-minute homework assignments. It’s a fairly small class, and being in your senior year means everyone knows each other well. Although, most of the people in your class think ill of you and don’t talk to you.

At first, you thought it was a pity, but in the end, you realized you didn’t want to befriend those who would only talk shit behind your back. This is what you figured they did since they were never discreet when they exchanged whispers with their eyes glued to you. 

Luckily, you have at least one friend in the class. Quality over quantity, right?

“Right on time,” your friend, Dae, says with a sly smile when she spots you.

You chuckle and slide into the seat next to her. “Class started fifteen minutes ago.”

“It did, but you’re right on time for you,” she explains with a knowing grin.

“Guess I need to be more late from now on,” you tease as you take out your iPad.

The device is a holy grail to you. Majoring in fashion design means all your ideas and creations over the past few years are stored there. When you don’t have it, it’s stored in secret in your house. Maybe that’s a little excessive, but losing it would feel like losing a part of yourself. After all, art creations always include a part of the creator. The device almost feels like it’s an extension of yourself—something too personal for others to peek at.

Dae rolls her eyes. “Or you could come on time. That would be different.”

“Why would I? The first fifteen minutes are worthless,” you huff and open your notes.

“I wouldn’t quite say that,” Dae answers, sliding a piece of paper over. You glance down at it.

Prepare for the annual Senior Fashion Show! Students are to create their own fashion show with a theme of their choice. The show will be toward the end of the semester in the Main Theatre (official times and dates TBD). The project will count for 80% of your grade as this will require you to use all the skills you’ve acquired as a student. When creating your show, be sure to be mindful of the following…

“This was handed out at the beginning of class. Seems like we’re going to have to work with students from outside our department,” Dae comments after she gives you a few minutes to read everything.

So, this is it.

Every senior majoring in fashion design is required to participate. You attended every fashion show hosted during your time as a student here. You were always left in awe, motivated to be a student that would leave behind a name for themselves at the college. You want to inspire the next seniors just as the ones inspired you before.

While this assignment has your body giddy with excitement, there is a part you are dreading.

People skills are not your forte.

Not because you feel awkward talking to new people, but because the conversations always end unpleasantly. Sometimes with back-handed compliments, insults, or them trying to scold you. You hope that won’t be the case while recruiting volunteers.

“So, do we have the class period to start getting things together?” you question once you finish skimming through the instructions again. You’re responsible for a lot more elements than you anticipated. You need lighting, music, a theme, backstage helpers, hair and makeup artists, an advertiser, and most importantly, models. This is when you wish you had a large network. Though, every friend you tried to make didn’t end up lasting. Dae is the only person who has stuck by your side.

“Yup,” she replies. “We’ll be doing mini assignments throughout the semester to help us prepare. I think it’s just a way for Dr. Lim to give us grades so he doesn’t get in trouble.”

“Probably,” you sigh. You are already feeling stressed. Quickly, you scribble down a list of to-do’s in your notes.

“Do you have a theme in mind already?” Dae asks after a moment.

“No, do you?” you wonder.

Dae sits back in her chair, pen resting between her fingers. “I was thinking about something with space? Maybe my main colors will be blue, purple, and black.”

“Oh? Isn’t that what you’ve been doing, though? Don’t you want to try something different?”

Although the question is harmless, the tone of your voice must have rubbed Dae the wrong way. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and then looks at you again.

“Think of it as branding, okay? Why does it bother you so much?” she wonders with a frown. Realizing your mistake, you inhale slowly.

“It doesn’t. I didn’t mean to sound rude. I’m sure your stage will do well,” you reply, forcing a small smile on your lips.

“No ‘sorry’?” Dae asks despite knowing it isn’t part of your favorite vocabulary.

You narrow your eyes at her. “Nope. Just don’t be so defensive next time.”

“You’re insufferable,” Dae answers. “One day, you will be sorry for your behavior.”

Shrugging, you say, “There’s always a chance, but maybe if the world wasn’t so insecure, saying sorry wouldn’t be so wanted.”

Dae exhales disapprovingly at your thought process, displeased with your reply. “Well, for now, maybe try to be more empathetic?”

“I have bigger things to worry about right now. For instance,” you start, a finger at the top of your to-do list, “I’ve got to find someone who can provide me with music.”

Fuck, it’s too loud in here.

The sounds of different instruments being played at once, all emitting different tunes, have a migraine bubbling in your head.

You make a beeline to the professor who is sitting in the corner. She is an older lady, evident by her wrinkles and gray hair. Yet, her features are soft, and the smile she gives you makes you feel at ease.

“Hello, miss, can I assist you?” she asks when you’re in hearing range.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt, but I was hoping you could help me with an assignment?” you wonder and offer her a kind smile, hoping she won’t shoo you away immediately.

“Ah, it’s alright. They’re just practicing for an upcoming assignment today. What is it you need, dear?”

“Who would you consider your best student? Is there a way you can get me in contact with them?”

The professor’s eyes widen slightly at the question. She didn’t expect that. Nevertheless, her gaze rises to scan the classroom.

“There,” she points as discreetly as she can. You follow her finger, which lands on a blonde-haired guy tuning his guitar. “Lee Jihoon. He’s the most talented student I’ve ever had.”

“This semester?” you ask out of curiosity.

The professor shakes her head. “Ever.”

You can’t stop the small disbelieving huff that escapes you. The best student ever? You aren’t sure how long she’s been teaching, but you doubt out of all her time, he is the best. He looks too young.

“Now, now, don’t judge a book by its cover,” she scolds gently. You have to force yourself not to roll your eyes at the phrase. You’ve heard it too many times that its meaning lost its effect on you.

“What makes him your best student?” you question, sight going back to the man who is oblivious to your stare. He sits next to another student who also has a guitar. They seem to be friends from the way they are laughing together.

“His work is versatile and very good. I’m positive he will be the perfect person for your project.” The way she speaks about him makes you believe her. There was no waver to her voice, and her eyes hold a fondness in them you know one can’t replicate if not genuine.

“How long until they have their assignment due?” you wonder, realizing you may have to wait until the class ends before you could talk to him.

The professor smiles. “I’ll let them have five more minutes so you can introduce yourself.”

Internally, you sigh in relief. You’re grateful you don’t have to wait.

“Thank you,” you say before strolling to the man.

As you near, his friend glances up. He’s mid-sentence when he spots you, eyes growing slightly at the sight of you. You’re used to getting looks like that. Your fashion is always dressier than the average college student's. People just aren’t used to it.

“Hi,” the brunette friend says. He has prince-like features, and you almost consider asking him to be one of your models. You give him a small grin out of politeness before turning to the whole reason you came over.

“Lee Jihoon?” you ask.

Jihoon’s mouth parts slightly in surprise. “Uh, y-yeah. Do I know you?”

“No. My name’s Yn. I have a project in a class and need someone to provide music for me. You won’t get paid, but any extra experience is always good, right?” you greet, not wanting to dance around the subject. After all, this is only the first of many on your to-do list.

“What major are you in?” he wonders, brows knitted in confusion.

“Fashion design,” you answer.

Jihoon is silent for a moment. “And how did you find me?”

This guy is more difficult than you wished. You just need him to say yes.

“I asked for the best student, and you were recommended. So, what do you say? Will you help me?”

Jihoon gives you a small smile, but something about it rubs you wrong. “Sorry, my plate is a little full right now—”

“Do you need money? I can give you some afterward.”

You try not to sound desperate. Lee Jihoon is not the only music major—this is obvious by the amount of noise you hear in the background.

But you never settle for less than the best.

You have been looking forward to this project since your college tour here. 

“It’s not that,” Jihoon chuckles awkwardly. “I have other assignments I have to practice for, but I’m sure there will be someone else to help you. There’s a lot of talented students her—”

“But they’re not the best,” you interrupt. What else can you offer him that will make him say yes?

“Well, being the best is subjective,” Jihoon counters, voice light so you know he doesn’t mean it rudely.

You open your mouth to bargain with him more, but his friend leans into his ear. The noise from the other instruments behind you makes it hard to hear what they are saying.

Patience is something you rarely have. The longer you stand there waiting, the more annoyed you get.

“Look, you have almost a full semester to get a song done by then. I’m sure you can find some tim—”

“Fine,” Jihoon grumbles as he shoves his friend away. “I’ll do it.”

“Oh,” you pause. You are fully prepared to go down the mental list of how helping you will help him in return. One that will be complete bullshit, but if it gets him to say yes, then so be it. Luckily, you don’t have to. 

“Great!” you say.

You aren’t going to give him time to back out, so you quickly retrieve a business card you had made from your purse. It’s easier to exchange contact information, and you never know when you may run into someone important. Being in an artistic field means competition. You always need to have an eye out for something, or someone, that will help you get your name out there.

“Here’s my number. Please contact me before the day ends.”

Jihoon takes the card and examines it. “Got it. What kind of music will you need?”

“I’m not sure yet, but I’ll let you know,” you reply. He nods in response.

“I look forward to hearing your music. I’ll talk to you later then,” you say.

You have half a heart to wish them both luck on their assignment, but part of you is a little petty that Jihoon put you through some trouble. Instead, you give them a wave before turning on your heel.

As you’re leaving, you hear a loud sigh followed by a laugh from behind you. 

“Shut up, Shua,” Jihoon groans before the professor calls everyone’s attention.

Music, check. Now, what’s next?

As you make your way down the hallway, you stumble across Dae. She is surrounded by two other male students, none of whom you know. You don’t plan to greet her since she seems busy, but the sound of your heels clicking against the tile catches her attention.

“Yn!” she calls out cheerfully.

You halt in your tracks, turning to see her smiling at you. She gestures for you to come over, so you do.

“Hey,” you say to her.

“How’s your project going?” she asks.

“I got someone to help me with music,” you reply, then glance behind her to see the two guys staring at you. Dae follows your gaze and makes a small “oh!”

“Is that all? Do you have anyone for advertising or graphics?” Dae wonders, her voice seemingly excited.

“I don’t,” you answer hesitantly. Her eagerness has you worried.

“Perfect!” she exclaims, then turns to the others. “This is Yejun and Jeonghan. They’re both advertising majors. Yejun agreed to help me with my project, but Jeonghan,” she pauses to address the man. He has blonde hair that goes past his eyes. His soft features are handsome and almost angelic. 

“Jeonghan, would you mind helping my friend with hers? She’s super talented.”

Jeonghan glances at you, but before he can say anything, you ask him, “What are your skills? Do you have some work I could see first?”

Jeonghan looks taken aback. “O-oh, I don’t have a portfolio yet, sorry.”

“Ah, that’s fine,” you say before looking at Dae. “Thanks for trying to help me, but I’ll find someone else.”

Dae’s eyes narrow at you. “Come on, Yn. Jeonghan is really good!”

“Didn’t you just meet him?” you question and try to stop the scoff that threatens to escape.

“Well, yes, but Yejun has been my friend for a while, and I’ve seen his work. Yejun and Jeonghan have worked together as well, and their creations are unique!”

You inhale deeply, eyes roaming from your friend to Jeonghan. He offers you a smile.

“What your friend said,” Jeonghan replies with a small chuckle.

“Trust me on this,” Dae says. “Jeonghan won’t disappoint you.”

You don’t feel at ease agreeing to someone blindly. Dae’s definition of “really good” could be different from yours. Although her work is good, you feel your standards are way above hers. You had planned to ask for the best student for each assigned task, so having been offered a random helper with no proof of their credentials is unnerving. 

Granted, you haven’t heard Jihoon’s work, but you were sold on the way the professor spoke about him. Dae, on the other hand, is not a professor and could be biased as Yejun is her friend. Though, you still have a lot more positions to fill, and you need to do so soon.

Sighing, “Fine. You can work with me.”

From the way you word your sentence, it’s almost as if Jeonghan is supposed to jump up and down with glee. He doesn’t.

You grab another business card from your purse and hand it to Jeonghan. He takes it slowly.

“Just so you know, I have the right to replace you with someone else if I see your work isn’t fit,” you warn as Jeonghan slips the card into his pocket.

His eyes lock on yours. “That won’t be necessary,” he answers, not bothered by your comment.

“Oh?” you wonder and quirk an eyebrow up.

“Hm. You also need graphics, right? I have a person for that as well,” Jeonghan says.

“I haven’t seen their work yet—”

“You’re not very trusting, huh?” Jeonghan observes with a laugh. You shift your weight on one hip, not liking the way he is trying to tell you about your personality when he doesn't know you.

“I just know what I want, and I won’t settle,” you answer sharply.

Dae huffs next to you and gives you a gentle shove, indicating you to ease up. That isn’t going to happen.

Jeonghan doesn’t reply and instead takes out his phone. His fingers dance around the screen for a minute before he turns the device for you to see. On the screen is an Instagram account with various posts of different art and graphic pieces. Your eyes drift to the username. by_xuminghao_o. His art is impressive and definitely not an amateur like you half expected.

“So, about not settling,” Jeonghan trails off, a hint of a cocky smirk on his lips.

“I expect you both to contact me before the day ends,” is all you respond with.

Jeonghan pockets his phone and nods. He seems content with your answer even though you don’t confess the art meets your standards.

“All good then?” Dae asks, glancing between you two.

“We’re good,” Jeonghan replies and gives you another smile of his—one you are starting to hate seeing. There is just something about it that seems like he knows more things than you in a cocky, condescending way.

Yejun glances at his watch and then nudges Jeonghan.

“Thanks, ladies, but we have a class to attend. Nice to meet you, Yn,” Yejun says.

You hum in response while turning away from them. Dae says her goodbyes, watching as they leave before putting her focus on you.

“Do you have to be so picky?” she sighs.

“As I said, I know what I want. I’ve waited to do this project for years. It has to be perfect,” you explain and pull out your iPad. You check off music and advertising from your to-do list. Graphics aren’t listed, but you figure it will be a nice addition.

“I understand, but—”

“Just focus on your project, and I’ll focus on mine, okay?” you interrupt. You don’t feel like hearing her lecture you for a second time today.

“Alright,” Dae answers. “I’ll see you around,” she says, walking away before you can say anything else.

With her back turned, you roll your eyes at her attitude. It has your mood lowering, and you conclude you’re done with human interaction for now. You carefully place your iPad back in your bag, then make a beeline to the parking lot, ready to go home to figure out a theme for your show.

Home is somewhere you don’t enjoy being.

It always has this melancholy cloud looming over you. You can never seem to get rid of it completely. Even on the good days, it lingers in the corner of the room, always threatening to float above you. You doubt it will ever dissipate.

Your back is against the headboard of your bed, your iPad resting against your legs that are pulled to your chest. The music playing is too low for your liking, but you know if it’s any louder, your father will scold you for the high volume. Sometimes you will raise it just to get him to talk to you. Though today is not one of those days. You want to be left alone for once, which isn't usually too hard to do unless your sister needs attention. Like now.

“Today is the last day. Pleaseeee, Yn!” your sister whines at the foot of your bed. Her small body is bouncing with desperation and eagerness.

Reluctantly, you flicker your gaze up at her. The slight scowl on your face doesn’t seem to faze her… Probably because she’s seen it so much.

“Can’t you see I’m busy?” you exasperate, gesturing to your iPad.

Seoah frowns. “When are you not? Come on! It’ll take, like, ten minutes. I’ve been looking forward to getting a Fallin’ Flower frap for months! You know it’s a seasonal drink.”

“Didn’t Dad say you couldn’t have any more sweets?” you say and peer down at your iPad again. You’re in the middle of brainstorming themes for your show. There are various words within bubbles, each connected with a line.

“I’ll just get a small,” she explains. When you don’t move, she walks around the bed to stand next to you. Her voice becomes softer, sadder. “You said you would take me. Dad can’t.”

“That was before I got assigned this project. It’s my—”

“Senior project that you’ve been looking forward to since your freshman year, yeah, I got it,” she responds, reciting what you’ve told her before.

You finally look at her once more. “I’ll take you for the next seasonal drinks, okay? They’re probably better anyway.”

“But I really want a Fallin’ Flower,” Seoah pouts.

“Next year,” you offer and return your attention to your homework.

“Yn—”

“Next year,” you repeat firmly without looking up.

Seoah pauses in her begging. You think she’s going to continue, but you hear the soft padding of her feet as she moves.

“Oh, Seoah?” you call out, glancing up.

She pauses by your door and looks up with some hope in her eyes.

“Don’t forget to shut the door all the way.”

“Right,” she mutters slowly, then leaves the room. You wait until you hear the door click close prior to getting back to work.

You sit on your bed the remainder of the day, only getting up to cook dinner for your father and sister. Your eyes feel strained and your body weak, but the sooner you pick a theme, the sooner you can get started. 

It’s days like these when your body is mentally and physically exhausted, that you miss your mom. You try not to think too much about her as it only makes the gloomy cloud above your head darker. 

Is she happier? Surely, she is. She is living her dream as a traveling journalist. Sometimes you will see her adventures if you peep at her social media. It’s self-torture to do so, but curiosity gets the best of you. You hope one day you’ll have the willpower to block all her accounts. 

At this point, you’re having the same conversation you have with yourself once a month. It never ends the way you want.

Inhaling deeply, you finish plating all the food before calling your family for dinner. While your father eats in his office, needing to continue his work, you and your sister eat in silence in the dining room.

Maybe one day things will change, but for now, you’ll have to settle with this.

You are about to knock on the door a second time when no one answers it. You have allotted only an hour for this meeting, so the longer you wait outside, the more you grow impatient. You have set mini-deadlines throughout the semester to ensure you will complete this assignment in a timely manner. You just hope your recruitees aren't going to slow you down.

Suddenly, the door is yanked open. Jeonghan stands on the other side, hair a little damp and a few wet spots on his shirt.

“Sorry about that,” he says hastily. “I thought I could shower quicker.”

“I told you eleven o’clock,” you scold. Jeonghan simply smiles.

“Never hurts to give people some wiggle room. Plus, aren’t you the early one?” Jeonghan leans back to view something. He looks at you after a few seconds. “It’s only three minutes past.”

“Early is on time,” you say as if that is an obvious life choice. Although you’re never really on time for classes, you reason that to be because the first fifteen minutes are a waste of time. This, on the other hand, is not. “Invite me in?”

Jeonghan moves aside and lets you enter. His apartment is tidy for the most part. It seems as if he had started to clean up but gave up toward the end.

“Where’s Minghao?” you wonder when you saw you were the only one here. He’s supposed to be here with Jeonghan, so you can all go over the advertising designs.

“He called and said he hit some traffic. Have a seat anywhere; I’m going to grab my laptop,” he instructs before jogging to another room. Shaking your head in disappointment, you glance around again.

Spotting his couch, you walk over and make yourself comfortable. You take out your iPad and open what you have so far—color ideas, font ideas, and a few mock-up fashion designs. It has been two weeks since you last saw Jeonghan. The majority of your tasks have already been assigned to people, but you still have to find a few more models.

“Alright, so, what’s the theme?” Jeonghan asks when he comes back. He sits down next to you, causing you to bounce slightly from his weight.

You angle your screen, so he can see it easier. “I decided on the four elements—water, ice, air, and earth. The title right now is Pinwheel.”

“This gives us multiple color options,” Jeonghan examines. “Maybe we could have five designs. One for each element and then one with all of them? That would give you a variety of exposure and make the audience feel they’re not looking at the same promo material every time.”

You sit still as you ponder his suggestion. “You don’t think people will get confused seeing different designs?”

“We can make it all tie in some way. You have your own logo, as I saw on your card. We can use that and the same fonts.”

“Okay,” you say slowly. “That sounds—”

A knock on the door stops you.

“Ah, that must be Minghao. Do you mind getting that? I’m going to get my notepad, so I can try to sketch some layouts.”

You nod, setting your iPad down next to his laptop, then walking to the entrance.

“You’re late,” you groan while you pull open the door.

“Oh? Am I?” the person says with a little playful smile on his lips.

Although you’ve never met Minghao, you have seen pictures of him on his Instagram. You expected to see a head of blue hair, but you are greeted with black. Instead of a narrow face, his is slightly wider. He wears an oversized white shirt, jeans, and a colorful necklace. He looks like every other college student. Sure, he’s more handsome than the average, but not by much. Behind him are two women and one man.

“Can I help you?” you exhale a disheartened sigh when you conclude it isn’t Minghao. Meaning, he’s even later than you wished for.

The guy chuckles. “I doubt it, but Jeonghan can. Is he here?”

His voice is slightly deep. You may have found him soothing to listen to if it wasn't for his irksome words.

“He’s busy right now. You can come back in an hour, though,” you instruct and start to close the door. You don’t need any distractions.

The man sticks his foot out to stop you, causing you to exhale annoyed when you can’t get rid of him. You open the door slightly again.

“Just tell him I’m here,” he says, his teasing tone not so visible anymore but still light enough to not sound too rude.

“And who are you?” you question apathetically.

“Jesus,” someone hisses behind him before shouting, “Jeonghan, come here!”

Your eyes gaze past the man to see a woman with short-length dark hair. She eyes you haughtily, hand on the man’s forearm as if she were to push him away. Though she never does. She takes in your attire, and you once again get a look of judgment at your choice of dress. Your white dress paired with a same-colored, opened button down and beaded chain around your hips is apparently not her style.

“What’s going on?” Jeonghan asks behind you. Reluctantly, you move aside so he can see. “Oh, Seungcheol! Right. One second. Come on in. I’ll get those papers for you.”

“Actually, do they need to come in? They’re not staying long,” you say quickly before any of them can move.

“Relax, princess, he’s just being friendly. You know, like when someone is kind, thoughtful, and considerate?” the girl questions as if you’re dumb and makes her way inside despite you standing close to the door. It forces you to move over. 

Her friends follow along. Three of them stand in the living room, while the second guy sits at the kitchen bar before pulling out his phone. You watch them with a fire inside your chest. Not only are Jeonghan and Minghao late, you now have to deal with this obstacle.

Just as you’re shutting the door, you see a glimpse of blue down the hall. Finally.

“You’re late,” you repeat, but to the correct person this time.

“I know, I’m sorry! Oh, are they helping too?” Minghao says, pausing at the entry when he sees the group of people inside.

“No. Get in,” you huff and point a finger in the apartment. Minghao enters without a fight.

“Hao!” the second girl exclaims with a smile.

Great. Do they all know each other?

“Hi, Hana,” Minghao greets with a gentle grin.

“What are you doing here?” Hana wonders.

“I’m helping Yn with her project,” he answers and gestures to you while you shut the door.

Hana looks your way, and you can see the distaste in her expression; however, she doesn’t say anything.

Jeonghan walks out of his room with a folder in his hand. “I hope this is what you need,” he tells the first man—Seungcheol, you presume.

Seungcheol smiles and takes it from him. He flips open the folder, doing a quick glance through the papers inside.

“Looks great,” he says. “Thanks for getting these for me.”

“Of course,” Jeonghan replies.

“Hannie, do you want to come to Shining Diamond with us this weekend?” the first girl asks, tilting her head in a way that appears as if she’s begging for a yes.

“Ah, this weekend?” he hesitates. “I have a test on Monday I was going to study for.”

“A few hours won’t hurt you,” she replies.

“Alright, Hajun, but only for an hour or so,” Jeonghan says with a not-so-stern voice.

“Great! Minghao, do you want to come, too?” Hajun asks.

Minghao shrugs. “I’ve got nothing else, so sure.”

Hajun grins widely. Her eyes go past Minghao to see you standing in the corner, your arms crossed and eyes staring daggers at everyone.

She doesn’t say anything, but her look tells you you aren’t invited. As if you are silently begging to join. The thought makes you scoff quietly.

“Cool. You all scheduled your weekends,” you start and walk back to the couch. You turn briefly to Seungcheol, who is eyeing you already. “And you got your things. Can we please continue?”

Your gaze shifts to Jeonghan at your question. He offers you an apologetic look before nodding.

“I’ll see you all this weekend. You can text me the time,” he says while walking to the door.

“We can decide that now,” Hana suggests.

“Or over text like Jeonghan said,” you interject. She narrows her eyes at you.

“Be patient. It’ll only take a few minutes,” she replies.

A few minutes, my ass.

“I’d rather you use those minutes to walk out the door.” You give her a faux smile.

“Have some respect,” Hajun scolds.

You laugh though you don’t find any of this humorous. “What a hypocrite. How about you respect people’s times?”

“I did tell Yn I’d help her,” Jeonghan cuts in sheepishly and opens the door to hint at them to leave. “I’ll text you all later, or you guys can come back in a bit.”

Seungcheol’s gaze lingers on yours as he walks toward the door. Your eyes catch on his as he makes his way into your line of sight. His stare has an unsettling feeling form in your stomach, and you contemplate asking what his problem is. Before you can, he turns to Jeonghan.

“Thanks again,” he says as he lifts the folder.

“No problem. Talk to you later,” Jeonghan replies.

All his friends have filed out except for the one male who hasn’t said a word. He glances at you. You expect to receive another jab about who knows what. Instead, he gestures at your body.

“Nice chains,” he compliments with a smile.

Your eyes widen slightly as you glance down briefly at your outfit. That was certainly unexpected. “Uh, thanks.”

“Come on, Vernon!” Hana yells from the doorway. Vernon gives you a thumbs up, which is uncanny given the situation, then follows his friends out the door.

Once they leave, you narrow your gaze at Jeonghan and Minghao. They’re quick to apologize again and start asking questions about your project before you can lecture them. Lucky for them, your hour is almost up, so there isn't enough time to do that anyway.

Weeks go by with you working nonstop on your project. Annoyingly, you also realize that the majority of the people you recruited to help all know each other. It usually isn’t something to be irritated by, but each time they run into each other, they usually end up making small talk that you have to break up. They can do that on their time, not yours. Even more frustrating is that this so-called Seungcheol and his groupies know them all as well. Their reactions to seeing you are always the same—ones of displeasure. Though the feeling is mutual.

You learn they are all business majors, except for Vernon. Well, he was a business major, but he plans to switch to something else. You can’t blame him. If all the business majors act revolting, you would leave that department as well.

Seungcheol… He isn’t as bad. 

You have only ever hung out with him by himself for less than five minutes. Those conversations spur when you’re both left alone after one of your “mutual friends,” because none of these people are your actual friends, abandon you both. The conversations are awkward and never hold any weight. He doesn’t throw snide remarks at you, but his presence still makes you uneasy with the possibility. You’re normally the first to leave because of that. Maybe if he didn’t have those obnoxious friends, you could tolerate him more. You can’t help but associate him with them though. You simply want to get away from them, even if that includes him. Not that you are craving his presence anyway. You barely know him and aren’t interested in changing that.

“Those are looking awesome so far!” Dae exclaims when she peers over your shoulder to see your sketches.

You smile at her and set your iPad down on the table. The weather outside is perfect, given the cool breezes in the heat. It eases your mind, and you feel more creative being in a new environment.

“Thanks, how are yours coming along?” you question and wait for her to angle her own iPad to you. On the screen are various designs, each with a hint of purple or blue.

“Those are neat,” you compliment.

“Yeah?” she says and beams at you. “What about this one? I think the shoulder looks a little weird.”

You reach over, using two fingers to zoom in on the screen to examine it.

“Maybe just lower this,” you gesture on the screen, careful as to not move the screen on accident. “You could take this part out too and make it asymmetrical.”

Dae hums, lips pursed in thought. “I’ll try it. I guess I won’t really know until it’s on someone.”

You nod in agreement before focusing on your designs again. After a while, Dae excuses herself from your homework session. She had planned to meet with one of her helpers. You bid her a quick goodbye.

Ten minutes pass when you see someone standing in front of your table, blocking your sunlight. Your eyes rise to see who it is.

“Hi,” Seungcheol greets.

You straighten your posture upon seeing him. He wears a basic navy suit that fits him well. To your surprise, it actually looks decent on him. Your eyes dart around him to see if any of his friends came.

“Just me this time,” he answers the question in your head.

“What is it you need?” you ask blankly.

“Must I need something?” he retorts.

You suppress the eye roll you want to give him. “Well, I’m sure you didn’t come here to tell me about your day.”

“I can if you want,” he responds, then to your utter dread, he sits down across from you. From the position he is sitting at, the breeze is blowing his hair forward and into his face. He raises a hand to push it back, but it’s no use.

“You can spare me. Tell me what you want and go,” you instruct. This is the first time he has approached you—and alone, for that matter. You don’t want to make it a regular thing.

“Always straight to the point,” he chuckles.

“I just don’t like my time being wasted,” you explain.

“So, I’m wasting your time now?” His eyebrow quirks up.

“Should I spell it out for you?” you scoff. It should be obvious that you don’t feel like talking to him.

“You can try, but do you know how to spell it?” he stares at you through the hair on his face. Even though you can’t see him clearly, you can tell he has a challenging gleam in his eyes.

“At this point, I think you just came to bother me,” you sulk.

He smirks at you. “I didn’t, but it is a little fun to see your feathers ruffled.”

“They’re perfectly content being unruffled.”

Seungcheol chuckles at your response. He pushes his hair back, but this time he rests his hand against his head, keeping his hair in place. His elbow is propped on the table while his other arm lays flat on the surface. 

All the times you have seen him, his hair has covered part of his forehead. Now, it’s all exposed, and you feel you can see him. Maybe it’s because he’s donning a suit for once, but he looks almost… handsome like this—dressed formally with a small glint in his eyes and his lips spread in a gentle smile.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he replies. “I think you need to have more fun.”

Well, he was handsome until he opened his mouth.

“I don’t need a stranger telling me how to live my life,” you say.

“A stranger? I would think we’re at least acquaintances,” he frowns.

“You only see me because your friends are helping me. Speaking of, is that why you’re here? Does it have anything to do with one of them?”

Seungcheol bites his bottom lip, and you can’t stop your eyes from lowering to his mouth.

“Maybe,” he answers slowly. Your eyes snap back to his when he speaks. He gives you a knowing smile that has you shifting in your seat. You had only looked at his lips because he brought attention to them. Nothing more.

“Are we playing twenty questions?” you groan, finally unleashing the eye roll you have been trying not to do.

“We can,” Seungcheol says with a shrug. “You asked three already—more if you start from the time I sat down.”

Exhaling a deep breath, you put your forehead on the hand that’s propped on the table. The conversation is slowly draining your energy. The need to be alone becomes stronger with each second.

“Seungcheol,” you warn. You are not about to play a guessing game with this man. “Please.”

“Oh, so that word is in your vocabulary.”

“Yes. Would you like me to use it in a sentence?” you question, pitch raised as if you’re talking to a toddler. You lift your head to glare at him.

“Sure,” he smirks and leans forward. He still holds his hair back and this time, you can really see the way he is goading you.

“Please fuck off,” you grin widely. Your head tilts to the side as you push your arms together to act overly cute.

“Please make me,” he counters. The smirk he wears is still plastered on his lips.

“If we weren’t in public, I would,” you say, voice returning to normal as you relax your body—the cute act over.

“Oh? How?” he chuckles. From the way he looks at you, you know his mind has gone elsewhere.

You push at the arm that is stretched across the table. “Because I would rather not get caught for murder, you pervert.”

Seungcheol laughs and sits back, letting his hair fall back into his eyes. It’s the first time you notice he has dimples. Your first impression is that they are cute, but you quickly recall who they belonged to and shove that thought from your mind.

“Seokmin wanted to let you know he lost your card,” he finally discloses. “Asked if you could give him another.”

“If he lost a simple card, is he really reliable?” you sigh as you grab another from your purse.

“The good news is those stage lights are so big, he won’t be able to lose those,” he says, taking the card from your hand.

“Thankfully,” you mutter. “I hope you’re better than Seokmin at not losing things.”

“I’ll get this to him, don’t worry,” he replies and puts the card in his suit jacket. You want to ask why he is wearing that, but that will mean you will prolong this conversation. Fortunately for you, he starts to stand up before you succumb to the temptation.

“Thanks for the talk,” he says as if you had a choice. “I’ll see you around.”

You would have doubted that, but you know that won’t be true.

The second time Seungcheol approaches you by himself is a few days later when he catches you exiting a building he is approaching.

“Don’t tell me someone else lost my card as well,” you say after he calls your name. You readjust your bag on your shoulder as you wait for his response.

“About that,” he starts sheepishly.

You put your weight on one hip and cross your arms, and set your mouth in a straight line. You wait for him to tell you who is the perpetrator.

“I may have left your card in my suit jacket when I washed it.”

Well, that explains why you haven’t received a message from Seokmin yet.

“Seriously, Seungcheol?” you exasperate.

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” he says, lips pouting and eyebrows angled.

Shaking your head, you retrieve another card. You make a mental note to restock later as you are running out.

Seungcheol reaches out to grab it from you, but you quickly pull back.

“Put this in your bag,” you instruct. 

You slowly give him the card and watch as he slings his bag around to his front. He makes a show of unzipping one of the front pockets and sliding it inside.

“Done,” he says, acting like he should be rewarded for doing as he was told.

“Good. Is that all?” you wonder. You’ve just finished your last class of the day, and all you want to do is climb into bed.

“Yes.”

Seeing no need to continue the conversation, you start walking in the direction of the parking lot.

“Great. Bye, Seungcheol,” you say over your shoulder.

“Hey, wait,” he says quickly, walking briskly to be by your side. “We’re going in the same direction.”

You peer up at him momentarily. “That doesn’t mean we have to walk together.”

“You said before we’re strangers. This would help us not be that anymore,” he shrugs casually.

“I never said I wanted that,” you reply flatly.

“It might benefit us since we’ll have to see each other a lot.”

“Is that so?” you sigh sadly.

Seungcheol smiles at you before shoving his hands in his pockets. “You did ask my friends to help you.”

“Well, if I knew you were a package deal, I wouldn’t have.”

“Come on. I’m not that bad.”

Sighing, you slow your steps to look at him better. He stops next to you, awaiting your response. His gaze is hopeful, but you’re not sure why.

“I’ll agree if you leave me alone,” you finally say.

Seungcheol’s lips dip in a frown. “I’ll get you to admit it one day.”

He starts to walk again before you can reply. Now is your chance to let him get a few feet from you. You have the opportunity to finally end this conversation you’ve been dreading. Though, for some strange reason, your feet quickly move on their own accord.

Seungcheol’s steps are small, and you catch up with him easily. Neither of you says a word, but you can see a hint of a smile on his lips.

Instead of parting ways once you reach the parking lot, he follows you to your car. Something about it being dangerous for you to walk to it alone, even though it’s light out.

“Yn?” he says to catch your attention when you open your door. You turn and give a small “hm?” in response.

“My friends and I plan to go to this poetry lounge in two weeks. Would you want to come?” he asks. You aren’t sure why he appears to be anxious.

The shock you feel must be evident on your face because Seungcheol’s apprehensive expression relaxes into a gentle smile.

“Business friends or our ‘mutual ones’?” The idea doesn't sound so bad if you are hanging out with the people who are helping you. Although you have your issues with them, they aren’t that bad to be around if you’re being honest.

“Business.”

That’s not what you want to hear.

“Do your friends know you’re asking me this?”

Seungcheol shakes his head. “No, but I don’t need their permission. What do you say?”

You can’t recall being invited to a night out with someone other than Dae. If you were to go out without Dae, it would be with your family or for a class assignment. To be invited to a place by Seungcheol, out of all people, catches you off guard.

Despite having an opportunity for a different change of pace, you answer, “No.”

“No?” he asks, perplexed.

“Your friends don’t like me, Seungcheol,” you explain matter-of-factly through a sigh, leaning against your open door.

“They just like to tease you. I’ll talk to them before,” he explains. 

Tease is a funny way to describe it, you think.

“I don’t need you fighting my battles,” you answer, referring to the latter part of his reply.

“Still. I want you to enjoy yourself. You’ve probably been glued to that project of yours. Step away for a bit,” he reasons.

He isn’t wrong. Your focus has solely been on the project. Of course, you have other classes, but you aren’t putting as much effort into them as you are this one.

“I’ll pick you up and pay for any expenses,” he offers. The more he talks, the more taken aback you are. You figured he’d drop the offer once you rejected him. From every interaction you’ve had with these “friends,” it never ends well. You doubt this will be any different. Regardless, something in you feels a little… honored he is so adamant about getting you to come.

Thus, hesitantly, “Fine.”

Seungcheol’s face breaks out in a grin. “Okay. I can give you my number, so you can text me your address.”

He starts to pull out his phone, but you stop him.

“No need,” you say. At Seungcheol’s confused expression, you continued with a faint smile, “You have my card.”

His mouth opens briefly in realization before the corners are pulled up.

“One step ahead, I see,” he teases, pulling it out to inspect it as if confirming your number is there. You suppose he may think you’re lying to get out of going.

“I’ll text you then,” he concludes and places the card back.

“Alright,” you say, shifting your weight. You aren’t sure if he wants to say anything else. Why are you giving him the time to? You have already given him enough of it.

Sensing your readiness to leave, he waves as he slowly takes steps backward. “Drive safely, Yn.”

“You too, Seungcheol.”

You climb into your car’s seat, turn on the engine, and watch as he makes his way through the maze of cars until he is out of sight.

That Friday comes sooner than you would’ve liked.

Throughout the times you had met with your “friends,” you had bumped into Seungcheol one-third of the time. Sometimes, you were left alone with him again. Each interaction you had with him became easier the more you talked to him. 

Dare you to admit; his presence wasn’t actually teeth-gritting anymore? At least when he was alone, you didn’t have to deal with his business friends. Despite him not usually laughing at their jokes, he never really stepped in to stop them teasing you at first. Maybe only a few times when he felt things got too heated. He wasn’t your best friend, but part of you did hope he would’ve said something. 

Each time he didn’t, you felt your disappointment rise. He apologized on their behalf constantly, but his apology meant nothing when they kept insulting you. However, lately, he has been stepping in sooner. Although you didn’t want him fighting your battles initially, some things you couldn’t do alone. One thing you and his business friends had in common was that no one really knew where the sudden change of attitude came from. For once, you didn’t complain, though.

You’re tempted to cancel this outing, but talking to Seungcheol a few days ago made you realize he was a little more excited than he was letting on. The reason is unknown to you—maybe he really likes poetry lounges—but you’d feel slightly guilty if you ditch last minute.

It’s not like you haven’t been out on a Friday night with people, yet your heart is beating rapidly in your chest. You have changed about six times, exchanging your accessories with each outfit. Normally, you would dress up more, but these aren’t your friends you’re about to hang out with. They are Seungcheol’s—business majors who think skirts more than two inches above the knees mean you’re a slut. Though, you can’t figure out why that matters. You never dress with the thoughts of others. If you want to wear something that day, even if it’s “over-the-top” for some, you wear it. So, why are you in such a fashion dilemma now?

In the end, you settle for a simple, spaghetti-strapped red dress that is slightly bunched on the sides with strings that are tied in bows. You pair it with a small, heart-shaped purse and white heels. There isn’t any bling in your outfit, which is unusual for you. The accessories you wear are minimal and small. They are a matching cherry set you were gifted by your mother on your 12th birthday. Although it’s been years since you received them, they’re still wearable and delicate enough not to call much attention—unlike some of your other accessories. 

You reach for a white fur jacket only to stop when your fingers graze it. Your eyes travel to yourself in the mirror as you debate on wearing it. The jacket will be too much, you conclude.

The buzzing of your phone catches your attention. It’s Seungcheol telling you he’s five minutes away. After stuffing your phone in your purse, you quickly apply red lipstick and toss it in your purse for later touch-ups.

When your phone buzzes again, you hurry to your front door. Your family is home, and you don’t want Seungcheol to meet them. Life at home isn’t ideal, and the only person who has a hint of what is going on is Dae. You doubt Seungcheol will find that out from one quick meeting, but you don’t want to risk it.

You throw your door open, ready to meet him at his car. Instead, he stands in front of you with a hand raised. He takes a step back in surprise. His eyes glide down your body quickly, but you’re too concerned about your family coming to notice.

“Oh, hey,” he greets. “I was just about to knock.”

Before any of your family can intervene, you close the door and start your way down the porch steps. Seungcheol follows you.

“You didn’t have to. I can make my way to your car by myself,” you answer. Although you’ve never been in his car before, you’ve seen it around. Plus, it’s the only unknown vehicle near your home.

You stand next to the passenger door and wait for him to unlock it, arms wrapped around your body when the chilly weather hits you.

“You sure you don’t want a jacket?” he asks when he notices you didn’t bring one.

“It didn’t go with my outfit,” you explain. It’s a lie. The coat did go with your fit, but you didn’t feel like disclosing the fashion crisis you had gone through.

Seungcheol chuckles. “So, you’re going to freeze instead?”

“It’s not that cold,” you lie again.

“It’ll get colder later, though,” he explains and comes closer to you. You step aside when he is a few inches from you. You press your arms tighter around you, eyes averting from his because of his close proximity. The small distance has you wanting to squirm away, but your feet can’t move. He peers at you with a small smile while he reaches behind you.

“My lady,” he murmurs when he pulls the door open and gestures for you to get inside.

“How chivalrous,” you reply after you force your nervousness away. You carefully slide inside his car, situating yourself comfortably in the seat.

Seungcheol waits to ensure you have all your limbs inside before shutting the door. As he walks around to the other side, your eyes scan his car. The seats are leather, and the interior has higher tech than you thought it would. It is a nice car—not overly luxurious, but enough to show it isn’t cheap. It makes you wonder how much it costs.

“You warm enough?” Seungcheol questions after he gets in and buckles.

“Yeah,” you reply quietly, hands resting awkwardly in your lap. The heat from the vents aids in your goosebumps disappearing.

Your mind is already wondering what to expect tonight. You know his friends aren’t fond of you. At least most of them. That guy, Vernon, seems nice enough. He is the quiet one in the group; however, you did notice he has his own quirks that make him unique. You foresee yourself hanging out with him most tonight. But even then, you don’t feel too great about going.

The longer you sit in Seungcheol’s car, the more you regret agreeing to this.

He stares at you for a moment; brows knitted together slightly. You feel uncanny acting so meek, and Seungcheol can't help but notice.

Silence consumes the small area for a few seconds until Seungcheol says, “Seatbelt.”

You look at him confused, then realize he is talking to you. Of course he is, who else?

“Right,” you mumble, quickly pulling the belt over your body.

“You don’t have to come, you know?” he says with one hand on the steering wheel while the other is on the gear stick.

You sigh and gesture to the road ahead. “Let’s just get going. I’ve got stuff to do after.”

It isn’t completely a lie. You still have to work on bringing your designs to life for the show, but it isn’t like you are behind schedule that you need to do that tonight. You just know you might actually back out if you ponder on leaving more.

Seungcheol bites his bottom lip, averting his focus to the road. He doesn’t reply and obliges to your request by shifting the car into drive.

During the ride, your gaze drifts to Seungcheol. He is relaxed in his seat. One arm stretches to hold the wheel while his other rests on his thigh. One which is clad in a pair of light-washed jeans with a black belt between the jean loops. He wears a white shirt tucked in and a black jacket.

You peer forward slightly to read what his shirt says. Propriety of Balenciaga? The Balenciaga? You don’t think he’s wealthy enough to afford one of those shirts. Perhaps it was a gift or a knock-off brand? Maybe he thrifted it… Though, Seungcheol doesn’t seem like the thrifting type.

“Do you need this?” he asks, breaking you out of your thoughts. He’s holding his jacket open to show you what he means. You must’ve been staring too much.

“No, I’m okay,” you say and turn your attention away quickly. “I just didn’t realize you wore glasses.”

Although the comment is true, you need something to say before he questions why you truly are staring at him. You had noticed the spectacles earlier but didn’t feel like mentioning them.

Seungcheol laughs lightly, “Actually, I don’t. I just thought I’d try to improve my fashion. What do you say, did it work?”

He glances at you after stopping at a traffic light; his mouth quirks up in a teasing smile. You turn toward him and scan his face quickly. They do look good on him, but you aren’t going to tell him that.

“They certainly did something, but whether that effect is good or bad is a secret,” you reply, looking away again.

“I’ll take that as you not wanting to admit they look nice on me,” Seungcheol says and continues driving at the green light.

“I think they’d look better on someone else,” you answer. Though, you don’t believe what you said. Something about the glasses on him has you wanting to stare at him more. They fit his face well and make him appear more attractive. You don’t want to sit on that thought for much longer.

“Is that so? Here,” he says, pulling them off his face. The glasses come into your view, and you stare at him, puzzled. 

When you don’t take them, he adds, “They won’t bite.”

You roll your eyes at his comment and finally grab them from his grasp. You pull down his sun visor to look at yourself. After sliding on the spectacles, you turn your head from side to side to see the different angles.

“I think I was right. They do look better on someone else,” you tease and face him as you shut the visor. Seungcheol turns to you at your reply.

His eyes wander across your face, a hint of a smile appearing on his lips.

“Maybe I’ll have to agree with you this one time,” he says. His stare lingers on yours so much that it has you shifting in your seat. When you avert your gaze, your eyes widen.

“Cheol!” you shout as he was about to rear-end another car. Instinctively, he shoots an arm out across your chest that has your back pressing firmly against the seat. The sudden act causes you to reach up and grab onto his arm tightly.

The car screeches as it comes to a sudden halt. Luckily in time to not hit the other car.

You both sit still, breathing intensified at the near accident. After a few seconds, Seungcheol retracts his arm. It’s then you realize you’re still holding onto him. Your eyes dart to his forearm and frown when you see small crescent shapes indented in his skin.

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly.

Seungcheol’s focus is ahead of him but glances at you in confusion at your apology. “What?”

You quickly gesture to his forearm. When he sees the marks, he rubs a hand over them absentmindedly. “It’s fine. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?” you reply, heart rate slowing down to normal.

“I’m alright. Sorry. I guess I shouldn’t make you play dress up in the car.”

“No, it was my fault.”

Seungcheol eases on the gas pedal when the light turns green, keeping a safe distance from the car in front. He remains quiet for a while to ensure you are both safe.

“Are you sure you’re okay? First, you apologize, and now something is your fault?” he jokes.

You don’t remember what you said a few minutes ago, so it takes a while for you to comprehend what he is saying. “Shut up,” is all you can respond with in the end.

Seungcheol laughs but doesn’t pester you about it any longer.

“Oh, you can take these back,” you say and tug off the reason for almost hitting another car.

“Thanks,” he mumbles as he slides the glasses back on his face.

You nestle yourself back in the seat again and glance out the window. As the buildings pass, it dawns on you that you’ve never called him Cheol. The thought of using a nickname for him has your body tingle with an unknown feeling. It’s strange. You aren’t the first to call him that, but you aren’t that close to him to start using nicknames. Annoyingly, you spend the remainder of the car ride fretting about how he felt toward you shortening his name. 

Did he even notice? If he did, did he like it? Had you crossed a line?

When he parks, you become acutely aware of everyone’s attire. Many wear jeans or tights with a plain shirt and jacket. A few have on skirts or dresses, but they are more t-shirt dresses or plain skater skirts, if anything. Plus, they are accompanied by tights because of the weather. No one has as much skin showing as you do.

The sinking feeling of not belonging consumes you. You can’t remember the last time you felt this way, and that alone has you questioning yourself even more.

“I’m too dressed for this, aren’t I?” you think out loud.

Seungcheol turns off the car, eyes raking your body again. Though this time, you’re aware of it. You tug down the bottom of your dress at his stare. It’s not like it’s predatory, but it still has your nerves skyrocketing.

“Since when did you care about what others thought of your outfit?” he wonders. The question has you sighing, momentarily closing your eyes as you remind yourself you dress for you, not for others’ approval.

“Right,” you swallow harshly and sling your purse over your shoulder—mentally throwing away the negative thoughts too. “Let’s just go.”

With that, you open his car door and step out.

“Yn wait—” you hear Seungcheol call out right as you shut the door.

Your hair is immediately pushed from your face as the wind blows past. It makes your body shiver, and for a split second, you wish you took up Seungcheol’s offer to grab a jacket when you were at your house.

Seungcheol’s car beeps as it locks before he stands in front of you. His broad body blocks the wind, and you feel your own ease from feeling a tad warmer.

“I’m sorry if that came off rude,” he apologizes softly. “I think you look great.”

You look at him, face void of emotion. You don’t believe him, but you don’t want to argue. At least not standing in this weather. 

“Okay,” you reply. “We need to go meet your friends.”

You take a step forward, thinking it will get him to start walking toward the building, but he doesn’t budge. You only decrease the distance between you two.

“I mean it,” he whispers.

Goosebumps are forming on your exposed skin the longer you stay out. You blame the cold weather for them, but something in your chest tightens at the way Seungcheol is speaking to you.

“I think red is your color,” he pauses. “You should wear it more, Cherry.”

Your head tilts at his last word. “Cherry?”

The corner of his mouth raises at hearing it from your lips. Slowly, he brings a hand to your face. You stand still as you stare at him with wide eyes. His hand brushes past your cheek before he grazes his fingertips along your ear. 

“It suits you,” he murmurs, eyes moving away from yours. 

You follow his gaze and realize he has been looking at your cherry-charmed earrings. His eyes then flicker to the matching cherry-charmed necklace resting below your bare collarbones. You’re not sure if he means the color suits you or if the nickname he just made suits you. Either way, you’re surprised at his words.

Suddenly, the weather doesn't feel as chilly anymore. Your body heats quickly at his comment, or maybe it’s from how close he is to you. Nevertheless, you need to distract yourself from this warm, odd feeling bubbling in your chest.

You clear your throat and step back. His hand lowers steadily.

“I’ll think about it,” you reply more confidently and clearly.

Seungcheol takes the hint and moves aside, hands stuffed in his jeans pockets. He nods his head in the direction of the building, and you start walking toward it. Your pace is slightly faster than his, but you don’t mind not walking next to him. If anything, you need distance from him anyway.

The moment you open the door to the lounge, the heat from inside greets you in full force. You step inside and are welcomed by a worker. He is young, maybe a few years younger than you. He gives you a friendly smile.

“Hi, are you wanting to be seated, or are you with a group already?”

“With a group,” you reply. The worker nods.

“Do you need help locating them?”

You shake your head as the jingle of the door opening sounds behind you. Seungcheol stops behind you. His hand comes to hover over your lower back, not really touching you, but close enough to feel the heat radiate from his hand onto your skin. It has you shuffling away.

“They’re over there,” he says. You peer up to see where he is gesturing. Fair enough, you see his friends at a table toward the back of the building. There are five of them, all smiling at each other. You can spot a few familiar faces—one of them being Vernon. You feel a little at ease knowing he made it here.

“Thanks,” you murmur to the worker before making your way to the table. The closer you get to the table, the slower your steps become. You’re used to keeping your chin high in situations you aren’t completely comfortable in. The whole “fake it until you make it” is on repeat in your head.

Yet the saying is not encouraging you much right now.

“You’re not mad at me, are you?” Seungcheol asks when he catches up to you. You don’t realize you had stopped a few feet from the table.

“No,” you say. You aren’t mad at him; you just need some space from him for now. You don’t like how you aren’t in control of your emotions when you’re around him. “I’m going to freshen up in the bathroom.”

Seungcheol eyes you for a second before nodding. You make your way to the bathroom, but right before you enter, you can hear the welcoming echoes coming from his table of friends. All of them sound cheerful and excited to see him. You don’t expect any of them to look forward to your presence, yet you feel a little disappointed when no one brings up your name—in a positive way.

After using the restroom and washing your hands, you stand in front of the mirror with your hands lingering under the warm water. Your eyes roam your face and body, taking in your appearance. Compared to your normal fashion, you really did dress down. You sigh when you realize you’re circling back to the same issue.

You retract your hands from the faucet and grab a few towels to dry them.

It doesn’t matter if you’re overly dressed. You usually are and don’t care. You look great. You should feel confident in your fit. 

You gently tug the dress down before turning in front of the mirror.

You look fine. You look nice.

As you reapply your lipstick, you keep repeating compliments and reassuring phrases in your head. 

They’re going to look at you funny. You are going to ignore them.

“That’s right,” you sigh to yourself as you toss the lipstick back into your purse. 

Suddenly, your phone starts to vibrate. You pull it out to see Dae’s name appear across the top. You eagerly answer her call.

“Hey babe,” Dae’s voice comes from the other line. “How’s it going?”

“I’m ready to go home,” you say with a small huff.

“Damn, that horrible? Is he treating you badly?” Dae questions. You had told her about Seungcheol’s invitation when you got home that day. She was shocked, but ultimately supportive of you going.

You shake your head despite her not being able to see you. “No, he’s been fine. I just,” you pause. Although you have your ups and downs with Dae, she has stayed with you when no one else has. You don’t disclose your troubles often, wanting people to not see that side of you, but you’re feeling too low that you can’t stop the confession from coming out.

“I’m way overdressed for this place. Everyone’s in jeans or tights. I don’t belong here,” you say.

Dae sighs sadly. “Jeans are boring. I think I only own a pair,” she answers, trying to make you smile. “Just remember, if you were to die right now, would you want your last outfit to be something boring?”

“No,” you answer slowly.

“Exactly. These are people who are used to looking plain. They’re probably jealous you’re outdressing them. Don’t let them get to you, Yn. I’m sure you look beautiful.”

Your shoulders ease at her words. “Thanks, Dae.”

“No need. If they had the talent to dress themselves better, they would.”

You let her words sink in, but the reassurance doesn’t last long.

“I shouldn’t have come,” you say, beginning to pace the small area in the bathroom.

“It’s good for you to be around people from outside our department. It’ll make you more open-minded,” she encourages. “Plus, Seungcheol isn’t as bad as he seemed, huh?”

There is a teasing tone to her voice that you don’t like.

“One outing with him doesn’t mean he’s my friend,” you argue.

Dae giggles. “No, but it’s a start. Do you like him?”

“No!” you answer quickly.

“I was just asking in general. Not ‘like’ as in crushing on him,” she explains nonchalantly, but you can hear her smile.

“He’s,” you pause as you try to think of a word to describe him, “he’s been alright.”

“Well, I better let you get back to him then. I just wanted to check in,” Dae answers.

“Thanks. I appreciate it,” you say.

“Remember, you don’t need their approval. You never have, and you never will. People want the confidence you have.”

“I’m not feeling too confident right now,” you mumble.

“That’s because you’re overthinking. Chin up, okay?”

Sighing, you reply. “Okay.”

“Good. Talk to you later!”

“Yeah,” you say before hanging up.

Taking one last look at yourself, you roll your shoulders back and exit the bathroom.

Seungcheol is sitting in the middle of Hajun and someone you don’t know. His eyes lift to meet yours when he hears the sound of your heels.

“Hey, you okay?” he asks. 

Nodding, your eyes roam for a spot to sit.

“You knew you were just going to a poetry lounge, right? Not the runway,” Hajun comments with a small scoff.

Your eyes move to look at her, and you quirk an eyebrow. She wears leggings with a graphic tee. Her discarded jacket is slung over the back of her chair. “Are you sure you know that, as well? Or did you think you were just going back to your bed?”

“This is how normal people dress,” she replies.

“Relax, Hajun,” a voice you don’t know sounds. You direct your attention to them. 

The guy has black hair that is parted on the side to expose his forehead. His eyes are narrow, and even though he has a soft appearance now, you’re sure his gaze can be fierce when needed. 

“People don’t need to dress up for special occasions,” he says.

You’re taken aback by his comment. Seungcheol’s friends have always questioned your wardrobe, so for this new “friend” to not agree with Hajun is surprising. 

“No, they don’t, but you gotta’ admit she’s a little overdone huh, Soonyoung?” Hajun replies.

“Hajun,” Seungcheol interjects, giving her a pointed look.

“I understand not everyone knows how to dress. It’s okay, though. I can offer my services if you need some help,” you comment, half tempted to reach in your bag to get a business card. Although you aren’t on campus, you never know when you’ll run into someone who will make a good connection, so you keep them with you wherever you go.

“Services?” Hajun laughs and rests her crossed arms on the table. “And what ‘services’ are you offering? Because from the looks of it, I can tell exactly what you offer. Sorry, I’m not interested.”

Her eyes roam your body once more, indicating that the way you are dressed, means your services consist of paying to be with people in bed.

“I don’t think those services would help you anyway. Your rotting attitude is enough to repel anyone. Though I guess some people are willing to lower their standards when they’re desperate,” you counter.

“You’re such a—” she starts.

“Can we talk?” Seungcheol asks Hajun quickly, but he doesn’t give her the option to answer because he takes her hand and pulls her away from the group.

The table is silent for a few seconds before Soonyoung speaks up again.

“Don’t pay any mind to her. It’s nice to meet you. You must be Yn?” He smiles at you, slightly bowing at you.

“Correct,” you say, trying to not show how irritated you feel.

“Come sit,” he offers, pulling up a chair so you’re sat between him and Vernon. You thank him before sitting in the chair. You sit your purse in your lap as conversations begin to spark again.

Their voices become background noise as your gaze drifts to Seungcheol and Hajun in the corner. They stand close to each other and are in a deep conversation—clearly about you. Seungcheol has his back to you, so you can’t see his expression, but you can see Hajun’s. Her lips are in a frown, her expression not as sassy as before. 

Though her pouting seems forced, her bottom lip a little too far stuck out. Soon enough, she rolls her eyes, an expression similar to how it was earlier. Her eyes then move from him to you over his shoulder. When she catches your gaze, she smiles and raises a challenging eyebrow. However, her gaze doesn’t last long because Seungcheol’s hand comes up and guides her eyes back to him. Even though his hand isn’t touching her completely, she leans into his touch. The act has you stilling.

“Yn?” Vernon questions, tearing you from your thoughts. You don’t realize you’re clutching your purse until your focus goes to Vernon. You ease your grip and raise an eyebrow.

“Soonyoung was asking what your major was,” Vernon explains.

“Oh,” you say, glancing around the table. It appears the others are in their own conversation.

You look at the man to your left. He gives you a reassuring smile that tells you he is patient. “I’m studying fashion design. Are you in business, too?”

Soonyoung shakes his head with a laugh. “I could never. I’m a dance major.”

“Wow, that sounds nice,” you say. “Aren’t your career choices limited with that, though?”

“A little,” Soonyoung replies honestly. He doesn’t seem offended by the question. Maybe he gets it a lot. “But it makes me happy. I can always teach or maybe even become a dancer in a well-known group.”

You hum, understanding his words.

“Isn’t fashion design limited, too?” Vernon asks.

“Clothes are everywhere. I can do a lot with it.”

“But not everyone will wear your clothes,” Hana says, having finally heard your discussion.

“There will always be someone,” you argue, confident in your work. It may be a slow start, but you believe in your designs.

She laughs. “Who? Your mother?”

Your eyes narrow at the mention of your mom, and Hana is quick to notice the change in attitude. Instead of letting go of the topic, she continues.

“Ooh, trouble at home? See? I knew the ‘Great Yn’ isn’t as perfect as she seems,” Hana says. What makes her think you are so “great” is unknown to you, but you aren’t surprised to guess people have made up a persona for you. 

“Stop, Hana,” Vernon says, but it has no effect.

“Oh, so we were right?” Hajun’s voice comes from above. You glance up to see she and Seungcheol have returned. It appears their little chat did nothing to keep Hajun from being a bitch.

“Seems so,” Hana says with a smile. “Care to share with the class what kind of mommy issues you have?”

“No wonder she dresses like that,” Doyun, another one of Seungcheol’s alleged friends, adds. “She’s not getting attention at home. I guess Daddy isn’t there either?”

“That’s enough,” Seungcheol scolds them all.

Your eyes are darting from everyone at the table. Their stares are akin to shrink rays, making you feel tiny and minuscule. You know when you aren’t welcomed, and there’s no reason to stay listening to this. You want to snap back, end the conversation with your own last words, but nothing comes to mind.

In lieu, you push your chair back and stand up. Your hands twitch with the temptation to dump their food all over them, but you just want to get out as soon as possible. 

You waste no time careening for the exit. 

Seungcheol calls your name; you ignore it. The worker from before sees you, telling you goodbye, but you couldn't care less and push past the door before he can finish his sentence.

Your breath gets caught in your throat at the sudden breeze that slams into you. Instantly, your arms wrap around you once more. You glance around and see a bus stop down the street. You don’t care that it’s the other way from Seungcheol’s car. You hurry to the station, not sure when the next bus will come.

The bus stop isn’t deserted despite the cold weather. The area must be busy all the time since the sidewalks are littered with more people than you expect. All the seats at the stop are taken, yet you still shuffle under the shelter in hopes to get away from some of the breeze.

You are shaking, and your teeth are chattering. It’s impossible to force your body to stop since you need to generate heat somehow. You probably look like a pathetic naked chihuahua in winter.

You take out your phone, open up a browser, and search for bus times. Thankfully, there’s one coming in three minutes in the direction you need. The thought of taking the bus is not pleasurable. You hate the idea of your skin touching something so many others have touched. It feels unsanitary.

Accidentally leaning back against the wall while you silently groan has you jumping at the cold material touching your bare skin. Your jolt catches the attention of an older woman who is sitting near you.

“Aren’t you freezing, child?” she asks as she stares at your attire—or lack of. 

“I’ll be fine soon,” you say, not really in the mood for talking.

“Where is your coat? Did you not know the weather was going to be cold?” she continues.

Utterly done with all the people-talk tonight, you hiss, “Focus on yourself. I’ll focus on me.”

She seems startled at your outburst. Her already crossed arms tighten as she turns away from you. Her muttered “bitch” doesn’t go unnoticed, but you don’t say anything about it. There’s no point in arguing with a stranger.

The sound of the bus calls your attention, and you mentally thank the universe for the great timing. After people leave and all the new patrons enter, you finally take a step up the bus’ steps. Before you can climb all the way, you hear your name being called. You look past the bus doors to see Seungcheol running toward you.

Just what you need.

You disregard him and step farther up the steps of the bus.

The bus driver looks expectantly at you, and it dawns on you that you need to provide payment before you can board fully.

“Card?” you wonder. The bus driver nods and gestures to a device to the right.

As you unzip your purse, you feel a hand grip your arm.

“Where are you going?” Seungcheol asks, slightly breathless. His hair is disheveled from running, but he doesn’t seem to care.

“Home, idiot,” you huff and pull your arm out of his grasp so you can retrieve your card.

“Just come with me. We can talk somewhere else,” he pleads, a hand stopping your movements again.

“I’m not going anywhere with you, Seungcheol,” you hiss. “Now, let go of me.”

He hesitates but slowly releases your arm. He doesn’t leave, though. “I’ll take you home. You don’t need to take the bus. Come on.”

“Go with him or get on! We have places to be,” a passenger exclaims, clearly annoyed with your drama.

You raise your head to the person, narrowing your eyes in a glare that tells them to pipe down. It has no effect on them. They shoot a fierce look back.

“I know you don’t want to take the bus,” Seungcheol comments quietly.

He’s right. Not only do you not want to sit next to a lady whose arms are filled with shopping bags—the only available seat—you really don’t want to add time to your trip home.

Seungcheol reaches out again and carefully takes your hand in his. This time, you don’t fight him as he guides you off the bus. Once you’re both off, the bus doors shut and begin its trip down the road.

You watch it silently, not knowing Seungcheol is discarding his jacket until you feel the warm material cover your shoulders. Your eyes snap back to him as if remembering who you’re with.

“I’m sorry they said all that stuff. I told them not to do that tonight,” he says remorsefully.

“Oh, so you’ll let them talk shit about me another day?” you chide and start walking away from him. Thankfully for Seungcheol, it’s in the direction of his car.

“No, that’s not what I meant,” he replies as he hurries to catch up, which doesn’t take much effort as you aren’t walking too fast due to your cold, stiff legs.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure they’ll do that whenever they want to. They wouldn’t be the first,” you scoff.

“It doesn’t make it right regardless,” he says. You halt in your steps, causing Seungcheol to stop and turn to look at you.

“I talk shit about people behind their backs, too. Does that make me a bad person?” you question. Perhaps if he sees you as one he’ll leave you alone.

He exhales a deep breath. “Let’s just get in the car, okay?”

“You can admit it,” you challenge and walk closer to him. “Does talking shit about someone make me a bad person, Seungcheol?”

He stares down at you, soft gaze turning dark with annoyance.

“To the car, Yn,” he demands slowly just in case you won’t understand; his tone is sharp in a way you haven’t heard before. You don’t let that scare you away. Maybe if you weren’t so fired up, you would have been a little intimidated.

You laugh darkly and roll your eyes at his command. “You want me to sit next? Bark, too?”

“Now, you’re just being dramatic.”

Dramatic, he says.

“Woof?” you reply, dramatically giving him the best puppy-dog eyes you can muster.

Seungcheol’s jaw clenches at your response—not pleased with your sarcasm. However, instead of replying in an annoyed tone, he takes a step forward. His head draws closer to your face to ensure your eyes are glued to his.

“Wanna be a good girl and go to the car, Cherry?” he murmurs lowly, an eyebrow quirking up for a second.

His sudden change in tone has you stiffening. You want to bite back—figuratively or literately… you aren’t sure yet—but you can’t even remember what you are mad about in the first place.

“Hm?” he croons when you don't reply quickly.

Rather than a sarcastic reply, you simply grumble, “whatever,” before pushing past him to get to his car.

You stand next to the passenger side like before, waiting for him to unlock it. Seungcheol comes beside you and swiftly unlocks the vehicle. Although you aren’t arguing at the moment, you can sense some irritation lingering from him.

You get the feeling he'll always hold the door open no matter how annoyed he is with you.

You feel suffocated.

The air in the car is too hot. The weight of his jacket has you overheating. The tension is unbearable.

Seungcheol keeps his eyes on the road, not throwing you a single glance as he drives. Every once in a while he will tighten his hold on the steering wheel. One time you even catch the way his muscles flex at the motion—now exposed from not wearing his jacket. You never realized how fit he is. This isn’t the first time you have seen him sleeveless, but you just never stared long enough to notice. Or if you did, you simply didn’t care. Regardless, you notice now, and you have to force your eyes away before he catches you staring.

You want to ask for music so you don’t have to sit in this insufferable silence, but your mouth feels dry. You decide to just deal with the quietness, shifting in the seat so you’re facing the window more. Your eyes drift close as you let the hum of the car distract you. 

Seungcheol’s jacket is snuggled around you, and his woodsy cologne fills your senses. It’s pleasant, and you don’t mind if you smell more of it in the future.

By the time you arrive home, you are on the verge of sleep. You stumble out of the car and shut the door without saying a word to Seungcheol. You expect him to drive off, but the sound of his tires moving never comes. Instead, you hear his car door opening and closing.

“You don’t have to walk me to the door,” you say while you glance behind you. Seungcheol is following you languidly.

“No, I don’t,” he says and pauses at the bottom of your porch steps. He places a foot on the first step while a hand holds onto the rail. You have your keys out, ready to slide them into the keyhole when you speak.

“Then don’t,” you reply sternly.

He chuckles lowly but doesn’t say anything about it.

“You can go now,” you say when he doesn't move.

“You have something of mine.”

Puzzled, you stare at him for a second. Seungcheol gestures to your body, and you quickly remember you’re wearing his jacket. You tug it off and toss it to him. He grabs it from the air with ease. The loss of heat makes you wish he didn’t say anything.

“Goodnight, Cherry,” he murmurs as soon as you click open your door. You step inside before turning to face him.

The nickname you used earlier forms on your tongue, yet you can’t find the courage to say it consciously.

“Night,” you answer, then shut the door before either of you can say anything else.

With your head bowed, you turn the lock slowly while you exhale deeply. His nickname falls from your lips under your breath—unable to keep the desire at bay.

previous chapter \\ series masterpost // next chapter

A/N: Can't believe the first chapter is actually published 😭 I sat and stared at this for a few before hitting "post" because I'm so anxious! dfl;kbjdvs. Please feel free to share your thoughts on it so far!

For my “shy/silent” readers, I’ve created a feedback form where you can share your thoughts on my fics in a more anonymous and private way. ^-^

taglist: @iammisstora, @christinewithluv, @lithelust, @musingsofananxiouspotato, @yoozuku, @lockburn-castle, @mystikhal-blog, @oncloudvii23 (couldn't tag :c), @cheolcherries (tysm!!!)

©️hongcherry // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

[the-blue-eyed-firebender]

royai fic recs?

Ahhh friend you've read my mind! I actually started making another Royai fic rec post and it's been sitting in my drafts for a couple of days! Thanks for the ask, and enjoy! ❤️

Yet Another Royai Fic Rec

(I keep making these.)

My Girl Claudine by Leelo_Forever

Rating: G

Word Count: 2.2K

Summary: On a night out with the team, Riza's attempts to avoid dwelling on today's date are almost working.

Excerpt: “Stay on beat!” shouts the Colonel while watching their feet, one arm in the air, the other slung over Breda's shoulders, with Havoc at the end of the line. The patrons begin to clap to the rhythm of their footfalls and she watches as the Colonel looks up and around, smiling and glassy eyed, shirtsleeves rolled, jacket discarded, and collar askew, crushed under Breda’s forearm. All three are breathless and rosy cheeked, grinning through their concentration.  

“Louder!” he yells at the pub’s revelers, laughing as men begin to bang on the tables and stomp their feet from their seats. They are all going to be in sorry shape in the morning. 

My thoughts: A vivid bar scene, a lighthearted moment with the Mustang team, and a lovely, quippy exchange between our two favorites. If you're looking for meaningful fluff, this story really hits the spot. And the song is just *chef's kiss*. It's that good I was fully expecting it to be a real song, not just part of this story. I was highly disappointed when I typed the lyrics into Spotify and nothing came up.

Want You to Live by @starwritingbri

Rating: T

Word Count: 4K

Summary: After telling the Colonel not to perform human transmutation for her sake, Riza finds herself slipping away. She has a conversation with an old friend about life, death, and Roy Mustang. (NOT a major character death fic!)

Excerpt: The man sitting next to Riza felt like he’d been there for as long as she could remember, and yet she knew he hadn’t been for a long time. Time felt more difficult to grasp than ever before. As a sniper, it would warp as her focus narrowed on a target, or in meetings where the speaker felt too self-important to get to the point. Seconds and minutes rarely felt like the allotted times they were supposed to be, but this situation brought an entirely new sensation to time distorting. 

Riza sat up to get a better look at her companion. “Maes?” 

My thoughts: Gut wrenchingly emotional and poetic, amazing characterization, and the scene this author created was so vivid in my head it was like watching a movie. The dialogue here is poignant and bittersweet, and Maes Hughes is captured so beautifully it's almost painful. Gosh, I love this piece, A+ angst with a happy ending.

two tickets to the rabbit hole, please by @chryseis (lovelyleias on AO3)

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.9K

Summary: A selection of letters exchanged between Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye from 1903 to 1908.

Excerpt: Dear Mister Mustang,

It pleases me to hear that you’re finally getting along with your rival. I must say, antagonizing someone over a piece of quiche is very strange. 

My father is well, thank you for asking. Sometimes I hear things in the night–terrible sounds that I cannot explain, coming from the attic where he keeps his office. I have a sense that something is going to happen soon. But sometimes I wish I was an alchemist, so that I might understand him better. You probably think that’s silly. It probably is!

I hope your birthday was fun. Did you do anything exciting? You strike me as someone who enjoys their own birthday very much. 

Best, 

Riza Hawkeye

My thoughts: This one is a masterpiece, full stop. I've read this one several times, and keep coming back to it. Each letter is a progression of their long-distance relationship, a token of their importance to one another and how it deepens over time. And I love the poignancy of the strikethroughs. Roy's second to last letter absolutely shattered my heart, I actually had to stop what I was doing to absorb the feelings it gave me.

I first found this story by listening to the podfic version by the incredibly talented @klainelynch, who performs it so well. Highly, highly recommend.

Your hands, holding me up by @lassusog

Rating: T

Word Count: 3.6K

Summary: After a mission gone wrong, Riza wakes to find that her memories are gone. Her colleagues, best friend and her -surprisingly- very caring superior are there to offer help.

Excerpt: For the second time she locks eyes with the man in the coat.

“What’s your name?” he asks her quietly.

“I-,” she begins. Her pulse thunders against her temple. The man’s eyes bore into hers like he already knows the answer. So she gives it to him, because the realization is too heavy for her to carry alone.

“I don’t remember.”

The room goes deadly quiet.

My thoughts: This is one of the first fics I read in this fandom. It gets rec'd a lot, and for very good reason. This story is captivating right out the gate. I feel like memory loss is a trope often used but seldom done right. This author has done it right.

And this dialogue. THIS. DIALOGUE. Oof it just sizzles. The team's banter. Rebecca and Mustang's bickering. Mustang's gentleness and his suave sense of humor. Perfection, all of it.

The characterization is spot-on, especially for Riza, which is so impressive as she herself doesn't know who she's suppose to be, and yet she still comes across as herself (does that make sense?)

More Royai fic recs: here and here

[xaharadesert]

Vampire MC Caught by Vampire Hunter - Headcanon

Julian Devorak x MC

A/N: Time for my yearly post, as requested by a very lovely anon! Also, this almost turned into a fic, so apologies for the weird format my dears! Please let me know if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes :) requests are (technically) open!

TW: major character death (it’s you, you die in this one, sorry), disrespecting a corpse/graphic description of a corpse (it’s also your corpse, sorry), vague allusion to vomit (this one is not you!)

❤️Julian❤️

As a doctor, Julian had been fascinated by your vampirism and altered traits

As a human man, he had been a little bit scared (although, given that the two of you had been together for a while before you told him, he felt reassured that you hadn’t eaten him yet)

But as a significant other? He was terrified. And not for himself

Julian liked to think of himself as one of the more open minded citizens of Vesuvia, and even he had some trouble coming to terms with your vampirism and its implications

Your relationship had been a tad rocky following the announcement, as Julian was preoccupied with debating the ethics of loving a vampire

But never let it be said that Julian believes all life is precious; he’s a well-traveled man, and he’s met some of the worst humanity has to offer

So if you’re careful with your targets, he’s completely fine looking the other way

In fact, having a bit of knowledge on the subject, he helps you find more efficient methods of storing blood in order to give you more time to research potential meal sources

All that being said, he adapted to the situation and loved you just as well as he would have if you hadn’t had a proclivity for drinking blood

No, it wasn’t the dietary restrictions that worried him: it was the hunters

Vampire hunters weren’t exactly common, since, well, vampires weren’t either

But they were known for their dedication and cunning

Julian, ever the proactive protector, always kept an ear out at the Rowdy Raven for any rumours of a vampire hunter entering Vesuvia, ready to whisk you away at a moment’s notice

He kept bags packed for that exact occasion, and felt confident that he was as prepared as could be

But what he couldn’t prepare for was a hunter who knew about his connection to you, and who therefore knew to keep his presence a secret from everyone

That was maybe the worst part: that Julian didn’t know who had done it

Whoever they were, they were quick and brutal

Julian couldn’t have predicted that anything would go wrong that night; you had gone out with a target in mind, and Julian, having witnessed your supernatural strength in person, wasn’t worried in the slightest that you would return home unharmed when you were done

It wasn’t even unusual to wake up with you still missing, since you were occasionally caught picking your way through the shadows of town when the sun crept up too early for a mad dash home

What was unusual was the banging at the door at the crack of dawn and several of his friends’ panicked voices overlapping as they all tried to explain

They dragged him into town, down to an open square with an old but grandiose statue of a certain disgraced ruler standing in the middle, and they pointed up at it

Not at the statue, though, but of a corpse with a stake driven through its heart hanging by a rope from the statue’s extended hand

No one could fault Julian for the violent illness that overtook him in that moment— he was one of many who couldn’t stomach the sight

He shoved his friends away and returned home immediately to have his breakdown in private

This was more than some freak accident resulting in a loved one’s death; this was a murder committed with intent, and he had no way of finding closure

He couldn’t turn to his friends for help, since none of them had known your secret: this act of violence toward you provided no proof of your true nature, and Julian didn’t want to tarnish the reputation of the person he loved

Perhaps the only other person who could have helped was Asra, and after the incident he was nowhere to be found either

This was a burden Julian would have to bear alone

For although his friends made every effort to comfort and aid him, none of them truly understood the nature of his love or his loss

[romana-after-dark]

The Wrong Way: Chapter 8

Dark!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader Tommy Miller x reader (secondary)

Masterlist

Spotify playlist

Summery: You are sold to Joel to clear up some of your fathers' debts, and he takes you back to his house where him, Tommy, and high ranking members of his raiding trope stay. Joel is mean, cruel, and hash, but had small moments of softness that confuse you in your venerable state. Over time, you get to know him and Tommy, and see different sides of each, and both are hiding secrets. Was it possible to fall in love under these circumstances? Or was that just another way Joel was fucking with you?

Aka: my mom sold me to One Direction

WARNINGS FOR FULL FIC, NOT CHAPTER BY CHAPTER UNLESS SOMETHING NEW IS ADDED AFTER MASTER WARNING LIST: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!!! Fic contains graphic depictions of sexual assault, rape, molestation, dubcon/non con. Blow Jobs, PIV sex, lose of virginity, sex trafficking, past incest, death/people dying everywhere, Stockholm syndrome, falling for your rapist, victim blaming, torcher, branding, physical abuse, rape (not Joel), somno, dub con on tommy? idk he's not really into it but feels like he has to, self-harm/depression/suicidal thoughts (not a lot) but fair warning, major age gaps, love triangle, pregnancy/birth, threats of abortion, major character death, mentions of potential csa/child abuse but does not even come close to happening, forced pregnancy, forced housewife shit, breeding, breeding kink?!?!

I wanna add we're really heavy on the birth/pregnancy, forced birth, choking, domestic violence, threats of hanging and murder. Can't say I didn't warning yuh (unless i missed a warning of course. then please let me know so i cant edit ASAP) Like this is a rough chapter, a lot of violence to a pregnant woman. but I wanna say right now...

The baby will not be harmed in anyway. Baby will be born healthy, and live and have a good life in both the main ending and alt ending.

5k words (sorry not sorry lol)

Also to clarify a few things I guess i didn't make clear enough in previous chapters!

Joel only 'guessed' that Tommy and LO slept together. He had suspicions but thought he could trust Tommy and his 'girlfriend'. When LO rushed to stop Joel from hurting Tommy, that was his 'evidence'. Joel was beating Tommy because he found out about Maria.

Joel only heard part of the conversation between Zach and Little One. Nick said way back in chapter 3 the wall are thinner than she thinks. He didn't know Lorenzo had any part of it, and because LO didn't rat him out, he never will.

Thats my bad for not being clear!

Can you catch the Superstore homage? (aka i rewatched two episodes just to take it line for line lol)

***************

Month 3

No one warned you about morning sickness. 

You knew fuck all about sex before you came to Joel’s, just a thing or two from your friend back at the ranch and how to get a man off with your mouth or hands, but pregnancy and birth was next to nothing. You didn’t even know how pregnancy happened really, other than a penis in a vagina until you asked Tommy early on if you were going to get pregnant. After a very uncomfortable talk for both of you, Tommy explained that Joel told him he pulls out, so you should be good… Lorenzo said you can still get pregnant that way, but thinking back to the night Joel almost killed Tommy and you… Joel finished inside… the timing added up. 

Pregnancy and birth were entirely unknown to you, and you wished someone would just give you a heads up. Joel had a daughter and no doubt had been through at least once pregnancy, and Lorenzo had mentioned 4 of his 6 older sisters got pregnant before leaving the house… something about no sex education, men too old for them, and their religion not believing in birth control or abortion… but you didn’t know what half those words meant, and after Lorenzo mercilessly made fun of you for days about not knowing Joel’s song for you was actually a very famous song, you didn’t dare ask him about the words, or anything with pregnancy. You didn’t want to ask Joel either, not wanting to give away how terrified you were, not wanting him to think you didn’t want to… But you did! You did want this baby, you reminded yourself again and again and again, because Joel was good to you, Joel took care of you, Joel would care for this baby too. You’d be bound to him, and he’d never get tired of you this way, and he wouldn’t hurt the mother of his child, right?

The birth was something you tried not to think about.

So here you were, puking your gut out before you even had breakfast and Joel held your hair back.

“Shhh, shhhhhhh” he coo’d and you heaved, yellow bile and acid coming up from inside you since the little food in your stomach from dinner had been thrown up 5 minuets ago.

With a final spit into the toilet, you sink back and Joel wipes your mouth for you. “I think that’s it.” You mutter, and Joel carries you into your shared bedroom, laying you down with the care of an infant before kissing your forehead. 

“Don’t worry about breakfast, little one. I don’t need anything this morning.” He says before kissing your cheek. But you were worrying about breakfast, because you wanted it… but the only way you’d be getting food is if you made it. Tommy wasn’t here to care for you anymore. “I’ll be gone until the evening, what's for dinner?”

The thought of cooking, the thought of raw meats and the strong smells of spices made you want to vomit again. “I dunno…”

“I think a few of them chickens is ready to be butchered, you ever made chicken parmesan? We got that cheese I brought back yesterday, you could make something like that.”

You groan a bit, exhausted and tired despite being only 3 months in. You didn’t sleep at all last night, nightmares of the past and the future plaguing you. He knew that you didn’t sleep, you had told him… “Joel I can’t, the butchering, I feel so-”

“I’ll make Lorenzo do it.” He promises. “Chicken parmesan it is then?” He decided for you. What he didn’t understand is it wasn’t just butchering a few chickens. To make chicken parm you need chicken breasts, not the rest of it. You didn’t waste meat, so Lorenzo kills (you could do it on a normal day, but not with your heightened smell) then you pluck, clean, Lorenzo butchers, then you have to separate the different parts and put them into hygienic storage and take them to the freezer locker, then thoroughly clean yourself, all the tools and surfaces (and Lorenzo) to prevent illness. It would take hours. But Joel didn’t see that, he only ever saw the food at the end of his day.

“Okay” You agree reluctantly, and he begins kissing your neck and groping you, no doubt wanting a quicky before a long day of unspeakable violence. “Joel, please, I don’t feel good.” You beg him not to, but you learned in the past that this never got far.

His morning breath wasn’t helping anything as he tugged down your shorts. “I’ll be quick.”

You knew what that meant. Joel slid into you with no prep, no lubrication, and it burned. The steady rocking was the last thing you needed right now, and with his head buried in your neck, you covered your mouth as the nausea took over. You threw up, but like everything the last several months, you just swallowed it down again to deal with when Joel was gone. When he came inside (wasn’t he worried about you getting pregnant again?) you quickly pull up your pants and run to the bathroom, pushing past Lorenzo no doubt on his way to babysitting duties with you. 

As he watched you run past and heard the sounds of throwing up, Lorenzo caught Joel’s arm as he brushed past. “Peppermint or ginger. Find it, whatever form it's in. Oils, drops, whatever. If you can find the leaves or the root we can make it into a tea. Just find it, it’ll help her nausea.”

Month 4

“Okay Lorenzo, I got a question for you, and you can’t make fun of me.” You say as you cook, the swell of your belly beginning to show now.

“No guarantees.” He says, sitting his drink. How did he find so much alcohol?

“Fine. Okay… when Joel and I have sex-”

He visibly cringed. “Since when do we talk about our sex lives?” 

“Renzo.”

“Fine, go on. But remember I’m not exactly an expert on female anatomy.”

You take a deep breath. “Okay. Well I told you he always pulls out right? Um… ever since I told him im pregnant… he doesn’t.”

Lorenzo waits for you to continue, but you don’t. You think that’s it. “What the problem?”

You continue to avoid looking at him, stirring the soup. “Well.. what if I get pregnant again?”

He stares at you like he’s trying to make sense of your question before the recognition sets in. “OH!” But before he explains what he means… his face shifts… theres something sad in there, a hint of pain in his eyes you only saw once, the face he had as he looked at you in disgust while Joel carried you from the bedroom to the bath while you were covered head to toe in spit and cum and period blood… was it pity? “Jesus kid… No one really taught you anything, did they?”

“C’mon, just tell me.”

Scrubbing his face, he sighed. “No, you can’t get pregnant while your already pregnant.”

Oh. “Wait… really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Ah. Okay then.”

There was a long, long silence before he spoke again. “If you got any other question about, like… pregnancy and birth… I can try and answer.”

Joel had been trying to find a doctor, a midwife, something for you… but it was slim pickings in Wyoming. 

Five minuets later, you were squealing, covering your ears, but laughing. “Ew! What the hell is a mucus plug! You know what, I don’t wanna-”

“IT’S A PLUG FULL OF MUCUS IN YOUR VAGINA WHAT DO YOU THINK IT IS?!?!” He yells loud enough to get past your attempt at blocking your ears. 

“NAH NAH NAH NAH NAH!!! I CAN’T HEAR YOU!” But you still could.

“Honestly in the last month or two all kinds of weird things are gonna come out of you including but not limited to a very slimey and weird looking baby.”

You gasp, feigning indignance. “How dare you insult my unborn child!”

“It ain’t personal, sweetheart. All babies look ugly as fuck as newborns. Now, let’s get back to the gritty details.”

With a squeal, you try to run away. “No! I know enough!” But you’re laughing. It felt like you were messing around with Zach back in your childhood home. 

“My sister Elaina lost like 4 teeth.”

“AAAHHHHH!”

Month 5

Joel had finally found a midwife of sorts. Well, technically, Jack did, as it was his cousin. Maura had been a nurse in the birthing wing a short time before everything went to shit and had been helping women deliver babies ever since. Initially, she told Jack to keep his mouth shut. She hated Joel and didn’t want a thing to do with him, but when no one else showed up and you were in your 5th month, she relented, purely for the sake of the innocent kidnapped girl. 

“Put the fucking gun away, Joel.” She said as she entered your room, grabbing the barrel in Joel’s hands and pointing it to the floor. “Point that shit at me again and I’m not helping your child bride.” She stared him down, head tilted up only slightly to reach his eyes. If she was intimidated by Joel, she wouldn’t

Joel glared at her, but he didn’t have many options. “If you hurt her-”

“From what I hear, you’re doing enough of that yourself. Now, you stand up against the wall and watch if you want to, but don’t interfere, and do not try to intimidate me, understood?”

You watched in awe as she stood her ground… It had been months before you had done anything of the sort against Joel, only standing up to him when Tommy’s life was in danger. Joel gave a curt nod and she turn to approach where you lay, sat up against some pillows.

A gentle smile was on her face, but it was clear she was here for business. Still, her confidence and certainty put you at ease.

“My name’s Maura, I’ll be helping deliver this baby.” She was beautiful, with long black hair and a light smattering of freckles on her face, but got straight to the point. It was clear she knew what she was doing, asking you questions you hadn’t even thought of yet and examining you. When she was done, she stood up, looking at you, not Joel. “It seems despite the circumstances-”

Joel tried to interrupt. “The fuck’s that supposed to mean”

But Maura ignored him, keeping your attention with her bright brown eyes. “Despite the circumstances, everything appears to be progressing naturally, theres no cause for concern as of right now. But you need to keep things low stress.” It was then she turned to glare at Joel, to emphasize her point.

Maura said she’d be staying near-by and Joel was paying her a hefty price for her services. When you’d go into labor, Joel was to send a man on horse to fetch her, preferably Jack, but she warned she would armed, and she’d be there shortly.

That night, Joel held you close as you discussed baby names. 

“How about Loretta? Like that singer you liked?”

Joel hums, none commital. “I always liked Dorothy, we could call her Dolly as a nickname. I know you like Dolly Parton” Joel had been teaching you about old country music, and you certainly had a few favorites. Not knowing many women in general, your pool of girl names was not strong so you drew from singers he’d mentioned. 

You scrunch up your nose a bit at that. “I like Dolly, I don’t like Dorothy.”

“It was my grandmas name, I’d really like to name our daughter after her.” His voice had that tone to it, the one that left little room to argue, but you tried to push past Dorothy.

“Maybe June? Like June Carter?” You knew how particle he was to Johnny Cash, but also... that was the name of the only friend you had before Tommy.

“That’s beautiful, little one, June it is.” He smiles into your skin, and you think you’ve won, when he says. “Dorothy June.” 

He had already decided, and there was no real option to argue or change his mind. You’d just call her Dolly, then.

You had one thing you really, really wanted for boy name, and you desperately hoped you could get it, but you couldn’t tell him why. You didn’t want any more kids so this was your only shot. You hadn’t even wanted this one, but as your stomach swelled with life, motherly love came with it and you decided you’d make the best of the situation. The child inside you was your number one priority. “Okay, boys? I really like Caleab… It’s my favorite boy name…” You didn’t have to tell him that was Zach’s middle name.

“I like it, bebita.” 

You got what you wanted. You knew Joel was hoping for a girl, so you figured he was less particular on the boy name. 

“Got any ideas for the middle name?” You ask him.

“Nothing in mind, really. I’m open…” He kisses your neck.  “Anything you want?”

You keep quiet. The name you wanted… he’d never go for.

Joel pulled you closer, nuzzling his face against you as he whispered. “Ah. I see.” You freeze. Tommy hadn’t been so much as alluded to since he barely made it out alive and you thought for sure Joel would have a fit, and you began to prepare yourself to feel a hand wrapped around your throat… But he tucked your hair behind your ear and kissed into your locks as he settled down for bed. “Caleb Thomas”

Month 6 

Lorenzo was getting on your fucking nerves today, and you were about to fling the frying pan, bubbling grease and all, at his face. 

“Will you shut up?”

“No, I’m not going to shut up because you are being fucking stupid!” Instead of his usual spot sitting at the kitchen table, he’s standing, arms crossed, in the doorway as you tried to get diner done. “I told you the first day, you are a dumb. Bitch.” he was drunk, three sheets to the wind and absolutely no filter.

“You have no fucking idea what I am! I am trying to fucking survive, Lorenzo, I am trying to keep myself and this baby-”

“You are playing housewife to a serial murder and a rapist!” He yells at you, clearly frustrated. “You are rewarding all the bad things he’s ever done you just give positive reinforcement-”

“Don’t fucking blame me! I’m not reinforcing the bad, I’m reinforcing the good!” You storm over to him, glaring Lorenzo down. “You have no fucking idea how bad things were! I used to dream about killing myself, about dying, about Joel finally snapping and doing it! I am doing the best in the conditions I have!”

“You could have left! You could have left with Zach and gone off with him for fucks sake!”

With a burst of anger you didn’t know was even in you anymore, you shove him, hard, causing the drunk to fall over. “You wanna know what he did last time I tried to run? He caught me within 10 minuets, dragged me back and chained me to this table-” You point at the table that you and Joel sit at most evenings now for diner. “And raped me in front of everyone, Lorenzo! Then he branded me and left me to be gang raped by all your little buddies here! And no one could stop him, not even Tommy! All Tommy could do is stand by and watch, and unchain me after Joel left before anyone could do anything more!”

Lorenzo was not deterred. “That’s my fucking point!”

“If I leave and he catches me, I am dead!”

Scoffing, Lorenzo rolls his eyes from where he’s slumped against the floor. “Yeah, that’s why”

Unsure how much more you can take from him, you motion him to continue.

“You just don’t wanna admit you fell in love with your rapist.”

That was enough. You begin to walk away from him, but he follows after you. 

“What about when you give birth, huh? What kind of father is he going to be? Are you going to stand by while he beats your kids?”

“SHUT UP!” You scream, still walking away. 

“And what if you have a daughter? You just gonna let him molest her like your dad-”

You wipe around so fast you don’t even have time to blink. “No, Joel isn’t like that.” 

Lorenzo laughs at you, cruel and loud. “You are 20 years younger than him, he raped you! You really think he’s above-”

“YES! He will not hurt her like that!”

“And if you have a son? Do you really wanna raise a man like Joel? The kind of man who beats and rapes innocent girls?”

Tears prickle at your eyes now, a terrible tightness in your chest bubbling with stomach bile. “N-no, that’s not gonna happen, I won’t let-”

“Oh, because you’ve had so much choice the last year, havn’t you. Sooooo much control.”

“I won’t.” You shake your head vigorously. “I won’t let anything happen to my baby, Joel won’t hurt them.”

“So, say he doesn't. You really gonna raise a kid here? Half the men here would’ve raped you, given the chance! You really think your child is safe here?”

You can’t argue with him when he’s right. But he doesn’t get it. Joel is good now, Joel protects you, Joel will protect the baby… Joel is gentle now… soft, kind… he thinks of you, he sings you songs… he plays music for you, he’ll be a good dad… You’ll be okay…

You shut down, going into autopilot. You don’t look at Lorenzo as you walk back to the kitchen to finish frying the chicken. Joel would be home soon.

Month 7

“JACK! GET MAURA!” Joel shouts as you groan on the bed, the tight contractions hurting.

“Joel, it hurts!” You call for him, and in a flash Joel is at your bedside, letting you squeeze his hand. 

“I know, little one, I know…” He pets your hair, having flashbacks to Sarah’s birth…. He wanted another girl so bad, but god, he just wanted a healthy baby and for his girl to make it out alive. Birth was dangerous in modern medicine, nonetheless a post-apocalyptic shitstorm. 

Lorenzo stood in the doorway, biting his nails. “You’re not due for another 8 weeks!”

Grunting through the pain, you let a rare bout of sarcasm slip. “Oh yeah, that’s right, never mind.”

“Could be false labor, you know? That’s called Braxton-Hicks contractions?” Lorenzo looked more nervous than you.

Joel ignored him. “It’s gonna be okay, Maura’s on her way and I think even out here 32 weeks is gonna be okay.” Joel wasn’t entirely sure about his own words. 32 weeks meant a premature baby, and pre-mature usually meant NICU… but there was no NICU to go to… if the babies lungs were under developed or anything like that, there were no options. 

Lorenzo was chewing through his nails enough to draw blood. “Or maybe it’s Braxton-Hicks”

At that, Joel finally acknowledges Lorenzo. “Okay, we get it, you know the term Braxton-Hicks, we’re all very impressed.”

“AHHHHHHH” You yell, wishing to get there was something for the pain.

Lorenzo wouldn’t shut up. “Okay, contractions are getting longer, that means your in active labor?”

“Her water hasn’t broke yet!” 

“Is she dilated?”

“Does it look like her pants are off to you?”

“Well check!”

“I don’t know how to tell! Weren’t you bragging last month you helped your sister give birth in a Walmart?”

“That doesn’t mean I know how to check if she’s dilated!”

“You know more than me!”

“I’m not sticking my fucking face between legs!”

“Oh, because you’re gay you’re suddenly scared of vagina’s?”

“What are you talking about?”

“So you’d rather let her just die?”

“DIE? Joel she’s not gonna die because I’m not looking at her fucking cu-”

“GUYS” you shout, causing both to turn and look at you. “The contractions stopped.”

There’s a moment of silence before Lorenzo speaks. “Oh. Huh. That’s uhhh… Braxton-Hicks I guess. False labor.”

As Joel kissed you that night, sex was the last thing you wanted, but you knew there was no point in fighting it.

Joel sucked on your throat, already bruised with dark marks from the night before, now sore and aching with new licks and bites, his hands roaming to expanse of skin presented before him. Gripping, feeling, pinching, tugging, some things felt good, some hurt, but that didn’t matter. He’d get you off, he always did, at night anyway, but you knew sometimes he just liked to feel you, feel what he owned.  The pain is mine. Your cries are mine, your cunt is mine. And if you bleed? Your blood is mine.

Your belly round and swollen with child, he could not hardly keep his hand off it, every time his hand traveled to explore, it quickly found itself returning to its home, never wanting to miss a kick. He slithered down, nestling his face between your legs and devouring your pussy the way he did your neck, the way he did every piece of you, body and soul and until there was nothing left but this subservient version of you, weak and obedient to his hands. He lapped you up, skilled tongue exploring through your folds only pausing to nibble at the soft skin of your thighs or kiss the round stomach above him. He felt extra possessive today, a desperate, anxious way about him as he devoured you so hungrily you wondered if he intended to eat you, swallow you whole to keep you with him forever; a communion, and you were the eucharist, a matrimony of cannibalism. 

You wanted to tug at his hair, you wanted to entangle yourself in him but your belly was in the way, so you simply laid back and enjoyed as he tongue fucked you, prodding at your entrance, his hands on the globe where your child waits to be born.

“Fuck, Joel, need you, need to cum, please.”

You beg for him, plead, and he devours. Joel knows you love when his perfect, plus lips such at your mound and your clit with long fingers fingering into you, and you yelp when they curl up and hit that spot inside you. “Keep moaning, little one, let me hear you.”

You obliged. Sometimes you wondered how sick everyone in the house was of hearing you, but they weren’t the ones you needed to please; pleasing Joel kept you alive.

“I need you inside me, please” Nudging him with your leg as you cry for his cock. “Joel, I gotta have you inside me, I need to cum on your cock, please? Please, Joel-”

A wet, sloppy sound as he detached from you, and his eyes looked just as hungry as he acted while he crawled up. “You beg so pretty, little one, such a pretty little cock whore.”

But you didn’t have time for his talking, you needed him inside you, now; the hormones of the pregnancy had a mind of their own. You take a chance and push him down, watching Joel smile as you straddle his waist. “God, I just- just need you.”

“The take me, little one, take me” 

You cry out as you sink down onto him, feeling your cunt split on him. “Fuuuck!” Sobbing, you take him fully and begin to fuck yourself on him.

“Just like that, pretty girl, fuck, taking me so well, gonna have you all stretched out to have this baby, huh? Gonna give me a child, little girl? A baby of our own? Fuck, fuck you look so pretty like this, swollen with my child, stretching your stomach as I stretch your cunt, fucking perfect, my perfect wife.”

Wife.

Wife.

Wife?!

You knew Joel was delusional… but fuck, Lorenzo was right… you were playing house wife. Joel thought of you as his wife… 

“Gonna fuck you full of my cum, again, and again, keep you constantly knocked up, make our happy little family, you and me and a dozen little kids running around, FUCK, our family, our family.”

You continued the pace, you couldn’t falter, you couldn’t slow down, you couldn’t hesitate; you couldn’t give any sort of reason for him to think you didn’t want this…

But it suddenly struck you

You were trapped. Joel trapped you with a baby, knowing you’d need him to protect it, knowing you’d never leave your child… and now he was going to keep you pregnant. You could never leave with 5,6,7 kids, it would be impossible. 

“Yeah, fuck yourself on my cock little one, just little that…” Joel reached out to touch you, roughly manhandling your tits that were swollen and engorged.

You begin to cry, but that wouldn’t give away anything for Joel; he fucking loved that shit.

One hand on your breast, one on your clit. “Cry on my cock, baby girl, cry when you cum.”

You did, you sobbed as you came, your body betraying the horrors you felt at his hands.

Month 8

“Hey Joel? Can I talk to you about something?”

You had to do it. You had to. And it had to be now. You two had fucked less than half an hour ago and he was currently eating your food, humming contently. He was always lovey-dovey after sex, and was always much happier after food… The pair didn’t line up often, so now was your chance. 

“What’s on your mind, little one? Nervous about being a mother? You’ll be a great mom; I just know it.” He smiled at you with puppy dog eyes, looking up from his plate, and you couldn’t help smiling back, not when he showered you with compliments.

“Well… you’ve said before you wanted lots of kids… but we… well this little baby was an accident.”

“A miracle, not an accident.” Joel corrected you. You didn’t see how conceiving a child the night he was threatening to blow your brains onto a wall for sleeping with his brother if you didn’t shoot said-baby’s uncle was a miracle… but you digress

“Right. Well… we never really talked about more kids… and although I’m over the moon about this baby, I did initially not want to have it.” Joel’s face began to darken, but you powered through. “Maybe we could see how we feel about one kid after a few years before thinking about-”

Joel slammed down his silverware. “What are you trying to say.”

But you freeze. This was a bad idea, you needed to placate immediately, you needed to calm him down. “N-nothing, Joel, just thinking out loud.”

He stood up, a deadly, blank stare on his face, so far removed from the adoration as he bestowed kisses on your ever-growing belly. Joel walked around the table, standing behind you and placing firm hands on your shaking shoulders, leaning into your ear. 

“You say’n you don’t want my kids? Don’t wanna be their mama? You don’t wanna be my wife?”

“No, no that’s not-” But you don’t get a chance to finish, his hand is wrapped around your throat and insane strength pulling you up and out of the chair, the wooden furniture toppled to the side in a loud clatter. He slams the back of your head against the drywall, you’re toes barely touch the ground; struggling to breath, you claw at his hand, but he doesn’t even blink.

The panic begins to set it.

“YOU ARE NOT IN CHARGE! YOU DO NOT GET TO MAKE CHOICES!” He screams, and out of the corner of your eye you watch as a few men hesitantly gather, like vultures waiting on the next piece of deadmeat. You couldn’t see who, but it didn’t matter. Even the good ones couldn’t intervene.

Joel’s face was suddenly right in front of yours. “Everything you have, any freedom, any luxuries, any power you think you have is because I have given it to you.” Black spots appeared, your vision blurring, sinking into the unknown and god, did it feel sweet. Was it finally over? “I bought you, I own you, you have no rights! You are nothing! You are nothing but a toy for me to play with, a breeding bitch and you should be so lucky to sit at my table!”

He let go, but as you gasped for breath, Joel yanked at your hair and patched you across the room, not letting go of his grasp on you as you flung into the counter. What he didn’t know, what he could never understand was how the handle of the draw rammed into the brand on your side. Suddenly, all sense, all rational went out the window, and you were violently thrust back to last year as he burned his initials into your skin. The flashbacks were triggered, and the result was nothing short of hysteria. You cry out for the only person who would step in.

“TOMMY!TOMMY!TOMMY!TOMMY!TOMMYYYY” You scream, the fact Tommy was miles away didn’t matter, nor did the fact this would only anger Joel more. This didn’t matter; you wanted him, no one but him, and all sense was knocked out of you.

Joel pulls you up by your hair and slaps you hard enough that you taste blood and screams at you to not say Tommy’s name, but you can’t stop, you scream and scream and scream for him to come save you and your baby, the precious little life inside you that has never done anything wrong. 

You fight and claw and panic, hysterics drowning out the one or two voices telling Joel to stop; who they belonged to, you couldn’t say. 

Joel stopped listening, and the voices grow louder as Joel drags you, kicking and screaming, outside; rope and a chair in his hand, your hair in the other, and Joel walked with long strides to a tree outside.

****************

YEEEEEEESSSSHHHHHHHHHHH Cliiiiiff hanger, hanging from a cliiiiiiffff thats why he's caaaaallled, Cliff Hangers!

Who else used to watch Inbetween The Lions? Anyway.

Who wanna guess what happens!

Only two chapters left!

For the sake of credit, if you didn't find the superstore reference or dont watch the show, most of the dialogue between Joel and Lorenzo and LO was between Amy and Jonah from two birth related episodes of superstore

Also, Maura is named after my dear dear friend @maura-honey who although is not generally a fanfiction girlie, made a tumblr so she could read, like and reblog this series and always sends me such lovely messages <3

Reblogs are the best way to spread and support, but comments mean the world. I know not everyone likes to share dark content on their blog, but even a kind anon is such support!

for those who voted you dont like or hate or Lorenzo, I hope that doesn't mean you hate him as n he's a bad character. I got a comment on AO3 that said "i cant tell if i like lorenzo or not, but i like him in the story" which makes sense! His victim blaming is really fucking shitty.

no poll today, sorry!

MoonBanana said they think LO copes by lying to herself until she beleives it, what do y'all think? is she as delusional as joel?

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @howaboutcastiel @tidlewav3 @bunnnyy-dummy @slutfortimotheechalamet @foggymoonbanana @dinsbaby @miraclesabound @jenna-ortega @primosworld @marclovers @threeheadedlamb @secretwriterpp @the-fox-den

@bitchyglitterfox @0bsessedwithfictionalcharacters @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @lunar-ghoulie @pedritosdarling @dreamonseems @alwaysdjarin @amoramorquetepintas @milla-frenchy

[critter-genfic-events]

This week, we have eight amazing timeskip/future fics recced! Some skip ahead a handful of decades, while some skip ahead centuries, but all of them are wonderfully heart wrenching and hit just the right spot. Check them out under the cut, and as ever, comment or kudos if you like them!

The Matter of Lot 19 by pagerunner (10102,Teen) Warnings: None Pairings:

Keyleth returns to Whitestone after many, many years to see about a unique and precious clock that's up for auction. But she's not the only one intending to bid...and her competitors might not only be interested because of the clock's connection to a certain legendary de Rolo.

Reccer says: Beautiful and Bittersweet and has a lot of great older Kiki and Sun Tree moments.

Library Magic by westwind (2739,General) Warnings: None Pairings:

After the Mighty Nein's adventuring days are over, Caleb travels with a library in an enchanted wagon. He comes across a stranger who's nevertheless familiar.

Reccer says: I liked it

The More Things Change by FinnsKeeper (4922,Teen) Warnings: Major Character Death Pairings:

Beau is hurt. The best chance they have of saving her is asking for her to be consecuted

Reccer says: A heartbreatking but fascinating take on the nein being consecuted

Unexpected and Predictable by alullabytoleaveby (2131,General) Warnings: Pairings: Verin Thelyss & Caleb Widogast

The last thing Caleb expects to hear on a rainy Tuesday evening is the sound of a knock at his door and Verin Thelyss, Ambassador of the Bright Queen to the Dwendalian Empire, on his doorstep. But he should have expected it. After all, Essek had already prepared for this eventuality.

Reccer says: I love this glimpse of Verin, and Caleb being able to explain his relationship to Essek's brother.

What Makes a Home? by literalfuckinggarbage (3188,General) Warnings: Child abuse, abusive parenting Pairings: Beau & TJ

TJ turns up on Beau's doorstep after running away from Kamordah. Beau takes care of her little brother.

Reccer says: It's really lovely seeing an older Beau step up to being an older sister and the relationship between her and TJ is incredibly sweet. They have a rapport, they banter, and the love that's grown between them over the years is plain in each word between them. The ending is so wonderful too and it's a concept I really should rotate more.

cycles by justsleepwalkin (500,General) Warnings: Major Character Death Pairings: Caduceus Clay & Essek Thelyss

Caduceus and Essek take a walk among the falling leaves and have a talk about endings and beginnings.

Reccer says: Beautiful and atmospheric - a perfect moment between the two of them.

From the Mixed-Up Files of The J. Lavorre Catalogue Raisonné by renquise (2328,General) Warnings: None Pairings:

An art history report on the famous artist Jester Lavorre

Reccer says: I adore epistolary fics and this perfectly scratches that itch. Seeing what people might say about Jester and her friends centuries after they are gone is a treat!

a little birdie told me by Ink_Beneath_Her_Fingernails (1647,Not Rated) Warnings: None Pairings:

Kiri absently wonders if the Gentleman somehow had the foresight to keep her name out of their ears, and how he'd managed it for all these years. (Or: The mob boss Kiri we all deserve.)

Reccer says: Mob Boss Kiri - what's not to love?

This is one of our weekly communally-generated gen rec lists. Every week we announce a new theme and allow anyone to submit a fic recommendation. Please note that the summary and content notes are provided by the reccer, and may be different than what the author has provided. Please assume good intentions all around. <3

And hey, anyone includes you!

Next week, we'll be featuring prank fics!

Then, it'll be Ashton focused, Hair Care, and Pre-Campaign!

Any fics coming to mind?  Well, then use this form to submit!

If you're looking for some more, check out some fics written in the critter genfic bingo tag, or the older rec lists! Or you can request your own card and join in on the fun!

[randomficrecss]

Klance Fic Rec

been so busy guys but trying to catch up i promise!!

I dreamed you were a cosmonaut (of the space between our chairs) by iybms

T | 11K | 1/1 | getting together, flirting, kissing, near death experiences, mutual pining, canon compliant

"You know, you can be a pretty hard guy to find," Lance says, and his steps end at Keith's side, overlooking Orla'an canyon.

"Funny you always say that," Keith remarks, "since you find me, regardless. And," he finally glances at Lance, "…always wearing something weird."

---

Lance comes to Keith when he needs someone to pry him open.

Nameless by AveryScribbles

E | 97.8K | 22/22 | AU college, vampires, soulmates, major character injury, angst with a happy ending, blood drinking, slowburn

Lance McClain was not pale. He enjoyed the sun as much as any other, and though he was often run down or fatigued, this was due to his amounting college work, not his need to sleep upside down. He was everything a vampire wasn't. Oh, except for his constant cravings for blood, and the name in cursive imprinted on his wrist.

Since the name had appeared on Lance's thirteenth birthday, he'd been desperately waiting for the day he'd finally meet his soulmate. And then it finally arrives, delivering a boy that causes everything Lance had fantasized to come crashing down around him. Not only is his mate a human, but he's the kind of human that despises vampires. A hunter named Keith.

But matters of the heart aren't the only thing standing in Lance's way, for a much greater enemy is on the horizon, posing a threat not only to Lance and his family, but to Keith, too. The nameless are coming for them, and soon.

just come to me once by laallomri (absolute fav fic ever)

T | 94.5K | 3/3 | fluff, angst, pining, canon typical violence, post season 6

Lance’s smile widens. He leans forward, and the prickling in Keith’s chest gives way to butterflies, fluttering wildly in his stomach, and oh wow has Lance always had this many freckles, has he always had eyelashes that long, has he—

Lance pokes his cheek, right over the Galra mark. Keith blinks.

“I can’t believe you and your mom have matching face tattoos now,” he says, and it’s so fucking dumb, but it’s exactly the kind of dumb thing Keith has longed to hear, and before he knows what he’s doing he’s surging forward, almost knocking Lance back against Red’s paw, and throwing his arms around him.

In which Keith lives on a space whale, goes on a road trip, and (eventually) gets a boyfriend.

Like the Night Falling by iybms

E | 51.9K | 1/1 | rivals to friends to lovers, slow burn, astrophysics, sexual content

Keith reluctantly takes a lead role in an outreach program that forces him outside his comfort zone of solitary work. It would be a lot easier if he and his partner in the endeavor had anything in common.

Catch Feels, Not Covid-19 by Jenanigans1207

G | 20.2K | 7/7 | quarantine AU, covid 19, falling in love, confessions, artist keith

“Well, there’s really only one option, then.” Lance says as he steps further into the room. At least he looks equally as uncomfortable as Keith feels. At least he seems to know he’s broken their boundaries.

“Really?” Keith grinds out, but his anger is deflating. The stress of the situation is starting to wear on him and he just wants it to be over. “Because as far as I can tell, there are no options.”

“You’ll just have to come home with me.” Lance says and Keith balks. He physically feels the color drain from his face as he whips his head around to meet Lance’s blue eyes. He doesn’t even get the incredulous question off of his tongue before Lance is rushing on to explain. “My family visits Cuba every year at this time and since they closed the borders, they’re stuck there until this is over. So my home is completely empty which means there will be tons of room for you, too! And it’s only a couple of hours away, so we won’t risk getting caught anywhere in the middle. And it’s free.”

-- Or:

The coronavirus shuts down Keith and Lance's college and Keith has no choice but to go into quarantine with Lance.

At the Bottom of the Ramp by iybms

T | 12.2K | 1/1 | aggressive rollerblading, strong language, minor violence, getting together, rivals to friends to lovers

Lance is usually the first person to befriend new rollerbladers at the skatepark; it's a small community, and he's a friendly guy.

But not this time. This new guy looks the epitome of edgy and unapproachable, and he's stealing all of Shiro's attention.

[kanatajelly]

illogical processes

yandere!five pebbles x reader

author's note: hello rain world fandom... i have no idea if y'all are interested in yandere fics lmao, but i love pebbles so i wrote one anyway. also reader is an ancient in this fic.

warnings: general yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, forced isolation, a lot of angst, major character death (reader)

word count: 4134

There was most definitely something wrong about all of this.

It had been so long since someone had come to visit you. Of course, it wasn’t like you weren’t used to being confined to one room for hours and even days on end, but eventually there was always someone who came to visit. Your father, or your aunt, or some of the few friends you’d managed to make in your early childhood, or even sometimes colleagues and acquaintances of your father, who would ask you of his great innovations as if you actually had any worthwhile knowledge of their inner workings.

But now it was just you.

And Five Pebbles.

“Pebbles, I’m bored,” you complained, sluggishly tossing aside a pearl you’d been turning around in your hands for the past few minutes. A pearl that you’d read over and over and over again, just like the rest of them. A sigh came from the robot suspended above you. His umbilical cable moved down the wall as he lowered himself to your level, looking you in the eyes. “Then read something. Or listen to music,” he said matter-of-factly. You glared up at him, annoyed with his response. “I’ve read and listened to everything in this room hundreds of times now,” you pointed out, your voice strained, “Can’t I go outside for once? Or talk to Big Sis Moon and the others? It’s been such a long while since you let me chat with them over communications.”

Five Pebbles mirrored your expression, although his glare contained a venomous iciness that yours lacked. “Don’t you dare say that name,” he seethed. You knew that something had to have happened between him and Looks to the Moon, since he had recently started speaking of her as if she were a horrible person (which she was not); but you had no idea what exactly had happened. Every time you tried to ask, Five Pebbles simply dismissed your inquiries. However, now that you had his full attention, you thought it’d be worth another try. “Why shouldn’t I? I love Big Sis Moon, and I miss her a lot. I know I can’t go and see her anymore, but I want to talk to her at least,” you said, trying to keep your voice as free of frustration as possible so as to not anger Pebbles too much. He avoided your eyes and mumbled something under his breath.

Tilting your head to the side, you pressed, “What was that? I couldn’t hear you.” Pebbles’ eyes darted up to yours again before he repeated, louder this time, “I said, that’s not possible.” Clenching your hand into a fist, you retorted, “Why?! Why isn’t that possible?! You never properly tell me anything, Pebbles! You never tell me about Big Sis Moon… or about my father. Why can’t I see them anymore? Where have they gone?!” Your shoulders heaved along with your breaths. You had been trying to be calm, but his constant dismissals were really starting to grate at your nerves. An odd emotion flashed in Five Pebbles’ eyes for a moment. He looked almost… guilty. But before you could properly process it, it was gone, being once again replaced by the ice-cold annoyance that always seemed to rest on his face. “You ask too many questions. I’m going back to work,” he concluded, returning to his previous position, suspended above you like some sort of god or otherwise ethereal creature.

You were silent for a while, lost in your thoughts. The only noise in the small space was the low hum of Pebbles’ operating system as he worked through his calculations as always. He really never did anything but work, did he? You wondered what he was always doing. You had faint memories of your father explaining why he built Moon and later Pebbles; something about ascension and the Great Problem. You never really understood your people’s obsession with transcending in the first place - you had other things to worry about, after all.

“Pebbles?” you tried again after around ten minutes had passed. He let out another sigh upon hearing you call him, but it wasn’t as exasperated as the last had been. “Yes?” he responded without moving from his spot up in the air. “Can I at least go outside? Just for a bit,” you asked gingerly. Pebbles put a hand to his forehead, rubbing at his temples in frustration. “There’s never an end to the questions with you, is there?” he remarked, surprisingly not sounding as irritated as you assumed he would. You pouted, saying, “Well, if you’re like me and you’re stuck in a plain-looking room for hours on end with your only company being a literal supercomputer who’s always busy and never has time for you, you would do nothing but ask questions too.” 

Five Pebbles’ shoulders twitched at your scathing words. He was quiet for a moment, before you felt yourself being lifted off the ground and towards him; a result of his gravity manipulation, no doubt. Once you were close enough to him, he tentatively placed a hand on your shoulder. The contact shocked you a bit, as Pebbles had never been the type to initiate physical affection. Even when you gave him hugs and such in the earlier days of your time together, he would simply grumble and begrudgingly accept, but never reciprocate, the contact. His next words were spoken in a very soft tone that was also out of character for him, “Look. I’ve told you this more times than I can count, and I’ll say it again. You’re sick. Going outside could potentially be dangerous for your bodily condition. Even if I send an Overseer with you, there’s no guarantee of your safety. What if you collapse and nobody’s there to bring you back to me? What if you get found and eaten by some sort of creature? There’s too many unknowns. Just stay here.”

One look at his eyes told you that Pebbles wasn’t budging on his point. Your expression fell, the little bit of hope that you felt from his unusual treatment of you having been extinguished once again. “...You used to let me out,” you murmured, “You used to let me go into the city. I want to do that again. I want to be able to see the view from the top of your superstructure again. Please, Pebbles. I can’t handle being stuck in this room anymore… Please.” His hand fell from your shoulder, instead reaching out to take your hand, but stopping halfway. “That’s not possible anymore. The city isn’t what it used to be,” he replied, his tone almost pensive. He then quickly recomposed himself before turning away from you and continuing, “Either way, I’m busy. If you have nothing worthwhile to say, I’d like for you to stop bothering me now.”

That statement was the last straw for you. “Hah, I’m always bothering you, aren’t I? If you don’t want me around so much, then why don’t you just let me die,” you spat angrily. Five Pebbles snapped his head back around to look at you. “How utterly illogical,” he retaliated, “The way your mind works is impossible for me to understand sometimes. Just do as I say and occupy your time with something other than continuously questioning me about such… ridiculous topics. As I say all the time, I am busy.” With that, he floated you back down to sit on your makeshift bed, and resumed his calculations. As per usual, when Pebbles decided that the conversation was over, you had no say in it anymore.

Your body formed a little ball on your bed, trying to hide the tears that threatened to fall from your eyes. “Things were better when I lived with Big Sis Moon,” you whispered, curling into yourself. Suddenly, the mechanical whirring of Five Pebbles’ computer processes stopped all at once, almost like he’d short-circuited. “What did you say?” he asked, his voice dangerously low. When you didn’t reply, he repeated his words, this time in a furious shout, “I asked, WHAT DID YOU SAY?!” All the electronic systems in the room abruptly flared back to life as soon as Pebbles had raised his voice. Multiple discharges of light that looked almost like thunderbolts projected out of the holographic circle which was always behind him. He was really angry this time, and it honestly scared you. You huddled further into yourself, as if doing that would put you in some sort of safe shell where Five Pebbles couldn’t harm you. 

Before either of you could say anything, a loud beeping started ringing out in the room. “Shit!” Pebbles yelled, the expression of profanity an unusual thing to hear from him, “Ugh, of COURSE you made me make an error in my processing! All of you are so absolutely unbearable! Both you, and Moon! You’re always interfering, always getting in the way!” Sticking your head out of the ball you had curled into, you softly said, “Pebbles, I’m so-” Turning to you, he screamed, “SHUT UP! I don’t want to hear anything out of you anymore!” You flinched at his harsh tone, and the tears that had been threatening to spill from your eyes all this time finally came out. As you sobbed quietly, you could hear Pebbles frantically working, trying to fix the apparent error that your interruption had caused him. He was mumbling things to himself, most of which you couldn’t hear. There was one thing you could make out, which he repeated several times, “I hope this didn’t make things any worse…”

Quite a bit of time passed after that - you honestly weren’t sure how long it had been. Pebbles seemed completely engrossed in his work, the multiple screens around the room telling you that he was computing way more parallel processes than he usually did. A thought suddenly occurred to you. Since he seemed so wholly focused on what he was doing, maybe this was your chance. Maybe, just maybe, you could finally get out of this godforsaken room.

As quietly as you could, you crawled off of your bed and slowly walked over to the wall, enough so you were right under the pipe that would take you outside. You glanced over at Pebbles. He was turned away from you. Perfect. You bent your knees to get more momentum, then jumped as high as you possibly could. With the help of the low gravity, you got about halfway up the wall. While floating in the air, you kicked yourself off the wall to further propel yourself upwards, and reached your hands above your head. When you managed to catch the edge of the exit pipe, you used all your strength to pull your body up into it. Although it took a little while and left you feeling exhausted, you eventually managed to pull yourself through the pipe and outside Pebbles’ room. Somehow, you’d done it.

Once you were outside, one look around told you that you’d gone through the wrong pipe. Instead of ending up in the access shaft that would take you on top of Five Pebbles’ can, you had accidentally taken the pipe that led to the inner workings of his superstructure. You considered going back to change pipes, but figured that it was too risky. If Pebbles had already noticed your absence and you went back in, he could use his gravity control to render you essentially immobile. Shrugging, you decided that you’d try and find another way out by going through his superstructure. As long as you avoided the dangerous-looking mechanical parts, you should be fine… right?

As you floated through the center of Five Pebbles, you marvelled at all the colours and noises that filled the large space. Sure, it was a little overwhelming, but it really emphasized the fact that you were inside the heart of a supercomputer. You could see all his neuron flies and other biological parts around you. When you reached out to catch a neuron in your hand, it felt oddly warm, almost like holding someone’s hand. It was a nice feeling compared to the cold metal that Pebbles’ puppet body was made out of. You hugged the neuron fly to your chest for a brief moment before letting it go. Suddenly, you felt awfully guilty for leaving Pebbles alone. Shaking your head, you told yourself that it was fine. You could never understand why he was always so dramatic about you leaving; it wasn’t like you’d be gone forever.

Not long after you’d started your journey, you made it out of what seemed to be the central area of Five Pebbles, and ended up in an area that sported mostly white walls, along with more biomechanical parts. This area was a lot less visually striking than the central part you’d been in before, but it was still fascinating to you. You’d never known that the inside of this superstructure consisted of so many different looking spaces. It just made you admire Pebbles all the more. Of course, this admiration also extended to your father, since he was one of the people who built all of this. You missed your father. Maybe you’d be able to see him after finding a way out, and then you could tell him that you finally understood how amazing his creation was.

Eventually, you exited the white-walled area, and moved into an area which was much darker than the other two you’d been in; although there was a dull, teal-coloured light that illuminated the chamber enough to see. The other odd thing was that this area seemed to have little blue lights along the walls, as well as blue ropes running between them. You continued downwards, wondering if those blue ropes and lights were also some of the biological parts of Five Pebbles. 

Suddenly, the entire room shook violently, causing you to freeze, before you suddenly found yourself free-falling. You let out a yelp and managed to barely catch onto one of the blue ropes before you hit a solid surface. Was the gravity on now? The teal background lighting had turned red, so maybe that signified that the zero gravity controls were disabled. That was strange… This hadn’t happened in any other part of the can that you’d travelled through. You wondered if Pebbles himself had been the one to stop the gravity, maybe as a way to prevent you from moving any further; though that theory was quickly debunked once you noted that it also prevented you from going back. Pebbles would never act that “illogically”, as he would say.

As abruptly as the first time it had happened, the room shook once again before the light turned teal, and you felt your body floating. The zero gravity was back on, it seemed. Pushing yourself off the rope you’d been holding onto, you used the momentum to propel yourself further downwards, grabbing onto another blue rope soon after to ensure you didn’t fall when the gravity turned back on, which it soon did. This was definitely strange, but you didn’t really see the point in pondering it too much. After all, you knew very little about the inner workings of the iterators; maybe this was necessary for some specific purpose. 

While you waited for the gravity to switch again, you observed the little blue lights on the walls of the room. Suddenly, one of them twitched, almost like it was alive. Your eyes widened, and you decided to look closer. That’s when you realized that these blue lights weren’t a part of the wall; they seemed to belong to fleshy, black creatures that were attached to the wall. The creatures also had stubby little tentacles that protruded from them, wiggling back and forth in the air. As soon as the gravity switched, you let go of the blue rope you’d been holding onto, now very aware that those weren’t part of Five Pebbles, but some other… thing. Whatever they were, you didn’t want to go near them. Unfortunately, as those “ropes” were the only things to hold onto in the open space (other than the occasional metal pole), you were forced to latch onto another one to avoid falling to your death once the gravity turned off again.

Something flashed in the corner of your eye. You looked to the wall next to you, only to jump when you noticed something new coming out of a section of the wall that was devoid of the weird black creatures. Your initial shock faded when you realized it was one of Pebbles’ Overseers. The little robot was projecting a holographic arrow at you, pointing up in the direction which you’d come from. It then added a little picture of Pebbles next to the arrow, obviously trying to convince you to go back to him. “I’m not going back yet,” you told the Overseer, “I want to go outside for once. I’m not leaving forever, I’ll be back at some point. I know you can hear me through this thing, Pebbles - so don’t freak out too much, okay? I promise I’ll be back.” 

The Overseer did not seem happy with your reply, shaking back and forth violently as if it were trying to say “no”. It then projected an X in the air, later adding a drawing of a mouth behind the X. “What? Are you asking me to stop talking? My god, Pebbles, you can be so annoying sometimes. I’m leaving,” you stated, propelling yourself off the blue rope you were hanging onto. Pebbles’ Overseer seemed incredibly distressed at this, and went back to trying to convince you to return to Pebbles by pointing upwards. You simply ignored it, huffing in annoyance.

Suddenly, you started to hear a squelching sound. You couldn’t really compare the sound to anything else you’d ever heard in your life, but whatever it was, it made you shudder. You looked below you to see what was producing that sound… only to see a large, spider-like creature advancing up towards you. The main part of the monster looked like the fleshy black things that lined the walls - only this one was mobile and had several long tentacles, some of which it was using to climb upwards. The tentacles that weren’t propelling the creature up were reaching up, reaching towards you. You screamed and frantically swung your limbs upwards, as if you were swimming. The Overseer pointed you upwards once more, towards a metal pole that you could use to pull yourself away from the creature. Reaching out towards the pole, your fingers barely brushed it before the room shook and the zero gravity turned off. 

As your body catapulted downwards, you tried to reach for something, anything, that you could grab onto to prevent yourself from falling into the tentacles of the terrifying black-and-blue creature. However, your efforts were in vain. You felt a tentacle wrap itself around your ankle and pull you down towards the creature’s bulbous body. “PEBBLES! HELP!” you cried out, reaching towards his Overseer. Unfortunately, his Overseer could only reach so far, and it wasn’t far enough. And what could it even do for you if it could reach you? Nothing. It was only an Overseer; its only capabilities were hologram projection and acting as a camera for its iterator.

Even as the zero gravity came back on, you were still being dragged downwards, closer and closer to the creature. As you neared it, it latched more of its tentacles onto your other limbs to stop you from struggling. Once you were close enough, it began to shove you into what you assumed was its mouth, despite being unable to see any sort of facial features on its body. First went your legs, then your hips, then your torso. It felt so painful; as if your body was getting crushed up into mush, every bone in your body slowly shattering and the remnants of your limbs being forcibly pushed together as the creature squeezed you into an easily digestible pulp. Before the creature totally consumed your head, you were able to let out one final, broken cry of Pebbles’ name. The last part of you to go was your hand, still outstretched towards the Overseer, something that couldn’t even help you in the first place. 

~~~~

After Pebbles had finally managed to correct the error that he had caused due to his anger at your final statement, he turned back towards your corner of the room, ready to apologize and smooth things over with you (as much as he didn’t want to admit his own fault). However, he was shocked to find that you weren’t there. He called your name a few times, only to receive no response. Had you somehow slipped out of his room while he was busy fixing things? “No… How could I have let them get out?!” he shouted, angry at himself. He sent a large number of Overseers out to look for you, covering every part of his can, as well as the exterior of it.

Eventually, Pebbles found you. But he found you in the worst possible place you could be in. You were in the area of his superstructure that he called “Unfortunate Development”, as it was the place where the Rot infecting him was the most virulent. He told his Overseer to convince you to come back as quickly as possible - there was no way you could survive in Unfortunate Development. He could hear you speak through the Overseer, “I’m not going back yet. I want to go outside for once. I’m not leaving forever, I’ll be back at some point. I know you can hear me through this thing, Pebbles - so don’t freak out too much, okay? I promise I’ll be back.” 

“Don’t be stupid! You’ll never get out of there alive. Come back, come back right now!” Pebbles shouted, even though you couldn’t hear him. He told his Overseer to tell you to stop speaking, as some of his observations had shown that the mobile Rot cysts reacted mostly to noise. “What? Are you asking me to stop talking? My god, Pebbles, you can be so annoying sometimes. I’m leaving,” you declared through the Overseer, then pushed yourself away from it. Shaking his head, Pebbles screamed, “No, no, NO! LISTEN TO ME!” He continued commanding the Overseer to try and convince you to come back, but his efforts were futile. There was a Rot cyst advancing towards you, and Pebbles couldn’t do anything about it. He had completely lost control over the gravity system in Unfortunate Development some time ago, so he couldn’t propel you away from the Rot cyst; and there was nothing his Overseer could do except project holograms. He could only watch as you were consumed by the Rot.

Five Pebbles had failed once again.

It was all his fault. If he hadn’t been so antagonistic towards you, maybe you wouldn’t have thought of leaving in the first place. If only he was more like Moon; kind, caring, friendly, and warm. But he wasn’t any of those things. He didn’t know how to be kind, didn’t know how to care for others, didn’t have any friends except Seven Red Suns (who he had lost by now), and he was so, so cold. If only he could have made you love him as much as he loved you, maybe this would have never happened. A little voice in his head told him that that wasn’t true. Even though he loved you, it wasn’t like he’d ever told you that. He always treated you horribly too, locking you inside his room with no entertainment other than the pearls that you’d read or listened to over and over again until even they became a source of boredom.

The mechanical whirring that rang out through Pebbles’ room became almost inaudible as he slowly paused or shut down all the processes he’d been working on, as well as all the Overseer camera feeds. They didn’t matter anymore. Nothing did. He’d gotten so used to your presence, and now that you were gone, potentially even dead, Pebbles couldn’t bring himself to do anything. Even if you somehow weren’t dead and you did reincarnate into the next cycle, why would you ever come back to him? There was no way you would. After all, why would you want to be with someone who kept you locked in a tiny room for cycles on end? Pebbles sank to the bottom of his chamber, his legs hitting the floor and putting him in a hunched-over sitting position. He hid his face in his hands; he was sure that if he could cry, he would be right now.

Now he really had nothing.

He was all alone.

Just as he deserved.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hi friend! Do you have any fics that have Sherlock with bpd, and NOT just other disorders like sociopathy? Thanks a lot Xx

Hi Nonny!

I've only got a couple of fics tagged on my MFL list with "bipolar":

Save Me or Let Me Drown by GubraithianFire(E, 72,986 w., 16 Ch. || Shameless AU || Dysfunctional Family, Alcoholism, Recreational Drug Use, Angst, Humour, Clubbing, Bipolar Disorder, Custody Battle, Mutual Pining, Family Fluff, Smut, Handcuffs, Anal Sex, Shower Sex, Rimming, Come Shot, Angst With Happy Ending) – How Sherlock escaped from his family, John sacrificed everything to his, and how, together, they built their own. Part 1 of the The Watsons series

Four Corners of the Western World Series by pennypaperbrain (E, 100,490 w. across 5 works) – Bipolar Disorder, Guns, Minor Character Death, Post-TRF, BDSM, Dom!John, Sub!Sherlock, Mental Health Issues, Depression, Mania, Suicidal Thoughts, Psychological Drama) – Undercover after Reichenbach, tracking the snipers who threatened his friends, Sherlock has one thing left he can depend on: his mind. But when he faces making his first kill, alone among the mad excesses of Las Vegas, the pressure turns out to be greater than even he can endure without John beside him.

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But I also have some with the semi-similar tag of Asperger's... I KNOW they're not the same though I think they will be close to what you're looking for.

APOLOGIES if I erred in a recommendation. I don't know a lot about BPD and only mean to rec stories:

The Crossed Wires of Sherlock Holmes by jackotah (T, 3,101 w., 1 Ch. || Autistic / Asperger’s Sherlock, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Sick Fic, Fluff, Allusions to Past Abuse / Alcoholism, Injury, Caring John) – Sherlock's eyes flicked up to his with intention. The action always made something inside of John flinch. It didn't come naturally or comfortably for Sherlock, that much was clear. It was a very carefully learned skill, and Sherlock could wield it like a weapon.

The Rainbow Connection by honeybee_motorcyles (M, 13,161 w., 7 Ch. || Post-TRF, Autistic Sherlock, American Road Trip, Understanding, Communication, PTSD Sherlock, Regression, Aspergers, Angst and Fluff) – A Road Trip is the best cure for Sherlock and John's relationship.

Nothing Made Me Series by jackotah (E, 18,323+ w. across 8 works || Series WiP || Autistic / Asperger’s Sherlock, Injury, Fluff, Allusions to Past Abuse, Developing Relationship) – Sherlock's eyes flicked up to his with intention. The action always made something inside of John flinch. It didn't come naturally or comfortably for Sherlock, that much was clear. It was a very carefully learned skill, and Sherlock could wield it like a weapon.

A Penny Dreadful by Popcornjones (E, 36,551 w., 12 Ch. || Post-S3, Fluff, Angst, References to Drugs, First Kiss/Time, Virgin Sherlock, Memory Loss, Asperger's Sherlock, Hurt/Comfort, Asexual Sherlock, Bottom Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Established Relationship, Top John, Bisexual John, Friendship, Angry John, John-centric) – John wakes in hospital having lost his memory – how does Sherlock explain their life together? "...he was tall. OF COURSE he was tall. Why couldn't John have a short boyfriend?! (Or a girlfriend! John thought rebelliously. Why couldn't I wake up with a beautiful woman telling me we were TOGETHER together?!)" A little bit of everything - hurt John, action John, soft John, wanker John, their first time together, the (hopefully not) last time they were together, the whole love story we all love so much and the truth about Major Sholto.

Pain Management 2 by TheGracefulBlueCat (M, 44,610+ w., 16/? Ch. || WiP || S4 Canon Compliant, Missing Scenes, Hurt Sherlock, Hurt John, Hospitals, Drug Use, Self-Harm, Doctor John, High  Sherlock, Bed Sharing, Crying, Asperger’s / Autism Spectrum Sherlock, Dissociation, Forehead Touching, Friendship) – These are missing scenes from Season 4. This one deals with mental and physical agony, guilt, distress and sorrow. Pain-centric missing scenes. Part 3 of the Pain Management & Missing Scenes series

A Goose Quill Dipped in Venom by Polyphony (M, 52,748 w., 16 Ch. || Celebrity John AU || Alternate First Meeting, TV Host John, Supermodel Mary, Character Death, Mystery, Romance, Case Fic, First Kiss/Time, Meddling Mycroft, Drug Abuse, Doctor John, PDA, Deductions, POV Sherlock, Toplock, Sexual Tension, Angry/Rough Sex, Hopeful Ending, Asperger’s Sherlock) – Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective, is called in to a very ordinary although brutal murder. Something is badly out of tune with the whole scenario and Sherlock finds himself becoming more and more obsessed with the crime - and also with the victim.

To Be Human by ohlooktheresabee (NR, 78,437 w., 13 Ch. || Post-THoB, Graphic Violence, Synesthesia, Case Fic, Serial Killers, Kidnapping, BAMF John, Sherlock is a Mess, Asexuality/Demisexuality, Torture, Protective John, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Medical Procedures, Queerplatonic Relationships, Asperger Syndrome, Thriller, Insecure Sherlock, Touching, Caring John, Affection, Hurt Sherlock, Touch Starvation) – There is a serial killer on the loose with a penchant for collecting the brains of his victims. Sherlock, John and Scotland Yard are on the case, but something about the chosen victims has Sherlock on edge. While they piece together the clues that will lead to the killer, John begins to realize that the way his best friend thinks may sometimes be more a hindrance than a help...

A Long Walk Down a Dusty Road by sgam76(T, 143,091 w., 49 Ch. || S4 Fix It, OMC, Holmes Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues, Implied / Referenced Alcohol Abuse, Psychological Trauma, Implied Child Abuse, Anger Management, Aftermath / Recovery, Autistic / Asperger’s Sherlock, Angst, Mind Control) – John Watson has survived bad parents, war, tragedy and Sherlock Holmes. He's damaged, and freely admits it--admits that, often, his coping mechanisms have been almost as bad as the things that made them necessary. Some of it is his own fault--but some of it isn't. And some of it makes John dangerous, to his friends and to himself. Part 7 of Scheherezade 'verse

The Chemist by TheGracefulBlueCat (M, 158,385 w., 46/? Ch. || WiP || TLD Fix-It, Drug Use and Withdrawal, Hurt/Comfort, Doctor John, Protective Mycroft, Sick Sherlock, Medical Procedures, Grief/Mourning, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Nightmares, Mental Health Issues, Victorian Sherlock, Asperger’s Sherlock, Sherlock Is Not Okay, Papa Lestrade, Drunkenness, Autistic Sherlock, Synesthesia, Insecure Sherlock, Angst, Sick Fic, Case Fic, Asylums) – Sherlock returns to Baker Street and faces detox. But he feels too exhausted and bad to go through it fully conscious, so he - once more - uses his mind palace to distract him with an old case. But due to his drug issues and the tension between him and John things don’t work as smoothly as everyone hoped they would, confronting Sherlock and all his friends with more of their demons than they would have liked to.

Define Vulnerabilty by TheGracefulBlueCat (T, 240,606 w. 97 Ch. || Canon Compliant, Aftermath of Torture, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Scars, Sherlock's Violin, Doctor John, John is a Good Friend, Flashbacks, Case Fic, Sedation, Sherlock is a Mess / Not Okay, Nightmares, Big Brother Mycroft, Asperger's Sherlock, Fainting, Sherlock's Mind Palace, Triggers, Panic Attacks, Hurt Sherlock, Suicidal Ideation, Blood and Gore, Drugs / Drug Use, Helpless / Vulnerable Sherlock, Protective John, Painful Repressed Memories, PTSD Sherlock, Medical Procedures, Drugged Lestrade, Lestrade Whump, Drugged Sherlock, Recovery, Crying Sherlock, Dissociation, Forehead Touching) – Shortly after Sherlock's return John realises something is very wrong with his friend. He, Greg and Mycroft try to help Sherlock as he falls deeper and deeper into the abyss called PTSD. But Sherlock is not ready to allow anyone in, but then the events of the current case cause him to hit bottom hard. Part 8 of the Lessons in Friendship series, Part 1 of the Hiatus series

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PLEASE if you guys have any BPD fics for Nonny, please let me know!!! I would love to suggest them!