#i wish that someone would just tell me what to do
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Ot13 reaction on how many kids SVT would have?
how many kids svt would have:
seungcheol probably wants to have two at least. i can picture him having a baby girl and then getting too excited once his partner is free from the whole post partum thing and getting them pregnant again right afterwards. he would really wish for a baby boy then.
jeonghan would love to have two as well, and i can see him having twins - i don't know why, something in him just screams FATHER OF TWINS to me. probably two girls? it's a lot of work though, he'll be done with having kids, would probably even do the surgery so he can't have any anymore.
joshua is very similar to seungcheol to me, would probably have a boy and then get too excited and have a girl because his dna is just good like that. the prettiest kids to ever exist actually, and he's so in love with them that it can be quite easy to talk him into having another one after a few years.
junhui screams boy dad to me, so yeah. i can see him having only one child, a really savage boy just like minghao was back in the day? weird but in a good, chomical way. he would be really good friends with his kid, like a partners in crime type of relationship.
soonyoung... oh, soonyoung. he says he wants to have lots and lots of kids because he loves having his house full but after the first one - a baby boy -, he gets so tired that he actually apologizes to his mom. might slip or be talked into having another one (he just wants his kid to have a relationship like the one he has with his sister); would really hope for a girl then, would probably get another boy though.
wonwoo is a definitely a girl dad too. he would really hope for a boy (i don't know why, i just feel like he would) but then it comes a baby girl and he turns into mush for her. such a goner, i can't even begin to describe - she can tell him to stay put for 20 whole minutes while she pretends to make tea and he won't move a muscle, just stay there and watch her because she told him to. would probably just want one.
jihoon is a girl dad and i will die on this hill. he's also a goner for his girl, he's very strict with things but also he doesn't like to be rough to her so he's just, i don't know, the perfect balance? most likely to be the favorite parent and learn about his daughter secrets before his partner because she just trusts him like that. would also just want one.
seokmin would love three - the first one (a boy) is probably planned; the second one (a girl) is probably an expected accident as he doesn't mind having sex without protection even though he knows the risks; the third one (another boy) is probably an unexpected accident that he cries in joy when he sees for the first time. he would definitely tell his partner "i'm so glad we got drunk that night" while seeing his two oldest children ganging up to change the new baby's diaper.
mingyu definitely wants two kids, he loves his sister too much and knows how a sibling relationship can literally save someone. most likely to have two girls, and his partner might ask him if he isn't sad that they didn't have a boy but he's too busy to answer as he's teaching the girls how to make ramyeon :(
minghao already said himself, he's not the one who gets to decide how many kids he and his partner will have, but he wants two - and can be bend into having a third one. i can see him having a boy and then a girl, and if he and his partner decides for another one, then it would be another girl, probably.
seungkwan would have two girls and his dramatic ass would say it's karma because what do you mean he grew up with his older sisters and now he has to take care of yet other two girls who will bicker and gang up on him just like his sisters did? behind that facade though he would love to take care of them and to see them grow together. most emotional dad, for sure.
vernon is a boy dad to me and he would say he only wants one kid but then he sees him growing up on his own and don't get me wrong, the kid is totally fine with it, but vernon can't stop thinking about how sofia changed his life and he would go "yeah, we might need another one" to his partner. makes a whole deal about it when he finds out his second child is gonna be a girl. "REALLY, WHAT ARE THE ODDS?"... but it's not that hard, vernon. i'm glad you're happy though, i know you love your kids.
chan is also a boy dad and he would probably want another kid but once he realizes how much work and effort it takes, he's sticking to just one. if his partner ever wants another one they would have to really talk him into it, might even need to ask seokmin for help, because chan would stand his ground and say no. but honestly? he's a loverboy, at the end he might just say yes and then meet his cute little daughter and be like "oh my god, why didn't we make her sooner?"
#seventeen reactions#seventeen x reader#seventeen x you#seventeen imagines#seventeen headcanons#seventeen drabbles#svt reactions#svt x reader#svt x you#svt imagines#svt drabbles#svt headcanons#svt scenarios#svt fluff#seventeen fanfics#scoups#yoon jeonghan#joshua hong#wen junhui#hoshi#jeon wonwoo#woozi#d.k#dokyeom#kim mingyu#the8#xu minghao#boo seungkwan#chwe vernon#dino
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My first thought at hearing horror described as "a predatory force seeking out the exposed and vulnerable elements of society" made me think of a movie about a monster tormenting people who refuse to be vulnerable and at the end the "final girl" has vulnerability but must spend a highly uncomfortable eternity with the monster.
But then I realized that while that would make a good horror movie, it would just be the flip side of the coin of horror movie avoidance. The audience then simply gets "action movie"-like gratification where the victims have to open up and be vulnerable and laughs in schadenfreude when they fail at this task. It could be good horror, but it wouldn't challenge its target audience, who don't relate to the victims in the film. The audience would side with the monster, and watching the predation with a certain level of emotional detachment. "Ahaha, that frat bro couldn't show vulnerability, go get him". This could be a fun movie, but it's not a template for the appeal of horror. And people who don't want to be vulnerable in that particular way can become more entrenched in their mindset, because the film isn't just victimizing (people like) them, it mocks its victims, it addresses the audience as people superior to those victims.
If, say, a slasher movie features a bunch of frat bros who never open up to each other, this doesn't reflect real vulnerabilities of frat bros, who IRL do tell each other pretty harrowing stories and show emotional vulnerability in the right social setting -- the reason shitty men bully emotional or "weak" men in group settings is cishet patriarchal pecking order / violence. These guys do all these weak and emotional things all the time, just under the "right" pretense. So a horror film where frat bros are killed for being repressed kind of misses its mark as social criticism.
But even if the film killed frat bros or karens or other groups of privileged people who either repress something or hide a violent underbelly of their group, a challenging horror film walks a fine line.
Any horror film that simply *gives them what they deserve*, say a slasher film where frat bros die one-by-one as the monster seeks out guys who aren't, as prev put it "reduced to tears", is wish-fulfillment for an audience critical of frat bro culture. Like I'd get a kick out of it, I think such stories should be told and I'll watch at least a few of them, but I know deep down that I'm watching something that doesn't actually affect me. Don't misunderstand me: I don't think entertainment needs to be pure. I don't think it needs to teach valuable lessons. But since people above are discussing the kind of infantile mindset where someone basically doesn't like about horror the very thing that makes it horror (the helplessness) I can't but mention that to really get audiences to experience helplessness, you need *them* to actually feel helpless. So watching some Karen who totally deserves to get chopped to bits feel helpless ...only works if *you're* a Karen like that yourself -- and even then might not work if you rightfully(?) suspect this entertainment was made by other people to make fun of you or feel superior to you.
Schadenfreude (enjoying the damage others face) is absolutely a viable ingredient for entertainment: but absurdly, it's an ingredient for a feelgood movie. A morality play that preaches to the choir.
This is one reason why trans women and people with physical disfigurements have been so attentive to transmisogyny and ableism in horror. Because in both cases, the mainstream has been making feelgood movies where the monster is Other and people can feel superior to that form of otherness. They can pat themselves on the back for thinking that disfigurement makes someone monstrous or uncomfortable or undesireable or disgusting. A disfigured monster's body would not be half as ableist if it wasn't part of a sort of morality tale feelgood movie, where bad people get what they deserve and good people go rewarded. Giving the disfigured monster more sympathy effectively doesn't just muddle the ableism, but also muddles the predation and violence of the monster. Which won't really make sense to the audiences who wanted a morality play to feel better about themselves but also--- morality plays are a part of horror, but they are kind of like decaf coffee. It's horror without the helplessness of horror.
Even a film with an amoral ending, like Cabin in the Woods, is basically just defanged horror, it's an action comedy with horror tropes and weird sci-fi and fantasy elements. The amoral ending (just letting the world get destroyed) is cool and entertaining, but this is definitely a feelgood film.
If someone wants to make a film about unavoidable pain and suffering, then they can't shy away from actually inflicting that fictional pain and suffering on their fictional characters. And if that movie is meant to avoid the thing where wealthy suburbanites are victims of the murder doll or demon home invasion or whatever, if you want to show the vulnerability of homeless people for example...well then you can't shy away from portraying the futility of their attempts to get help.
Feelgood films (both the Action Horror movie and the Schadenfreude Morality Play) have their place in the world of storytelling and can say interesting things. But the impulse to always want "soft" horror is maybe partly due to how effective it can be, as a genre, to actually make people live through helplessness and unavoidable pain. I don't think the last type is more legitimate, but I do think, especially when it deals with marginalized pain or deals with privileged pain in a way that truly hits its mark, people will tend to not want to watch it.
It's not uniquely American for people to not want to get to close to this sort of pain. It seems like the product of neoliberalism: even the most victimized people in the poorest countries are told that what truly matters is their authenticity, their integrity. Labour is increasingly expendable, people can easily lose everything... and so they are being comforted with the idea that at least they *are themselves* (hence why I'm always trying to define being trans not as "who I am, who I truly am inside" and more in terms of "my freedom of association and self-definition is being taken from me, using biology as an excuse". When people want to *be themselves*, experiencing a story where they have to be vulnerable can be incredibly difficult.
I'm still not sure why rich people applauded "Parasite" -- did the film fail on some level, or did they shield themselves from the film's message -- and I can't say what the magic ingredients are to make a story impact its target audience. Parasite, though, is about poor people told from their perspective -- and rich folks are the Other. So maybe that explains its muted effect: Like that social media post about bullies at school cheering on Dumbo the elephant beating up his bullies. This is the story of Dumbo, audiences cheer Dumbo on because they like him. They aren't vulnerable to the critique of Dumbo or Parasite, because the hero isn't a bully like them. And bullies are fundamentally unsympathetic as characters. Audiences tend to want them to die.
I think a really psychologically effective horror film is one where the protagonists are people the audience relates to, who do bad things that the audience somewhat dislikes but can find understanding for and where the antagonist isn't a bringer of morality, but simply a force of destruction. Where the core defining aspect of the monster isn't how clearly it reflects some real-world problem, but how relentlessly it pursues its tastes or agenda. The monster(s) acts like a real-life problem in its horrific effects, but it isn't allegorical. Or at least not allegorical for an issue near and dear to the audience's heart. But I'm not sure how much horror can actually cause audience introspection. I don't think we can fully expect entertainment to hit the mark on that. People watch entertainment for the fun of it -- if someone wants entertainment to be transformative, they need to take notes from entertainment that appears to have a genuinely transformative effect (like "A Short Film About Killing" which supposedly ended the death penalty in Poland or "Jaws" which supposedly caused a temporary shark murder spree).
But regardless I think it makes sense to realize that horror films that make the audience feel smart for avoiding bad things and horror films that harrow the audience with inescapable horror are pandering to different desires and are, in a sense, different genres. If you know that, you have a better grasp on how to design your own stories or how to recommend stories you come in contact with.
people are so mean about horror movie victims like. sorry but if i had gone to a cabin in the woods with my friends as a teenager you couldn't have stopped us from reading aloud from the evil tome. how were they supposed to know the ancient curse was real they're like 17
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It’s lonely at the top
Part 1 | part 2 | here / final part
Read on Ao3
wc 1,698 | Steddie | angst with a happy ending!
“You need to give him some space,” Robin said over the phone. Eddie frowned. It’s been three days. He missed Steve. He nearly leaped over the couch to answer the phone, assuming it was him. Robin was the next best, he guessed. “You really hurt him.”
“I know,” Eddie said. “And I’m sorry. I really am. Will you tell him I’m done with the parties? Done with Trick? He means more to me than being liked.”
“Yeah,” Robin huffed. “You sure showed him that.”
“I mean it,” Eddie said honestly. “I do. I’m done with it all.”
“I think you need to tell him that yourself,” Robin said.
“How can I?” Eddie asked. “You won’t let me talk to him.”
“He doesn’t want to talk to you,” Robin corrected. “You need to let him be ready to accept you.”
Eddie sighed, pressing his forehead against the cabinet where the phone hung. He wished there was a way to tell Steve how sorry he was. As much as Eddie wanted to take the Green line to Robin’s dorm and talk to Steve, he can’t cross that boundary. But he needed a way to pour out his emotions, to let Steve know that he’s loved. That Eddie’s sorry. “Can I — Can I send him a letter? That way when he’s ready, he knows I’m there for him?”
There was silence on the other line as Robin thought it over. “Yeah, okay,” she said. “Just address it to me. He’s not …”
“Supposed to be there,” Eddie nodded. “Yeah. I figured. Thank you, for being there for him.”
“Yeah. Look,” Robin huffed. “If he does let you back in again, and you fuck up again. It’s your balls, Munson.”
“Understood,” Eddie said. “I promise. Never again.”
Robin hung up with a click. Eddie sighed, running his hands over his face. He fucked up. Bad.
He guessed there was no time to start writing like the present.
💌💌💌💌
“Steve, someone at table 13 requested you personally,” Jenny, the hostess said. “He’s — uh — a little scary. So if you have issues, get Rod.”
“Thanks, Jenny,” Steve said, pulling his order book from his apron. He wasn’t sure who would request him at 3 pm. Most of his early birds on Saturdays stop by the diner for brunch and he barely saw a soul until 5.
When they first moved out to Chicago, Steve had no clue what he was going to do for work. He was attending Harold Washington College to get his associates in early education, and then potentially apply to UIC. Then one day, he got off a stop too early and saw the help wanted sign. It was easy for him to pick up, he made decent tips, and it worked with his schedule well. Plus, he was able to take home food at the end of his shift.
Robin’s been enjoying the pancakes lately.
Plus, Steve loved when it was slow and Eddie would —
He closed his eyes, letting the thought disappear. He missed Eddie. His heart ached any time he thought about him. But he was afraid that Eddie didn’t miss him in the same way.
He took a deep breath and plastered on a fake smile as he greeted his table.
“Hi, welcome in. I’m Steve. I’ll be taking care —“ Steve stopped as he looked at the patron. He felt his lips turn into a frown. “Trick?”
“Patrick’s fine,” Trick winked. “I mean, we’re in your court, aren’t we?”
“Yeah, sure,” Steve nodded. He pressed his lips together, feeling like he couldn’t stop staring at the black and blue circles under his eyes. “What happened to your — uh —“ he gestured to his own face. He winced. Trick didn’t like him in the first place. He wouldn’t give Steve the time of day. Why would he bother to tell him about an injury like that. “Sorry — shouldn’t have asked that. What can I get started for you?”
“Your boyfriend, actually,” Trick smirked. It was like ice water was dumped over Steve as the words washed over him. Trick’s smirk dropped. He leaned over the table. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Hey — hey, sorry. I didn’t mean — It’s cool. It’s — Eddie and you — are cool, I mean.”
Steve wasn’t sure if he felt any better or worse. All he could say was, “Oh.”
“Yeah, uh —“ Trick ran his fingers over his buzzed hair and exhaled. “Half of our friends are gay or lesbian or queer. It’s — that’s fine. Promise.”
“Oh,” Steve repeated. He sat on the other side of the booth, across from Trick. “Okay.”
“I just —“ Trick looked up to the ceiling before turning his attention back to Steve. “We shouldn’t have judged you. We saw you and immediate thought you were gonna be some straight jackass like we’ve dealt with our whole lives. We built this community of accepting outcasts, and outcasted you while doing so.”
Oh.
Steve wasn’t sure what to think.
When Eddie and him started to date, the Corroded Coffin boys treated him similarly. But Eddie called them out on that before it got bad.
Before it got like this.
“I guess what I wanted to say was sorry,” Trick said. “For pushing you out. And name calling.”
Steve furrowed his brow. “I don’t recall any name calling?”
“Yeah, you weren’t around for that,” Trick winced, gesturing to his nose. “Eddie made sure I knew that was wrong.”
“Eddie,” Steve breathed. “My Eddie?”
“Yep,” Trick said. “I hope he gave you a big apology for everything. So, tell me. What do you got that’s good to eat here?”
Steve took Trick’s order — one strawberry milkshake and an order of fruit loaded French toast — sent it to the kitchen, then went into the bathroom. He shut the door behind him and pulled out Eddie’s letter from his apron pocket. The first letter arrived last Monday. And he received a letter every day that he’s stayed with Robin.
With a shaky breath, Steve opened the letter.
💌💌💌💌
Dear Steve, there’s nothing in the world that I can do to make this up to you. But I will try every day to make sure that you don’t ever forgotten again. You are the stars that light my way home, the sun that brings warmth into my light, and the moon that shines love over me. To experience your love is something truly unreal. And to think I put you on the back burner for a taste of popularity? It was like the Ring of Power overtook my mind. I got lost in the feeling of being admired by many, I forgot what it’s like to be loved by one. I’d travel to Mordor and back for you. Through the Gap of Rohan and through the Mines of Mora.
In a world where everyone could know my name, I’d only want to know yours.
My apologies will never be enough. Love, Eddie
💌💌💌💌
I hope you are well. I hope your classes are going good and that you’re excelling. I know you are. You’re so fucking smart, you blow me away with every new piece of knowledge you brought home. I hope that basketball at the YMCA is going good. I’m sorry I missed your last couple of games. There is no excuse. I hope one day you’d allow me to be by your side again, cheering you on.
You deserve the world, baby. Nothing will stop me from showing you that. Everything from the water in the rivers to the trees in the forest. From the canyons in Arizona to the mountains in Colorado. It’s yours. It’s all yours. You deserve everything. You deserve the best. And I promise that I will prove that.
Forever in love, Eddie
💌💌💌💌
I’d move heaven and hell
Just to see you smile again
Or remember how it felt
To have you in my arms
When I begged God for mercy
In the depth of hells
It was nothing compared
To begging for the mercy of you
To hear you laugh, to see you smile
To counting the stars across your skin
To pick up where we left off
To start all over again
I’d move heaven and hell for you
💌💌💌💌
Steve folded the letters, slipping them back into the envelope and set them on his nightstand.
He laid back down, turning to his side. Eddie’s side of the bed was empty. Like it has been for four days.
After Steve read the first letter, he found his way back to their apartment. Eddie was hope and nearly wrapped his arms around Steve, stopping as if there was an invisible barrier in between them. Eddie stopped, respecting that boundary at the threshold.
It was Steve to crack.
Steve who took that step over the threshold and fell into Eddie’s arms, burying his face into Eddie’s neck. Eddie wrapped his arms around Steve, holding him tight. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” was all Eddie could say.
They agreed they needed to slowly integrate back into each others’ lives. Communicate when they’re feeling alone and listen when one’s feeling distressed. Nightmares seemed easier to deal with, but they were going to work it through.
Eddie said he would sleep on the couch until Steve was ready for him. “No matter how long it takes, sweetheart,” Eddie said, pressing a kiss against Steve’s knuckles. “When you’re ready for me, I’m here.”
And Eddie truly meant that. They could go back to just friends and Eddie would accept it. He would be heartbroken, but to have Steve in his life again?
That’s worth everything to Eddie.
Eddie was jostled awake, feeling the couch cushion shift underneath him. The blanket on his body lifted up and a familiar weight settle on his chest. He felt at home again. Eddie tugged the blanket back over the both of them, one hand around Steve’s waist and the other tangled in his hair as Steve laid his head on Eddie’s chest. Eddie pressed a kiss to Steve’s temple, taking a silent vow to never lose him again.
“Goodnight, sweetheart.”
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dealer!chris x dealer!reader
💸 content warning: smut/angst (in later chapters; this one's mostly just suggestive), mentions of hard drugs and guns, enemies to lovers, slow burn
💸 summary: you and chris spend the night hanging out on his roof after your first day of making sales together.
there will be several parts to this story, and they will contain sex, drugs, violence, use of weapons, and a lot of things that could be triggering if you've ever been apart of the drug world or loved someone with an addiction. i don't mean to glorify drug use, selling, or anything like that, but i wanted this story to be realistic, so it does appear like a somewhat "glamorous" lifestyle to chris and the reader in the first few parts. i want to make it very clear that when you get involved in the drug world in real life, you usually end up in one of two places: the ground or prison.
WHEN SPARKS FLY
chapters: | intro | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |
The sun sank slowly below the skyline, and the evening turned to nightfall as you and Chris finished up your last deal of the day. You'd been showing him all the stops, introducing him to your customers, and teaching him the way you did everything.
He got into your passenger seat and sighed as his head fell against the headrest, really wishing he had a joint right about now. "Damn, ma. I can't believe how much money we made today," Chris mumbled, slouching down into his seat. He reached into his pocket, pulling out the wad of cash he'd made for the day.
"I know, and we're only a third of the way through the product," you smiled back, doing the math in your head about the potential profit. "I could never work a 9 to 5," Chris sighed, sifting through the $100 bills. "Can't believe I just made in a day what it would take some sucker to make in two weeks at some office job."
You fastened your seatbelt and turned the key in the ignition, admiring Chris, who brought his fingers to his lips and slowly licked them as he separated the crisp hundreds. "What are you thinking about, ma? My tongue or my fingers?" Chris flirted, catching you staring out of the corner of his eye and giving you a seductive smirk as he ran his tongue along the pads of his fingers again, flitting through his money.
You squeezed your thighs together as you bit down on your lip. For a moment, you were thinking about both at the same time. You hated the effect he had on you, the way he knew how to get inside your head, intrude on your thoughts, and invade your sexual fantasies. "You're fucking gross, Chris," you replied, rolling your eyes and trying to hide how turned on you were.
He responded with a chuckle, knowing that he was getting to you even if you wanted to deny it. "So, am I dropping you off at your girlfriend's house?" You asked, reminding him that he had one. "Nah, can you drop me off at my place? I'm staying home tonight," Chris requested. "I can do that. Just tell me where to go," you replied, your eyes darting around between the road in front of you, your side mirrors, and your rearview.
"So, have you told Daisy yet?" You asked, your gaze flickering over at Chris, who was shaking his head. "I'll tell her, ma, when I'm ready," Chris grumbled. He knew you were right. He knew he had some things to work out, like telling his girlfriend the real way he made his money or dealing with the fact that he was finding himself sexually attracted to his new business partner. He stole another glance at you from your passenger seat as the fantasy he'd had the night before flashed through his mind, praying you wouldn't notice the tent forming in his jeans.
When you pulled into Chris' driveway, he thanked you again for the ride. "I can't believe I've been sober for eight hours," Chris mentioned, bouncing his leg as you parked. "No wonder you've been so uptight today," you teased him. "Maybe you should come smoke with me since you're always uptight," Chris smirked, nudging you in the arm with his elbow, but his offer was genuine.
You gave him an annoyed look, but you couldn't hold back the smile that spread across your lips. "I don't smoke weed, Chris. I haven't since I was a teenager," you replied, fidgeting with the material of your black steering wheel cover. "Why not?" Chris wondered, surprised by your admission. "I like being clear-headed. I don't like feeling out of control," you shrugged.
"We're on a floating rock in space, ma. The idea that you have control over anything is an illusion," Chris laughed, reaching for his door handle. "C'mon. Come inside. Do you drink? I've got a beer with your name on it if you wanna hang out with me for a little."
You were quiet for a second. It wasn't often that people invited you to hang out or just do something fun with them, and for a moment, you thought maybe you could use it. "I could stay for one beer," you responded hesitantly, nervously rubbing the back of your neck. "That's what I'm talking about, ma. Let your hair down once in a while," Chris replied, beaming with a smile.
You trailed behind him, staring down at your shoes as you followed the pattern of the stepping stones that led to his front door. "Oh, shit. I forgot my house key at Daisy's place," he sighed, running his finger through his hair. You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest. "Do you need me to take you to Daisy's place after all?" You huffed, slightly annoyed at the situation.
"Nah, it wouldn't do any good anyways. She's at work. Plus, this won't take long," Chris said, pulling a pin out of his pocket and fiddling with the lock. You nervously looked around, worried someone was going to see him picking his lock and call the cops or something, but in a matter of seconds, you heard a click, and you watched as he turned the knob. His door creaked open, and he glanced back at you with a mischevious smile.
"Okay, now you're just showing off," you replied, raising an eyebrow. "What can I say, ma? I'm good with my hands. Gotta show you my skillset somehow," Chris playfully winked at you. You scoffed, biting back a smile. A part of you liked the way he couldn't keep himself from making sexual innuendos and flirting with you.
"If you need me to pick a lock on a deal, though, you're splitting the money 50/50 with me," Chris told you, stepping into his living room. "What kind of shady shit do you think I'm up to, Chris? I'm just selling coke. Not robbing people," you joked, following him in. "You never know," Chris peeked back at you over his shoulder with a smirk on his face.
"This is it," he announced, raising his arms to present his place to you. It was a dimly-lit, relatively small place, but it had a safe, cozy vibe to it. "I like it," you told him, your eyes scanning them room. You noticed his sprouting marijuana plants in the corner sitting beneath his grow lights and an old shelf beside it that was littered with comic books and novels you'd never heard of.
His house faintly smelled of weed and sandalwood, like how Chris always smelled, and you found the familiar scent comforting as it wafted through the air. He directed you over towards his couch and motioned for you to sit. You sat down, awkwardly perching at the edge of the couch cushion.
"C'mon, ma. You can relax. Kick your feet up," he told you, heading over towards his fridge to give you that beer he promised you. You exhaled and slowly leaned back into his sofa that was much softer than you imagined it would be. Chris twisted the cap off the bottle and handed it to you. The red and white label that read Stella Artois stared back at you, and you hesitantly reached out and took it.
Chris plopped down on the couch beside you, and you watched as he sprinkled a bit of ground weed into his rolling paper. You peered down at his rings and his fingers at the way they skillfully handled the joint, tucking the paper in and folding it in on itself.
His gaze flickered up at you as his tongue darted out, and he licked a long, slow stripe across the edge of the joint. His lips curled into a suggestive smile as he noticed you watching him, but you acted unamused, pulling your eyes away from his. You held the bottle up to your lips, taking a small, refreshing sip, the bubbles fizzing against your tongue as you relaxed further into the comfy couch.
You peered down the hall to an open door at the end. The room was dark, but you imagined it was probably Chris' bedroom. You found yourself wondering what it looked like, how comfortable his bed was, and how hard it would be for you to keep your hands off of him if you ever found yourself alone with him in there.
"You coming?" Chris asked, pulling you out of your thoughts and standing to his feet as soon as you'd gotten comfortable. "Coming where?" You wondered, giving him a perplexed look. "To the roof. The view's great up there," Chris responded, making his way towards the back door.
You hesitantly followed him back out into the cool air of the backyard where he had a ladder propped up against the side of his house. "C'mon, ma. I'll hold your beer. You start climbing the ladder," Chris told you, extending his arm to take your bottle from you. "Yep. Just smoking and drinking on a roof. What could possibly go wrong?" You muttered under your breath as you wrapped your fingers around the cold, metal rungs.
"Don't worry, ma. I'll be right behind you, so if you fall, I'll catch you," Chris' breath tickled your neck as he pressed his warm body into yours. Your heart skipped a beat, and you felt your breath hitch in your throat. It was the closest you'd ever been to him. You were just glad you were faced away from him, so he couldn't see the unmistakable look of desire written in your expression as heat radiated off his skin.
You cleared your throat and regained your composure. "Is that your gun, or are you just happy to see me?" You snarked at him, peering over your shoulder in an attempt to take control of the situation again. Chris chuckled, but he didn't answer you, leaving it up for interpretation. You started to hesitantly climb the ladder, and Chris followed closely behind, keeping his promise to not let you fall as he held your beer in one hand and the unlit joint between his lips.
The two of you made it to the roof, and Chris handed you your beer once the two of you got settled. The star-filled sky hung overhead as you looked out at the horizon. You saw the tops of the other houses, the city lights scattered across the skyline, and the waves crashing on the beach shore off in the far distance. You brought your bottle of Stella Artois up to your lips and took another sip as you took in the view. There was something about this perspective that made your problems feel smaller and less pressing.
"Pretty cool, isn't it, ma?" Chris asked beside you as you heard the flick of his lighter sound as he held the flame up to the end of his joint. You quietly nodded, surprised by how much you could see from Chris' roof. "So, ma. What do you say we get to know each other better and play your favorite game, twenty questions?" Chris smiled over at you with the lit joint pinched between his two fingers.
You rolled your eyes, but you didn't have an excuse this time. There was no work to be done, and there was nowhere to go to avoid his questioning, so you took a deep breath and another swig of your drink. "Okay, fine. Hit me," you finally replied after a moment of hesitancy.
"Where do you go to clear your mind?" Chris wondered, his gaze locked on you. "The beach. I like the waves. The sounds of the seagulls. Feeling the sand between my toes. It's peaceful," you shrugged. Even though the question wasn't a very personal one, you felt vulnerable answering.
"What about you, Chris?" You wondered aloud. "You're looking at it," Chris said with his joint tucked between his lips. He didn't need to explain anything further. You could tell why this was the place he went to sort out his thoughts.
"Alright. What kind of music do you listen to?" You blurted out, not sure of what to ask him next. "Anything, really. But I prefer indie over everything else," he told you. "Okay, play me your favorite song," you told him, gesturing towards his phone he had sitting beside him. He picked it up, staring back at you as he thought about it for a moment. "Alright," he responded, scrolling through the saved albums on his phone until he came across AM by Arctic Monkeys. No. 1 Party Anthem started playing through the speaker of his phone, and you nodded in approval as the melody filled the space between you.
"If you could have dinner with anyone, dead or alive, who would you choose?" Chris asked, turning off his phone screen and letting the song play softly in the background of your conversation. You thought about it for a moment. "See, I wanna say Pablo Escobar or something, but I think I'd want to have dinner with one of those druglords who flew under the radar so well that we don't even know their names," you replied. "Damn, ma. That's a good answer," Chris mumbled with the joint hanging from his lips.
He glanced up at you as if silently reminding you it was your turn to ask a question. "What did you think of me when you first met me?" You wondered aloud. You gave him a look like he should be careful about how answered this question. He cracked a smile, remembering the first time you'd approached him and threatened him for selling his weed on your block and trying to steal your customers. "I thought you were tough. Not the kind of woman you want to mess with. I also thought you were super hot," Chris admitted. You blushed, hoping Chris couldn't tell in the glow of the moon.
"What's one thing you don't leave the house without?" Chris asked you, pulling a long drag from his joint. "My keys," you sharply responded, subtly teasing him for having to break into his own place earlier. He let out a laugh. "And my gun," you told him. You sipped on your bubbly drink, noting that the song had changed.
Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High started to play as you glanced back over at the blue-eyed man beside you. "If you could change one thing about yourself, what would you change?" You asked, peeling the label off your beer bottle. "Nothing," Chris smirked over at you. "Nothing?" You reiterated, furrowing your brow. "Nothing," he repeated. "You're a little cocky, aren't you?" You shot back. "I prefer confident," Chris chuckled before he pulled from the joint again.
"What do you think the most important quality in a friend or partner is?" Chris asked after a few seconds of silence. "Honesty and loyalty," you said without hesitation, and Chris nodded in agreement. "You?" You asked. "Probably just someone who isn't going to bail when things get hard," Chris sincerely responded.
"What's your biggest fear?" You asked him, the questions getting deeper and deeper. "Losing the people I love," he answered, staring down at the build-up of ash on the cherry before flicking it off. "How about you, ma?" He returned the question. "Trusting the wrong person and getting hurt," you responded almost immediately. "I get that," Chris answered, his gaze still fixed on you.
"What's your guilty pleasure?" Chris asked you, his luscious lips curling into a smile as he awaited your response. "Probably those dumb reality shows," you admitted, your cheeks growing warm. "Really? Never took you for a girl who likes trash TV," Chris teasingly nudged your arm. "Daisy loves that shit, too."
"What's one of your guilty pleasures?" You asked Chris. He bit down on his lip as he looked you up and down. He knew what he wanted to say, but he knew it would be crossing the line of just playful flirting and venturing into uncharted territory, so he came up with something on the spot.
"Watching the trash TV with her. I'm always making fun of her for watching The Bacholorette and shit like that, but then I find myself watching it with her and getting all invested," Chris confessed.
"I totally get it. Like, I started watching it as a joke at first, and then you get to know the people. Then you start wanting them to end up together," you said, glancing up at him, and his eyes met yours. The song changed again, and you listened as the lyrics came through:
🎶 If you like your coffee hot, let me be your coffee pot. You call the shots, babe. I just wanna be yours. 🎶
The two of you stared at each other in a comfortable silence for a moment, Chris taking a puff of his weed as you took a swig of beer. "So, what does Daisy think you're out doing all day when you're working?" You wondered, raising an eyebrow at him. "As far as she knows, I work in sales, which isn't totally a lie. She just doesn't know about the drugs," Chris shrugged. "Yeah, she doesn't know about the most important detail," you scoffed, tapping on the glass of your bottle.
"Why are you always judging me for that, ma? I've got my reasons. Why are you so pressed about it?" He asked, sounding a bit defensive. "I had an ex who kept things from me, like how much money he owed certain people. He put me in a lot of dangerous situations. Don't want to watch you do the same shit to Daisy," you murmured, letting Chris in more than you had up until this point. "I didn't know, ma," Chris said, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder and relaxing his jaw. "You know, I'd never intentionally hurt her. Or you."
"It doesn't matter, Chris. You can be the most well-intentioned person in the world and still hurt the people around you," you responded. He was quiet for a few minutes, mulling over what you said.
"Your ex? Alex?" Chris wondered, blowing out a cloud of smoke against the night sky as he recalled Joe using that name earlier. "Yeah. My dumb fuck ex. He got himself killed because he owed the wrong people money," you said in a dry tone. "Holy shit. Ma, I'm so sorry," Chris whispered. "Don't be. He deserved it," you muttered under your breath.
"Hey, I have a question. Why do you always call me ma?" You chimed in. "It's just a sign of respect. That's all," he shrugged. "Why? Does it bother you?"
"No. It's fine. I don't care what you call me. You gotta stop looking at me like that, though. Looking like you're gonna kiss me or some shit," you accused him, following his gaze that danced between your eyes and your lips as you took another drink of your beer. The song changed again.
🎶 How many secrets can you keep? 'Cause there's this tune I found that makes me think of you somehow, and I play it on repeat until I fall asleep. 🎶
"I'm not looking at you any type of way! Maybe you're projecting because you wanna kiss me," he shot back. The sexual tension between the two of you was thick, and for a moment, you each thought about it. The temptation was there, and it was strong. You wanted to pull him as close as you could, passionately press your lips against his, and tangle your fingers in his soft, brown hair, but you didn't want to ruin your business relationship with him.
Chris thought the same, wondering what it would be like to kiss you, but he didn't want to screw up what he had with Daisy, and he didn't want to give you the wrong impression. He diverted his eyes, glancing down at his joint that had burned down to the roach, and he put it out. "Get enough of the view, ma? I'm getting kind of tired," Chris chimed in as you admired his profile in the moonlight.
For a moment, you forgot he was talking about the scape of the city from the roof. "Oh, right. Yeah, of course. I should probably go," you said, fiddling with the empty bottle in your hand. "You can stay the night if you need to," Chris motioned towards the alcoholic beverage you'd finished off, but he knew he was playing with fire the moment the words left his mouth, inviting you to stay the night.
🎶 Do I wanna know if this feeling flows both ways? Sad to see you go, was sort of hoping that you'd stay. 🎶
The two of you exchanged a look like you both knew it wouldn't be a good idea. Even with you both sleeping in separate rooms, you each knew deep down that a closed door wouldn't be enough to deter you two from the temptation. "It's cool, Chris. It was just one beer. I'll just grab a glass of water, sit on your couch for twenty minutes, and I'll be fine to drive," you told him. Chris picked up his phone and paused the song. "I got you, ma. I'll help you down."
You felt elated once you were finally sitting back down on Chris' couch, sobering up. You weren't sure if it was a buzz from the alcohol, an adrenaline rush from being on the roof, or just the way you were starting to feel around Chris.
Chris gave you some crackers to help "absorb the alcohol," because he had "heard somewhere that it does," and even though you'd only had one beer, it was sweet that he cared enough. You also both just knew that you had to sober up, because staying the night wasn't an option unless you were both prepared to give into the force that was pulling the two of you together and end up doing something that could hurt Daisy or hurt your business relationship.
So you were munching away on Ritz crackers on Chris' couch after your single beer, and once you felt like the effects of the alcohol had worn off, you made a comment about how late it was getting and about how you should probably get going.
You left, following the same stepping stones you'd used when you walked up. When you approached your car, you reached into your empty pocket for your keys just to remember you'd left them on Chris' coffee table. "Shit," you whispered, realizing you were going to have to do a walk of shame back up to his front door after giving him shit for forgetting his keys earlier.
Chris had already started to get ready for bed, shedding his layers and slipping into a pair of flannel pajama pants when a soft knock sounded at his front door. He peeked through the peephole to make sure it was you, his heart racing and secretly wondering if you'd come back to kiss him or confess your feelings for him, his mind swirling with half a dozen possibilities.
He turned the doorknob, and when you saw him, your eyes were immediately drawn to the fact that he was shirtless. "Uh, sorry. I forgot my keys," you told him, unable to conceal your smile at the irony of the situation. "Oh, you mean, the keys you don't go anywhere without?" Chris asked, leaning against the door frame and indulging in the fact that you were doing nothing to hide the fact that you were checking him out.
"Yeah. Those ones," you smirked, biting down on your lip. "I'll go get 'em, ma," Chris chuckled at you as he turned to retrieve your keys. You found yourself holding your breath as your gaze danced over the definition of his back muscles in the soft lighting of his living room.
He handed them to you, and as you took them from him, his hand brushed against yours. You both exchanged a look that was heavy with the words unspoken between you, but you also both silently agreed it was for the best. "Okay, goodnight," you said, unconsciously batting your eyelashes at him. "Goodnight," Chris smirked, eyeing you up and down as you turned to walk away before closing his door again.
As soon as you made it to your car, you reflected on the way you acted and how stupid you must have sounded, silently kicking yourself. You didn't harp on it for long, though. Your embarrassment was quickly overshadowed by the intoxication and bliss you felt from being around such an attractive man who was beginning to make you smile more than he made you roll your eyes.
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#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo smut#sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x you#dealer chris#dealer!chris#christopher sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo angst
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— your highness, my princess
The thrill of danger lingers in Childe’s veins more often than not. Bloodshed does not scare him. His blades have known him for almost a lifetime as he holds them dear day and night. He had once sworn to be used as a machine in battle, and he intends to keep it.
At the moment his blades swing against a wooden dummy as it holds on for dear life. From anyone watching his aggression is not something to be taken lightly. There’s blaze in his eyes, replaced by the lack of sparks. Sweat drips down from every direction of his body. But his stamina doesn’t break. He doesn’t stop. Because once he does, he’ll be back to reality.
A reality where he’s born to protect the crown and its heir.
To protect and serve someone that’s far from his grasp: you.
It haunts him, how his loyalty will forever be yours, but he can’t say the same for you. One day you’ll take up the crown, marry someone of the same status and have children of your own—all while he watches, so close yet so far.
So he swings. For every battle in the field. For every battle against himself to stop his heart from beating for you. For every time he forgets his place. For every time he lets go as only Ajax in your presence. For every time he wishes to be just a boy helplessly drowning in feelings he doesn’t deserve to have.
And for every time you visit him practicing privately in the early mornings.
“How long are you going to keep staring, your highness?” He was trained for this. He would know someone else’s presence, especially yours. It’s always you.
“How long are you going to keep practicing?” You cross your arms, borrowing his smile.
He can’t tell if his heart is beating rapidly from adrenaline or from the sweet smile of your face, “All day if that means I get to have your attention.”
“I didn’t see you this morning.”
“You’re incredibly needy, my princess”
“You’re aware of that.”
It’s bittersweet. How you can talk to each other acting like there’s no consequences. As if you’re walking in a limbo not caring if you fall. If only it was that easy. To cross the line. To push you off the edge so he can catch you and hold you in his arms like he does in his dreams.
He’d stay there for an eternity if he could have you.
“What’s wrong?” You tilt your head and reach up to his head with a cloth, swiping the drops of sweat from his forehead.
He closes his eyes and leans into the touch, “Did my princess miss me that much that she’d take her time to visit me in my quarters?”
“Aren’t you over-doing it?” You ask and he sees the evident concern form in your eyes.
He loves it. He loves your attention.
“You sound concerned, your highness. Do I take it you’re doubting my abilities?”
You shake your head, “It’s hard to find you around the palace. It’s as if you’re deliberately ignoring me.”
“Who would ever ignore the princess?” It almost sounds sarcastic, because maybe it is.
He has been avoiding you, rather he’s been ignoring his feelings and thoughts enveloping only you as he wakes. It’s hard to hold back when every silhouette he sees reminds him of you.
Then he sees a frown on your face. He hates that—that he’s the reason for your pain.
He clears his throat, “Would you like to go anywhere today, your highness?”
“I hate when you call me that.”
“It’s your title.”
“I’m your princess.”
“What difference would it make, your highness?” He’s riling you up the way you do to him as he inches closer to your face, until he can see the blush on your face down to your neck.
You stay there for a minute before you move away from him, “There’s a ball this evening.”
“Yes, I’ve heard. Anything you’d wish for me to do?”
“Don’t attend.”
He laughs but it’s an empty one, “One minute you’re looking for my attention and the next you’re pushing me away.”
“He’s going to be there.”
He flinches. He—the one you’re set to marry. At least that’s everyone’s expcrations, whether you pull through with it or not, only time will tell. He swears there’s an invisible knife twisting itself in his chest, agonizingly slow to make it more painful than it has to be.
“Why does that matter?” He asks and his eyes are burning brighter than before. He leans towards you once again, but this time it’s with purpose. Almost predatory. He’s backing you up in a corner until his arm stretches to the wall, trapping you in, “Why should I care about him?”
“Ajax.” You whisper, staring into his eyes as if you’re not fazed by his sudden action. Perhaps you’ve wanted this, and that thought excites him.
He tilts your neck upwards and his fingers rest there, tracing your jaw, “Why can’t I be there?”
He leaves his hand on your jaw and focuses on removing the strands of hair covering your neck line to get a better view—a part of him wants to dig into it, to claim it and tell the whole world that you’re reserved for him, “Are you afraid, your highness?”
He traces your body—his touch is hot and desperate as he snakes his hands along your waist and on your back, playing with the short ribbon holding your dress together as he loosens it slightly, “Will you let him touch you like this?”
You lean into him, hoping to feel his lips, but his only hovers above yours, “What would you do if I did?”
He chuckles, dangerously low. His hands lowered down your body, passing your dress, now caressing your legs in ways you enjoy—in ways he’s memorized before, “I’d kill him.”
You put your hands against his cheeks, “You’re killing me too.”
“Is that true, your highness?” His hands rest at the back of your thigh, lifting one leg up as he leans in, nipping at your ear. You gasp at his hot breath.
“Will you let him get this close too?” His attention moves to your neck. You tilt your head so he can have access to it, as he trails wet kisses along the side.
You wrap your arms around his neck as your fingers weave through his soft hair.
“You’re not giving me an answer,” His voice is hoarse.
“You’re not giving me a chance to answer.”
“If I didn’t, my lips would be on yours the whole time.”
“Why isn’t it?”
“Impatient and needy. What would the people say if they found out the princess acts like this in private?”
You intertwine your hand with his and places it on top of your chest, so he can feel the rapid pace of your heart rising up and down, “You won’t let them see.”
“Don’t be so confident,” He moves up to your jaw.
“I didn’t take you to be someone who shared.”
His lips continued to hover yours. For a minute it feels like time surrendered their hands for the two of you, lending you a moment of peace in each other’s arms where birth given titles are replaced with vows of love.
This, out of all the life-threatening battles he has experienced has to be the most difficult fight he doesn’t think he can survive. But if it’s you holding the blade, if it’s you twisting the knife, then he’ll die happily.
If it means he can hold you like this. Touch you in ways another cannot.
“You’re right, I’m not.” He replies after the prolonged silence.
Then his lips are on yours, finally giving in to his urges. It starts off slow and patient, opposite of what he is. Then he wills your mouth open. He holds onto the back of your neck like a lifeline, pulling you closer each time you gasp for breath. It feels like hours passed, before you broke off the kiss, and he appears as if he’s desperate for more.
“You’re killing me, my princess.”
“Guess we’re even. Shall we continue in my chambers?” You say accompanied by a sweet smile and an innocent flutter of your eyes as you pull him closer, arms around his neck.
And who is he to refuse.
After all, you’re his princess, and he’s your knight—lawfully and willfully worshipping the cathedral of your chest, treasuring the heart that also keeps his beating.
#— floy 🖋️#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact#genshin imagines#genshin x reader#genshin fanfic#genshin fluff#tartaglia x you#childe tartagalia#childe x fem!reader#childe x y/n#childe x you#childe x reader#genshin childe#childe genshin impact#genshin impact childe#tartaglia x y/n#genshin tartagalia#genshin impact tartaglia#tartaglia x reader#genshin tartaglia
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I was introduced to the concept of zines in college, because of a partnered creative project. The first zine I ever contributed to was about social media. It did cost a fortune to print because it was done at the school's favored print shop, in full color.
I don't know how prevalent small bookshops selling zines used to be before the age of the internet, but I think I've only been to one bookshop that sold zines. Which is a real loss, imo. I wish there were more small bookshops and that I had more opportunities to explore zines. I think it's kind of inevitable that the internet caused things to change. Chicken wings and ribs used to be poor people food until they got gentrified. Printing on paper used to be the only way to access and disperse information. Now that we have the internet, it's unfortunately not surprising that zine making has been gentrified.
Plus, I'm sure a lot of people who would like to make zines wouldn't know what to put in one that they'd actually like to share with people. Furthermore, it can be hard to swallow the concept of "if I spend five dollars, I can share this with (let's say three people, for example)" when I can hit reblog or forward or send or submit.......for free.
And then there is the cliche of turning your hobby into a grind. If I can spend five dollars, make three zines, sell them for three dollars apiece, etc etc, maybe I don't need enough money to sell a hundred zines, I just need money to make fifty and I can use the rest of that money for groceries or rent and still keep making fifty zines every time I want to make a new one.
Oh, let's not forget that a lot of USians don't carry cash often if ever, anymore, so now I have to factor in the cost of card transactions, into the cost of my zines. Most people aren't going to find themselves in an avant garde bookshop. Most people may not even find my zines on Etsy or Shopify. This kind of forces an (optional) evolution: if I make a fifty page basically a proper magazine, but because it's full of (idk messages about the best places for poor people to eat in LA), I 'can' call it a zine, I can sell it on like, Amazon, or use a Kickstarter and distribute it nearly infinitely.
I can't look at zines through a pre-internet perspective. I don't have that perspective. I understand that zines should be accessible to those who have very little if any money left over after Life. It can feel tempting to make the flashiest, full color zine. It can feel necessary to print your twenty page zine in full color. It can feel necessary to do the entire thing on the computer. It can feel necessary to make it as professional as possible. It can start to feel like making an "old school" black and white, no computer, xeroxed zine is going to get your zine looked over because it's not flashy enough and nobody likes plain ole boring black and white. Or if I add a cardstock cover, maybe my zine will look a little more professional.
I think a lot of us don't come into zines with any kind of mentor to guide us and regulate the culture, and us younger folks come into it with a mindset that we have to have in the rest of our lives: one upsmanship. If the last guy or the first zine we ever saw had a really professional looking cover, we need one full color page. If that guy used a black and white cardstock cover, we need a color accented cardstock cover, we need a glossy full color cover.
Anyway, all this to say, personally, I don't think zines are the right medium for my creative endeavors. I don't think I say this as like, begging for someone to prove me wrong. I say this as a person who cannot tell a short story. I don't need to rely on zines to get my fanfic (although, even if AO3 did not exist and a monthly zine was the only way to get my Spirk fix, personally, I still wouldn't know where to get some sweet sweet Spirk zines; but that's a me problem).
I feel like I'm about twenty-five years too late to the zine scene.
the whole point of a zine is that it's cheap to produce, amateur and homemade. if you're being asked to apply to participate in a print project, it is not a zine. if the final product is being printed and bound professionally, it is not a zine. if you are being asked to enter into any kind of licensing agreement more complex than "my work can be reproduced as part of this publication" it is not a zine. nine times put of ten if the final product costs more than $5 you have left zine country. im so serious about this.
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Hello! I was curious what your take on the Amphoreus men’s reactions would be to a sick or even injured reader? I had bad nausea and a migraine today, bedridden and all, (but I’m better now!) and I fear if I was their darling they’d think I’m pregnant or something dumb like that 😂
Wishing you a lovely day! Thank you for sharing your writings ❤️
I'm sick atm so Imma answer this. Glad to hear u got better.
When you're sick
🌿 Anaxa
At first, he's simply observing. He doesn't react strongly, but his mind is already working to figure out what’s wrong.
(Watching you struggle to sit up, his eyes gleaming with amusement at first.)
Anaxa: “How fascinating. Your skin is warmer than usual, your pupils slightly dilated… Could it be a poison? Did someone poison you? Or perhaps a parasite? I do wonder.”
Anaxa is unsettlingly calm as he begins testing different treatments on you (you poor thing). You say it’s just a cold? He doesn’t believe you.
(You groan, insisting it’s just a cold. He hums, unconvinced, swirling a dark liquid in a glass.)
Anaxa: “Drink this. It may cure you, or at the very least, give me something new to analyze.”
(He scares you, but he only wants the best for you. Such hypocrite.)
Pregnancy thought? Unlikely. He’s too logical for that, he's looking for tangible symptoms. However, if he does think it, it’s because he wants to study the changes in your body up close.
(You woke up just to see his hand already inspecting your stomach.)
Anaxa: “We managed to put a baby in here huh. Don't you move, I'll take very good care of you.”
(You pushed him away soon after and refused to drink or eat anything from him.)
🐶 Phainon
His smile starts to fade when he heard the news. You have a minor fever?
(He barges into the room)
Phainon: “You're going to die? Don't leave me! I can't bear the thought of living all alone...”
(Lays you in bed dramatically like you’re on your deathbed.)
If you say it’s just a cold, he’ll be offended and insist that you need “proper royal treatment.”
(He tucked you in so tight you can't even move.)
Phainon: “I always know that you're not as strong as me, but I didn't expect you to be sick. I will feed you, every day, don't worry.”
Pregnancy thought? that’s not possible… unless…
(You tell him to calm down, but he ignores you, crouching beside your bed with a look of pure anguish.)
Phainon: “What if it’s something deadly? What if *gasp you’re with child?!? Whose? Mine?”
(You choke on your own saliva at his ridiculous assumption.)
Phainon: “Stay right here, I’ll summon someone immediately!”
(He rushes out before you can protest. You are doomed.)
🦁Mydei
At first, he just watches you suspiciously. When he realizes it’s real, he softens… a little.
He doesn’t fuss, but he becomes overbearing in a quiet way. He forces you to rest, doesn’t let you lift a single finger.
(Arms crossed, standing near the door, eyes narrowed as he watches you weakly sip your drink.)
Mydei: “If you’re too weak to hold a cup properly, you shouldn’t be holding it at all.”
(You glare at him, muttering that you can take care of yourself.)
Mydei: “Clearly.” (Sarcastic. He takes the cup from your hands and forces you to lie down.) “Rest.”
If you get worse, he just picks you up and hauls you off to a doctor, no questions asked.
He’ll be stubbornly glued to your side until you’re better.
Pregnancy thought? The possibility crosses his mind, but he immediately throws it out because he would’ve known if anything like that was possible.
When you're injured
🌿 Anaxa
He is completely unfazed. Even if you’re bleeding out, he will only act calm and professional while getting out his medical tools.
(Kneeling beside you, observing the wound with a calm, almost clinical expression.)
Anaxa: “Hm. A deep cut. The bleeding is slowing, but the damage is substantial.”
You swear he’s a doctor with how efficiently he patches you up—but he makes little effort to comfort you. Rather, he finds it interesting to mess with you.
(You wince as he prods at the wound. He doesn’t even warn you.)
Anaxa: “I expected better. Letting yourself get hurt like this… Have you always been so careless?”
(You glare at him.)
Anaxa: “Oh, don’t look at me like that. This is your own fault, after all. Still, if I find out someone else dares hurt you... nevermind.”
🐶Phainon
Trying to hold back his anger, won't let it shows in front of you. You can only see his good side.
(His entire body is tense as he kneels beside you, gripping his sword so hard his knuckles turn white.)
Phainon: “Who did this?”
(You try to downplay it, but his eyes still burning with fury.)
Once he’s calmed down, he scoops you up and takes you to the best healer available.
He’s genuinely shaken up by it and might get overly protective afterward. Even minor scrapes will have him wrapping you up in bandages like a mummy.
Phainon: “And once you’re healed, you are never leaving my sight again. I won’t allow it.”
🦁Mydei
He’s surprisingly calm when he sees you’re injured, but it’s the eerie kind of calm. He’s not saying much, but the rage is there.
He doesn’t panic, he assesses your wound like a warrior, checking the severity before deciding what to do.
(He crouches beside you, examining the wound with an eerily quiet intensity.)
Mydei: “You’re bleeding.”
(You bite back a sarcastic remark. He rips off a piece of his sleeve, pressing it against the wound with firm but careful hands.)
Mydei: “Does it hurt?”
(You hesitate. He looks at you, his sharp gaze unyielding.)
Mydei: “Good. Remember it.”
Two priorities:
Getting you treated.
Finding whoever did this and destroying them.
No more fights. No more risks. You are staying where he can see you.
(He finishes bandaging the wound, then stands, offering you his hand.)
Mydei: “Come. You’re not walking alone.”
#hsr x reader#honkai star rail#hsr x you#hsr mydei#mydei x reader#anaxa x reader#hsr anaxa#phainon x reader#phainon hsr
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we don't talk enough about cameron's first real scene, where he talks to neil outside his dorm before todd arrives. in case anyone doesn't know what i'm referring to, here's the dialogue from the scene:
Cameron: Hey, Neil, study group tonight?
Neil: Yeah, sure.
Cameron: Business as usual, huh? [turns to leave, then] Hey, I heard you got the new kid. Looks like a stiff. [laughs at his own joke] [Todd enters] Oops. [Cameron leaves]
so let's talk about it!!
cameron opens with the study group question. this is pretty straightforward to me-he knows he's none of the poets' favorite, and certainly not charlie's. neil is his foremost supporter, pretty much the only one who sticks up for him, so this makes sense. he's checking with neil, his 'in' to the group, to make sure he can hang with these guys. he wants to be part of their circle so badly, and that's pretty clear from the get-go.
and then he hits us with this whole "stiff" business. this is a major thing i've seen people use to justify their hate of cameron and i really struggle with that.
because, well...this is SO undeniably awkward. neil tells todd just a moment later not to mind cameron because he was "born with his foot in his mouth." so off the bat, that's not something you say about someone who's consistently rude or who you don't like. that's neil sticking up for cameron. he's saying, sorry todd, he means well, or at least, he doesn't have any ill intentions. cameron's just not got the best grasp of social cues, that's how he is. this is a pretty valid explanation in and of itself, but if you'll walk with me a little further, i've got a deeper theory about why cameron makes this comment.
more than just it being awkward, this casual friendliness, haha, new kid, a mild insult said with much bravado...this isn't really cameron as we see him for the rest of the movie. though he does remain relatively awkward, it doesn't really match his character of being cautious and trying to not stand out, to fit into the group (as we see in his first line). so how to explain this action (because i don't believe the explanation is just: cameron is being an asshole/being awkward)?
to me? this is what cameron thought charlie would say. isn't that almost exactly how charlie always talks about cameron, after all? for a great example, see later in the same scene:
Charlie, about Cameron: What's his specialty, bootlicking?
so maybe cameron believes that this is how friends treat each other. or at least, how they talk about other people to entertain their friends. charlie, while not a stellar student and clearly not liked by the administration, is the class clown, which makes him popular with students at welton. thus, cameron is probably jealous of charlie. he probably wishes he was more like charlie-confident, funny, well-liked, etc. and again, he clearly wants to be friends with neil, and part of their larger group, very, very badly. all of this to say:
i don't think cameron meant what he said about todd.
he's trying to get a laugh out of neil. so what does he do? he does what he thinks charlie-neil's funny best friend-would do. it's not a nice thing to say, but to me, it really just reads as someone who is trying to guess what the appropriate, funny thing to say in a situation is, but doesn't actually know. cameron might not have even really thought the 'stiff' joke was funny. but he thought neil would find it funny, which is really the whole point. cameron is, at the most fundamental level, an unpopular kid who wishes he was well-liked, and is fumbling around blindly trying to find his way there.
#hey guys...it's me again...back with more thoughts about richard cameron...haha...#been sitting on this one for a while#i lowkey think all of this is a mask for charlie too but that's a seperate essay#share your thoughts please#everyone is entitled to their own opinions this is just my take#m yawps#dead poets society#richard cameron
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Do you think some parts of the world would have been unhappy in Aang's decision to spare Ozai? That people would be so bitter - this madman gets to live, while their friends and loved ones died? Why is that? Oh - because the Avatar didn't want to compromise his own morals, to kill someone? Tough, it's a war. People die.
The thing I don't like about the way the show frames it is that the narrative doesn't really give Aang a choice, either.
I think people who frame this as Aang respecting Air Nomad culture are trying to give the show too much credit, because the show doesn't act like Aang gets to choose a moral high ground, they act like he has no choice. Aang seems to believe that the only way he can honor his Air Nomad heritage is by not killing, and...what about all the Air Nomads who didn't have that luxury? What about Gyatso, who was faced with the choice of kill or die, and killed, and died?
I think a lot of people would see Aang's choice as a slap in the face. Every person who had to do things they considered against their personal morals to survive. People like Jet who sincerely wished to stop leading a violent life, but couldn't, because that life was chosen for him the moment his parents were murdered. People like Hakoda who felt deeply ashamed of having to leave his own children to go to war. Are these people just inherently less moral or more bloodthirsty than Aang? No, they simply didn't have the power Aang had at his disposal that allowed him to avoid the kind of violent lives that many people, children included, were forced to lead during the war.
That's also why the "Aang reminds Katara/Zuko that they are kids" thing annoys me. What Aang does is remind them that HE has the luxury of thinking of himself as a kid while they don't. The reason Katara hadn't been penguin sledding in so long isn't because she's a buzzkill who hates fun or she "forgot" that she's a kid, it's because she was forced into a role where she had to take care of her family in her mother's absence, and that doesn't go away with the introduction of another kid she has to parent. As for Zuko, that "well you're just a teenager" line is funny and it's easy to think of Zuko as someone who takes himself too seriously (and part of why it's funny is that teenagers in general do view themselves as so much older than younger children), but Zuko was kicked out of his home at thirteen and expected to be fighting a fully-realized adult Avatar. Even when he was Aang's age, he never had the luxury of thinking of himself that way. You can see this also in the way Zuko interacts with adults early in the series, notably Zhao and his crew. He is desperate to be seen as a hardened adult because he has had to act like one to survive.
These people don't act this way because they've lost their morals or sense of fun or because they don't value peace enough. They act this way because this is what they were forced to do to survive. I think people would rightly be offended by the idea that wanting to see Ozai dead for his crimes makes them just as violent as a genocidal tyrant, and they would be right to feel resentful that Ozai gets to live when he was responsible for so much violence. This is also why Zuko tells Ozai that he's lucky that Aang spared his life. Because in the end, Aang has NO moral obligation to spare Ozai whatsoever, not because of his culture or any reason. Pacifism has never meant that you aren't allowed to use necessary force to stop violence from happening. And anyone who uses the argument that Aang has to spare Ozai because of his culture or that this is his only way to honor his people is LYING.
#atla cricitical#zuko#katara#antikataang#only slightly but tagging because i'm not interested in arguing about this
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I am so sorry for the late reply 😭 but thank you so much for your kind words Enny!
I'm so happy you enjoyed the action scene as it was something completely new for me to write as well to make the MC a badass with fears and internal troubles. (we cannot all be badass like Maggie from TWD lmao although I wish). The Mr. Shin scene was so fun to write, but exhausting!!! I really wanted the readers to be on the edge of their seats and also convey the fear and confusion of the MC, like imagine your neighbour wants to chop your head off while the baby you're babysitting is screaming behind you 😭 poor Nari lmaooo
And OMG, I believe the mall scene was the reason I wrote the oneshot in the first place eheheheh, I was literally excited to write that whole scene as I planned it for so long.
you age Nari up so well too, like it's obvious that an aging character would have an evolving vocabulary and speech pattern, but the way you wrote it so naturally was just 😙🤌 SO well done
I've read so many fics where the kids aren't "realistically" portrayed, where they are acting like 2 year olds or are super-mega smart at a really young age, so I came prepared. I did so much re-search on how kids act at Nari's age and what "difficulties" a child "should" have at that stage in life. Thank you for pointing it out!!
and don't even get me started on how amazing you are at showing and not telling.
This is probably the best compliment a writer can get 🥹
the inner literary freak in me was so into the dialogue when hongjoong is "interviewing" the mc and her not willing to share everything about who/why/when she killed! it was such a good touch <33
Oh, you just know I had to squeeze in captain!joong, like who better to lead a group of survivors than our captain 🙂↕️ I was a bit torn on what kind of leader he would be tho. There's the usual mastermind leader who can't be fooled, then we have the ruthless one who wouldn't mind killing for their people and lastly, we have the one who tries to keep the peace alive. I didn't want to make Hongjoong into a killing machine and I tried incorporating his charismatic persona even here.
also love love LOVE the way you build mc's and yunho's relationship over the course of several years, bc I do actually think it would take someone hardened like mc years to break down the barriers she'd have build up.
THANK YOU! I didn't want them to fall in love at first sight because let's be real, they live in a world where backstabbing is more common than going to the bathroom 😭 also, the MC has a lot of trust issues considering it's only been her and Nari for so long, it makes sense that she isn't willing to welcome just anyone into her life.
for your first attempt at a zombie au, this was nothing short of a MASTERPIECE and I'm so glad to have gotten around to finally reading it <33
enny 😭🥹 thank you so much for your sweet words, I always look forward to what you have to say about my fics and you never cease to put a smile on my face!
Bones, Blood and Teeth Erode | Jeong Yunho
⚠️ Summary: Taking a child under your wing, tackling complex feelings for a man who didn't make your life easier, and waking up to the entire world wanting to sink their teeth into your skin would make for one hell of a college essay. Too bad you were already done with your studies and working a full time job kicking rotten ass.
⚠️ Pairing(s): Jeong Yunho x F!Reader
⚠️ Genres/Tropes: non-idol AU, zombie apocalypse AU, horror, romance, hurt/comfort, a lot of action, a lil comedy, golden retriever x black cat (kinda, not really)
⚠️ Warnings/Tags: female reader, no use of (Y/N), explicit language, reader has a panic attack, derogatory words (bitch), use of weapons (guns, knives), blood and gore (quite descriptive), (probably inaccurate) gun wounds, losing consciousness, petnames (flower, angel, darling, sweetie), zombies, murder, reader is a badass, attempted murder by strangulation, brief allude to suicide and hanging (just a quick mention), medical needles, disagreements, Wooyoung is a menace, jealous!Yunho
⚠️ Wordcount: 39.3K
⚠️ Author's note: This work has been a fun challenge as it's my first time writing a zombie AU. With that, I'll kindly ask you to please be nice if the gore and action doesn't live up to your expectations! I'm also thinking of making a "sequel" as everything I planned couldn't fit here, but I don't know... I'll leave that for future me to decide. Until then, I'm going to focus on finishing Cold Hands, Warm Heart. Plus, who was going to tell me there was a limit to Tumblr?? Wdym I can't exceed 1000 paragraphs? 😭
This is all fiction and not meant to represent the idols involved in any way or form. This work is NSFW and not appropriate for minors as it contains explicit scenes.
AO3 Masterlist Moodboard Click on me!
The most memorable moments of life were limited and a majority of them weren’t even stored in the human’s hippocampus until the ages three or four. First words, first steps, first birthday, first time using the potty amongst other things weren’t memories, but rather snippets of stories retold by parents or other significant individuals. With the years passing and flowers withering as snow spread through the country, the less memorable things became. Birthdays were celebrated every three hundred and sixty-fifth day, but were only really a big deal if it was a big number or when the line of adolescence and adulthood was crossed. After that, no one was eager enough to celebrate the less time they harbored in the world.
Then — in some random order — your wallet would be updated with a shiny driver’s license accompanying your credit card, a few pennies and other meaningless receipts you couldn’t bother throwing out. The desk in your childhood bedroom was cleared of coloring books, instead proudly displaying the evidence of graduating college that would eventually be framed and nailed to the newly painted walls of your first apartment. Those were the more memorable milestones you’d think back to in your senior years while relaxing on your porch with a cup of freshly brewed tea. By that point in life, you’d be free of school, work and other duties. The only worry was when your next doctor appointment was or if the neighborhood kids were stealing apples from your garden again.
The universe was known for throwing curveballs when one least expected and no one could foresee the bombshell of death and despair exploding on the green earth, altering everyone’s hopes and dreams to dust. Within hours, the vision of spending your last years alive tending to your garden flowers and watching the sun go to sleep was erased from existence along with your cherished memories, because there was no moment in life you’d remember more than the day the world went to shit.
“How’s little Nari doing? Have you checked the locks?”
“She’s good, as much as a seven-year-old could be. I’ve already put her to bed like half an hour ago. We ate some fruit snacks and watched an episode of Bluey, and poof, she was out like a light,” you chuckled gently. “And yes, I already checked, I double checked even.”
This was your new nightly routine ever since moving miles across the country for more opportunities in the big city. Your mom had yet to accept the fact her baby girl (and only child) wasn’t a baby anymore, but a grown woman with adult responsibilities. Nonetheless, she still called you at least once a day, and as much as you loved her, she sure was getting on your nerves.
“Triple check it… Oh! And see if your windows are locked too. She’s such a sweet little girl. Speaking of, how are the Kangs?”
Leave it to your mom to ask about everyone’s and everything’s wellbeing. It was no wonder she had trouble sleeping at night, the constant worry gnawing on her brain like a mouse with a stolen piece of cheese. Rolling your eyes, you refrained from chastising her for staying up late watching one too many criminal documentaries. You lived on the fifth floor; what did it matter if your windows were locked or not?
“The Kangs are good too, I believe. They’ll be her first thing in the morning to get Nari.”
“They are good people, those Kangs. I’m happy you have normal neighbors and not some weirdos. Especially when they know there’s a girl living alone, it makes you vulnerable.”
“Because a couple in their early thirties definitely can’t be perpetrators. Bonus points if they have a daughter.”
“I’m just concerned for my little baby girl. You know it’s difficult for us now that you’ve moved out. Your father doesn’t say much, but he hasn’t stepped foot in your bedroom after the last box was carried out.”
And as much as you wanted to tell her, ‘Mom, I’m not your little baby girl anymore’, the words wouldn’t roll off your tongue. Perhaps it was the mention of your father’s somber behavior — someone you never saw without a smile on his face — or you were missing them equally as much as they missed you.
“I know, mom. But it was a question of when I’d move out, I mean, it would happen eventually and here we are.”
“Well, I don’t care. You’ll be my baby until they stuff me down below.”
“Mom!”
“It’s true! Adult or not, I’m still your mother and will always be. Doesn’t matter if you’re five, fifty or five hundred. Now, I don’t want to hold you off any longer, it’s quite late and you have an early start tomorrow. I love you, my sweet girl.”
“I love you too, mom. Hug dad for me, would you?”
“Of course. Good night, sweetie.”
“Goodnight.”
Plopping down on the sofa barely big enough for three, your phone lightened with a gentle tap of your thumb. The wallpaper was a picture of you standing behind your parents with the family cat seated on your mom’s lap. It was taken days before you’d leave for Seoul (your mom insisted you take another family portrait to match the collection of the already existing thirty something photos). Your two hours were spent aimlessly scrolling through various social media apps, seeing what news and events you missed out on while entertaining the previously energetic seven-year-old. Amidst your scrolling, the three full bars of the Wi-Fi emoticon turned transparent. Not thinking much of it, you opted for resetting your router, but nothing changed. Even your data roaming wasn’t working.
“Huh? That’s weird,” you mumbled to yourself.
The device quickly lost its value and was forgotten on the coffee table as you reached for the TV remote. That proved to be useless too as a multitude of colors covered the screen with the words ‘No Signal’ staring right back at you. Growing up in the countryside, you weren’t all too shaken over the loss of Wi-Fi, but considering you were now residing in the heart of South Korea, where everything was supposed to be ten times better and faster, you were left with a queasy feeling. Giving the government — or whoever was in charge of these operators — the benefit of the doubt, you decided to get ready for bed. The internet would be back sooner or later, that’s how it was in your hometown at least.
You gently peeked inside your bedroom and with the reassuring sight of Nari still in a deep slumber, you resumed to the bathroom.
“Maybe it’s a sign to tune in for the night.”
Watching yourself in the bathroom mirror, you shrugged and got to washing up. As you completed the long list of your skincare routine and dried your face with a towel, you didn’t expect to be met with sudden darkness and nearly fell into the bathtub. Regaining your composure, your feet were glued to the floor and ars extra sharp, listening for anything suspicious on the other side of the door. You couldn’t help but think someone had broken into your flat. To your fear, a silent creak echoed throughout the apartment followed by rapid pattering of feet. A whimper — you would’ve missed it if it weren’t for the complete silence — slipped through the tight space between the door and threshold.
“Auntie?”
The speed you unlocked the door at should be studied by a group of scientists. You wasted no time crouching before Nari which she saw as an invitation to sling herself in your embrace. The few solar sticks shoved into your window baskets provided your apartment with enough light to avoid bumping into furniture as you entered the living room. The TV had gone from a bright rainbow to a void of nothing, enveloping you in complete darkness. A simple fuse going out wouldn’t turn off the power in your entire apartment and you wondered if the whole building was without electricity.
“Why is it dark?” She whispered against your shoulder.
“I don’t know, sweetie. I think the power went out. Wanna see if there are any candles laying around?”
Grabbing your phone from its place, you quickly put on the flashlight and rummaged through your cabinets for anything useful. If you knew your mother at all, you were certain she snuck in some candles or a real flashlight while you were busy carrying boxes with your dad. Opening the second-to-last drawer, you found what you were looking for and in that moment it was a treasure bigger than gold.
“Looks like Auntie had some candles after all.”
With the help of Nari — who actually just watched you scatter the candles everywhere — you managed to bring more light into the apartment.
“Isn’t this much better?” You asked and Nari nodded while shuffling to one end of the sofa, her knees brought up to her chest and her hair a mess from the short nap.
“When will the lights be back?”
Honestly, you didn’t know, but sensing it would spread more worry than comfort, you weren’t about to let her know that. She was already spooked from the sudden blackout and you weren’t all that keen on consoling a distressed child a quarter to midnight.
“Soon. I’m sure of it. In the meantime, how about you go bring me your pretty pink hairbrush and I’ll fix your pigtails for you?”
You watched Nari run off into your bedroom and gave yourself a pat on the back for handling the situation quite smoothly. With the power out, you had no option but to save the battery on your phone, thus turning off the flashlight and relying on the candles for guidance. Not to sound entitled, but you truly thought the outages would be left in your hometown and wouldn’t follow you all the way to Seoul. Trying to go against the odds, you checked your phone again and noticed the service was completely wiped out. The top of your screen looked rather naked as the battery percentage glared at you tauntingly. Now would be a good time to worry. Water seeped through the ventilations in your flat and hastily rose upwards. Parts of your body turned numb at immediate contact and your nightgown stuck to your cold skin. You looked around. Your living room was flooding, but no one did anything. No one came to help. The world was still spinning and you were slowly drowning. As your view was obscured by a beautiful hue of blue everything stopped.
It was quiet, but your thoughts were loud. Submerging underwater was supposed to give a sense of tranquility yet there you were, struggling to tame the voices in your mind. It was first when you parted your lips for an intake of air that they simmered out and a wave of panic washed over you as water gushed down your throat and into your lungs. Your mouth clamped shut and you made grabby motions as if you’d latch onto a plug and the water would magically go down a drain. The lack of oxygen caused darkness to cloud your sight and a force so tight wrapped around your head you thought it was going to explode. Fire burned your lungs and something clawed at your throat, but you refused to inhale again. It was scary. The fight was slowly leaving your body and right when you heard death calling for you, a bubbly call of your name brought you back to reality and suddenly there was no evidence of the translucent liquid ever being in your living room.
“Here you go, Auntie.”
Nari reclaimed her seat on the couch, the only difference being her back turned toward you. Releasing a shuddering breath, you took the brush from her and tried to differentiate between reality and imagination. This seemed to be real, you thought and got to work, despite your heart banging against your chest. With gentle touches, you removed the ties from her hair and combed it until silky smooth. To your relief and her luck, the strands weren’t tangled together and allowed the brush to run freely. Deeming her hair neat enough, you parted it down the middle and into two sections, and redid her pigtails from earlier. It was an easy hairstyle and suited her pretty face. You looped both your index fingers through each tail and giggled at the cuteness.
“There you go. All done, little flower.”
“Thank you, Auntie!”
Nari turned around and wrapped her arms around your waist, her cheek mushed against your stomach and your heart soared with joy. The display of affection was enough to keep your head on and not worry about all the connected dots seemingly leading back to the power outage. Besides, you couldn’t act recklessly. If Nari caught wind of your unease, you could confidently say she’d spiral into a panic of her own.
“Of course… Now I was thinking with the power out, how would it sound if we raided my freezer for some ice cream? I mean, it will turn bad otherwise.”
The Kangs were quite strict with Nari and sweets, in the sense that they didn’t want her over consuming before bed or on weekdays. Something about having a balanced diet. It wasn’t anything you had a say in and if you wanted to be paid at the end of the day as well as avoid a lawsuit, you were going to ensure Nari followed those rules. But considering something was out of the ordinary and with your endless supply of ice cream, you couldn’t bother with what her parents had to say.
While she was shifting between eating the flavors of strawberry, chocolate, banana, raspberry and vanilla ice cream, you pondered over the elephant in the room. Knowing now it wasn’t something solely affecting your apartment complex, but the whole city, you were trying your hardest not to freak out. Perhaps some vigilante had hacked into the government and planned on leaking some top secret files? Were you going to war? A sign of an earthquake?
“Auntie?”
“Yes, Nari?”
“I’m sleepy. I’m sorry your ice cream will go bad.”
“Don’t worry about that. It was too much for just the two of us anyway.” You patted the top of her head and she childishly beamed at you, immediately illuminating the room better than any light source created. “Wanna get ready for bed again?”
As you stood up, you expected Nari to follow, but the child was still seated. Her feet brushed against each other while she picked around her fingernails. She avoided your eyes, her gaze trained on her fiddling hands.
“Is something wrong?”
The mumbled words were far too quiet for you to make sense of and with a polite request to repeat herself, Nari spoke again, a tad bit louder than before. “I don’t wanna sleep in the dark.”
A crack went down the middle of your heart and echoed loudly in your eardrums. Her sullen attitude caught you off guard, but knowing the reason behind it, you now wondered if she was used to being chastised or mocked for her fear in the walls of her home. Whatever it was, you weren’t going to endorse that behavior.
“We could…” You began and waited for her to meet your gaze. Her little eyes carried a plethora of stars and you had to hold back from pinching her chubby cheeks. “Have a sleepover, right here.”
The stars in her eyes grew in size and twinkled brighter than any night sky. Her previously pouty lips curled in a sugary smile that cured any type of sadness. The child was up in seconds, already rearranging the pillow to her liking and claiming her side of the sofa.
“Okay, flower. It’s time for another brushing session.”
Luckily, Nari didn’t appear like a kicked puppy and happily skipped to the bathroom instead. Your phone looked ginarmouis in her tiny hands as it lit up her path despite the candles burning for the same purpose. You released a breath of relief and whisked out two blankets from your bedroom as well as Nari’s stuffed toys. She spent enough nights under your watch to know she’d ask for either Sir Fluffington (a rabbit with one of its ears ripped off) or Spiderfrog (a purple ladybug). Coming out of your bedroom, you were surprised to see Nari sitting on the sofa, legs tucked beneath her bum and arms hidden underneath her shirt making her look armless.
“Oh, you’re done already?”
“The water is not working.”
Dropping the soft objects on the couch, your brows scrunched together. “What?”
“I opened the sink and the water didn’t come. It was first brown, like poopy water and then it disappeared.”
Disregarding her easy mix up between a tap and a sink, you flew across the room to the kitchen and as feared, no water came out. Something was wrong. How big of a coincidence would it be that the electricity, internet and water were out of function? Swallowing the lump growing in your dry throat — a placebo created by the knowledge you had no running water — you faced Nari and ushered her under the covers.
“I’m positive it’s nothing. The water and power will be back when we wake up.” Shuffling beside her, you handed her both Sir Fluffington and Spiderfrog, an easy distraction from the weird occurrences.
“Can we sleep with the lights on?”
“Yeah, I won’t blow out all the candles until you’re asleep. Is that alright?”
Nari nodded and tucked both of her stuffies beneath the blanket then brought it up to her chin. You gave your phone one last glance, sighing at the red battery and lack of a signal. Just your luck, you thought and let it back down.
“Good night, Auntie.”
Nari’s breaths evened quicker than you could reply back and soon you too struggled with keeping your eyes open. As promised, you blew out the candles — starting a building fire was not a part of your bucket list — and came back to bed. Fatigue weighing more than three bags of flour tugged on your eyelids and it was easier to give into the darkness than fight it. Besides, you’d rather not stay awake and theorize over all the possibilities as to why the country seemed to be out of function.
“Night, flower.”
The trip to dreamland was short and didn’t last for longer than two hours. You woke with a startle, your body covered in a sheen of sweat and heart loud in your ears. It wasn’t because of your neighbor’s early shenanigans of rearranging furniture or a fast food delivery guy knocking on the wrong door, but people talking, or rather screaming, in the corridor of the apartment building. Nari was still sleeping soundly next to you, seeming nothing in the world was able to disturb her. It wasn’t because of your neighbor’s early shenanigans of rearranging furniture or a fast food delivery guy knocking on the wrong door. Still surrounded by darkness, you hastily grabbed your phone and blinded yourself as — what felt like — a hundred suns appeared right before your eyes. The numbers showed it was a little past two in the morning.
A commotion of multiple bodies running and sharp tones turning into faint screams, had you standing on your feet. The walls of the apartment were thin, but not enough for you to make out what was being said. It couldn’t be a normal argument between neighbors if the shouting went from anger to fear, hands pounding against doors with pleas of being let inside. You didn’t move until a bloodcurdling scream echoed through the stairwell. In all your years on this earth, you never heard a being make such painful and horrifying sounds. Not even movies portraying the most gruesome torture scene could be compared to what your ears were witnessing. You couldn’t describe it even if you wanted to. All you knew was that it touched your core, nearly cutting all mobility in your legs. The screaming didn’t stop for a while, but when it did everything turned silent. The silence in the dead of a night with everyone asleep; no engine rumbling, no people talking and no animals wandering around. Complete and utter silence.
By some miracle, you managed to get closer to your door without stumbling into something and for once in your life you were grateful for your mother’s nagging about checking the locks. Something was wrong. Really, really wrong. You could feel it in your bones, like birds sensing the beginning of a natural hazard. It wasn’t something you could explain either and if you tried, whoever was on the receiving end would probably call you crazy, but it didn’t matter because there was no one to convince of said feeling. Nari was too young to indulge in and she was at the age where children questioned everything. Giving her one last glance, reassuring yourself she was still asleep, you stepped closer to the door and prepared yourself to look through the peephole. It was first then you felt the side effects of not having water as your throat was uncomfortably dry and your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth. Whatever you were going to see — hopefully nothing — on the other side of the door, you weren’t sure if you were mentally prepared for it.
“Auntie?”
Like the hands of a grandfather clock reaching an hour, your heart chimed loudly in your ears, pushing all the air out from your lungs and freezing the blood in your veins. The childish voice didn’t ease your worries and for a moment you thought a scene from the movie Orphan played out in your life. The crazy thought lasted for a split second until you remembered why there was a child in your flat to begin with.
“What are you doing?”
Facing Nari, you exhaled and mustered up a gentle smile. “I thought I… Nothing. I’m not doing anything.”
As you stepped away from the door, an internal battle broke out in your head. The logic in you argued it was nothing but a speck of your imagination while your gut feeling threw all sense out of the window and was ready to die on the hill that something wasn’t quite right.
“Did you hear it too?”
That was all the reason your gut needed to push logic out of the window. Swallowing dry air, your tongue darted out over your bottom lip. Inhaling a shaky breath which was a failed attempt at calming your nerves, you decided to see where the conversation would go.
“Hear what, flower?”
What Nari said next confirmed you weren’t crazy.
“The screaming,” she emphasized, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“I… uh…”
As you parted your lips to say something — what, you didn’t know — a faint scratching noise sounded from behind your door. The best way to describe it would be a fingernail being dragged along the wooden surface. It was nearly undetectable, but with the silence in the apartment the sound was loud enough to interrupt your conversation and spread another wave of fear through your body. Nari whimpered, obviously still affected by the screaming from before, and quickly threw the blanket over her head with Sir Fluffington and Spiderfrog squished under each of her armpits.
Hanging onto the thin rope of sanity left in your body, you coaxed yourself into believing it wasn’t anything to be frightened over. The whistling wind could be heard every once in a while, right?
“Don’t go,” Nari squeaked. She was clearly scared of you going out into the hallway and while you admired her thoughtfulness, you had to remind her you didn’t have a single brave bone in your body.
“I won’t,” you whispered back. “I just want to see.”
If the situation wasn’t so eerie, you’d be laughing at her concern. Nari acted as if whoever was out there would grab you through the keyhole and you’d disappear somewhere akin to Raccoon City or The Upside Down. But you didn’t laugh because the possibility of that happening scared even you, a grown adult with her frontal lobe fully developed.
Exhaling, you flicked the metallic cover of the peephole and stared into an abyss of darkness. The green flickering light of an exit sign illuminated the hallway for a split second before everything turned black again. It continued on like that for a moment and each time the light came back on, you expected something grotesque to stare right back at you, but there was nothing.
“Ha, like I thought. There’s no one the–”
Your voice died in your throat as the lightbulb flickered only to be brought back to life. The only difference was the figure standing in your line of sight. The green light was gone in a second, not allowing you to see who it was, but when one sense was diluted, the remaining four heightened.
“Help.”
The voice, if you could call it that, sounded like it belonged to a chainsmoker of fifty years. Raspy — not sexy — and weak. They were wheezing for air and almost choked on their own saliva. It wasn’t until the hallway lit up again that you could make out what was presented before you. Mr. Shin living a floor down with ears that were good for nothing and an obnoxiously loud Yorkshire terrier. However, you couldn’t recall him being a smoker or having a gruff voice. Thinking about it, the elder hated anything to do with cigarettes. The smell, the long list of side effects and not to mention the higher risk of being prone to lung cancer.
None of those facts were important though, because what you were seeing nearly sent you on your backside.
Mr. Shin’s head was abnormally tilted to the right and something sharp, and white, boney, stuck out of his neck. The liquid he was choking on was in fact not his saliva, but buckets of blood. Dark, thick, blood seeping out of his neck and mouth, making it hard for him to speak.
“Open… Help me.”
Lights off. Lights on.
A big chunk of skin and meat was torn right out of his shoulder, coating his arm in a wine-red liquid nearly having you spilling your guts out. Clamping a hand over your mouth, both to keep your food inside and not to let out a scream of terror, you moved backwards. You felt sick. Your stomach was up to your chest and your pulse was so quick the beats per minute were impossible to count. The few words leaving Mr. Shin became a jumbled mess of groans and growls. His pleas for help and demands of you opening the door were indistinguishable, something not even an aggravated dog would let out. The scratching turned into slamming fists and jerks of the handle.
Your phone was useless and there was no other way to get hold of an emergency service. Mr. Shin obviously needed help. He had always been kind to you; he bought you a fresh basket of peaches each month and collected the morning mail for you. There was yet a moment for you to repay him and now would be the perfect chance to give back for all his numerous favors. Not thinking much, you turned the lock west and the door opened on its own as a stumbling Mr. Shin entered your apartment.
“Mr. Shin what happen–”
It was as if he was possessed. The man old enough to be your grandfather staggered over the threshold and grabbed onto your shoulders, forcefully pulling you towards him. Your left hand fell on his ribcage as you simultaneously pressed your other hand against his throat, your fingers digging into the open wound and getting coated in red. As the green lights seeped into your apartment, you saw his lifeless eyes, red mouth and pale face. Your scream was loud enough to wake the whole of Seoul.
Still struck by the image of your kind neighbor looking like the upper part of him was put through a rusty meat grinder, you stumbled over your own feet and fell flat on your rear with Mr. Shin following in tow. Your throat was turning sore from all the screaming that didn’t reach your own ears. He didn’t stop his advances and his mouth was opening and closing in a biting manner, his rotten teeth loudly chomping against each other and overpowering your scream.
“Stop! Mr. Shin!”
It was as if you said the complete opposite as he fought against your pushing hands. Your hand — which was previously on his ribs — jumped up to his shoulder and gradually slid further up his neck. In the midst of your fright and panic, you latched onto the bone sticking out of his body. It was cold and sturdy, and so incredibly nasty that you nearly puked all over yourself like a wasted teenager coming home from a night out in the club. The friendly face of Mr. Shin with deep dimples and moon creasing eyes was void of any happiness.
“Please, stop,” you cried out. Hot tears kissing your cheeks and lips wobbling.
You were left with no choice. Using all the strength you could muster, you dragged both hands in opposite directions. Like opening a newspaper with force and not stopping until it tore in half, his skin parted in the middle with more blood and tissue seeping out of him and straight down on you, coating your pink nightgown and bare skin. A modern version of Carrie.
A whispered apology left your mouth and what was once whole was split into two. The body of Mr. Shin slumped down over you while his groaning head rolled across your living room floor. You scrambled away from the corpse and didn’t stop until your back was against the couch, where a crying Nari loomed over you.
“What the fuck? What. The. Fuck!”
Your hands shook uncontrollably. In an attempt to calm down, you weaved them into your hair, gently tugging at the strands while trying to arrange your fleeting thoughts into something rational. It was impossible. There were so many questions and not one answer. You didn’t know how long you sat there for. Maybe ten minutes? Twenty? An hour? Everything blurred together, but it were the wails of Nari that cleared up the mist you found yourself in.
Throwing a glance over your shoulder, you saw her on the complete opposite end of the sofa. The blanket you provided her with was brought up to her chin. She was red as a cherry tomato, presumably from all the crying. As you somehow got up on your feet, her crying turned up in volume and you realized she was afraid of you. Thanks to the red smeared all over your body, that little mind of hers couldn’t differentiate between you and Mr. Shin. Probably assuming what happened to him got you too.
“Nari, little flower.” She peeked between her fingers obscuring her view. “I’m alright. I’m not…”
I’m not like him. I’m safe. I’m well.
“I’m okay.”
Three years passed since the outbreak started. One thousand and something-something days of moving from location to location, clearing rundown gas stations and seven-elevens, surviving on canned food and dried fruits and nuts. It wasn’t particularly easy living an apocalypse with a child. The first month was spent shifting between crying for her parents and then mentally aging half a year every day. You, on the other hand, promised no more tears would be shed ever since you decapitated your sweet grandpa of a neighbor. A decision made for the safety of both yourself and Nari. The girl that was thrust into your care for a few hours turned into a lifelong partner, however long that would be.
Perched on the roof of an apartment building you spent the past month temporarily residing in, you thoroughly examined all the stuff you needed for the long journey waiting ahead. With the little resources you had left, it was safe to say your time in the capital was coming to an end. Every store in a one-mile radius had been emptied and those that were still full of necessities were in the red zone, also labeled a suicide mission.
A shadow loomed over you, obscuring the sun from your view and providing you with a cooling shade. “You tell me not to sit in the sun, but you’re doing the complete opposite?”
You looked up at Nari, your brows scrunched together and mouth pressed into a straight line. It was a poor attempt at a joke, Nari knew that much, but it didn’t stop her from sharing her lame humor with you even if it didn’t go far. Glancing between a packet of bandages and the bottle of alcohol, you weighed your options before throwing in the alcohol. If either of you got hurt, it’d be better to clean the wound with alcohol than to plaster on a bandage and call it a day.
Zipping up your backpack, you got on your feet and threw it around your shoulder. “Do as I say, not as I do.”
“That’s no fun.” She pouted and crossed her arms over her chest. The cap you found in a local store shop was one or two sizes too big for her head, but would fit right in about a year.
“Because fun gets you killed.”
You pushed the cap further down on her head and headed for the stairway. The sun was high in the sky and while it would be best to wait for the heat to pass, it would leave you with a lot of walking in the dark. Not the most ideal time to be outside as the biters were more active during the night.
“Okay, so when can I get a weapon? Like a gun-gun. Not a sharp stick.”
“We’ve already talked about this, Nari. The adult has the gun and the child keeps the map.”
“The map won’t help me fight bad guys.”
You smacked your tongue against the roof of your mouth and patted yourself down. The knife was in the holder attached to your hip and your gun was loaded with the safety lock on, resting against your other hip.
“No, but it will help you find safety which means no bad guys to encounter.” You unclasped the big chains looped through the metal handles of the roof entrance and opened the doors. “Ready?”
“As long as we find anything besides chips. Like was there an overconsumption of the salty potatoes in twenty-twenty four or what? Why are the stores full of them? I don’t get it. They taste like eating a handful of salt.”
Inheriting the guardian role of a child wasn’t something you planned to do until much later on in life. You weren’t prepared to take care of another being, let alone be responsible for their growth and not let them take on the personality of a psychopath. Through the long year of parenting and providing shelter and safety, you had a hard time finding the perfect balance between a strict and laid back aunt. While Nari still deserved to experience the life of a normal child, you were aware normal in a world full of rotting cannibals wasn’t the same as a year ago. Instead of playing with dolls and cars, children were taught how to work a gun and where to aim for a hundred percent kill.
Nari knew the theoristics. Their senses were diluted in the day and heightened at night, but a speck of blood would leave you vulnerable at any hour. The heart and brain were the weak points. For absolute certainty it was best to aim for the head even if a bullet was already lodged through their hearts. She knew all these facts, but had yet to take on a biter. Her kill count was a zero whilst you stopped counting after double digits. It was another thing you had taken upon your shoulders. As long as you were breathing and capable of clearing the path off obstacles, Nari’s hands would remain clean.
Before she could walk through the doors and take the lead, your arm shot out and halted her in place. A serious expression took over your features as you held Nari’s gaze.
“Remember; I need to see you and hear you at all times. Don’t stray from my line of vision, don’t just walk away and in case of an emergency–”
“Hide, sit and wait it out or run until my lungs are about to explode and my feet are covered in blisters.”
You inhaled deeply. Future you would either come to regret this decision or thank the heavens. From the pouch wrapped around your thigh, you took out a small switchblade.
“Good. That’s good.”
You flipped open the blade and wiped it against your thigh before folding it again. The switchblade wasn’t much of a use to you, ever since you found the combat knife hidden in the armory of some old man’s apartment. It was your companion for a little more than a year and saved you from a lot of trouble, but it was time to pass it on.
“I’m thinking…”
“Is that for me? Am I finally getting a weapon?!”
“As I was saying before being rudely interrupted, I was thinking of giving you my old switchblade.” You could practically see stars light up in her eyes. “But with the promise you won’t use it unless absolutely necessary, okay? That means it’s in your pockets and I only want to see it in your hand if it’s a life-or-death situation.”
“Yes, yes, yes!” Nari shuffled excitedly on her feet and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say your persistent rant entered through one ear and out the other.
Sighing again, you handed it over and watched with attentive eyes as she tested its functions. Then, as ordered, she stuffed it in her back pocket and gave you a determined nod. Leading the way down the long flight of stairs, you shared the plan you put together over the span of three days while Nari was asleep and you kept watch.
“I think it’s best if we head south. Most of the infected have probably been drawn by the loud sounds in the big cities, leaving the countryside vulnerable. The only thing I’m worried about is coming across other humans.”
“Sounds good. We can maybe grow crops and have cows or pigs? Aw, man, now I’m hungry for some pork belly.”
It was in these moments you were grateful for Nari’s presence. Her childish takes and questions were what kept your sanity intact. If it weren’t for her, you’d probably be roaming the infected streets like a lifeless monster gnawing at other humans.
“Sure. We’ll see what we can find, but ideally it’d be best to find shelter and then animals.”
“As long as I get to own a fluffy cow, I don’t care when or where. Don’t you think it’d be cool if I put a saddle on it and killed biters while riding her?”
The glare she received was hotter than the scorching sun and sharper than your knife. It was enough to keep her quiet for the majority of the journey, but it could only last for so long before she started firing questions again.
“Can I make a birthday wish this year? I promise to keep it realistic.”
You spotted a secluded shop that was yet to be raided for its goods. The windows were covered by planks — they seemed to be placed in a hurry — placed askew and barely shielding the glass panes behind the wood. The door was untouched, not a scratch on it besides the color chipping away and rust collecting on the chain tied around the handles. Nari was a smart kid. For her seventh birthday she didn’t ask for anything extravagant. A new pair of clothes, preferably a pink shirt and shoes. Because of safety reasons, the shoes were out of the picture unless you wanted to be an easy target. It’d be like spotting a Christmas tree in the middle of July. It wasn’t until her ninth year came around that she asked for the impossible; a dog. You couldn’t find a group of people that weren't out to kill you, let alone a creature with the appetite of a starving jaguar.
“Okay, let’s hear it.”
“Teach me how to use a gun?”
The four cans of peaches were placed close at hand and you quickly scooped them into your bag as the question looped in your mind. In a perfect world where people didn’t turn into rotting cannibalistic creatures, you’d never entertain the idea of a ten-year-old handling a weapon. But the world wasn’t perfect and her birthday wish was more logical than her wanting a Barbie doll. You really wanted to say no. Use the excuse of wanting to protect her innocence for a few more years, but what good would that bring her in a moment of desperation? What would be worse, a longer life haunted by nightmares or a short one full of flowers and bees?
“If we find a little one,” you muttered lowly and handed her a pack of sealed batteries.
She squealed and you masked your own smile with a scowl that immediately had her pressing a hand up to her mouth, a futile attempt to suppress the gleeful noise.
“Gotta make sure we don’t die before that though. You keep watch while I scavenge the place for anything useful. We’re leaving in five.”
The shelves were full. It was harder to pick things when you had more to choose from. You wanted nothing more than to stuff everything into two duffel bags and be on your merry way, but it would get you nowhere. The five minutes were spent choosing between bandages and medicine or extra food and nutrition. As you gave in and stuffed the two sealed medkits, the sharp whistle of a bird sounded through the store. Your head snapped up as cans clattered to the ground. Forgetting about the other necessities, you zipped up your bag and hid behind the shelves in the back where Nari too had taken shelter.
“What did you see?”
“A car. It stopped right out front, but I didn’t see who came out.”
The sound of the door opening killed the hushed conversation. Quite some time passed since you encountered other people, but each run-in was always more unpleasant than the previous and it left a sour taste in your mouth. Avoiding biters was easy — the creatures had rotting brains with no critical thinking — it was dealing with other humans that gave you a fright. There were already psychos in the normal world and you didn’t want to imagine what demons you’d be dealing with now.
Nari quietly slid down and sat on the floor, knees pressed up to her chest and a hand over her mouth, while you pulled out your gun and knife. Your wrists connected, making a human cross and the hand holding your gun rested on top of the one clutching the blade. Your finger was on the trigger with no fear of firing a bullet or two; anything to secure your survival.
The footsteps belonged to one person and you hoped whoever it was didn’t bring a friend. In a circumstance with the dead you’d throw something sturdy in the opposite direction of you, but dealing with other humans would take more than some trick. The best would be to avoid any bloodshed, take the car and leave fast as fuck.
As the walking ceased so did your thoughts and you were certain your heart could be heard all through Seoul. A can of pears rolled by, passing your hiding forms and stopped as it hit the wall opposite. Whoever was there seemed to have found the tumbled cans, a give-away that they weren’t alone.
“Come out,” they said calmly. The voice was deep and belonged to a man.
A curse died in your throat. Weighing your options, you glanced down at Nari and signaled for her to stay put. The man was obviously aware of your presence and with you as a distraction, Nari could get out. You weren’t worried about yourself more so over her safety. You could cut and swing and shoot, but Nari could only run and slash, and even that wouldn’t get her far. Left with no choice, you stepped out of your hiding with your arms locked and gun poised straight at the man.
Yeah, Nari would have a zero percent chance of outrunning this guy. He was taller than the shelves and the majority of his body consisted of legs and muscle. Not only that, but his arms were long too and he’d probably get to you in three steps or less, hands quick to grasp at your shoulders and neck. Hand-to-hand combat would leave you with a guaranteed loss and the safest bet would be to keep him at three arms lengths. Speaking of arms, he wore a black leather jacket. In fact, he as a whole was covered in black clothing — except for the white cap on his head — even his hands were adorned with fingerless gloves. Quite strange as you were in the middle of summer, but you had seen stranger things. Trailing downwards, you noticed a gun was semi-hiding beneath his jacket and you wondered what else dangerous he kept out of view.
The cock of a gun snatched your attention. A much bigger gun than the one in his waistband was in his hand and he made it out to be the size of a teaspoon. It looked ridiculous. Not only was this man tall as a skyscraper, but his hands were big enough to crush your head in.
Appearance wise — besides the overly traumatic analytic of his body proportions — he was quite handsome for living in an apocalypse, and clean too. Dark brown hair that tickled his nape and a fringe which nearly fell in front of his eyes. A long nose and round, but serious eyes which didn’t leave your figure since stepping in his line of vision. His lips, formed with a cupid’s bow, were pressed together and quite dry. If it weren’t for your unfortunate situation and the fact you didn’t care about him, you’d maybe offer him one of the hundred lip balms hanging by the cash register.
“Who are you?”
It must have been the dumbest question to date. What value did your identity have in a fucked up world?
“I could ask you the same thing.”
“And I asked first.”
You’ve held more mature conversations with Nari than this guy.
Sensing you weren’t willing to give up any personal information, he tried approaching the situation in a different manner. “Are you alone?”
“Yes,” you answered without skipping a beat. Your eyes were locked on his, refusing to glance in Nari’s direction.
The silent battle of not moving lasted for a few more seconds until he decided to break it.
“I’m Yunho.”
The muscles of your mouth twitched downward and you tightened the hold on your gun, the trigger still being hugged by your pointer finger. You couldn’t give less of a fuck if his name was Yunho, Bruno or Minho.
“I’m not here to cause trouble, I’m just looking for supplies. There’s a group of us, all very hungry and tired. We could use some of the food in here.”
“Beggars can’t be choosers.”
The corners of his lips curled in an amused grin. “No, they can’t, but all I’m asking for is a bit of compassion. You’re one person. We are a group of thirty-forty people. You surely don’t need all the food in here?”
A silly question. Everyone was either starving or injured, not to speak of completely sleep-deprived. Of course you needed everything. From the smallest piece of crumb to the canned mangoes five years out of date.
“Compassion flew out the window the moment I was attacked by other people. Who’s to say you won’t do the same?”
“If I wanted you dead, you’d have a bullet lodged between your eyes by now.”
Fuck this guy, you were not giving him shit.
“That was the wrong thing to say, wasn’t it? However, I don’t think you’d let me leave with anything to be honest,” he chuckled and lowered his gun. A bold move for a guy who was deliberately pissing you off.
“You’re finally getting the hang of things around here. I advise you to leave while I’m still being civil. It’d be a shame to end the life of someone so brave. Risking your life for thirty-something people. That’s hard to find nowadays.”
“Doesn’t take much. Maybe you should try it sometime.”
A comeback rested on the tip of your tongue, but was swallowed with a startle as vehicle lights seeped through the sealed windows and squealing tires stopped outside. You slid back behind the shelf where Nari was still seated on the dirty floor, but shimmied more over to the left so you could fit better. Both flinched as Yunho rounded the same corner. His eyes grew comically in size at the sight of Nari and if it weren’t for the newcomers, you were confident he’d make a comment about her presence. Probably something about honesty getting you far, which you clearly lacked, and you’d argue it left you with nothing but a broken nose.
As the door opened and multiple footsteps echoed through the store, Yunho stepped closer to you. His right hand came up next to your face as the other raised his gun, ready to attack if given the chance. His right hand was tense against the shelf and the only reason he wasn’t completely pressed up against you. The position was uncomfortable and you could smell a faint fragrance of lavender and some other herb emitting from the wrist next to your cheek. His other hand was raised up to his head, the pointer finger on the trigger and his face turned sideways as if to work out when would be the best time to attack.
“Be careful, that engine was still hot. They couldn’t have gone very far,” a gruff voice exploded through the store. Great more men.
“Looks like this one wasn’t raided, Boss,” another man announced, his voice squeaky and unpleasant for the ears, as a third guy whooped in delight.
Light as a feather, your fingers brushed against his elbow closest to your head and the brief contact was enough for him to find your eyes. You nodded to something behind him and Yunho held your gaze before slightly turning sideways. A door was left ajar. Usually, you’d never enter a space without checking it free from infected or traps, but it was either meeting these strangers head on with a guy you were ready to blow the head off a few seconds ago or going head on into danger.
Yunho prodded the side of his cheek with his tongue and pointed at Nari. He wanted her to go first, but you were quick to shut the thought down. As much as it drove you crazy to leave Nari in his wake for a moment or two, it was safer than having her deal with biters alone. Your pointer finger was driven into his peck and Yunho shook his head. What a gentleman. There was no time to argue so you pointed at yourself, then at Nari and lastly at Yunho. He wordlessly agreed and you gave a quick pat to the top of Nari’s head. As you pushed off the shelf, Yunho grabbed your bicep and it took everything in you not to drive your knife in the side of his torso. It was then you discovered one of the men standing in your blindspot and had you stepped out he would’ve definitely seen you. The man turned around and Yunho’s fingers were off you in seconds, giving you the green light to go. Stealthy as a cat and quick as a bunny, you disappeared behind the door without alerting the men.
You found yourself in a passageway leading to a bigger space which you recognized as a storage room. The rest of the room was bigger than the front of the store and somewhere in the far back, behind stacks of prepackaged foods and other goods, you could see a green emergency sign, probably a door leading to the outside world. Your only concern being if something was against it on the other side. Seconds later, Nari came through and the world spun faster than it’s normal at a thousand miles per hour.
“We have to help him!” She hissed and pulled at your wrist back to where you came from.
“Help who?”
“Yunho! They’ve spotted him or, no, they saw me, but he went out of hiding so they wouldn’t go after me.”
“Nari, stop. We have to go.”
“What!? We can’t just leave him.”
You tore your wrist out of her grip and latched onto her shoulders in return. “The fuck we can’t. He’s not my priority. You are.”
“He tried to help us and even got us both to safety! Please, Auntie, it’s the right thing to do.”
“What did I tell you about playing the hero? We’re not in some video game, Nari. It’s the real world. Just because it’s right doesn’t mean you’ll get out of there alive and I’ve done a lot to ensure our safety. I won’t let some stupid men be the reason I lose you, do you hear me?”
She shook out of your embrace and pushed you back. Tears littered her waterline and lips wobbled from holding back sobs. “Why are you so mean?”
No punch to the gut would make you lose your breath the way those five words did. How would you explain to a child that the last years were all for her own good at the same time as you were letting someone else die?
“Fuck,” you whispered and clutched the roots of your hair. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
You checked the magazine of your gun and counted six bullets. All you needed was three.
“Okay, fuck. Here’s what we’ll do. You clear this area. Take anything that’s useful and not heavy, okay? I’ll go check the situation outside. Whatever happens, don’t fucking think of coming for us. Do you understand?”
“But–”
“I said, do you understand?”
Hesitation swirled in Nari’s eyes and she gnawed on her lower lip. Agreeing with your conditions meant she was practically leaving you for the dead and while you always returned, safe and untouched, it made her more aware of this being real with no take-backs. Remembering the kindness Yunho showed within the second he met you, Nari couldn’t take it for granted and be selfish.
“I understand.”
Slamming the magazine back in your gun, you nodded. “Good. If I’m not back in a few, get out and run.”
First, you were unofficially tasked with guarding a literal child, and now you were sent on a rescue mission for a literal stranger.
The door was still not entirely closed and before you dared to peek your head out, a couple voices along with Yunho’s filled the silence. “I’m telling you, I came alone.”
“And I’m supposed to believe that the Wrangler outside is driven by one man only? Be honest, how many people do you have hiding in the storage room?”
Yunho sighed exasperatedly. “Four less than what’s out here, so you do the math.”
“Boss, this guy thinks he’s funny. Want me to take him out or leave him to suffer?” The pipsqueak asked and by his voice alone you could guess he wasn’t much taller than a fifth grader.
“Don’t do shit, Mouse. I want to find that lil girl first.”
The blood in your veins ran cold at the mention of Nari. Now you had to kill them or they’d circle back to you.
“Say less, Boss.”
“Lizard, keep your eye on him and Mouse? Go check that room.”
Changing positions, you hid behind the door, handgun exchanged with your combat knife and raised up in front of you. The heartbeats were loud in your ears and mouth dry from nervousness. All you had to do was catch him off guard and the rest would fall into place.
The door opened inward and you pressed further into the wall, completely disappearing from his line of sight. Gently, you nudged it back in place and stalked behind the supposed Mouse. You were right, the man wasn’t tall and Yunho put him to shame with those long legs of his. Light on your feet almost as if floating through the air, you inched closer to him and advanced. Your hand went over his mouth, index finger and thumb pinching his nose shut, and the knife plunged hard into his back. Mouse barely struggled, which was a given, and you gently let him down. To guarantee he wouldn’t come back and bite you in the ass, quite literally, you allowed the blade to go through his skull, ending any chance of possessed resurrection.
One down. Two to go.
It would only be a question of time until their boss sent out the second guy to look for Mr. Pipsqueak over here and it wasn’t like you could dispose of the body and clean up all the blood. Whatever you’d do next would catch the attention of the leader and you hoped Yunho’s height wasn’t just a show off, but that he could actually take him on. For all you know they could be from the same community. Yunho did mention they were thirty to forty people.
Taking Mouse by his armpits, you dragged the body away from the door and hid it behind some crates. There was still a track of blood smeared all over the tiles leading straight to the body. It was how you wanted it to be. Mouse wasn’t completely useless. A flashlight was attached to his hip along with a fairly bigger gun than your own — you recognized it as a glock — and a taser. These guys were either a part of previous law enforcement or raided the place. You tore the bag off his shoulders and flung it over your own, it wasn’t heavy at all and you hoped he at least had some extra bullets. Feeling like you wasted enough time you hid behind two boxes stacked on top of each other on the opposite side of Mouse. Whoever entered would react to his body first before they’d catch a whiff of you.
Any time now, you thought and crouched into position. As if speaking into existence, the door swung violently and collided with the wall behind, and your muscles tensed. The grip on your knife tightened and you refrained from breathing too loud. You refrained from breathing at all.
“What the fuck?”
Your plan was in motion as Lizard immediately noticed the blood. Anyone cautious enough would think of it as a biter attack and not something created by a pair of human hands. As thought, the man crossed the nonexistent threshold into the actual storage room and immediately saw his comrade in a forever slumber. He hastily turned around, gun up in the air and eyes wide, a wildfire spread in them as he locked gazes with you. His open mouth formed into a mean scowl and as his finger hugged the trigger, you lunged forward with your arms out. They pushed against his and — to your favor — changed the trajectory of his gun. The bullet was fired up in the sky, marking the start of your fight.
Lizard shook you off himself and you fell with a roll landing behind more crates and boxes. As you got up on your feet, a pair of hands grabbed you by the collar of your shirt and smashed you back down. The air was knocked out of you and the telltales of a concussion quickly flooded your body. Your brain wasn’t getting enough oxygen and the world was spinning faster than a thousand miles per hour. Lizard threw a knee over each side of your hips and grasped a firmer hold around your neck. The air you were craving didn’t enter your lungs. Panic and the instinct to survive seeped in your veins as you desperately clawed at his hands.
“You fucking bitch. Think you could take us out, huh?” He hauled you off the floor only to slam you back down. “C’mon, do something now. You can’t, can you? You bitches are good for nothing.” He chucked sinisterly. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it so you feel everything before I let you turn into those devil spawns.”
It felt disgusting. His rough hands on your skin and spit flying in your face. Tears clouded your eyes and the more he squeezed, the more it felt like they were going to pop out of your skull. It wouldn’t surprise you if veins were prominent on your head and neck or your nails turned a creepy shade of blue. You wondered if you looked as scary as the rotten biters.
Lizard was staring into your soul. He made it his life mission to take you out. To see the life slip from you. If you weren’t on the verge of death with hands restricting your vocal chord, you’d ask him what woman rejected him to be calling you a bitch every five seconds. Too caught up with seeing you die, he was completely unaware of anything else. Eyes crazy and mouth pulled upwards, the happy expression scared you more than anything else and perhaps it was what still kept you going. Your arm was extended, fingers fighting to grasp the knife which was just about out of your reach. Black spots appeared in the air and it was getting harder and harder to stay conscious.
“Dumb bitch, do you think I’m fucking blind?”
Your combat knife landed in his hand — the other still pushing at your neck — and came up against your cheek. The sharp point rested against your delicate skin.
“I should leave a mark. What do you think? You’re quite pretty for a bitch.”
Garbled words were whispered out in the open. Realizing you wanted to say something, he let up on his hold. The inhale of oxygen was sharp and hurt more than it did soothe your lungs.
“What did you say, scum?”
“I said,” you inhaled deeply and raspily exclaimed, “go fuck yourself!”
Your thick spit mixed with blood launched and landed straight in his eye. The knife was temporarily off your face as he wiped the saliva off his own.
“Should have picked a better choice of last words.”
A subsonic round went off and your heart stopped. When did Lizard get a hold of his gun?
Warm, sticky blood splattered all over your face and your skin burned beneath the thick liquid. Lizard went limp and fell forward, and you wasted no time pushing him off you. He landed with a thud. The crazy from his eyes was gone and now he was left to stare lifelessly at the ceiling of a random storage room. More blood pooled on the floor and you stared at him, chest heaving and oxygen slowly getting back in your system. Your hearing was overtaken by a buzzing sound, like the whistle of a kettle or the harsh wind of a storm, and didn’t fully return until a few minutes later. Noticing a figure, you tore your gaze away from the body and it landed on something more lively. In front of you — not a scratch to his face and a few splatters of red adorning his cheeks and forehead — stood Yunho, one hand holding his gun and the other stuffed in the front pocket of his pants. His eyes trailed all over you, but lingered longer at the area around your neck, for what reason you couldn’t bother grasping as you were too busy catching your breath. Done ogling you, Yunho stuffed the gun in the holster attached to his hip and waited for you to accept his hand.
“Is your compassion back now?”
“Auntie!”
The familiar voice of Nari snapped you out of the pain. You whipped your head around and were met with a flash of black hair and thin arms circling around you, pulling you closer to a shuddering body. The smell of rose petals and dirt wrapped around you in a secure blanket.
“Nari,” you croaked out.
“You scared me.”
No words could relay how sorry you were and instead you embraced her in a hug, your hand coming to caress the back of her head as the other was gently laid on her back. Something wet hit your shoulder and seeped into your bloodied shirt.
“It’s okay.”
You didn’t sound okay and your throat may have hurt, and you’d just gotten the cloud of darkness out of your view, but none of it mattered. Having Nari in your arms unharmed meant you were well too. Yunho silently stared at the intimate moment unraveling before his eyes. The forty people waiting for him back at camp were the equivalent of your one niece and he understood that. Everyone had people they’d do anything for, someone keeping them going in this living hell. Nari was your person. She helped you back on your legs. A bit shaky, but up nonetheless. With the back of your hand, you wiped away as much blood off your face as possible, but it felt like you were smearing it around.
“Here.”
You jumped at the four-letter-word and pushed Nari behind you. Yunho, who was holding your knife, gun and a rag you hadn’t seen before, didn’t take offense to your heightened protectiveness. You nearly died at the hands of another man, he’d be worried if you weren’t cautious of him. He gingerly held out your things and planted them in the palms of your hands.
“I didn’t think you’d wait around.”
“I wasn’t,” you confessed and cleaned your face. The rag smelled of oil and tires. “But she talked me into it so if you’re going to thank someone, thank the kid.”
At the mention of her doing, Nari peeked over your shoulder only to retreat as Yunho’s eyes found hers. Cute, he thought and smiled at her timidity.
“I know she makes the last calls, but thanks, kiddo. I’d probably be in a lot of trouble if it weren’t for you.”
A long silence settled over you. The fingers of Lizard still ghosted over your neck, an imaginary pressure squeezing your tendons and making you fight for air. With the expectation to touch the digits of someone else, your fingers ran alongside the tender area and the suffocating feeling disappeared. Yunho followed your movements, jaw clenched and eyes darkening at the sight of gradually growing blue and purple bruises on your skin.
“We part ways here,” you declared and returned the cloth.
“You think that’s a good idea?”
Yunho didn’t mean for it to come out as a threat and he backtracked when your stance grew defensive, your hand armed with the knife raised and the other was thrown protectively in front of Nari.
“It’s dangerous at night and you’re hurt. Come back to camp with me. My people, we could patch you up and give you food and medicine until you’re good enough to go out on your own.”
“Not a chance in hell.”
“Look, I know you’re suspicious of me. I get that, but I won’t hurt you. If I wanted you dead–”
“I’d have a bullet lodged between my eyes. I know, but I could also get a knife lodged through my back or neck snapped when least expected.”
Yunho sighed. “If you don’t think you need the help, at least think of your niece. A week or two where she doesn’t have to wake up wondering if you’ll have enough food and water to last you for the day. Don’t you think she deserves to have a break too? Where she can act her age and not be alert every waking hour of the day?”
What kind of question was that? Of course you wanted Nari to have a normal life. Where she could meet friends, go to the mall after school, have boyfriends and girlfriends, experience her first heartbreak whether it be romantic or platonic. You wanted it all for her. You’d hand pluck each and every star in the sky if she asked you to. What you weren’t going to do, was put her in harm's way.
“You’re asking me to do the impossible… Choosing between living and surviving.”
A small hand came to rest on your lower back, fingers weaving into your shirt and anchoring you. It didn’t make you flinch, the contact was an all too familiar occurrence by now. A wordless reminder to take a breather and actually think things through. To not make decisions based on what was right or wrong, safe or dangerous, life or death. Throwing a glance over your shoulder and seeing the sullen expression on Nari’s face was enough of a reason to accept Yunho’s offer.
This girl would be the death of you and you’d have it no other way.
The ride to Yunho’s camp lasted for well over a day, but you didn’t set off until the sun peeked over the tall buildings of Seoul. You were already taking a risk trusting Yunho, the last thing you needed was a run in with the biters at night. On the bright side, it gave you more than enough time to search the store for necessities. There was little to no space left in Yunho’s Jeep and you were assured, if rationed sparingly, the supplies would last his group for a week or two.
Beautiful scenery of abandoned farms and vibrant, lively forests passed in blurs. You couldn’t remember the last time you were out of the city. Away from skyscrapers, ditched vehicles and hoards of biters. At some point you passed a group of horses that once belonged to humans, but turned wild. Yunho switched the blinker to the left before turning, a built-in reflex from years of driving in normal traffic. He glanced in the rearview mirror and smiled. Nari was sprawled out in the backseat, her bag sufficed as a pillow and a purple stuffie — which Yunho had a hard time figuring out the species of — was trapped in her arms. He wondered how a girl seemingly his age and a child lasted so long without a network to lean back on.
“What did you do? You know, before everything went to shit?”
The greenery was replaced with Yunho’s profile. You lingered a little, taking in the slope of his nose, pouty lips and pinkish ears. The ends of his hair curled, tickling his nape and falling over his eyes. As he averted his gaze for a split second, you hastily looked back out the window.
“Nothing. I had recently moved to Seoul with a fresh diploma. The plan was to find a job and save up for traveling and other shit, but job hunting didn’t go as expected so I worked part time babysitting my neighbor's daughter until an opportunity would present itself. The outbreak happened before I could put my education to use.”
“She’s not your niece?”
“Not by blood, no, but she’s the closest thing to a family I have left.”
It took a while until Yunho said something else. The running engine and the crunch of tires on gravel mixed with the stillness of the countryside. The conversation sent you down memory lane. Images of your dad teaching you how to ride a back and then a car popped up like an ad that shifted to one of your many girl’s days with your mom. Not bearing the cumbersome memories, you rolled down the window and aired the car out.
“What about you? What were you doing?”
Yunho jolted and the car swirled left then right until it was back to driving in a straight line. A loud groan came from the back. Nari sat up, eyes squinted and lips pouting as a hand came up to rub against the back of her head. The driver offered her a sheepish smile and a whispered apology. He cleared his throat and pressed on the pedal, the car accelerated and with enough speed he shifted his right foot on the clutch and changed into a higher gear.
“I was working in a repair shop. School wasn’t it for me and I knew a dude whose father worked with cars so he pulled some strings and before I knew it, boom, I was seventeen and employed.”
For a second, you imagined him in blue working pants, a white tank top and smudges of oil on his fingers and cheeks. Maybe far in the future when you bought a car and it eventually broke down or needed an oil change, you’d stumble into his workplace and meet him there. No threat of having your brains blown out or body gnawed on by the infected, but be welcomed by his cheeky smile and the question of what needed to be fixed today.
“So you can teach me how to drive?” Nari burst your bubble. Her head peeked out from between the two front seats, one arm latched onto the headrest of Yunho’s seat and her upper body completely crossed over to the front.
“Car rule, kiddo.”
An annoyed sigh left her lips as she dramatically flung back in her spot. With no hurry behind her moves, she buckled the seatbelt and crossed her arms over her chest.
“And no, he can't teach you how to drive," you added shortly after Yunho.
Nari snapped her mouth shut and sank further down in her seat. You’d reconsider if she asked for it as a gift for her birthday, but that wish was already decided. While it could be necessary for survival, most of the cars you found were already emptied of gas and what good would it bring her if she couldn’t see over the wheel? She was already pushing it with wanting to handle a gun.
“I mean, I don’t mind going through the basics–”
Much like Nari, Yunho sealed his mouth shut at the scorching heat of your glare. No more words were exchanged apart from Nari asking Yunho about this supposed camp. Questions about how big it was, were there animals, were there dogs, what kind of rooms they had and other questions reminding you she was just a kid.
“We have a dog.”
“A dog! What’s its name?!”
Yunho hummed, “His name is Heart.”
As the two got into a nice conversation about the dog, stars glimmering in their eyes and hearts overflowing with joy, you caught wind of movement in the distance. A singular figure stopped in the middle of the road and at first glance it was almost mistaken for a biter, but as they raised their arms up and took on the stance of a functioning man you realized you weren’t dealing with the infected. Eyes widening and brain not functioning to produce the words, you rapidly started hitting the dashboard.
“What?” Yunho glanced over at you and then back through the windshield, still not seeing anything alarming.
“Stop the fucking car!”
The bullets moved faster than Yunho could slam down on the brakes and tore right through the glass, piercing him in the shoulder. Nari screamed and Yunho tried avoiding the shooter, but the pain made it hard to maneuver the wheel and he drove into the person, killing them right on the spot. You turned around to check on Nari, hoping not one of the three bullets grazed her skin and as the car swiveled to the sides, you faced the front again. View obscured by cracks in the glass and shards flying everywhere, it was hard to make out the road and it wasn’t until you got closer to the other vehicles that you screamed.
“Watch out!”
The collision sent you into a deep sleep that would last until the sun kissed the horizon and greeted the moon on her way out. Stars twinkled in the sky, no city lights or air pollution there to dim the pretty view. You woke up with a stir. A heavy ache spread through the back of your head and spread to the front. Chirping of crickets and raspy groans filled the silence. You put a hand up to your head, feeling for a cut or blood or any injury to have you lightheaded, but there was nothing.
“Fuck,” you managed to get out through a dry mouth.
Unbuckling the belt, you turned around and were met with a switchblade in your face and Nari’s teary eyes staring at you. Furrowing your brows, a noise akin to a confused hum left you and your gaze ventured to a passed-out Yunho.
“Please, please, please don’t be one of them. Please, don’t make me do this. Anyone but you.”
You glanced back at Nari and saw big, fat tears running down her cheeks. The knife in her hand was shaking and her breathing was unstable. Images of the incident flashed in your mind; the shooting, Yunho’s shoulder, the collision, you losing consciousness.
“Nari, are you alright? Are you hurt?”
As you moved further over the console to see her better, she shimmied backwards and yelped.
“Don’t touch me! Please.”
You weren’t scared of the weapon, but of the one behind it. However, in this situation, you knew Nari wasn’t capable of hurting a fly let alone the one person who cared for her. The knowledge didn’t soothe your mind. Clasping your hands around her shaking ones, you took the switchblade out of her hold and ran your thumb soothingly over her skin.
“It’s okay. We’re okay.”
“Yunho,” she started and wiped her nose. “He’s hurt. There was so much blood and, and–”
You couldn’t fathom how you didn’t notice his bare body, the bloodied bandage going around his shoulder and chest, or his faint breathing as if barely there.
“I– I tried fixing it. I used one of our medkits to stop the bleeding, but I didn’t know how.”
Your fingers gently pressed on his bandage and then you hovered them beneath his nose. “No, it’s good, I think you've stopped the bleeding. It’s his breathing I’m concerned about.”
“Why?”
“It’s weak. We have to get him to that camp.”
You unbuckled his seatbelt and moved his chair further back. With gentle slaps to his face, you called his name. God knows what you’d do if he didn’t wake up. There was no way you’d be able to carry him out of the car and into the backseat.
“Come on, wake up!” You hissed and started pulling at his eyelids. It was after the fifth repeat of his name that he fluttered them open.
“Angel?”
“Who’s Angel?” Nari asked.
Disregarding her question, you gave him one more chaste slap to the cheek. “Are you with me?”
Yunho nodded and tried to sit up, only to groan in pain and fall back.
“Yeah, buddy. I don’t know if you remember, but you got shot. It looks pretty bad and we need to get you help.”
“It hurts.”
“I can imagine. Can you hold out until you’re in the back?”
With a determined nod and sigh of exasperation the plan was in motion. Before jumping out into the dark, you scoped out the area and spotted a handful of biters standing quite far from the car.
“We gotta be quick,” you warned and ran over to Yunho’s side.
Throwing open the door and placing his uninjured arm over your shoulders, you helped him — more like pulled him — out of the car. Nari was quick to open the backdoor from inside and move away. Blood drew from how hard you were biting your tongue. He was making quite a fuss and the last thing you needed was to gather the attention of the biters. By the time you were behind the wheel, Nari had jumped to the front from between the seats.
“Will you be able to see?” Nari gestured to the broken windshield.
By some miracle, the whole glass was still intact except for the one hole created by the bullet currently inside Yunho’s shoulder. The other shots probably hit something less vital or completely missed the vehicle.
“Yeah, it’s not that bad. Annoying? Definitely, but manageable. Just put on the seatbelt and give me your map.”
Doing as told, you unfolded the paper and turned to Yunho. “Okay, hey. Hey! Are you with me? Good. Now, point out where we’re going.”
Slow as ever and shaking like a baby foal, he managed to press his finger on the paper and you were quick to mark it down with a pen.
“Good, that’s good. Nari, you keep an eye on him. If he falls asleep, wake him. We don’t want him sleeping for more than a few minutes at a time. If he shows any sign of turning, and I mean any sign, you tell me or we’re all as good as screwed.”
“Got it.”
The most recent time you handled a car, you were still living with your parents and only really used the family car for when going somewhere out of town. Driving was like walking. Once you got it down it was a part of your nervous system. Sure, your skills could get rusty the longer you went without driving, but they sat in the back of your mind like the multiplication table.
You were an hour into the drive and by your calculations, you wouldn’t reach the spot for another two.
“Who do you think Angel is?”
“It’s none of my concern, Nari.”
“No, but I’m curious. Do you think it’s a friend?” Your silence spurred her on. “Or a girlfriend?” She tauntingly wiggled her brows and you had half a mind not to steer the car into a tree.
“Again, it really isn’t my or your business.”
“What Korean person is named Angel though? Isn’t that, like, really foreign?” Nari gasped dramatically. “What if it’s his child? People are more modern with names these days, but he does look a bit too young to be a dad…”
“Nari,” you said, a sternness to your tone.
“Okay, okay… But what if he thought you were an angel?”
It was going to be a long two hours.
Multiple signs with poor writing were stationed with a distance of ten miles between each board. The words were in black — whether it be by paint, a marker or a spraycan, you didn’t know — with an arrow showing what direction to follow.
“Sector one, all survivors are welcome. Doesn’t sound that bad, right?”
You scratched the side of your neck. The consistent position of sitting with your arms stretched out and feet on the pedals was giving you an ache in your back.
“I guess we’ll just have to see. How’s he holding up?”
Nari wiped sweat off Yunho's forehead. “He’s still breathing. A bit sweaty, but he’s not burning up.”
“We’ll be there soon enough. Let’s hope at least one of these forty people is a doctor or something. There’s only so much a medkit can do.”
Noticing another sign, you flashed the high beams and lit up the whole road. The only difference about this poster was the additional wooden plank beneath reading, five kilometers away and an arrow showing left. Doing as the sign read, you turned left and came off the street into a secluded path obscured by trees and bushes. It was big enough for three mid-sized cars, but it was still suffocating. If anything jumped out, you’d only have the option to run them over.
“This is scary,” Nari whispered from the back as if a louder volume would draw an army of people or biters from nowhere.
“Agreed.” You stepped on the gas and advised Nari to hold on as the road was getting bumpier the faster you went. Yunho’s head bobbed to the side and hit the window multiple times until Nari placed Spiderfrog between them.
The forest gradually grew further and further away from the road until a chain-linked fence creeped into the view. What came next was like something taken out of a fairy tale. On the other side stood big cement walls with barbed wire continuing all around the top edge. It was already impossible to climb them due to their height, but the steel spikes made it abundantly clear to not even try. Each corner of the walls had a little house, like a treehouse created out of stone, with a perfect sight miles away. The greenery separated the remaining world from the castle-like building and you wondered where in hell you had arrived. As the magic of a fairy tale evaporated into thin air, it dawned on you where Yunho’s group had taken shelter.
At a prison.
“Look.” Nari’s arm came through the middle and her index finger raised at something so obvious it should’ve been the first thing to catch your eye.
The Jeep slowed down as you lightly pressed on the brakes and shifted down in the first gear. A sign bigger than all of the previous ones you’d seen combined was nailed to the gates of the chain fence. There were actually two signs, one nailed to each door.
Welcome to Sector One.
Pulling on the handbrake and turning the keys sideways, you breathed out as the vibrations of the car came to a stop. The keys were left in the ignition. You weren’t going to take chances on an ambush happening and you panicking with finding the right key, inserting it and starting the car without stalling.
Checking your gun and reloading it with the bullets you found in Mouse’s bag, you turned to Nari. “I’ll go first. Don’t get out until I give a signal that it’s clear, alright?”
“Yes.”
You gave them one last glance. Yunho looked peaceful, but lacked the warmness he greeted you with and although you didn’t know him well enough, it was still weird seeing him like that. Treading on the thin line between sleep and death. Then there was Nari. The girl had grown… you wouldn’t say attached, but rather fond of him and his kindness. There weren’t a lot of people who offered you a roof over your heads and food in your tummies, besides, she was still young when the breakdown happened. Not nearly enough time spent in this world to create bonds with more people, especially kids her age. Yunho was — other than you — her closest thing to a friend, someone she deliberately chose to befriend and stand up for. Something was telling you he wasn’t about to leave your lives any time soon and if this place proved to be as good as he was making it to be, you'd be forever in his debt.
You stepped out of the car and quickly surveyed the area. It was still dark out and the moon was high up in the sky. Staying on alert with your gun ready, you stalked closer to the gates. The towers seemed to be empty of watchers and you didn’t know whether to feel happy or wary of it. If the place was safe, shouldn’t someone be on the lookout? The sound breaching your ears seconds before Yunho was upgraded with a new wound to his body went off again and a bullet — you couldn’t see, but feel — skimmed past your toes. If you had a penny for every time you were shot at, you’d have two. Not the biggest number in town, but it sure was crazy considering it all happened in the span of a few hours.
Clasping your gun between both of your hands, you aimed it high and looked around. The bullet came from a place where the shooter had a perfect view of everything. Your eyes widened as a body that wasn’t there seconds ago stood in the tower closest to the gate. No wonder you didn’t see them, they blended perfectly in with the dark swirls of the sky. You’d argue their black clothes — a hood pulled over their head and swallowing them completely — were darker than the background. However, it wasn’t their sudden appearance that had you frozen in place, it was the rifle resting in their embrace.
“Drop the gun and step back,” they shouted and when you didn’t comply, they continued. “Drop the gun or have your brains blown out. It’s your decision, sweetheart.”
Cursing the mysterious person didn’t feel like it would give you free entry into Sector One. Then again, if it meant dealing with armed people shooting without a thought behind their heads then you didn’t want in. For the sake of Nari though, you did as the guy ordered and raised your hands in a mocking gesture.
“Kick it away from you!”
“Are you serious?” You mumbled beneath your breath. The guy was really testing your patience. Playing the part of an obedient dog, you sent your handgun hurling toward the gates.
“Nice Jeep you have there. Where’d you get it?”
“A friend of mine.”
In any other circumstance Yunho wouldn’t be described as your friend. Heck, you couldn’t even call him an acquaintance. The guy was still a stranger in your eyes, but you wouldn’t test your luck with the rifle-guy.
He chuckled — dare you say charmingly — and lowered the rifle so it was resting on the rails of the tower.
“That’s funny because my friend has the exact same car with the exact same logo on the front and last time I checked, he went out alone for some dog food and not with some girl. So, let’s try this again… Nice Jeep you have there. Where’d you get it?”
“Yunho. His name is Yunho. A funny guy, quite tall too.”
Rifle-guy moved with such speed that the hood slid off his head. The weapon was raised again and you were certain he was a millimeter away from shooting you dead.
“What did you do to him? You better answer fast or I’ll send so many bullets through you, we’ll alert every biter in a ten mile radius.”
“He’s in the back. Breathing, but barely. He offered me a place to stay and we got attacked on our way here… I stopped the bleeding, but there’s no guarantee of his survival.”
Time seemed to stop as the guy didn’t move. You didn’t dare breathe louder and tensed your whole body from moving an inch. Anyone with a weapon aimed at you and their finger on the trigger wasn’t to be trusted. A bullet could be fired with the slightest of movement and you weren’t about to suffer the same fate as Yunho for breathing a little harder or accidentally losing your footing.
Feeling impatient you cleared your throat and spoke up. “I can show you… Yunho. I can show you he’s in the backseat.”
“How do I know you won’t get something to shoot me with?”
“Because people who have something to lose won’t act so recklessly.”
“And, do pray tell, what is it that you value so highly?”
Letting out a shaky sigh, you slowly turned your head sideways and looked through the cracked windshield. The guy couldn’t see her, but you and Nari made immediate eye contact. You flickered your right hand forward slowly and she caught onto what you were trying to convey. The backdoor opened and with a copy of your stance, Nari exited the car, arms high and vacant of the switchblade you gifted her. She came up to stand beside you, a tight-lipped smile on her face. The guard was taken back as a literal child appeared. Of all the people he encountered over the wall, not once had he aimed the muzzle at a kid. It was usually Yunho or some of the others who brought them in. He dealt with grown strangers who were lost or searched for cover. Rifle-guy closed his gaping mouth and lowered his weapon again.
“Stay there. I don’t want either of you to move,” he explained and proceeded to talk into a device.
A lamp on the other side of the fence lit up and two figures appeared from a door leading into the building. They were heavily armed, so much you could see, and were of a great build. One was challenging the other with his height — he even gave Yunho a run for it — but the other made up with his broad shoulders. Both carried a rifle each and had thick vests going over their chests, leaving you wondering what kind of camp this was. Were all newcomers welcomed with a rifle straight out of the military embassy and a one-month training program to become ripped?
The pair stopped and just stared at you through the fence. The headlights of Yunho’s Jeep reached to their knees, but made their faces more visible. The first thing catching your attention was the freshly bleached hair on the tall one. It looked ridiculous, but his serious expression scared you into being quiet. Not to mention his sharp yet round eyes which told you he wasn’t amused by your presence. He stuck out like a sore thumb. His companion was more subtle, with parted black hair and a short fringe falling in front of his eyes, but in a fashionable way and not the my-hair-is-a-mess way. Speaking of his eyes, they were sharper than Mr. Snow White over there, but held the heat of a bored tiger. He had very prominent cheekbones and naturally styled brows every model dreamed of having. The sleeveless shirt he was wearing gave a beautiful view of his thick arms, you’d argue his one bicep was the size of your head.
The men were as handsome as they were dangerous and you first realized how unfortunate of a situation you were in. Yunho was a nice guy, but his actions didn’t seem to reflect those of his friends. The sound of the gates opening by a mechanic whirring snapped you out of your worrisome thoughts.
“Don’t move,” said the white-haired one. His voice deeper than the ocean and struck you to the core.
You wanted to let him know you weren’t planning on it, the threat of rifle-guy hanging over your head. As Snow White advanced to the car and picked up your abandoned gun on his way, his friend held you at gunpoint. You cast a quick glance to the watchtower and saw rifle-guy doing the same thing, his weapon supposedly aimed at Nari. Their positions didn’t change, not even when the car door opened and Yunho was carefully thrown over his friend’s shoulder. The pair shared a look and you were ushered back in the car before you could ask about Yunho’s well-being. Nari followed shortly and it confused you as to why she sat in the passenger seat. When the black haired guy sat right behind you, gun positioned toward Nari, you understood.
“Drive up to the door. Don’t think of doing anything funny and I won’t hurt the kid.”
Through the rear-view mirror you held his heated gaze and he raised a perfectly arched brow as if daring you to disobey. Giving up, you started the car and did as ordered. If you had known you’d be rewarded with your heroism by having a gun pressed to Nari’s head, you'd have taken the Jeep and left Yunho on the side of the road. Instead, you listened to a freshly turned ten-year-old and got thrown into a jail cell, all for trying to help a guy not die. It could have been worse, you tried convincing yourself. The guards — is what you decided to call them — could have separated you and Nari.
You didn’t expect much of the prison. The most you knew was from textbooks and documentaries online, and the material didn’t give you the best image of the place. You expected dirt, filth and wickedness everywhere. The prisons you heard of gave nothing to the prisoners, they treated them like animals with shitty food and equally shitty sleeping arrangements. To see your cell furnished with a bunk bed, a table in the corner and blankets, you were bewildered. San — the shorter guy with broad shoulders and a tiny waist — locked you in with the promise of returning shortly. Staying true to his words he came back, but with the company of Mr. Snow White. The only real bad side to this arrangement was them taking away all your weapons. Nari’s switchblade, and your combat knife and handgun were all in the possession of San.
“Up to the wall,” he ordered and didn’t lock up the door until your backs were one with the wall. Mr. Snow White entered first with two trays in hand. Your eyes quickly scanned what he was holding. It was food and water. You weren’t going to lie, the food looked appetizing and you hadn’t eaten a warm meal in a good while, but you knew better than to accept food from strangers.
Mr. Snow White placed the trays on the table and straightened back up. He cleared his throat and clasped his hands behind his back. “I’m Mingi.”
Your eyes didn’t leave his and the neutral expression on your face didn’t falter. He didn’t move and you realized he was waiting to hear your names. You licked your dry lips and glared harder at him. You weren’t going to tell him any–
“Nari. I’m Nari,” she spoke up from beside you.
You whipped your head toward her and she was purposefully avoiding your gaze. You couldn’t believe your ears. There wasn’t a critical thought behind that head of hers. Glancing back at Mingi, he raised a brow and tilted his head sideways. Being left with no other choice, you gave up your name. Just because you were exchanging pleasantries didn’t mean you were going to be all friendly with them though. They literally took you hostage after you helped one of theirs.
“Okay… Uh, eat.”
As San fiddled with the jail doors, you coughed up the courage to ask about Yunho.
The jingling of his keys stopped and San looked up at you. The fierce aura from when he held you at gunpoint and growled threats in your ears was replaced by an unexpected softness. His eyes didn’t send blades your way and the corners of his mouth weren't pulled in a scowl. Everything about him was completely different and for a flicker of a second you could see the same compassion lit in his soul as well as Yunho’s.
“He’s okay. He’s better. You did a good job stopping the bleeding. He’s still… Unconscious, but his breathing is more stable now.” San sighed and stuffed the key back in his pocket. “I’d like to ask what happened, but it’s not… Our Captain wants to talk to you first thing in the morning.”
You weren’t surprised at the alias for their leader, it seemed like a lot of people had a knack for weird names.
“I want to talk to Yunho. He’s the only face I can somewhat trust.”
“And you will, but first you’ve got to talk to the captain and then as soon as Yunho wakes up we’ll bring you to him, so eat and rest.”
Neither of you moved toward the food. It smelled delicious though and your stomach was turning in on itself from hunger. Seasoned chicken and potatoes. How they’d acquire that you had no idea. It didn’t matter though. Everything came with a price, before it was actual money, but now you could be forced to pay in numerous ways. Some which you didn’t want to imagine.
“And the food? What do you want for it?”
“Want for it?” His dark brows scrunched together and a little wrinkle appeared on the surface between them.
“What do you want in exchange for the food?”
As if a light switch went off in his head, he waved his hands around. “Nothing? Nothing! It’s free, I mean, it’s leftovers from dinner… We’re not like that. The thing out front was just a precaution. I promise.”
His gaze shifted from you to Nari and his expression softened into that of pity. You both kept quiet as his somber eyes trailed over her lean body and you were a toothpick away from pushing her behind you.
“You’re too thin for a kid… Please, eat… And when you’re done, I’ll– I’ll, uh, bring you something sweet, okay?”
“I like chocolate,” Nari whispered.
“Well, I hope you like pudding because we have lots of it.” As San closed the last big door separating you from the rest of the camp with the reminder to eat, you wasted no time chastising Nari for her lack of critical thinking.
“You can’t go around and trust people like that. This,” you gestured toward the area outside the cell, “isn’t permanent. We don’t know what they want or what they do to newcomers like us. Not to mention they think we hurt Yunho.”
“But we can’t always expect the worst to happen. They could help, Yunho said they would help.”
“Yunho isn’t here! It’s just you and me locked up. Out there we could at least roam free, but now, we don’t even know if we’ll ever see daylight again.”
Fatigue tugged at your eyelids and all the muscles in your body burned from overexhaustion. You plopped down on the bottom bunk, arms propped on your knees and head in your hands, as you tried assessing the situation. However you looked at it, you were at a disadvantage. Your only hope would be Yunho waking up and even then you weren’t entirely free from harm. The tall man could still lie and put the blame for his wound on you.
The bubble of darkness burst as keys clashed together and the cell door was harshly opened. You didn’t remember falling asleep or laying down in bed, or the feel of your head hitting the plush pillow. It just happened. Rolling off the bed, you took on a defensive stance with your hands coming up to your face. You were ready to pounce at anyone daring to come inside.
“I thought I told you guys to eat?”
Blinking your weary eyes awake, you took in the disappointed look of San. This guy apparently had a thing for promises because he was standing there with a chocolate flavored pudding in hand. The two trays on the side were once filled with warm food and had turned cold from being out in the open for long. Your stomach growled in retaliation and you tried pushing the thought of regret to the back of your mind.
Regret for not eating. Regret for yelling at Nari. Regret for helping Yunho.
“And I told you I wanted to speak with Yunho.”
Additional shuffling footsteps echoed in the empty block and the familiar head of black locks peeking from around the side of your cell grabbed your attention.
“Calm down now.”
“Yunho!” Nari wasted no time climbing down the ladder. Her imaginary tail wagged violently as if an excited dog reuniting with her friend from the park. Thinking about it, you weren’t that far off with the visual imagination. They got into a small conversation about his shoulder that quickly shifted to questions about Heart. You breathed out and slumped down on the chair behind you. Yunho was alright. He was breathing and talking and walking just fine. The chances of your and Nari’s survival skyrocketed by fifty percent. He gently patted the top of her head and a dimple you hadn’t paid attention to earlier formed on his cheek. The ripped pieces of fabric from last night were replaced by a white loose-fitting t-shirt and — instead of wearing his black jeans — a pair of gray sweatpants covered his long legs.
“You’re okay.”
Yunho hummed. “Of course. It takes more than a measly bullet to get rid of me.”
'You were closer to death than life,' was what you wanted to say, but held back. It wasn’t your place to remind him of his state. Besides, he wasn't anyone of importance. Yunho was your ticket to safety until you decided to move along somewhere else.
“Not to interrupt your lovely reunion, but Captain wants to see you soooo,” San interrupted. “Let’s go.”
He proceeded to sheepishly smile as you raised a brow at the loaded rifle in his hands. “I’m sorry, but it’s just a precaution.”
A precaution for what? They already took all of your things. How big of a threat could you pose with your bare hands and a kid against a mountain-shaped guy and his skyscraper of a friend? There was nothing you could do to put a scratch on either of them and you were certain you’d get an arm, if not both, broken in return.
“Can we see Heart after this?”
San’s brows flew up at the question and he turned toward Yunho who was still sporting a bright smile. “They know about Heart?”
The taller of the two men only shrugged, but the gleeful expression gave him away. You didn’t have enough energy to reprimand Nari for her nonchalant behavior. The girl was doing whatever she wanted and you didn’t deem the situation dangerous enough to land either of you in trouble, unless the dog was rabid and attacked at first sight.
“Let’s see what their leader wants first, okay?” You put a hand on her shoulder and guided her out of the cage.
Nothing prepared you for the walk from one empty cell block to another full of people gauging you like circus freaks. It wasn’t that weird considering you and Nari looked to be taking daily baths in the sewers and voluntarily gave each other body altercating wounds, but it annoyed you nonetheless. Fear pooled in their eyes, young as old, and you wondered how out of touch with reality they really were. July turned into August three times since the outbreak started. What kind of rules was Sector One built upon if their people couldn’t hold their own?
It made your blood boil. You wanted to give them a reason to be scared. Bare your teeth at them and ask what they had been doing while you were fighting for your life day by day.
“This is where I stop. Yunho will be with you, so just follow him,” San said from behind you. “Captain’s already waiting inside, Yun.”
“Roger that soldier… Come on, let’s not keep him waiting.”
The room they labeled the ‘Captain’s headquarters’ was probably where the previous warden spent most of their time while working. It looked nice. Classy. You could argue it was a different world than the rest of the jail. There was actual furniture inside, two leather sofas facing each other with an expensive looking table in the middle. To your left was a little window looking out on the common room; the area where people ogled you like nothing. Behind the leather set up was a mahogany desk where a man much shorter than Yunho, Mingi and San sat. Two pairs of chairs were placed across from him, letting you know he was expecting your and Nari’s presence.
The most outstanding detail of his was the white bandage wrapped around his forehead and going slightly over his right eye. Captain — as they called him — stood up, a smile taking over his features and his eye creasing from cheesing too much. He had quite a peculiar look to himself; short black hair in the front that grew more at the back and covered his nape like a semi-mullet with the sides freshly shaved. His nose was charming and pointed, quite small too and the lone eye reminded you of a cat’s. Mischievous and cunning.
Unlike the rest of the people you met, this guy wasn’t wearing plain clothing. A white button-up shirt clung to his thin frame and a pair of black slacks actuated his well-formed legs. It wasn’t something people wore in the apocalyptic setting as they opted for clothes allowing them more movement. To top it off, a green military jacket reaching above his ankles hid the fancy outfit underneath.
“Take a seat, please.”
While you and Nari did as told, Yunho cleared his throat from behind and the leader’s eyes (or well, eye) lit up with a particular glow.
“It’s nice to see you back on your feet, Yunho, but try not to die when you go out on a mission next time, hm?”
Said man mockingly saluted and leaned against the wall beside the door.
“Want anything to drink? Water, tea, juice?”
Your stone cold expression conveyed your answer and the silence from Nari wasn’t hard to decipher either.
“The offer still stands if you change your mind… Anyways, welcome to Sector One. I’m Hongjoong or as the people call me, Captain.”
You didn’t put up a fight to keep your names a secret. Mingi, San and Yunho already knew of them and it wouldn’t take long until one of the three whispered it in their leader’s ears.
“I already know of you. I talked to San, Mingi and Wooyoung about it and the guys told me fairly the same things, but I’m still curious about what you have to say.”
“Does it make a difference?” You asked and parted your legs, leaning comfortably against the backrest and your arms coming up to cover your chest. “You’re obviously going to believe your little soldiers before even taking into account what I have to say.”
Hongjoong smiled even wider, not taking his lone eye off you and it was slowly starting to bug you out. Especially when he didn’t blink and just continued holding your gaze.
“That’s valid, but I’d rather hear your side before I decide on anything. Think of Yunho as an alibi, plus you look quite young to be fending for your life. For both of your lives, so I’m feeling a bit sentimental.”
The insult of him shoving his dick up his own ass didn’t get to be flung out in the open as Nari took the lead of the conversation. She spilled everything from your first encounter with Yunho to your near-death experience as a person appeared out of thin air and unloaded rapid shots.
“And Yunho said you had a dog named Heart and promised me I’d get to meet him!”
Hongjoong, who was resting his arms on the desk with his fingers intertwined and lips touching the skin, sighed and gently sank in his chair. His arms fell on each armrest and his head lolled to the side as if in deep thought.
“We do have a dog named Heart and that does sound like something Yunho would say… Tell me more.”
Always eager to humiliate you, Nari jumped straight into action. “He called Auntie Angel… When he went in and out of consciousness.”
Your body heated at the memory and Yunho’s eyes widened. He had no recollection of that happening. A pink hue which rapidly changed to a darker red settled over his ears and he hastily avoided the curious eye of Hongjoong, much like you. The short man couldn’t hold himself from laughing and you were a molecule away from threatening him.
“Who is Angel?” Nari turned in her seat and stared at Yunho with a curious gaze. She was dead set on figuring out this mysterious person.
Hongjoong recovered, but the yellow glow of happiness didn’t dim from his face. “Oh, little one. There’s no one named Angel at camp.” He glanced over at you who glared daggers at the pristine white wall. “I’m almost a hundred percent convinced Yunho thought your auntie was an angel coming to save him and I can’t say I blame him for mixing them up.”
“Will you shut up?” You snarled.
“No. I don’t think I will.” He smirked while standing up and averting his attention to Yunho, who wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow him whole. “Does that sound familiar to you?”
“Uh… Ye– Yeah.” Yunho scratched the lobe of his ear, growing uncomfortable as they burned more.
“Good… Now, I’ll consider keeping quiet if you tell me what it is you want. Why did you come here?”
“Yunho offered us a place to rest until we headed back out on the road.”
“So you wanna stay, is that it?”
Hongjoong didn’t like when people circled around things, you mentally noted. He wanted it served straight to the point and you understood; he was a leader with people to look out for, but it didn’t make it less embarrassing to ask for help. For the sake of Nari, you swallowed your pride, albeit with difficulty, and nodded.
“Then enlighten me. How many infected have you killed?”
The dumbest thing to come out of this apocalypse — after the biters — would be these questions. You didn’t survive this long by hiding and outrunning the dead, it was a common fact and as far as you knew, Hongjoong couldn’t have talked his way out of an encounter with biters. As for other humans, you didn’t doubt his sharp tongue and talent for outsmarting them in getting what he wanted. It was no wonder Sector One was functioning, the whole organization was under his care.
“Could you answer how many breaths you’ve taken since birth? Exactly. It’s too many to count, but it’s well over a hundred.”
A tense silence spread through the room. You couldn’t decipher the look on his face. He would be an infuriating opponent in a game of poker.
“How many people have you killed?”
“Five…” You exhaled a big gust of air and kept your eyes trained on your shoes.
The memories of each person at the end of your knife or gun weren’t pleasant. They were locked in a chest in the back of your head with no intention to be let out. It took you far too long to get used to their faces appearing in your sleep. Waking up from a rapidly beating heart and heaving chest became a part of your routine until it suddenly stopped. It didn’t mean you weren’t thinking of them whenever you were stuck in a silence too loud for your own inner voice.
“Why?”
Curse Hongjoong’s curious mind and soft spoken tone. You really didn’t want to talk about it, but you also didn’t want to risk being thrown out of the prison — every convicted person was probably turning in their graves — as it was currently the safest place for Nari.
“The first one… It was a mercy kill and the only life I took without the intent of surviving,” you began and avoided Nari’s eyes. No one knew of this. Only you, the victim and whoever was watching above.
“It was still early on in the apocalypse and Nari hadn’t even turned double digits so I rarely ever brought her with me. This was one of the times she stayed in our old base while I went out looking for food. Back then I was scared of searching through stores and my biter kill count hadn’t even gone over five, so I stuck to clearing houses and small corner shops…
“The house was relatively empty and it didn’t take me longer than three minutes to continue upstairs. It was a boy, maybe around Nari’s age now. I found him hiding in his parents’ bedroom, blanket up to his chin and face entirely wet and red from crying. He was bit and yeah… There wasn’t much I could do.”
Casting upwards, you locked gazes with Hongjoong. The stone-hard expression was still there, but a twinkle of sympathy flickered in his brown eyes.
“The most recent one was when Yunho found us,” you continued. “A group of men wanted to raid the same store as us and well… they weren’t the kindest of guys. It was either kill or be killed. Yunho can vouch for that.”
It was quiet after that. You could faintly hear the people going on about their day in the cell blocks and the small details of life around you. Yunho’s shifting in place. Nari picking on the skin around her thumb. The clock ticking above the doorway.
“You mentioned five people, but we’ve only heard about two.”
You should’ve known better than to think Hongjoong wouldn’t ask about the remaining three. It wasn’t something you were proud of, but it needed to happen or everything you’ve based your new life around would go to waste.
Sensing Nari move in her seat, you decided to keep the explanation brief. “Some men… attacked Nari.”
“That’s all?” Hongjoong asked, curious as to why they weren’t getting a lengthy story.
“That’s all you need to know. They put her in danger and I put them six feet under… I protected my own. Wouldn’t you do the same?”
“I have. We all have.”
The reply was instant. So he did kill someone. Not that he’d ever know, but you were intrigued. How? When? Why? In this time and day it’d be more concerning if he hadn’t killed someone.
“I’m willing to let you stay on one condition.”
He brought you out of your bubble. You squinted and folded your arms. “Which is?”
Hongjoong rounded the desk and leaned back on it. Legs crossed and hands coming back to rest on the edge of the surface. “You may stay in Sector One… but because of Yunho’s injury, one of you will have to look for resources in his place.”
To be frank, the offer wasn’t bad. You were already in charge of scavenging and finding safety over your heads. It was a no-brainer Nari would stay inside the four walls of Sector One and you’d take Yunho’s responsibility while he recovered. It would only be for a few days, you reasoned with yourself, and then you’d take Nari by the hand and leave to a new destination.
“Hongjoong! I’m perfectly fine going on my own–” Yunho was interrupted and stopped advancing forward, his hands hovering in the air as your voice overpowered his.
“I’ll do it, but I have a requirement of my own.”
“Go ahead.”
“I’ll do the scavenging, clearing areas and helping around the prison if Nari stays out of it all.”
“Auntie!”
“Butt out.” You threw her a look and she sank back in her seat, an angry pout taking over her lips. “Do we have a deal?”
Hongjoong smiled and held out his hand that you shook with strength.
“Deal… Yunho, fill her in on how things work around here, would ya?”
“...Yes, Captain.”
The agreement to stay a week or two in exchange for risking your life prolonged to a month. But with a little persuasion from Wooyoung — the guy who nearly shot your toes off — and Yunho, you came to the realization that staying in Sector One until further notice was a better option for Nari than living on the streets.
Week three of temporarily living in the prison was inaugurated by another run for supplies and you were meeting Hogjoong’s demands by going alone. San offered to come with — something he had been every single time — but you told him you could hold your own and that the prison needed him more than you would. He didn’t fight your decision and also refrained from hiding the concern on his face. San was like that, you realized. If he wasn’t planted on the post or following Hongjoong’s orders, then he’d be doing rounds asking everyone if there was anything they needed.
Another sweet guy who wasn’t all content with you venturing outside the prison walls on your own was Yunho. It was his fault you were doing so in the first place, of course he wouldn’t be happy with you doing runs in his stead. He didn’t want to entertain the possibility of you getting hurt or — even worse — bit. Yunho would never forgive himself. You didn’t have time to reassure either of them you’d be fine. They were both old enough to know such promises wouldn’t hold longer than a goldfish out of its tank. You simply collected requests of the people inside and tried to cross out as many things on the list as possible. To keep everything under control, you made up the rule that everyone could wish for one thing each and it had to be bearable otherwise it would be impossible to shorten the list.
Today was a successful day. A toothpick wouldn't fit in your bag from how packed it was. Batteries, hard soap, pads, cigarettes, crayons, dog treats, books, pacifiers, chocolate bars, you had it all and headed home. A blue collar with a silver heart attached to it was stuffed in the back pocket of your jeans. It was dirty, the color barely distinguishable from the dust and stains, and the heart locket started taking on a green hue. It was perfect for Heart and would be a shame to leave behind. You were usually strict with your rules and rarely brought back things people didn’t ask for or were deemed unnecessary. The only exception was if it were something for Nari (you had to get better with that, but honestly speaking, you couldn’t care less).
Back at the prison — one hour earlier than scheduled — you circled cell block two and handed out the goods to the respective person. Soon enough you were left with an empty bag and an unsolicited bag of chips in your hands, the extra salty type that made your mouth shrink and turn back in on itself. There was only one person you knew who was dying to eat these.
“Oh, you’re back already?” Mingi greeted you with a smile as you entered block one.
The giant got up from his seat in one of the round tables and you met him in the middle. “Yeah. I underestimate how fast I actually am on my own.”
“Better that than to have us running around like headless hens thinking something’s happened… Whatchu got there?”
“Snacks… For Nari. She really loves chips.”
“Cool. Ay, don’t let Yunho see you with that, it’s his favorite flavor,” Mingi chuckled and his boxy smile appeared, and as did his dimples.
“What a coincidence,” you murmured and cleared your throat. “Where is he anyways? Shouldn’t he be on… like, some duty?”
“Nah or well… yeah, but nah?”
You tilted your head quizzically and your eyebrows scrunched together like two furry caterpillars. Mingi waved you away as if you were the one spewing nonsense. Was he or was he not on duty?
“You’ll get what I mean when you see him. He’s in his cell doing nothing… something. No-so-thing?”
Twenty-one days. You had known Mingi for twenty-one days and each time you conversed, he didn’t fail to leave you more perplexed than the last time. His white hair should have been enough of a warning he was somewhat weird or at the very least confusing, but the equal amount of kind.
As you were told, Yunho was in his cell. You moved the white sheet that was covering his cell and admired his peaceful form laying in bed. Arms bent at the elbows and fingers intertwined beneath the back of his head while his ankles crossed over each other. The bed wasn’t quite fit for his tall figure making his feet stick out over the edge. You understood what Mingi meant now. Yunho was put on duty… a duty to rest until healed. Although that didn’t stop him from keeping the positive spirits up in the place. The first few days spent around him and his happy-go-lucky demeanor were enough for you to believe he was putting up a facade. You refused to believe the constant happiness he spread around was genuine. Witnessing even a quarter of the apocalypse was enough to tarnish any positive emotion inside a person and Yunho surely couldn’t be immune to that. But the more you lingered around him, the more you realized he was being himself. His curled up lips and squinted eyes, and a dimple popping out even when sleeping proved to be his true self.
“Are you just going to stare at me or?”
The fabric slipped from your fingers and shielded you from him and his chuckle. Of course he was awake. Everyone who was a part of Hongjoong’s patrol and resource squads was basically walking on eggshells. Slipping in his room, you were greeted with an overly joyous Yunho, a shit eating grin on his face and cheeks puffy and round from the smiling. His brown eyes carried a twinkle of mischief that had you frowning. Not bothering to entertain his poor taste in harmless jokes, you tossed the snacks over to him and plopped on the vacant seat opposite of his bed. A pair of comics were stacked in non-chronical order on the desk — some of which you recognized as Spiderman comics — along with scattered polaroids of him and people from camp, a bag of dog treats and his gun.
“What’s this?” He asked and immediately sat up. The bag was intensely inspected as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. The gasp that left his mouth upon realization told you he knew exactly what it was you tossed him.
You weren’t prepared for his gaze to find yours. A look of gratitude painted his face and a wave of warmth welled over your body and sent your heart into palpitations. The attention was suddenly too much to bear and you averted your focus on the boring cement walls that were much easier to look at. You grabbed the comic at the top of the stack and aimlessly flipped through it, the colorful pages doing little to calm your heated thoughts.
“They are Nari’s favorite,” you began and stopped on a random page. “I found two and she told me to give you the other one.”
“They are my favorite too,” he whispered as if admitting a sin in a confessional.
There was no reason for you to lie, but the emotion in his eyes sent you into panic and it was like he could see right through you. It was embarrassing to admit, but you didn’t want him to think… You didn’t want him to know what you thought about him. Heck, you were still trying to accept the fact Yunho was slowly infiltrating your mind let alone giving him his favorite things like a poor attempt at a courting offer which it wasn’t!
For such a long time, you were only thinking about yourself and Nari. You never thought to fit a third person– scratch that. You never thought there’d be a third person to fit in your already busy mind. Getting attached to people was dangerous, it made you vulnerable and an easy target. The quickest route to your heart would be through Nari and you didn’t need to involve romance in that mess. Love was the greatest weakness of humans after all. Despite that, you couldn’t help but disguise your worry through acts and harsh words. Giving him painkillers in the dead of night, purposely moving peas from his plate to yours as you heard him complain about them once (without anyone seeing you, of course), or keeping an eye out for those comic books he’s into. Instead of asking how his recovery was going, you’d say, “You can’t be in that much pain if you’re laughing.”
Yunho opened the bag and wasted no time stuffing his cheeks with potato chips. The need to chastise him for eating too fast rolled backwards on your tongue. Feeling like it’d be crossing the line of friendship and acquaintances, you hastily stood up and feigned stretching your back. Yunho peered up at you with his round eyes, pouty lips and puffed-up cheeks, and you nearly stumbled over your own feet. It was… so different having to look up at him and having him stare at you from below. He looked so pliant and what would be your drunken mistake after too many drinks on a night out with your friends.
“I’m out,” you announced before you could do something you’d regret and ran to the safety of your cell.
One thing you’d rather do than admit that Yunho made the apocalypse bearable was to take a screwdriver through your eye. Since meeting him, the world splattered in black and white for three-and-something-years was slowly getting back its colors. Perhaps it was his abnormal humor keeping you up way past the curfew set by Hongjoong or his weird faces having you burst out in laughter at the most inappropriate moments. It could also be his natural leadership, taking control over situations and coming up with plans when you were too tired to function. It made you feel taken care of, like you could slow down and breathe once in a while without worrying about what the next move should be.
It was nice. It was good. It also meant your plan of shielding your heart from intruders failed miserably as Yunho slowly, but progressively, wiggled his way through the five hundred locks surrounding your beating organ. The thought hit you on a random night as the leaves changed into an array of more depressing colors and daylight didn’t last longer than until the afternoon for the second time since passing the gates of Sector One. You were used to a vicious cycle of waking up, operating on survival mode and going back to bed with no anticipation for tomorrow. Yunho, with his small talk and respectfully prying questions, changed that and you found him in your thoughts before sleep, during dinner, when washing up and whenever your mind wasn’t occupied with tactics of survival. You wouldn’t say you yearned for his presence, but you looked forward to seeing him, to hear him talk about the newest car parts he found on his latest run or to play another round of twenty questions (which you answered as nonchalantly as possible and asked the most boring questions known to mankind).
For a little less than two years, you worked on gradually welcoming more people into your life. You didn’t feel the need to hide yourself behind brick walls for protection anymore. You’d always be wary of newcomers — that was understandable — but you were done thinking Hongjoong and his crew had ulterior motives resulting in your demise. You could actually fall asleep around them without a knife tucked beneath your pillow and stopped offering to keep watch during supply runs — the fear of being killed in your sleep was built on the lack of trust — as the moon and sun exchanged places. There was still a long way to go until you could call Sector One a home, but at least it was safe and it was mainly thanks to Yunho.
As you loaded the last bags in the backseat of Yunho’s Jeep, he refilled washer fluid in the designated reservoir while shielded by the bonnet.
“Auntie, wait! Don’t leave yet!”
Nari came running down the path, doing nothing to keep her volume down with Heart hot on her heels and his joyful barks mixing in the autumn breeze. Closing the doors, you leaned against them and patiently did as requested. She caught up to you and rested her hands on her knees, air heaved in and out of her chest as she tried catching her breath. She raised a hand, asking for a moment to not sound like she climbed multiple stairs.
“Okay,” she started and straightened. “I have something for you guys. Yunho! Come over here and close your eyes! You too, Auntie.”
“Coming,” Yunho muttered and screwed the cap back on and closed the front surface of the Jeep. He did the thing you couldn’t call jogging or walking which did nothing to pick up his pace and came to stand beside you while simultaneously wiping grime off his fingers. He shot you a glance as if to ask what was happening, but you shrugged, knowing as much as he did.
“Close your eyes and palms up!” She placed something tiny and light in your hands. “And open!”
A smile graced your face. In the palm of your hand was a bracelet. It wasn’t flashy or made out of silver or gold, on the contrary, it was created using two things; a piece of colored garn and the tab of a soda can. Your string was a vibrant red while Yunho got a pastel green. The ends of the garn were tied to each side of the tab thus creating a loop that would go around your wrist. It was simple and probably didn’t take longer than five minutes to create, but it was a gift nonetheless.
“It’s beautiful, flower.” You immediately put it on and showed her.
Nari clapped her hands enthusiastically and squealed. “It looks so good and now you have a piece of me with you wherever you go!”
“That was sweet of you, Nari,” Yunho said, admiring the poor trinket on his wrist. “I’ve always wanted a good luck charm and now I got it so, thanks a lot, kiddo.”
The grin she sported grew bigger at the praise and Yunho couldn’t refrain from ruffling her hair. His attention was suddenly on you.
“You ready?”
“As ready as one can be.”
“Please be careful.” Nari engulfed you in a hug, and you immediately reciprocated.
“When am I not?”
“Don’t worry about her, Nari. She’ll be under my protection.” Yunho’s chest puffed up and he placed a hand over his heart. His lips did that upside down triangle shape making his cheeks look extra squishy while his eyes tingled in the sunlight.
“She better! It’s my family we’re talking about.”
“Okay, Rambo, calm down before you blow a vessel… And who is taking care of who? Last time I checked, I was the one protecting the both of us,” you trailed off and rolled your eyes.
“Are you two leaving soon or are you going to chit-chat the day away?!” The high-pitched voice of the one and only, Jung Wooyoung, came from the tower closest to the gate.
“That would be our cue to get rolling. We’ll see you in a few days, kiddo.” Yunho ruffled her hair again, just because, and hoped in the driver’s seat.
Searching for food and other necessities had become a part of your life long before you joined Sector One, the only difference was leaving Nari behind while you stepped out into the danger zone, not knowing if you’d get to see each other again. You wanted to say it was easier leaving with time, that every departure wasn’t as heavyhearted as the previous, but you’d be lying to yourself.
“Listen to Seonghwa and Yeosang while I’m away. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do and if anything happens to the place, and I mean anything, you take your things and you run. I’ll find you wherever you go, okay?”
Nari didn’t reply. Instead, she wrapped her arms around you and hid her face in the crook of your neck. Thinking back to it, three years ago she could barely reach up to your neck, let alone tuck her head into it.
“I’ll miss you.”
You sighed and pressed a chaste kiss to the side of her head. “I’ll miss you more. I’m going to try and see if I can bring you more of those pictures that fit your camera.”
Yunho gifted her a Polaroid camera for her eleventh birthday. It was a present that started her obsession with photography, the downside being the films were hard to find and were almost rarer than medical kits and unexpired condoms. This year he promised her driving lessons, however, they would have to wait until he was back from the mission.
“Thank you.”
Two quick beeps was your signal to go.
“Seonghwa and Yeosang will help you with anything you need. We’ll be back in a few days, behave till then.”
“I always do,” she retorted, brows coming together and nose scrunching cutely.
You smiled slyly. “I know… Oh, and Nari?” She hummed and looked up at you through her lashes. “Tell that Eunwoo kid I have eyes everywhere even when I’m out of camp.”
Blush attacked her cheeks and she pushed you away with a noise of embarrassment. The words ‘we’re just friends’ tumbled out of her mouth faster than lightning.
The engine was warm and rumbling when you got inside. A water bottle rested in the cupholder closest to you along with a granola bar. Having spent a lot of time with Yunho, you grew accustomed to his silent checkups. It was his way of giving you comfort without putting it into words or asking aggravating questions that would have you exploding in his face.
“Ready?”
Singing, you clicked the seatbelt in place and nodded. “Let’s get this over with.”
The idea of raiding a mall in central Seoul was suggested by one of the civilians in charge of the prison’s crops. With the years, the member count in Sector One gradually grew. You went from thirty people to fifty in a month and it nearly doubled until the next summer. The number was now close to one hundred and ten. Paracetamol and other medical supplies were starting to run short and it wasn’t such a problem until the stores nearby had all been cleared, one after another the shelves were emptied. It was then that the first meeting took place, followed by multiple others to make up the perfect plan on how, who and when.
What was supposed to be a mission of twenty people was cut down to two. Initially, you told Hongjoong to count you out. You weren’t comfortable with doing runs bigger than a local grocery store or gas station, besides, Hongjoong was bound to give you a pass. It was the least he could do, especially as you searched for resources almost weekly, even going out of your way to take up others' scheduled runs. When the time came to decide who the two (un)lucky participants would be, Yunho took the initiative and your choice to sit on the sidelines was forgotten as you raised your hand up and volunteered. It benefited everyone because, honestly speaking, no one really wanted to put their own life on the line.
The first step of the plan was to find a secure and easy access to the car if in need of a quick getaway. The amount of vehicles aimlessly left by the entrance of the mall clogged up the path. It was best to park the Jeep further away and Yunho contemplated whether to leave it on the road connecting the parking lot to the highway and as you weighed your options, it turned out that would be for the best. The handbrake was pulled up and in a previous life, he’d return to his car already towed away with a ticket waiting for him in his mailbox.
“You nervous?” Yunho asked as he strapped the high-quality vest provided by the prison to his body.
You huffed in reply and did the same. It wasn’t affordable to feel anything beside confidence and even too much of that could get you killed. The best emotion to describe you would be exhaustion. Tired of doing your utmost to survive day by day.
The thick texture of the vest was uncomfortable and quite tight all over, however, you’d rather wear it than take the chances of being bit. “I don’t even know what I’m feeling anymore. I just… want to get the things we came for and go back.”
Yunho checked his gun, although everything was thoroughly looked at back in the base. A small walkie-talkie was attached to his right peck while yours was hanging on the waistband of your pants. It was a precaution if you were to lose each other in the mall or needed to contact Hongjoong back at the prison. Your hair was tied back with the purpose of not falling in your face during hectic situations, but also so it wouldn’t be easy to grab. You had heard too many stories of women dying because perpetrators used their hair against them, latching onto it when they least expected it, not to mention many of the high school fights you witnessed where girls weaved their fingers into each other’s roots, pulling until chunks of hair fell out.
“To be honest, I think I’d get more bored of guarding the post all day. I can’t fathom how Wooyoung does it. Like don’t the trees eventually bleed into each other?”
“Probably. Then again, it’s Wooyoung we’re talking about. He has a freakishly good eye when it comes to intruders so I wouldn’t be too worried, besides, Mingi and San are quick to follow up if he does miss anything. Although it’s highly unlikely.”
Yunho unrolled a map portraying the inside of the mall on the hood of the Wrangler as you brought two empty backpacks from the trunk.
“Remember the first step?”
“Technically, we’re already on step two.”
You rolled your eyes and muttered, “Smartass.”
The remark had his dimple popping out as a cheeky smile stretched across his face.
“So we enter through here.” He pointed at a makeup store. “It’s the only shop we can enter through the backdoor without gathering much attention and the pharmacy is on the same floor. We can look through the salon first and see if there’s useful stuff in there.”
“Like what? I doubt anyone wants cosmetics in a time like these.”
“No, but I’m pretty sure there’s like sunscreen, stuff for the hair and body, shaving things. You know, necessities.” Yunho folded the map back together and slipped it into the back pocket of his pants. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Nothing, I just…” You averted your gaze, but the amused smile was still here. “Didn’t know you were into cosmetics.”
The pink hue of roses didn’t attack his ears, but his contagious chuckle reached yours and a smug smirk crossed his face. “Yeah? I thought it was a given, like, I’m a sucker for blush if you haven't noticed.”
“Oh, shut up.” You shoved him and he flew sideways as if weighing nothing. Trust Yunho into over exaggerating and making the situation look worse than it was. You didn’t wait for him to catch up — not that it would take him long — and immediately headed for the backdoor entrance.
“This should be easy.” Yunho tied a black bandana around his mouth and nose to keep dust and bacteria from entering his system while you pulled up the neck tube gifted by Mingi a while back.
The two of you shared a look and as Yunho nodded, gun in hand and flashlight in the other, you worked the door open and let the darkness of the mall swallow you whole. The storage room was like any other. Full of boxes and crates, and even a few shopping carts containing various make-up products. The layers of thick clothes did little to hold your warmth against the freezing temperature of the storage. Words were exchanged through your eyes, neither taking the risk of alerting potential resting biters or raiders, and Yunho’s light flickered to life.
You sneaked around the space and took time clearing the area of threats. Confirm there wasn’t an unwanted presence with an urge to pierce your skin and feed on your insides, you could breathe a tad bit heavier and relax your rigid posture. Sweat coated your body and your pulse was loud in your ears. However many looting rounds you’d do, you’d never adjust to the adrenaline and fear that came with as a plus two.
A faint whistle traveled through the air and your head whizzed up to see Yunho standing by a door, presumably leading to the actual store. He called you over with a nudge of his head and you tightened the grip around your gun and knife. He put off his torch and raised a finger to his covered lips, and you nodded. Taking a step back and planting your feet wider apart to get a sturdier stance, you raised your gun and used your other arm to support it underneath. It wouldn’t be ideal to fire off bullets inside, but if it came down to it, you’d be left with no choice.
Yunho hugged the handle and held up three fingers — his hand big enough to hold the gun with just his thumb and pinky — and began counting down. With his fingers gone, he gently opened the door and you stuck your head out, coming face first with the register. A big table shielded your view of the complete store and you immediately dropped to a crouch and waddled out, Yunho following close behind. It was much brighter out there than in the storage room courtesy of the light coming from the corridor of the mall, most likely from the windows on the ceiling. As you moved to round the corner of the cashier register, Yunho roughly grabbed your shoulder and nearly sent you stumbling backwards. Throwing him a questioning glance, he pointed to his ear.
Moans and grunts in various tones vibrated through the building. Some were faint, barely there, and others were alarmingly loud. The weight of Yunho’s hand was still there and a soft squeeze of said man was enough to bring you back. He gave you all of three seconds to get your head out of your ass and follow his lead.
Yunho weaved between the aisles — still crouched down — and as you peeked around him, you quickly realized the make-up store was untouched. All the products were in their designated place and it was abnormally tidy inside. No blood coating the white tiled floor or decomposing corpses laying around. The only thing you could think of was that the workers quickly rolled down the sliding grilles before any of the infected could enter and made their escape through the back. The longer you stared at the shutters, the clearer it became how tilted it was. One side wasn’t completely flat with the ground, you presumed it had something to do with one of the cogs being stuck. If it came down to it, the barrier would only hold so long against a horde of biters.
“How are we getting through that?” You whispered and wiped your clammy palms off your pants.
Yunho plopped down on his rear and moved into a comfortable position; his legs were propped up, creating a triangle passageway, and his elbows came to rest on his knees. You were in a similar stance, but with one of your legs flat against the ground and hands on your stomach. The sides of your thighs touched, but neither were distraught by the display of (accidental) skinship. Stealing a glance, you nearly jumped out of your skin as he hastily turned toward you.
“Okay, I got an idea…”
You swallowed thickly and nodded.
“So… I think I could raise the bar high enough for us to squeeze out. You’d go first and keep it up until I pass. The thing is, we need to have an emergency exit if everything goes to shit and I don’t wanna take the risk of us having to pry it open again and getting caught.”
“Yeah, no, that sounds like a nightmare waiting to happen honestly… I’m thinking we can find something sturdy that will hold it for us and we can just slide through if we’re being chased.”
“Let’s hurry.”
You got up and quickly scanned the store for something useful, but all you could see were make-up products, perfume, brushes and other miniature things that weren't good for your issue. You needed something easy to move that wouldn’t make too much noise and cave in under pressure. Looking around, you lingered on the door you came from and everything lit up as if a lightbulb appeared over your head. A whistling tune cut through the store and Yunho’s head popped up from behind a rack, one of his brows raised and you waved him over.
“A shopping cart,” you murmured, a high tilt to your voice. “There are plenty in the storage room, they are easy to handle and won’t falter.”
The smile he showed you could easily be mistaken for his natural cheery persona and you convinced yourself it was just that. Yunho smiled at everyone, especially with those glistening eyes of his as if a brush coated in glitter went over them. You were the first to spring into action and it had nothing to do with the clump of nerves gathering in your abdomen from his soft gaze. It wasn’t the time nor place for confusing feelings, you thought as you grabbed the cart and pushed it out. Coming the closest you’d been to the grilles, you hid behind the trolley and looked through the small holes to assess the situation. Chaos was the first term to appear in your mind.
Broken glass shards littered the previously white tiled floor. It was currently covered in muddy water leaking from the roof, dried blood and weeds sprouting from between the cracks. Rotten meat and rusty metal lingered in the air and it was disgusting, you had never smelled anything like that before. These biters had been there for quite some time, judging by the lack of skin on their decaying bodies and bony figures. They hadn’t feasted in a while and that scared you. Shaking your head clear of such thoughts, you looked in the direction of the apothecary and deflated. A big island of trees, plants and bushes was the first thing you saw. The decorations stood tall and wild, spilling over the fence so you couldn’t see the pharmacy that was supposedly on the other side. The run from point A to B suddenly got overcomplicated.
How would you know if the apothecary was open? And if it was, how many infected were there inside? What if everything was already taken? Then the whole mission was a fail. A waste of time, a waste of gas, a waste of–
“Everything okay?”
You could feel the heat emanating from his body and the aroma of his detergent and pine needle-like scent as he got near. In fact, you could feel him too, where his chest pressed up against your back and his left hand weaved into the grid of the cart, wrist centimeters from touching the top of your head. His close presence was dizzying and attacked your senses at the worst possible time, but at least it overpowered the stench of death. Compelling yourself to get over his spell, you explained the situation and Yunho, ever the optimistic, pointed out the positives.
“At least it isn’t teeming with biters as we thought. Look.” He gestured to the biters. “They are just standing there like statues so we can easily sneak past, plus, we have a few hours until the sun sets, meaning?”
“They are slow as fuck.”
“Bingo. We should be fine as long as we don’t set off a chain reaction and wake the whole building. Otherwise, we’re pretty fucked.”
“It’s risky,” you stated the obvious.
“Everything is nowadays, but don’t worry your pretty little head about that because I’ve got a plan.”
He thought your head was pretty–
“We can use that forest thingy as cover. The bushes and leaves are big enough to cover us completely. I say we use that to check the situation and see where we go from there.”
“I’ve got a better idea.”
“Which is?”
“I can use the bushes to check the situation and then call you over depending on the situation. Both of us shouldn’t throw ourselves out there. It’s dumb, what if it’s locked? It’d be a waste of energy.”
“Okay, I’ll do it.
“No, I just said I’d do it. Yunho, think about it. I’m quicker, harder to notice and there’s more things I can hide behind. You’re freakishly tall, where would you hide?”
He pondered for a moment and agreed in the end, but not before voicing his distaste for the idea. “I don’t like it when you’re right.”
“I don’t really care, just get the shutters would you?”
You positioned yourself behind the cart and watched as he rolled up the security shutters just enough for you to slip the metal hunk on wheels underneath. Still crouched down, you waited to see if the biters were drawn to the light clinking noises, but — much to your pleasure — it didn’t attract any. Before you could cross over to the danger zone, Yunho grabbed your bicep.
“Be careful,” he whispered tenderly, like talking to a distressed dog. His hand remained until you nodded, but even when he drew back, the warmth spread out through your chest to the very tips of your toes and lingered to what felt like an eternity.
It was pleasant. Safe. Yunho’s arms were safe, you concluded and wished to feel more of. Both his touch and the protection he provided.
“You too.”
You didn’t wait, wholeheartedly believing you’d stay back if you looked at his doleful expression for a second longer, and slid out. The biters were oblivious to your presence, but you weren’t about to abuse that privilege until it had run its final course. Like the existence of a ghost, you floated through the mall on your tippy toes, knife trembling in your tight hold and eyes frantically searching for trouble waiting to pounce out of nowhere. Considering you were always reaching for the short end of the stick or possessed more bad than good luck, it was no surprise you were constantly thinking five steps ahead. There was no need for that now though because you made it to the decorations without getting your knife bloodied. The greenery was bigger than what could be seen from the make-up store, a result of constant sunlight, water dripping out of a broken pipe and no one there to keep it tidy. You just hoped you were alone in the idea of hiding there.
The pharmacy was open to the public. You didn’t know whether to deem it a win or a loss. Easier access was always good, but that included everyone and a bigger chance of the place already being looted. Not much more thinking and strategizing had to be done though, and you immediately signaled Yunho over. The inside wasn’t completely trashed either. It wasn’t as neat as the make-up store, but from what you could see, there were still things that could be of use or it was your wishful thinking kicking in.
“This is good… right?” It was so quiet that you nearly missed it.
“It’s less of a hassle getting in, so I’d say so. Our best bet would be that one keeps watch while the other gathers as much shit as possible, unless we want an early date with death.”
“There’s a pet store behind us too, maybe we can pick something for Heart on our way back.”
“We’ll s–”
A growl was quick to shut you up. The sound sent unsettling vibrations down your spine and you snapped your lips together as a biter staggered right past you. Its sudden appearance reminded you to get your asses moving. Neither breathed until its figure was far, far away from you.
“Fuck…” Yunho exhaled. “Okay, you keep watch and I’ll look around, you know, see if there’s stuff on the higher shelves or something.”
He handed you one of the baseball-sized rocks strewn across the dirt on the island — the kind you’d find at the beach — and snagged one for himself too. In a previous life they were used to make things prettier for the eye, but now it was something you bashed rotten heads in with or threw across the room to distract the biters.
Of everything you've done so far, getting into the cursed pharmacy was by far the easiest and least nerve-wracking.
“Go, be quick!” You hissed and crouched behind a table closest to the entrance while Yunho zoomed past you, hastily unzipping his bag and filling it with things. You had half a mind to chastise him for the rattle of bottles and rustling sounds, but withheld. Your voice would reach farther than objects clashing in his backpack.
Your hyper-focus was glued to the front. You were nothing better than a dog waiting to attack, body stiff and on high alert. Adrenaline coursed your veins and it was hard keeping still, head jerking in every direction and your hand frozen around the hilt of your knife it sent tremors up your arm. Teetering on the edge of control, you struggled not to slash at the slightest of movements and sound. Yunho’s request for your empty bag breached your concentration and the breath you inhaled was like waking up in the middle of the night and clenching your thirst with the glass of water you set on the bedside table hours prior. It didn’t take long before the other backpack was filled too and the curse of being stupid not to bring a third fell from his lips.
“You got everything?”
“Not even close. Come over here.”
And like the good guard dog you were, you heeded his command, leaving the post unattended despite the turmoil in your abdomen.
“Put as much stuff as you can in your pockets. I won’t sleep at night if we leave all this behind.”
The amount of money worth of drugs you had in your pants right now was beyond your comprehension, but you knew the bidding between a local druggie and vitamin obsessed grandmother would be hectic. Glancing in Yunho’s direction, you did a double take at the blue tinfoil packages in his hands and grew hot from embarrassment. Your look was all it took for Yunho to defend himself.
“What? I doubt people want to reciprocate at this time.”
He wasn’t wrong, but it didn’t make you feel any better or stop the sensual image of Yunho. His naked body tangled in sheets looming over you and the very same condom you just saw in his hands, now stuck between his lips. Then you shook your head, as if to make the thought disappear before it could delve into an even more lustful scenario. The naked Yunho was gone, but the heat burned your cheeks worse than the sun on a summer day.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
If he noticed your flustered state, he didn’t mention it. With bags on your backs and weapons at the ready, you found yourselves in the bushes again.
“Don’t you think it’s weird?”
“What?”
Yunho scratched the spot behind his ear. “That everything is going… smoothly? Like it’s too easy?”
“What?” Your brows drew together. “Do you want it to be difficult?”
“Obviously not. I’m just… pointing out the obvious. It’s never been this easy.”
He had a way with words because not even a fraction of a second after, he jumped out of the bushes and evoked a high-pitched, squeaky noise that reached every nook and cranny of the mall. He breathed out a soft “fuck”, the tone dripping with disbelief. Beneath him, squished and still peeping the more Yunho raised his foot, was a blue, rubber pig. Its mouth pulled in an open smile and snout scrunched.
Fucking petstore. Fucking pig. Fucking Yunho.
You popped out of hiding, knife pulled out but violently trembling in your hold under the gaze of what felt like a thousand translucent eyes peering at your warm bodies. The one watching your life through a squared screen pressed pause on the remote and then when it was resumed, everything went to shit. The biters lunged for the first piece of meat they’d seen in months while you stood rooted to the ground, legs refusing to cooperate with your nervous system.
“Go, go, go! Fucking move!”
You did, in fact, not fucking move. You watched him drive his blade into the head of a biter, blood dripping everywhere as the rotten body slumped down and you fell with it, ass bruised and brain too scrambled to understand what was happening. You were going to die. You were never going to see Nari again. You going to turn into a–
Yunho was there in seconds to haul you off the ground, his hand grabbing the back of your shirt, shouting at you to run. “Are you deaf?! Go!”
It was the harsh push to your shoulder that finally got you moving. Slow and uncertain steps, but moving nonetheless thanks to Yunho barking orders behind you. One would think you had never stepped foot outside the prison walls, let alone gone on numerous resource runs. Everything between his push and you reaching the make-up store was a blur. The blood covering your knife and hands — along with the trail of corpses left behind you — being the only proof you had been involved in the massacre.
“I told you to get inside!”
You jumped as Yunho’s hand landed on your forearm, tugging you toward the store. Throwing a glance over your shoulder, you counted over a hundred rotting heads. The shutters would only hold a dozen until it broke and they tore you apart.
Yunho watched the gears turn in your head and got a whiff of what you planned to do. “Don’t.”
The foreign depth in his voice did nothing to change your mind and he noticed it too, thus holding onto you until his fingers turned white and the veins of his hands protruded. You snapped out of the haze as another forceful tug bruised your arm. Determined to see your plan till the end, you used the element of surprise to your advantage and bore your teeth into his wrist, just enough for him to loosen his hold on you and give you the chance to step back. You ripped your bag off your shoulders and slung it at Yunho, who caught it with an ‘oomph’, successfully keeping him down on his rear for a few extra seconds. His raspy call of your name clawed at your heart. Something was eating you from the inside, but you ignored the wails of your soul and kicked the cart with all your might, allowing the shutters to fall with a bang. Your stubbornness wasn’t the sole thing to stand between the two of you anymore.
“What the fuck are you doing?!”
You paid little attention to the burning feeling in your chest and the flame dancing across his features. Leaving him there would hurt, but it would be hell to see him get ripped to shreds knowing he had a chance of surviving. Back at the prison, you only had one person to look out for while Yunho was a pillar for many. You couldn’t do that to them. To Hongjoong, Mingi, Wooyoung… Heck, you couldn’t do it to yourself. Angry Yunho was a fleeting image. It would pass, but the Yunho with cheesing eyes and heart-shaped lips pulled in a joyous smile was forever engraved in your memory.
“It’s not going to hold,” you gestured to the stupid shutter. “Get home and make sure the stuff gets to Hongjoong.”
“You’re crazy if you think I’m leaving without you!”
“Tell Nari I love her–”
His fist slammed against the metal cover and for a moment you thought it would crumble beneath his touch. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence. You’re going to tell her yourself because we’re going back together!”
There was so much on your mind. What to say, what message to leave the others; apologies and closure or a last round of advice? What would Nari think? There was no doubt in mind she’d be heartbroken. You were the last piece of family she had left and it would be downright evil of you to make her lose another parental figure.
“I’ll find you. Outside, I’ll find you. I’m not dyi… “ Your throat tightened at the empty promise. You didn’t know if you said that to reassure him or yourself. “Ten minutes. If I’m not outside in ten minutes, you’ll leave. Yunho, promise me you’ll leave.”
If only you knew what you were doing to his poor soul. Asking him of the impossible. He could promise you anything you wanted—anything in this cursed world—and he’d hand it to you on a silver platter. Anything, but that. Leaving you behind was like signing his own death sentence. He’d be nothing, but the shell of a man. An empty, hollow, useless shell with the bitter taste of resentment for both your selfless and selfish sacrifice. Yunho knew agreeing to keep the promise would give you peace of mind, yet if anything happened to you, he’d be haunted by the memories of you until his very last breath.
Across from him, you waited as if time wasn’t about the most sacred thing you could have. A mix of concern and determination wedged in your beautiful features and Yunho knew he had to speak, although he didn’t want to because the words rolling off his dry tongue would be some kind of agreement to your request.
“Yunho, please.”
The burning fire in his eyes dimmed as a wave of tears washed over them. They looked magical, even when obscured by grief and longing for the one still alive. His bottom lip formed into a pout to keep from trembling just as his hands balled into fists for that same reason. The sand continued seeping out of the imaginary hourglass, no matter how much Yunho tried scooping it back inside, the universal clock wouldn’t stop ticking.
With great effort — his lips parted and the shaky breath released aimed straight at your heart as did the tears brimming his red eyes which were a reflection of your own — he nodded. “I promise… but don’t make me fulfill it.”
In another life, the vow would be exchanged in a happier setting, surrounded by friends and family. Vacant of gloomy clouds and death knocking at your door, and filled with belly laughter and tears of joy instead. A time where the promise of sacrifice was made out of love and not for survival.
“Yunho, I–”
The remaining seven letters died in your throat as cold and wrinkly fingers sank into your shoulder. Yunho watched you scramble from the touch, his heart pounding for your safety, and felt completely useless. He couldn’t breathe until your blade was driven into the side of the biter’s head and the creature landed with a thud, blood pooling at your feet. The growling worsened and you needed to get a move on if you ever planned on seeing another shift between the sun and moon.
“Come back to me, do you understand?”
Your eyes met for what could be the last time and you drank him in like he was a part of the seven wonders of the world. His messy oak strands falling over his equally dark brows, knitted together with a crease in the middle that you wanted to smooth out. Trailing down to his naturally puffy eyes reflecting a storm of emotions — thundering anger and heavy anguish — threatening to spill over with tears. Your throat tightened. You couldn’t bear seeing the pain you inflicted upon him and hastily followed the slope of his pretty nose, red as a ripe strawberry. A beautiful blush, probably stemming from his anger, kissed his round cheeks and spread to his ears. The need to reach out and touch him, caress him with reassurances that everything would be fine grew at the sight of his trembling lips.
The angel on your shoulder whispered for you to run. Another whisper — this time from the devil — tingled your ears with the statement to stay a little longer. You wanted to heed the little red fella, but what you wanted wasn’t what you needed, so with a final nod, you tore away from his painful gaze and willed yourself not to turn back around because if you did, you wouldn’t be able to leave.
With fear and adrenaline pumping through your veins and the promise of returning alive, you slipped on the mask of a soldier — putting a pause to the war in your head — and faced the army of the dead.
“Come get me, fucking assholes!”
Hungry groans and aggravated snarls echoed loudly around the mall, each vibration reaching your bones, but your loud whoops and hollers didn’t waver. Not even when one of the infected got dangerously close to you, its teeth making a loud chopping sound like a knife violently smashing against a cutting board. You grabbed a chunk of its hair, guiding the monster as close to your skin as possible without it getting to sink its teeth into your neck. You were done being the prey. It was time for a change of roles. The taunting click of your tongue colliding with the roof of your mouth launched into the open as you sinisterly smiled at the biter.
“Go to hell.”
The sharp point of your knife pierced the underside of its jaw until the whole blade could be seen through its open mouth. Your hand, covered in red and wrapped around the hilt, was flat against the jaw and continued pushing upward. The anger, hurt and worry mixed into a new emotion that took over all of your senses. Revenge. With a new force of purpose, you pushed and pushed until the lower half of its face and jawbone ripped from the body like pieces of fabric. There was so much blood, tissue, and muscle beneath. .
Bile crawled up your throat as the corpse stared at you with an open mouth, if you could even call it that considering the nose and jaw were somewhere on the floor. The sight wasn’t for the weak and you were anything but that, yet the amount of blood gushing down and coating both you and the biter would follow you into the grave. It was an exact replica of the oral cavity poster in your local dentist’s office; the tongue, uvula, and tonsils were all in their righteous place. You forced down what was once your breakfast and wiped the blood, or sweat, maybe both, off your face and let the body fall.
The next kills were faster and less gruesome. There were a bunch of them after all and if you did a little show of each and every one, you wouldn’t return home until late into the night. Throwing a quick glance at the cosmetics shop, you relaxed at the empty spot that was once occupied by Yunho. He listened. He kept his promise and now it was your turn. Running for a brief escape, you whipped out your gun — the magazine full and waiting to be used — as you climbed the escalator — taking two steps at a time — just enough to get some space between you and the human eaters. You had both hands on the firearm to keep it steady and fired in quick succession. The first shot was loud and foreign, and the hairs on your body stood up, but you kept hugging the trigger as if it were your one purpose in life. Your ears got used to the deafening crack of thunder after the third round.
You counted five, ten, fifteen, twenty shots before you slipped the hot gun back in your holster. Always keep one bullet for emergencies, you used to tell Nari. Going out with a bullet piercing your brain was less painful than being shredded to death was what you liked to think. A bonus point if you do it correctly; you don’t come back as one of them.
The number was still high and if you were to count, you’d reach at least somewhere up to fifty biters. You didn’t even want to think of those unintentionally hiding or stuck in a store. It didn’t matter though, because you weren’t leaving until every infected was put to rest. For that to happen, you needed to stay alive and from the rapid speed the biters were going up the stairs (one would think they’d lost all sense of coordination when their brains turned into purée), it didn’t look so bright for you.
“Fuck,” you whispered and continued up to the second floor.
It was significantly darker and vacant, but you didn’t want to take your chances of getting cornered in a random shop. Although killing your way out of the mall was taking a toll on your body and sanity, that was something you already lost. The second floor was a completely different world than what was going on downstairs. The windows were intact, not a single speck of blood coated the walls and everything was in its place. It was like the disease stopped spreading after coming in touch with the escalators. A glass railing went around the whole second floor, giving you a perfect view of the chaos downstairs. The height difference wasn’t too big and a jump down wouldn’t cause you any harm, unless you fell unexpectedly. That would be a different story.
Pushing that to the back of your head, you passed a hardware store with a bunch of crowbars set on a display outside. Grinning to yourself like a child on Christmas Eve, you grabbed one of the many crowbars and gave it a swing. It’d be far easier welding a long piece of metal than your four-inch knife. Plus, it wouldn’t just be used to smash the heads in on biters, but to pull shit apart. Like doors.
“I think I’ll call you Maneater.”
The rustle of clothes worked as an alert. Right on cue, an infected staggered out of the very same store you got Maneater from.
“And you’re going to be my guinea pig.”
The loud, sickening crunch of bones breaking was eerily loud as the curved end of the crowbar met with the side of the biter’s head. Now, the second floor was tainted with a splatter of brains, and blood and everything in between. It didn’t disturb you anymore. How could it when the majority of you was drenched in a rotten, red liquid?
Some of the biters that followed you from the first floor had finally caught up. Their spine shaking groans announced their arrival and you gave one more twirl to Maneater.
“I’ve always wanted to try out for the baseball team,” you admitted and swung it again. “But mom said sport wasn’t for girls.”
Another biter fell limply. Its skull cracked open and one eye squeezed out of the socket at collision with the metal rod. You grunted and raised it high above your head. “This is as close to baseball as I’ll get.”
Swinging it down, you screwed your eyes shut to keep the grime and blood from splashing into them. The feel of Maneater plunging into the meat of the biter didn’t vibrate up your arms, but the sharp inhale of air getting caught in your throat did as you were pushed off balance. Tripping over your own feet, you crashed into the delicate railing which broke at immediate contact. Shards descended like snow around you and shimmered like thousands of miniature diamonds. The crowbar slipped out of your hold as you tried grabbing the air for support, but in the end, all you could do was watch the ceiling of the mall shrink while your arms and legs flailed out of your control.
Time slowed down as the realization set in. You were going to die. You didn’t keep your end of the promise and Yunho would return alone.You wouldn’t be there to teach Nari how to use a gun.
As you were falling to your death, a bitter smile took over your lips. You really had no regrets. And it seemed that even with one foot in your grave, you couldn’t stop lying to yourself. There were no regrets when it came to Nari, that much was true. Everything you did was for her safety; the murders, the running, the fights, everything was for her. But what about you?
Did you have any regrets for yourself? The answer was simple and short, only needing five letters to spell it out. Three vowels and two consonants to be exact. Yunho.
A sharp prick seared through your shoulder followed by the ground kissing your back. The pain was unlike any before and you immediately felt yourself losing consciousness. Everything hurt. The sudden headache was worse than any hangover you experienced in your college days and your shoulder burned with the slightest of movements. Lying there unable to move, you fought diligently to stay awake, eventually succumbing to the tired voice lulling you to sleep with the whisper to just close your eyes.
The fog surrounding you was thick and cold to the touch. Wetness seeped into your clothes and hair, and droplets echoed around you, but you couldn’t see a water source anywhere. Just a black void, much like space, that seemed to go on forever.
“Hello?” Your voice traveled through the vast darkness and no reply came back.
You didn’t understand. Where were you? What was this place?
“Auntie… wake up.”
Your head jolted to where the sound came from and your body followed. It was distant, but you’d recognize that voice any time of the day.
“Nari?” You cupped your hands around your mouth. “Nari!?”
“Auntie!” Her childish giggles swirled around you, once coming from your left and then the right. You turned in every direction, but the little girl wasn’t with you.
“Where are you?!”
“You need to wake up.”
“What?”
“Wake up, Auntie. They are coming.”
Your brows scrunched together as you tried making sense of her words. “Who is?”
“The monsters. They are coming for you… You need to wake up. Wake up!”
An invisible force with a presence so heavy ran through your body and threw you off your feet. A scream of sheer surprise and fright crawled out of your throat as you fell backwards, the faint presence of Nari standing before you — a dull expression painted on her features — as she did nothing to help you. It was unsettling. Landing in the water again with the darkness wrapping around you like a silk sheet, you woke up with a startle. You felt everything at once. The pain of the sharp object lodged in your shoulder blade and heat attacked your feet while your head was cool. Your throat was parched and hurt as you swallowed to soothe the itch, but it only made you taste dry blood.
Managing to turn your head sideways, you were greeted with a biter and the events from you didn’t know how long ago came surging back. It was the biter that caused all of this, lying face down beside you with parts of its body scattered all over the place. If the situation were different, you would’ve hung the fucker using its own intestines, but it wasn’t and all you could do was give it a glare and send your wish of it going to hell. Sluggishly slapping along your chest, you hoped to grasp the walkie-talkie that was supposed to be attached to you, but the little device wasn’t in its usual place and you cursed at your bad luck. Through your blurry vision, you could see shuffling further in the distance. The imaginary weight resting on your chest suddenly lifted and small gasps of air finally entered your lungs.
Muffled moans, something akin to being underwater, were the string pulling you back to reality. The eerie warning of your subconsciousness played in your mind. Grinding your teeth together, you mustered up little of the strength you had left and rolled over on your stomach. Your hands lay flat against the tile, the broken glass cutting into your skin as you lay in a pool of your own blood. Something shifted in your shoulder blade, and a cry of pain and desperation erupted from deep within.
“Fuck!”
Death would’ve been a better outcome than this.
Opening your eyes — that closed without you noticing — and blinking back tears, a laugh of disbelief almost slipped out at the object before you.
A blue piggy.
The blue piggy was staring at you. Its happy expression irked you beyond belief. It was all its fault. The biter and this stupid pig were to blame for everything. Your upper lip curled in a snark as you squeezed the living shit out of the toy and pushed to sit back up on your knees. Heart was getting a gift and you hoped to see the toy shred into pieces.
Commanding your body to stand up was harder than expected and your legs nearly gave out. The searing burn of agony spread like a wildfire all the way down to the tip of your toes. There was no point in trying to feel around as it would only hurt more with every twist and turn of your torso. The exit sign in the far back of the pet store flickered violently, as if it were trying to get your attention, and even though you didn't believe in miracles, you reconsidered your values then and there.
“It’s the only shop we can enter through the backdoor without gathering much attention and…”
Hours later and you still remembered his words. It wasn’t like you had much of a choice. The make-up store was a no-go and you didn’t have the energy to prance around and look for a safer exit. Who even knew how much time you had before your body would give out? The shuffling in the distance paired up with hungry grunts was getting louder, and with your condition, they’d reach you in no time. You had played it safe so far and received nothing but near-death experiences, what was one risk against ten precautions?
You bit into the material of your neck tube to stifle the cries made with each step. Staggering up to the emergency door, you leaned your forehead against the cool metal and jerked the handle, but it wouldn’t budge.
“Of course.”
The one thing you saved for yourself had to be used on something else. Letting the almost empty gun rest in your hand, you stepped back and aimed the muzzle straight at the lock. You had to make this count. You inhaled, exhaled, and pulled the trigger. A loud blaring alarm sounded through the whole mall and you had no need nor obligation to linger around until every biter in a mile radius crowded the area. With the piggy in hand and your other gripping the side of your torso, you limped out of the cursed place.
The weather was dull and gray, but brighter than inside the shopping center and it took a while for you to adjust to the light. Heavy rain pelted from the sky yet, the reason behind your wet clothes wasn’t to be blamed on nature. Standing in the middle of the parking lot, a trail of bloodied footsteps followed you only to be washed away as if they never existed in the first place. Raindrops trickled down your red-smeared face, revealing streaks of your skin beneath. The freezing temperature sweeped over your body, cooling off your muscles and rewarding you with the possibility of a cold which didn’t sound too bad. Glancing up at the gloomy clouds, your hand came to shield your eyes from the rain slapping harshly at your cheeks. It was impossible to tell if the moisture on your cheeks came from tears or the rain.
Your ten minutes were up. Yunho was gone and the weather portrayed your inner turmoil. The emotions you suppressed while on survival mode hit you fast and hard. You were happy he stayed true to his words, but the little part deep in your heart, cried and trashed around, disappointed he didn’t wait for you. At least you were alive. Dirty and hurt, but alive.
The storm would clean you up by the time you got home anyway, if you didn’t die from hypothermia that was. With a weight on your chest, a knife carrying the deaths of many and the will to see your family again, you headed home.
You weren’t angry with Yunho. How could you when it was you who made him promise to leave? When it was you who threw yourself to the wolves, better yet, to the brain-eating corpses and — more or less — locked him in a shop with no way out besides the backdoor. If anything, he had every right to be angry with you.
What if you died in front of his eyes? Or got seriously hurt?
There was no coming back from that, you knew that much yourself. The memory of putting that poor boy out of his misery resurfaced every time your eyes shut. Every thump reminded you of striking his head with the butt of your knife. You still remembered driving that same blade deep through his stomach until your hand touched his shirt, a dog taking up the majority of his tee. It was the first time you felt actual blood. Not the three drops from a paper cut or a harmless sample, but the slimy and warm kind that came in buckets. It was everywhere too; your hands, your clothes, his bedding covered in happy dinosaurs and rainbows. Days passed until your hands returned to their natural hue, but the nightmares never ceased. It was quite funny. You had seen a lot of fucked up shit, but the least violent death was still looming over your head.
Bright yellow lights blinded you. Throwing up a hand to reduce the damage and get a better look at what was happening, you peered between your fingers and saw the shape of a car slowing down. You couldn't find it in you to run. Everything hurt everywhere and your muscles ached with as little as a breath. The emergency alarm hadn’t stopped and hoards of infected would turn up any minute. The rain — which you already thought was heavy — turned harsher and bounced off the pavements like small shining diamonds. The sound of the car door opening and slamming against the metal hunk followed by rushing footsteps frightened you into a defensive stance.
You were tired of death. You were so tired of killing things, but the universe didn’t seem to care as she continued sending you threat after threat. The rope wrapped around your emotions slowly slipped out of your grip. Its rough texture grated along the skin of your palms and frustrated tears coated your waterline. The sob — a wail of utter fatigue — that slipped out was smothered by the rain and ear-piercing siren. You really tried holding on, but you could only suppress your hectic emotions for so long until your hands went limp and everything came crashing down. A tear streaked down your cheek, followed by another and another.
The figure ran head first at you and as you waited for a hard impact to plummet you to the ground, a pair of warm arms wrapped around you instead. Clean clothes and wet trees filled your senses.
“I got you.”
“Yuhn–Yunho?” You sluggishly asked, making sure it wasn’t another trick of your mind.
“Yeah, Yunho’s got you, angel. I’m here.”
You buried your nose in his shoulder and inhaled his comforting scent. Shutting your eyes and curling your fingers in the fabric on his back, holding onto every piece of him for dear life. You released a shuddering breath. The shirt smelled like him and his body was very real beneath your fingertips. That alone proved your subconsciousness wasn’t deceiving you. This was Yunho. The real Yunho. Your Yunho.
“I’m going to pick you up now, alright darling?”
His arms were gentle just like his soul and he handled you with absolute care. It made you feel warm despite the weather only Zeus himself could inflict upon the world, and you were oh-so-tired. Your empty stomach wasn’t a match against your full heart as it was all you needed to fall asleep. The last noise entering your consciousness was Yunho’s frantic voice.
“Hey, hey, hey! Stay with me. Come on, just stay with me!”
Yunho stood his ground as you went limp in his hold and his face paled at what he saw. A shard — not shorter than his palm — protruded out of your shoulder, somehow managing to diagonally cut into your skin and avoid the bulletproof vest. Just your luck. He wasted no time scooping you up bridal style, as if you weighed nothing more than a sack of potatoes, and thanked the heavens your head found his shoulder instead of lolling to the side in sync to his fast legs. His mechanic's heart hurt at leaving the engine running, but on second thought after feeling the warmth on his face, Yunho almost praised himself for his unintentional thinking. Despite that, he still stripped you off the first layer of clothing — cutting the shirt right in the middle — and decided to leave your tights on. The heat was as good as useless if you were completely wet. He maneuvered you to the side and covered you with the soft quilt he stored in the vehicle for emergencies like getting stuck in a storm or something.
The ride back home was done in silence minus the rapid patter of the rain and squelching of tires on asphalt. Much against his wishes, Yunho was plagued by the brief image of your bare torso, the black bra that left little to the imagination as well as his concern for your state. The glass was bloody and looked uncomfortably lodged in your shoulder blade. Shaking the beautiful and horrid image of you out of his head, he remembered why you passed out on him in the first place and the anger that disappeared at seeing you emerge from the mall resurfaced. A flurry of emotions swirled in his mind; concern, anger, sadness, relief… He couldn’t pinpoint if his heart beat erratically out of rage or desire.
Glancing in the rearview mirror, Yunho sighed as your chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. As long as you were breathing everything would be fine. Going under a surgical blade in the hands of Jeong Yunho would do you no good, unless your insides consisted of automotive parts. Spoiler; they didn’t. Pressing his foot flat on the pedal, he broke a handful of traffic rules holding as much significance as the first man on the moon in this time of day.
The next time you opened your eyes wasn’t in the backseat of the familiar Jeep Wrangler, but in the medical wing which was technically just a room not much bigger than Hongjoog’s office, but illusioned to be smaller because of the multiple lined-up beds. Turning your head to the right, you stared confusedly at the IV bag connected to your arm. A sudden coldness swept over you and you instinctively pressed your free hand to your stomach, expecting to meet with a blanket and not goosebump-covered skin. Distraught, you glanced down. Your shirt was missing — that alone should’ve had you on high alert — and in its place was a gauze going around your chest and over your right shoulder. A delicate feel kissed your fingertips as you gently ghosted it over the bandages. The tenderness quickly changed into harsh bites stemming from your back and erupting all over like fireworks.
The mall. The Apothecary. The hoard of biters. Yunho. The piggy. Leaving Yunho. Man-eater. Falling. The rain. Finding Yunho. Safety. Darkness.
It was too much information at once and your back pain was accompanied by a headache growing rapidly. It didn’t help that your mouth was unbelievably dry. The IV-bag seemed to be doing an awful job of keeping you hydrated. Feeling sluggish, but determined to get answers, you freed yourself of bedrest and ventured out in the hallway. Yeosang turned the corner and stopped abruptly. His stoic face fell into an expression of utter panic seeing you out of bed. A chart of some kind and a pencil clattered to the ground as he crossed the distance between you, gentle hands cupping your arm and elbow.
“When did you wake up?”
And when you couldn’t form a response because of your dry throat, he immediately steered you back into the room with strict orders to stay and not move until he was to return. What he failed to mention was the ten-something people he’d bring along, all equally happy to see you awake, but some more furious than others. To his credit, they were forced to wait outside as you got the chance to drink water and change into something more comfortable. The excuse of you needing rest could only hold them off for so long until Wooyoung barged through the doors, an accusing finger finding you like a moth drawn to a flame. The threats spilling out of his mouth faster than the shots of a machine gun were excused as a waterfall of tears sprung down his cheeks.
The words of malice came from a place of worry and love, and if you reciprocated that by masking your discomfort as he tightly hugged you — nearly opening the wound Yeosang diligently stitched together — no one had to know besides you. The reunion didn’t last long, all thanks to Yeosang’s strict orders that you needed a quiet recovery and Hongjoong’s authoritative voice backing him up. Being left alone with your thoughts was worse than having a group of chatterboxes asking you the same five questions every ten seconds. Because out of everyone there, out of everyone who came to see you, the two faces you searched for weren’t there and you didn’t know how to take that.
You expected it from Yunho. The radio silence and cold shoulder served as a punishment for your careless and considerate acts of heroism. Nari surprised you. More so the lack of her. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t sting a little. In other words, it hurt a tenfold of the stabbing pain coming from your shoulder. You missed her. A lot.
But like Yeosang said — hours after he came to drop off dinner and medicine — there was nothing you could do but wait her out, quite literally as you were trapped inside the makeshift hospital room. If it weren’t for his unmatched beauty and pleasantly calm demeanor, you would’ve sent him to hell a long time ago. Not only was he forcing pills down your throat and feeding you disgusting celery soup, now he was giving you unwanted advice concerning a child you raised since the stone age. Your agitation went up in smoke as the doors opened and a blur of black strands strode inside instead of Yeosang’s exasperating chestnut hair announcing dinner time in a sing-song voice.
Perhaps Nari missed you too and perhaps Yeosang was right, and perhaps you were imagining things as the girl stopped in front of your bed, both arms crossed over her chest and eyes cutting yours like she wanted you dead. Her sour frown left a bitter taste in your mouth. Soft taps filled the heavy silence and Heart — her true companion — sat down on his rear beside Nari. The blue piggy was caught between his teeth. It was good to know not all of your doing was in vain.
“You’re angry.”
The annoyed scoff and roll of her eyes was the second surprise.
“No, I’m so clearly happy.”
You heard the false chirp in her voice and scrunched the sheet in your hand to keep from snapping at her sudden bratty attitude. It’s justified, you told yourself and let her have her moment.
“I am so happy that the only person I care about nearly died. I am so happy my best friend sacrificed herself without a thought of what it may do to the people around her. I am so happy I almost became an orphan for the second time in my life! I am so happy, happy, happy!”
“Nari–”
“No! Ju–uh– just listen to me! Be quiet and let me speak!” She left no room for negotiation and snapped your mouth shut. The same shame of being reprimanded by your parents settled into your every bone.
“Just so you know, I’m only speaking to you because Yunho forced me to or he’d take away my Heart privileges…” She heaved in a breath of suffocating air and her voice cracked just as the next words separated your heart into two. “I’m so angry with you.”
Staring at Nari was like looking in a mirror. Your lips trembled and cheeks were wet from the salty tears slipping down to your chin and dropping on the pristine covers. You imagined your eyes to be red and irritated from the crying and it was a miracle you could produce more tears.
“I told you to be careful, right before you left. I said, be careful and you said, when am I not? Never! You’re never careful! I ask you to do one thing and you do the exact opposite! How come I have to act like the adult and you the kid? You’re the grown up, not me! I’m not supposed to see you bloody and barely breathing!”
“Nari, I’m sorry–”
“You don’t get to be sorry, okay?! A sorry won’t make things right again! What you did wasn’t fair! Not to me, not to you and definitely not to Yunho! Sacrificing yourself?! For what?! For who?!”
“You,” you wanted to scream at her. Everything was about her. Everything you did was for her. For her chance of living longer, living better.
“Do you know how it felt to see you so, so, so… close to death? Don’t answer that, of course you don’t. I couldn’t breathe. I was in hysterics and it hurt. Everything fucking hurt. I thought I lost you. And I can’t get it out of my head; Yunho screaming and crying, carrying your lifeless body in his arms and that shit lodged in your back… It’s– You’re–”
“I’m alive. I’m breathing. I’m okay, we’re okay.”
“Except we’re not! You don’t get to do fucked up shit and just say, ‘Oh, we’re good’ when giving us a scare! Giving me a scare! Are you fucking dumb!?”
“Hey, watch your mouth!”
“I will when you start acting like an adult. So do the adult thing and stop sacrificing yourself for others! I need you, okay?! I don’t care about the others! I don’t even care about myself! I need you and only you!
“I– I don’t know what to say to make that go through your head! What?! You want to hear about my parents?! Do you think I remember my mom?! My dad? You’re the closest thing to a family I have left! You are my mom and my dad! I can’t lose my family again! Please, don’t make me lose–”
Nari hid her face behind her hands and let the thundering sobs wreck through her body. Heart whined and nudged his snout against her thigh in consolation. It wasn’t enough. Nothing could be of comfort enough to erase the gut-wrenching image of your limp body or mend her inner wound. Not even when you got out of bed and guided her head into the crook of your neck did she feel better.
“I’m sorry, flower. So, so sorry.” You kissed the crown of her head. “You’re right. It wasn’t… I was in the wrong and I’ll do better. I’ll be better. Not just for you, but for me too, alright? You won’t ever have to worry about being the adult again… Can you forgive me?”
The little nod against your shoulder was delayed, but you didn’t care. You’d wait years if it meant her forgiveness.
The next time Yeosang came to check up on you — a tray of dinner in his hands — he silently backed out of the room as if never entering in the first place. On the hospital bed lay you and Nari, her nose hidden in the crook of your neck and a ticklish trail of air loomed across the exposed skin. Your chin nuzzled her forehead and your hands were light against her head. Nari’s arms were loosely stretched around your waist and would grow numb from the awkward position. Your legs wove into each other like a pretzel. The human-sized golden retriever was also there. His head a dead weight on your calf and the rest of his body pressed up against your back, tail tickling the exposed skin on your bicep. It was cramped and sweaty, but you wouldn’t change it, not even if the world went back to normal.
Disappointment. The bitter reaction of not getting what you expected and hoped for. If green was used to describe jealousy and yellow stood for happiness, then gray would be the color representing disappointment.
The reason for your disappointment? A man with brown hair, warm eyes and a laugh contagious enough to heal a wounded soul. Yunho didn’t visit you for the remaining time you were under Yeosang’s care. He came through stories told by the others, always hovering over whoever was your latest visitor and asking questions regarding your recovery, but never doing more than that. Never actually stepped foot inside the room. The week after you were discharged wasn’t any better. Hongjoong put you under strict orders to not go out on runs until you could move your arm without as much as flinching from pain and everyone walked around you on eggshells. As if you were a delicate piece of glass just waiting to break at the slightest inconvenience. At the news of your freedom, Yunho vanished into thin air. It was quite amusing how he was both the yellow you desperately wanted to see and the gray standing (figuratively) in your way.
The loud clanking against your cell diverted your attention from the cement ceiling to whoever felt the need to disturb your peace.
“He still hasn’t talked to you?” Wooyoung asked and sat down beside your feet, which you kindly shuffled more to the left.
“Talked? I haven’t seen him since I passed out in his arms. I don’t think talking is an option considering he’s a walking ghost.”
Wooyoung moved further up your bed. His back pressing up against the wall as his hands weaved together over his stomach. You laid your legs over his lap and breathed out a frustrated gust of air.
“I’d say give him time, but it has been, what? Two, three weeks since you got back. He’s just being petty at this point. Wasn’t it him who forced Nari to speak with you again?”
You nodded and Wooyoung huffed out a dry chuckle. “Very mature, Yunho… So what’s the plan?”
“There is no plan.”
“Oh, come on! You both can’t be self-deprecating, it’s only somewhat alright if one of you is being stupid, but both! Nuh-uh!” Wooyoung flopped beside you. His chin rested against the palms of his hands with his fingers squishing his cheeks and making them really pop.
“What do you want me to do, Woo? Yunho obviously doesn’t want anything to do with me. If you haven’t noticed, he’s avoiding me like the plague. The least I can do is stay out of his way if it means he’ll hang around everyone more. He was here before me, after all. His family before mine, no?”
“We both know that’s not true and if Yunho heard you speak like that, heck, if anyone heard you say shit like that they’d give you hell for it. You’re family as much as anyone else is, old as new members. So stop thinking like that… As for what you can do, how about you just, oh, I don’t know… Talk to him!”
You averted your gaze as the words wrapped around you like a hug. The rational part of your brain knew Wooyoung was right. That you weren’t intruding on anything. It was your family, your friends and your space as much as Yunho, Wooyoung and everyone else’s. However, the stubborn part of your brain feasted on your self-deprecating thoughts. It was why you didn’t fight Wooyoung on these matters because somewhere down the line of getting to know everyone, you realized Wooyoung wasn’t just a package of teasing and mischievous remarks. When he wanted to, he could say the things one needed to hear the most.
“We’ve already ruled that one out. The talking won’t happen until he wants it to.”
“Well, he’s acting like a loser, a really sore one at that.”
And as much as you wanted to agree with Wooyoung, to call Yunho a few mean words of your own, you couldn’t find it in you to voice those thoughts because they didn’t exist in the first place. All you saw was Yunho who took on the qualities of a golden retriever. The Yunho who would go up and beyond to turn a frown into a smile. The Yunho who would adopt every dog he came across and name them something sweet like Cheesecake or Muffin.
“I don’t care. Everyone has a right to process things in their own way, even Yunho.”
“I wish he didn’t. It’s dumb. Yes, you kind of messed up by putting yourself in danger and whatnot, but it wasn’t like you did it for shits and giggles! If it wasn’t you, then it’d be him. Trust me, I know that guy better than myself.”
You kicked Wooyoung’s thigh and sent him a teasing smile. “Yeah, because you’re always in everyone’s business but your own.”
The dramatic gasp filling the room was followed by your laugh.
“Do you want me to talk to him?” You knew Wooyoung only meant well, but his well wouldn’t bring anything good to the situation. Yunho wouldn’t give in and there’d be just one extra person involved in the war of cold shoulders and purposeful absences.
“Don’t bother. He’ll seek me out when he’s ready to hear what I have to say. I’ll just… lay low and give him space.”
“You do know you don’t have to sit here and hide all day, right? You can always come and hang out with me or San at the towers. Jongho could use some help in the weaponry, counting bullets and other boring shit if that’s more to your liking.”
“I know, Woo…”
As the silence took over, Wooyoung patted your calf and got up on his feet, simultaneously throwing a finger gun in your direction. “Well, duty calls. You know where to find me if you change your mind.”
“Hey,” you called out after a second of contemplation and he arched a brow in question. “Thank you… Umm, for being there… For being my friend, I mean.”
“Brother would be more fitting. We’re way past being friends, but I get what you mean and don’t mention it. We’re family, that’s what family does.”
Damn Wooyoung and his heartfelt words. The tears made an appearance as soon as he disappeared behind the corner and you wiped them away, not up to explaining why you were crying if someone were to pop out of nowhere. For so long, Nari was the only person you could call family. She was your home, your rock and your will to move forward. Your new family expanded to a little more than a handful of people ready to help you in their own peculiar ways. Your home still didn’t take on the form of a place or a building, but another person. Someone who couldn’t stand in the same room as you for the time being.
Turning over, you buried your nose — much like Wooyoung did with others’ businesses — in the pillow and threw the thin blanket over your head. Sleep was a great activity to make time pass faster, something you discovered while being chained to the hospital bed in Yeosang’s unit. For what you didn’t know, it didn’t seem like Yunho would search you out in the near future and it was alright. You had plenty of time to think over what to say. Until the options became too many and you couldn’t decide which was the best one. Apologize and admit your mistakes or reason for your actions and die before you ask for forgiveness. It was like Wooyoung said, Yunho would have done the same thing if you hadn’t beaten him to it. Then what? Would you treat him with the same coldness he showed you or would you stick to him like the gum on school desks?
The question was constantly on your mind and you were at war with yourself. In this moment, you liked to believe you’d forgive him, but there was no saying you wouldn’t be absolutely furious with him either. It was better to sleep on it, you consoled yourself and you closed your eyes.
Your dreams were scary and although that wasn’t anything new, it was unsettling. Instead of reliving the day you took an innocent life, you watched the mall mission like a movie. The only difference was you never made it back alive. Everything was the same up until the fall, because the moment you landed on your back, you startled back to consciousness. Drenched in cold sweat and a concerningly fast beating heart, you’d use the first few seconds awake to take in your surroundings. To remind yourself you were very much alive and in the safety of your room. It had been your routine for, give or take, two weeks. Sleeping was both a blessing and a curse. Escaping one reality for another — arguably one of the worst coping strategies you could choose from — wasn't something you’d ever get used to, and if it was your way of punishing yourself for hurting Yunho so much that he couldn’t stand breathing the same air as you, then so be it. Wooyoung called it self-deprecating, you saw it more as reaping what you sowed.
The moon was halfway up in the sky when you awoke from your rather restless sleep. Swirls of purple, yellow and orange mixed beautifully on the baby blue canvas wrapping around the earth. It was Wooyoung who, once again, came to check on you with the news that Mingi and Yunho were back from their weekly hunt and had actually managed to bring something back. A stew of deer meat cooked over the fire outside and the whole prison stood in line waiting for their share of the food. You soon joined them with a bowl of your own.
“Next!”
You shuffled over, your gaze unfocused and glued to the ground as you handed over the bowl. When they still hadn’t taken it out of your hands, you looked up with furrowed brows and a questioning tilt in your eyes only for it to be replaced with pure chock. Yunho looked as pretty as the day you last saw him.
You were just staring at each other, both surprised by the sudden encounter that neither showed signs of sweeping the awkward tension under the rug and getting on with the day. The people around you grew irritated at the uphold, the hunger and standing in the cold weather getting to their heads, and you — wanting to get out of there as soon as possible — literally pushed the plastic bowl in his hands so that he was left with no choice but to pour the stew and watch you disappear somewhere far out of his reach. If Yunho wanted space then space was what he’d get, you thought as you spotted the familiar head of Yeosang sitting around a fire. Hauling your ass over there, you occupied the empty spot beside the self designated nurse. He was startled at your sudden appearance and took in your disheveled state.
“Why does it look like you’ve seen something you shouldn’t have?” Yeosang asked hesitantly and sipped on his water.
To put it bluntly, Yeosang was very observative and a great friend of Wooyoung. Whatever Wooyoung knew, Yeosang did too, including your and Yunho’s feud. Trying to stall for more time, you scooped up a mouthful of deer stew. What you didn’t take into account was that Yunho served it straight out of a boiling pot. It burned your tongue and all of your tastebuds. Acting on pain and panic to stop the fire in your mouth, you snatched the paper cup right beneath Yeosang’s nose and downed the whole thing. Yeosang, being an angel in disguise, gave you his second glass too.
“You want more?”
You shook your head and set down the stew, deciding it was better to let it cool off first.
“So… What happened?” He tried his luck again.
“What do you mean, ‘What happened’? I just burned the shit out of my tongue!”
“Not that, you idiot. I’m talking about you running here like your ass caught fire.”
The glare you scrutinized him with did nothing to change the topic, instead he challenged you with a quirk of his brow.
“I saw Yunho.” The words were barely audible.
“What did you say?”
You leaned over to land a punch on his shoulder, but missed with a narrow distance as he moved.
“Think of your stitches, think of your stitches!”
“Whatever…”
Yeosang sheepishly smiled. “I’m just messing with you. So you finally met the guy and… How was it?”
“Good, we were actually talking about the rising economy. How do you think it was?”
“Awkward, probably.”
“Bullseye. I ran away after.”
“I noticed.”
“You know, for being a nurse who’s supposed to have some therapy knowledge, you really do suck.”
“Thanks, I’ll jot that down for our future sessions.”
Your next punch wasn’t futile.
As the sun gradually descended and a darker quilt laid over the green earth, more people joined you around the fire. You saw Nari and Eunwoo share a blanket further away from the group, pointing toward the sky full of stars as their sweet giggles weaved through the talking voices of the adults. They did sit a little too close for your liking, but you let it be. She couldn’t experience the normal sneaking around with a boy phase and that would be the closest she’d get to it.
Some time between the laughter and conversations shared with Yeosang and the other people, Yunho was added to the mix. He sat right across from you between the broad shoulders belonging to Mingi and San. You didn’t utter a single word in his presence and moved in on yourself to appear smaller, an attempt at going unnoticed by him. He sipped on the whiskey bottle being passed around the circle while giving Seonghwa his full attention and you took the chance to stare at the side of his face. He was absolutely ethereal. The orange glow of the fire kissed his cheeks and his eyes were even warmer, more inviting.
He looked happy.
Your eyes went wide as he suddenly turned to you. The smile fitting him perfectly dimmed and was replaced by a neutral expression. You pictured yourself reflecting that same blankness. He was the first to break contact and the corners of his mouth went up again as he re-entered the previous conversation. You let out an anxious breath, wondering if you really brought him that much misery. An arm laid over the bridge of your shoulders, the palm attached cupped your bicep and pulled you toward them. Glancing up, you were met with the side profile of Wooyoung. You must’ve been too caught up in your own thoughts to notice him slipping in beside you. The faint, barely-there squeeze was him letting you know he bore witness to the wordless exchange between you and Yunho. The top of your head touched his neck and he nuzzled his cheek against your hair, soft puffs of air going over your strands. And while you were usually opposed to skinship, you let Wooyoung spoil you with it, not having the mental energy to push him away as well as you found it to be quite comforting.
“You alright?”
“It’ll pass. Just like it always has.”
Although Wooyoung wasn’t really in tune with what you were referring to, he still nodded and gave you another supportive squeeze. Sadness, grief and anguish. All the emotions belonging to the color blue would resurface every now and then. The last memory of your parents, failing your math tests in high school, breaking up with your first serious boyfriend… Those were all sad occurrences in life that left a scar in your heart, but were somewhat mended with the essence of time. Some took longer than others and some never really healed, but either way, they passed. The brief moments of blue passed. Thus, you were certain this thing with Yunho would pass too. The question of whether you’d remain friends or go back to strangers wasn’t something you wanted to entertain with the heat of the flames caressing your cold skin so you left it for the future you to mull over.
The warm meal and nice company completely drained everyone as they just sat and enjoyed the stillness of the night.
Hongjoong, always having everyone’s best in mind, clapped his hands together. “We should call it a night.”
Albeit everyone would rather stay out more and bask in the comforting atmosphere, Hongjoong’s words were law and no one wanted to disobey the law, not even in a raging apocalypse. You took it upon yourself to collect the quilts while someone else put out the fire or cleaned up the stray dishes. A bunch of knitted quilts were swung over your left arm and as you bent down to pick up another one, your knee buckled making you lose your footing and head into the blazing fire.
Yunho scooped you up, his arm circling around your waist and flinging you off the ground to face away from the fire. Your back was pressed to his front and the rapid pounding of your hearts synced. Yunho’s hot breath curling over your ears and the sudden close proximity sent your body into overdrive. The autumn wind was useless against your burning skin. Your chest deflated in disappointment as he let you down, not a word of worry or comfort leaving his lips. Desperate and tired, you swung around and wrapped your fingers around his wrist, stopping him in his fleeting movement.
“Yunho, wait!”
Perhaps it was the honey dripping of your plea or the soft and delicate touch of your skin (that he missed so much, but would never admit) or it was simply him being curious as to what you had to say. Whatever the reason, Yunho did as told and maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t come to regret it for the second time around. But now, with his eyes on you and his pretty lips pressed in a determined line, you forgot what you wanted to say.
Hearing Wooyoung’s half-hearted advice from that evening echo in your mind, you cleared your throat and–
“You know, if you wanted to talk you could’ve just done so. There’s no need to bring a third party into,” he gestured between you, “this.”
“What?”
“Wooyoung.”
You kept replaying his words in your mind, dissecting each term, putting them together and so forth until they lost their meaning and you were back to the start trying to figure out what he meant.
“What?”
“Nothing, forget I said anything.”
Seeing him roll his eyes and hear his tongue click the roof of his mouth was your breaking point. Smoke huffed out of your nostrils as you grabbed the blankets from the ground, marched in front of him and stopped him right in his tracks with a hand on his chest. It was one thing to ignore you for weeks, but it was a whole other pain to hear him say demeaning shit to your face.
“You don’t get to do that,” you furiously spat. “You don’t get to disappear and then tell me I should have just talked to you. Yunho, I couldn’t find you even if I turned the whole prison inside out! An– and– and Wooyoung?! What the hell?!”
Your emotions were a tangled mess that not even the most talented hairdresser could unknot. Hurt, sadness, anger, disbelief, everything bled into each other until you couldn’t put a name to them anymore.
“Listen here. I don’t know what you think you saw, but it’s not like that and even if it was, why the fuck do you care?”
Your question was met with silence, but a wave of fury swayed in his eyes and you wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. You expected to hear a lot of things the day either of you confronted each other, but nothing could’ve prepared you for that wild and disrespectful assumption.
“I wanted to apologize for my selfish actions back in the mall, but I don’t think I’m sorry at all… Actually, I’m sorry I wasted my blood on you. I’m sorry I sacrificed myself for a guy who can’t bring himself to check up on me while bedridden or– or that the first thing he says to me is that I’m making ‘moves’ on his friend, on his brother! From the bottom of my heart, Yunho, go fuck yourself.”
You threw the blankets at him and walked off. Your job there was done. You heeded Wooyoung's advice only to have it all blow up in your face, although you weren’t going to fault him for the loose mouth of Jeong Yunho. The roles reversed as your wrist was trapped between Yunho’s slender fingers and the roots of the grass twined around your ankles keeping you in place. The grip tightened as a result of you fighting back, yanking and shaking as if touched by something poisonous.
“Don’t… Don’t go,” he pleaded. “That was stupid of me. I didn’t mean it. I just…”
Lost my cool. Got jealous. Missed you.
“You just what?”
You spun around and a fuming swirl of wind slapped him in the face. The growl ripped out of you drilled shame and guilt into his bones, and although the angry load Yunho carried for weeks evened it out, he couldn’t feel his blood boiling without red tinting his ears.
“I’m talking to you now, am I not? Are you going to answer me or stand there doing nothing, because I really have no issue with going back to you forgetting about my existence. I know I sure won’t have a problem with it.”
“You think I forgot about your existence?” He asked in disbelief, a broken expression lacing his features. “It was the only thing I couldn’t do. I could blame you and think of you as selfish, stupid, reckless, immature, irrational, anything, but you were still there. You occupied my mind every hour of the day, every dream and every nightmare… And when I wasn’t busy…” Yunho paused, seemingly searching for the right word. “Blaming you, I was turning gray from worry. So no, I can’t go back to ‘forgetting about your existence’ because I never did nor could forget about you!”
“Then what was it? You were too busy worrying about me to take a quick peek in the hospital wing? You couldn’t put your hatred aside to ask Nari, Yeosang, Wooyoung or whoever the fuck about my well being? You think I’m going to believe you cared when you couldn’t even show it? That on our first encounter since a month ago you couldn’t even say something simple as ‘Hi’ without looking absolutely shell shocked at my presence. I haven’t forgotten about you my ass, your face told me everything I needed to know.”
“If I fucking forgot about you, would I be dying to do this?”
Yunho stepped forward, determined to show you just how wrong you were. The feel of his hands — large, warm and slightly callused — cupping your cheeks was unexpected. The yelp of surprise died in your throat as he forced your face up to his and slothed his lips against yours. They were as chapped as they usually looked, but soft and carrying a hint of chocolate and whiskey. Your own arms hung limp by your sides, eyes wide and heart thumping against your ribcage. There was nothing besides Yunho, no anger baiting you to clamp down on his lip or a spiral of sadness telling you to push him away. You were completely consumed by him. His scent, touch and taste. It was all just Yunho.
As you failed to respond, he slid his thumb over your cheek and drew back. Before he could get as much as a centimeter of air between your mouths, you latched onto his wrists and lifted your chin to properly meet his lips, and closed your eyes. It was the most beautiful and tender first kiss you had ever shared with anyone before. It was innocent and sweet, a bit rough as you pushed your heads as close to one another until you were on the brink of hurting. You poured your all into it and broke it off as the need for air somehow grew bigger than your need to feel him on you. Chests heaving and lungs burning from the oxygen shortage, you didn’t dare to look away, afraid either of you would disappear.
“I could never forget about you,” Yunho breathed out, his hands gliding down to adorn your neck like a 24-karat gold necklace. His thumbs found your pulse point while his pointer finger caressed your nape in a slow manner, treading lightly on the strand between teasing and adoring.
Words failed you in the moment you needed them the most and to add fuel to the fire, your internal thoughts were a jumbled mess of nothing. You kept replaying the feeling of Yunho’s lips on yours, the heat that prickled your mouth after and how you wanted nothing more than to do it over and over again.
“Please say something.”
Realizing Yunho was as far gone as you was the push of confidence you needed to fulfill your wish. Using more force than intended, you tangled your fingers in the front of his shirt and pulled him into another kiss with mouths smashing and teeth clicking together. It was a stark contrast to the first one; needy, searing and desperate to reciprocate Yunho’s cryptic confession. You took Yunho's bottom lip between yours and worshiped him as if your life depended on it. His hands trailed gently all over you; waist, hips, even daring to give squeezes to your ass. You didn’t know how long you stood there, exploring each other like horny teenagers, but by the time you parted for air — hair messy, lips swollen and glossy, eyes intense with a burning desire — everyone had escaped inside.
The fire was long extinguished, but you were still warm all over and a different kind of flame ignited inside of you, born in your core and pulsed harder each second you weren’t touched by Yunho. The scorching hot butterflies fluttered more violently as his thumb swatted over your bottom lip, spreading the spit — his or yours, it didn’t matter — more, but he stopped as the weight of the situation dawned on him. Jumping right into bed after the agonizingly long weeks of ignoring each other and brewing an irritation that could only be cured by talking didn’t sit right with him.
A pregnant pause filled the space between your spit-swapping action and the beginning of Yunho’s next words.
“I really need you to say something or I’ll go crazy. I don’t think you understand how much you mean to me, so please, say something. Anything.”
“I… You– uh…”
It was so much easier to act than to speak. Why must he torture you? Wasn’t the kiss enough? Didn’t he feel your desperation seeping into his bone and very being? What more did you have to say for him to get it through his head that you were honestly, truly, completely in love with him?
You grabbed his amusingly large hand and placed it on your chest, right over your beating heart. As if feeling Yunho’s touch, the thumps came stronger and quicker. The chance to explain yourself wouldn’t come at a better time than this.
“You mean everything to me, Yunho. That thing back there in the mall? I did it because…”
“Because what?” His whisper was delicate like a summer breeze filtering through your hair and swooshing the seam of your sundress.
“Because I didn’t want you to die. Fuck, I didn’t even care what would happen to me, I just needed you to be safe and– and–”
“What about me?” He interrupted. “Did you even think what it would be like for me if you wouldn’t have made it out of there alive? Watching you hobble out, bloodied and looking more dead than alive hurt like a blade through the heart. I thought I lost you…”
“You didn’t though. I came back. Barely, but I did come back… To be honest with you, I didn’t think I’d affect anyone with my passing. Nari is an exception, but that’s about it. You’ve known them for longer than I have and… I thought it would hurt less if I was the one to go and not you.”
Tears filled his eyes and grew red at the saltiness. Yunho pressed his palms against them and breathed irregularly. Through his soft sobbing, his words came out drenched with disbelief. “How could you say that?! How could you–”
“I’m sorry,” you whispered.
“You can’t say sorry. That’s so fucked, why would you even think like that? Fuck, I felt like dying just looking at your limp body in my arms and you were the one on the verge of death, not me. Yet I couldn’t breathe until I got you to Yeosang.”
Yunho’s cries were loud and it was getting harder to understand him. You think you understood what he meant by feeling the pain of a blade through the heart. You closed the gap and circled your arms around him. He fell into you, his tears soaked through your shirt and his fingers almost tore holes into the material from how hard he was holding on. You rubbed soothing patterns into his back and patiently waited for his crying to subdue with a few reassuring pecks left along his shoulder and collarbone. When the silence was filled with his light sniffles and shuddering breaths, you continued from where you last left off.
“Is that why you didn’t come to visit?”
Yunho nodded and cleared his throat, but his voice was still raspy and muffled from crying and being pressed against your skin.
“I did come. I stayed the whole time you were unconscious, I was right there. That chair might have fucked my back forever, but I vowed not to move until you were stable…”
“I didn’t know,” you lamely admitted.
“I’d kill them. I said, if word got out that I was there, they’d wish a biter got to them before me.”
You cradled Yunho’s face and firmly pried him out from the comfort of your shoulder and directed his focus to your eyes. A watery smile curled your lips as the threat sounded so foreign coming from him. The Yunho who wouldn’t dream of hurting a fly, and who the children adorned and pets seeked out for comfort. Then a snippet of your first encounter flashed before your eyes and you remembered it to be the same Yunho who didn’t think twice when putting a bullet through the head of your perpetrator. Suddenly, the threat sounded more promising.
Yunho grew shy at the intense eye contact and enveloped your hands in his. He ran his thumbs over your knuckles in various patterns to divert the attention elsewhere, a coy trick to easier say what was on his mind without having your beautiful eyes dissecting him for his thoughts.
“I wasn’t angry then either. For those two weeks I felt nothing but fear for your life and it wasn’t until you came back that I let everything wash over me. That’s why I didn’t come after. Because I was so angry with you, but I need you to know I never, never, hated you… There’s another thing too, but it’s stupid.”
“Tell me,” you demanded.
It took a while. He managed to circle a couple of figure eights on the brass skin of your hands before revealing the embarrassing secret that tugged at his heart every night prior to falling asleep.
“You got hurt because you were trying to protect me so I thought, if I wasn’t there– if I wasn’t in your life anymore, you wouldn’t have the need to put yourself at risk for me ever again.”
“You’re so stupid, Yunho. That would never work. You could literally hate me, wish me dead–” You ignored the glare he sent you, “But it wouldn’t matter because I’d do it again, over and over again if it meant you’d be alright.”
Yunho deeply sighed. Your words made him hot and he was trying hard to ignore the heat fluttering inside of him. “Don't say stuff like that, it makes me want to kiss you.”
Always putting others' needs before yours was the path you molded for yourself and reaching for what you wanted wasn’t something that came naturally. But as the stars cheered you on with their soft twinkles of encouragement, you did the unimaginable and connected your souls for the third time that evening. The hour long nights spent talking about one another with the moon as your only witness paid off as she lovingly gazed down on your beautiful rendezvous.
“I guess there’s going to be a lot of kissing then,” you breathed out and moved a few stray hairs out of his eyes.
Since the outbreak started, you never once entertained the idea of finding a romantic connection. Your main focus was providing Nari with a safe future ensuring her a life where she could at least live past the age of thirty. Even if it meant sacrificing a few things. You didn’t realize how miserable you were until you crossed through the gates of Sector One. There was only so much you and Nari could do to quelch each other’s needs. Your start at the new camp was rocky. It was tough, yet you broke through everyone’s prejudice and showed them you weren’t just a suicidal bastard, but a woman with interests and feelings like everyone else. The apocalypse hadn’t erased the person you were before, it just took soft spoken words, gentle touches and a whole lot of understanding for you to come out of hiding.
In the meantime, you’d patiently wait. Maybe the world wouldn’t ever return to what it once was and maybe it would only go further down hill from there, but standing in front of Yunho as his eyes darted all over your face — the challenge of trying to figure out what part of you he wanted to admire the most was impossible to solve — melted away those worries. As long as you were surrounded by people keeping the flame of survival alive, you’d be fine.
© HONGJOONGSPOETRY 2024 - All rights reserved. Copying, editing, reposting or translating my work is not allowed.
#feedback: bbate#thank you so much enny#really#as I put in a lot of time and effort into it#jeong yunho x reader#ateez x reader#ateez#jeong yunho#im so happy you liked it
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Two Good Reasons, Part 12
Summary: Scott finally calls
Pairings: Andy Barber X Reader
Rating: mature
Warnings: language, Scott Huffman, drinking, 18+ ONLY
Word Count: 8.4K
Previous
Series Masterlist
*dividers created by @firefly-graphics
“Me pee. Me pee. Me pee,” Suede jumps up from the couch where he had been taking a nap. Ignoring how Andy is chuckling at the little boy sprinting towards the bathroom. Struggling to make it to the bathroom in time.
“Did you make it, buddy?” Andy keeps his laughter light, so his son doesn’t hear him.
“Chess. Me ake it, daddy. More bett-or,” more better always meaning he feels better. Andy returns to his laptop. Getting ahead of next week when he hears the little boy start to walk out of the bathroom.
“Hands, Suede.”
“Ugh,” the dramatic side has to be from Scott. Unless you were a drama queen when you were younger, and he does not think that is even possible. “Me hands cean!”
“No, they’re not. You touched your penis,” you were a bit unsure about the kids knowing the correct terms of their body parts, until Andy explained that there isn’t anything wrong with it, and then there would be no doubt if they need to tell you something.
“Ugh, otay! Me ash me hands,” he stomps up on his stool, starting to play in the water more than wash his hands. His little annoyance is over. He jumps off his stool to dry his hands, and ‘monster walks’ towards your bedroom. Stomping and growling until he stops, and stares at the empty bed. “Daddy!”
“Suedey,” Andy says calmly as the cute little boy walks into the living room. Shrugging animatedly, “What is it?”
“Where my mama at? Daddy, where my mama at?”
“She is in the bed with Audrey taking a nap,” Suede turns to walk towards the stairs, until Andy clears his throat, and Suede turns to face the man that has become his father. “Do not go and wake them up.”
“Me wake!”
“I know you’re awake, but they are not,” Suede huffs before crossing his arms over his chest, and sits on the floor. “You don’t have to be like that. You’re acting all moody. They’ll wake up soon.”
“Me pay,” Suede huffs out, sticking his bottom lip out for emphasis that this is serious.
“You and I can play.”
“You work,” Andy closes his laptop, and sets it on the side table. Returning the biggest smile on the little boy’s face as he jumps up, and runs to get his living room toys. “We pay?”
“Yes, buddy. You and I can play.”
“Mama seep. Audi seep. Why?" His smile gets even larger when Andy sits on the floor with him, so he dumps LEGO bricks onto the coffee table.
“Audrey likes spending time with mama, and mama has what in her belly?”
“Two babieeess!”
“Yes, exactly. And growing babies is a lot of work. So I let mama sleep whenever she gets tired. Audrey thinks she’s going to feel the babies move first. I think that’s why she’s always with her,” Suede shrugs again, and starts stacking brick upon brick. The explanation was enough for him. The more important thing was his daddy was now playing with him.
Before Andy can even start to build, your phone lights up with a call. Andy gives it a bit of acknowledgment before silencing the ring. “Do you like staying at home with mama?” He still hadn’t returned to daycare. You just couldn’t do it, and Andy never pressured you to send him.
“Chess,” is his simple answer. And he scowls when your phone lights up from another call, and the same person. Andy silences it again, sighing when he tries to pay attention to Suede. “Who dat?”
“Someone calling to talk to your mama,” he says, regretfully having to silence it again. He finally gets a moment of rest, until a text comes through. He shouldn’t snoop, but this is from a man that you have called so much in the past couple months. A man you have begged to call his daughter. It’s not snooping, this is scanning the message before you.
’I wish you’d pick up so I can talk to you about seeing my daughter.’
It shouldn’t bother him that Scott didn’t mention Suede at all. He’d terminated all rights to the little boy, and Andy is well on his way to adopt him. Making Suede legally his. Just like you are now legally his wife. A ceremony can happen after the twins are born, but he didn’t want to take any chances with Scott trying something stupid for a bit more control.
Not that he doubted who the twins belonged to. But Andy doesn’t want you to have unnecessary stress. A stress free environment is what you need, and he’s going to do his damnedest to make sure that happens, and these phone calls, and the text should not be happening. Especially since Audrey has quit asking for her dad, for now.
Audrey has been resilient. Almost accepting that her father didn’t want to see her, and the announcement of you being pregnant helped. She always wanted to be with you. Always wanted to help you. She would even bring you things without asking. Watching your water bottle to make sure you stayed hydrated. Needless to say, becoming a big sister again is something she truly wanted.
Andy knows it’s just a distraction at the moment. He knows bedtime is the hardest, and she would ask him or sometimes you about her dad, and when he was going to call, or see her and Suede. She wanted to know when she could tell her dad about you having two more babies. She wanted to tell him what she got for Christmas, even quit asking what she thought he would get her. She is protecting herself by not bringing up Scott, but she is curious.
It’s the one thing Andy truly didn’t understand. The thought that Scott has the ability to get her every other Saturday, currently overnight stays were not allowed until he went through an anger management class. Scott’s ego had been bruised, and instead of being a man, he’d pretended that he didn’t have kids. You warned Andy it wouldn’t last. Once his mom started to ask about the kids, especially her little lawyer, he’d start playing the game again.
Game.
Too many things make Andy sick about Scott, but the way he treats his flesh and blood is the most abhorrent. Andy doesn’t want Audrey to be out of his sight. Wants her to be right here under this roof where he knows she’s safe. She deserved to be home and with people that she loved, and loved her equally back. Not used her as a reflection for his own ego. Scott loved her as long as she was making him look good. And ultimately he determined Suede never would.
Disgusting. There is no other word for a father who can be away from his children like him. Andy missed seeing his family on a daily basis, and it was only for a few hours while he worked. He couldn’t wait to come back home knowing all three of you were waiting on him. Soon it would be all five of you. The difference is Andy always wanted this life, and with you.
“Daddy, my yuv oo,” Suedey smiles up at Andy, scooting just a little bit closer to the man.
“I love you, too, Suedey. To the moon.”
“And yack!”
—
You brush back the baby hairs off your daughter’s forehead. Leaning forward to kiss on the top of her head. You let the sweet tear drift down your cheek as you sniffle. Since telling her you were pregnant, she didn’t want to leave your side. Sweetly demanded that you take naps in her bed with her. You don't care. You love these frozen moments with her. A reminder that she’s still so little and young.
Your sweet amazing little girl is growing up too fast. She may be tiny, but she is mighty. You couldn’t have asked for a better big sister to her brother, and soon more siblings. She is more kind and patient than you could have imagined. Protective and the most loving little human you’ve ever met.
If you could have had her with a different man you would have. Thankfully she has Andy to fill in that empty space her daddy has left. You wipe a tear off your cheeks as you just watch her sleep. She’s so beautiful. The baby that made you a mom, and you could not be more proud.
Here at her home she gets to be the bubbly princess of her dreams. Her imagination here has changed dramatically. Her stuttering has slowed down. And much to Andy’s surprise, she was drawing unicorns, fairies, and castles with his and your help.
“Mommy, your tears are getting me all wet,” you softly laugh as Audrey sits up in her princess bed. The cozy throw still covers the both of you as she stretches, and yawns, “Why are you crying anyways? Is it bad? Are you hurting? Did the babies kick!?” her voice goes higher at the last question. She wants to feel them kick so much.
“I’m just so happy that I’m your mommy,” Audrey gives you a sweet smile before leaning towards you, and hugging you, while snuggling into you. You inhale the soft smell of her sweet pea shampoo, and pull her on top of you.
“Mommy! Am I going to hurt the babies! Oh no!”
“Audrey, if you were going to hurt them, I wouldn’t have done this. Just give me a big ole hug,” she does. Burying herself deeper into your body. “What are we going to have for supper tonight?”
“Daddy said mush, but you said it was going to be chicken and rice with carrots and broccoli. So can we have that instead?” You love hearing her call Andy daddy. One day it just naturally turned into that. You knew it might not stick. That there was this part of her that needed to have a father in her life, and Andy fills that void. He’s always present, and always there for her and Suede. You know that his relationship with your baby boy is such a comfort to Audrey.
“Yes, my darling, we’ll have chicken and rice. Mmm,” you groan, sitting up and stretching. “Shall we go check on your brother and…”
“Daddy. Yes,” she interrupts you, and starts to crawl out of the bed. “You can call him that for me, you know?” It’s the first time that she ever told you that it was okay to acknowledge Andy as her daddy.
“You’re sure?” She nods her head. “You’re really sure?” Audrey giggles, nodding her head more. “You’re completely positive I can refer to Andy as your daddy?”
“Suede calls him that, and the twins will, too, so why can’t I?” You can’t argue with that logic. You didn’t care about Scott’s feelings anymore. May his balls smell and itch, and Taylor doesn’t want to have sex with him. “I think daddy suits him.”
“Me, too,” you answer with the utmost sincerity. Being a father is the sexiest you’ve ever seen Andy. “Come on. I think you and Suede need to play in the living room, while daddy and I get dinner going. And I’m cooking this all in the oven, so when it’s in there, we get to play with you, too.”
“Yes!” She screams, darting to the door. Her little feet pad to the stairs too quickly for Andy’s liking.
“Princess, don’t you run down those stairs,” you hear your now husband tell her, and her footsteps slow down. No screaming, and no condescending tone. Stretching again, you get her bed back in proper order before heading downstairs yourself. The quicker you get dinner in the oven, the quicker you get to spend time with your family.
Lazy Sundays are your absolute favorite. Until you’re met at the bottom of the steps by Andy. Instead of his warm smile, his brows are lifted, and the lines in his forehead seem deeper, “I just woke up. I don’t…”
“Scott called,” you gulp, looking to the living room to see Audrey and Suede happily playing with toys out in the open. They are happy. Audrey has dealt with the absence of her father. It hasn’t been easy, but is he wanting to talk to her, and then be absent again? If he’s coming into her life you want consistency. Him being gone almost broke her.
“Honey,” Andy says softly, pulling you in for a deep hug. He holds you so tight against him, rubbing your back as you let the tears of anger and frustration spill from your eyes. “Shh, let's go into the kitchen,” you nod, following him away from the joyous laughter, while you want to scream. Rage.
He lets the door to the kitchen close before issuing the softest kiss to your forehead. “Tell me what he said,” your voice is already flat and hoarse as he hands your phone to you. “He called six times before the text?”
“Well, five times, a text, and then a call again. With a voicemail. He won’t talk to you that way,” Andy’s voice is stern as he glares at your phone. If he could, he’d make Scott disappear forever.
“Scott is going to talk to me however he wants,” you answer nonchalantly. You’ve heard worse, and from him.
“He will not talk to you that way,” Andy repeats himself with a much more agitation in his tone. “I get that he has rights to his daughter,” Andy’s nose flares, and his hand resting on the counter top flexes. His knuckles go white as he tries to calm down. “But he will not talk to my wife that way. We can go about this calmly and like adults, or he can go back to supervised visits.”
“That won’t help anything. So he wants our daughter this weekend. I have to give him that access, and then he brings her back home to us at the end of the day?” Andy nods his head, his arm starting to relax. “Can we make him be consistent with this? Every other Saturday always. She just stopped calling Ransom in the middle of the night.”
“We can keep a record of his involvement. But there’s only so much we can do when it’s court mandated,” you roll your eyes, needing to busy yourself with preparing dinner. “Doe, I’m sorry.”
“And how do you think it’s going to go when he takes Audrey, and not Suede?” it’s the thing that had been bothering Andy the whole time he was waiting on you to wake. “She is even more attached to him than ever before. And what about Suede? I think he’s fully accepted you as his father, but he’ll be taking his sister away. And what if he realizes, that man didn’t want me. Ow!” You drop the knife onto the counter. This is why you shouldn’t cut vegetables when angry.
Andy is so fast to react. He’s by your side in a split second, pulling your hand to the sink, letting cold water run over your finger as he kisses your temple, and you can’t control your tears. “It’s not fair to either one of them. It’d be better off if he gave up rights to both of them. I know this is going to be a shitshow, and you’re — you’re telling me there’s n-n-n-nothing I can do?”
“Unfortunately,” his answer is so somber as he pulls out a drawer that holds a mini first aid kit. “You know I will fight like hell to get all of this resolved legally. And in time, he’ll grow bored of Audrey.”
“At Audrey’s expense,” grow bored of his daughter. How? She is amazing! She’s perfect and growing and changing so much. Scott would rather opt out of the minor hard things because of the inconvenience while also missing out all these small little moments of laughter and love that make it all worth it.
“I know. We have to be patient. If I could do anything, do you not think I would?” He kisses your bandage finger, and looks deep into your eyes. “There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you or our kids,” Andy emphasizes ‘our’, extending that word to Audrey as well. You’ve never doubted his love and protection towards both your children. You’ve witnessed it. “But we have got to follow the law. We could be held in contempt of court, and that won’t happen. So trust me on this. But I will tell you again, that man will not talk to my wife that way. And I will make it perfectly clear how he will not do that. I don’t want him calling your phone back to back, leaving angry voicemails, or even the texts. One phone call, one voicemail, or one text. And honey, you’ll have to pick up when he calls if you can, okay?”
“Yes, sir,” your face starts softening, and he pulls you in for a bruising kiss. Holding onto your belly as he swirls his hands over your little bump. No wonder you're growing at a faster rate than the previous pregnancies. You’ve got two beautiful babies in there. Beautiful babies that you and Andy created out of the most passionate and sweet love.
“Don’t be cheeky.”
“Yes, sir,” he swats your ass with his free hand before pushing you away from the cutting board. “Dinner!”
“You’re injured. Sit down and watch me or go play with the kids.”
“I do really like watching you,” he rolls his eyes as he smiles, washing his hands to take over dinner prep. “Andy, you know I trust you. This is just the hardest thing I’ve ever had to deal with, okay?”
“I know,” he responds as you gulp. How did you get so lucky to find this man twice? Two times in your life you got to love him, and he never doubted that you would find each other again. Waited on you because he knew you were the one. He’s better than any man you could have imagined for yourself, but especially for your children.
“Mommy?” Audrey watches you flitter about, packing her a backpack, and you are too cowardly to even tell her why. Choosing to ignore the question in her voice when you slip her iPad mini into her bag. “Mommy, where we going?”
You aren’t sure. Just with her dad. He could take her to his apartment. He could take her to soft play. Maybe to the park. “Is Suede going?” you shake your head no, still unable to fully look at her.
“So is it with Uncle Ann?” Her voice gets so light and excited as she runs to her closet. “He said he was going to take me and to see a movie with Miss Tatum. Can I wear a pretty dress? Make sure to pack my Madeline doll he got me, and a blanket. It gets cold in the theater. Are you and daddy taking Suede somewhere? Uncle Ann said a movie might be too long for him, but he’d take us to soft play with Miss Tatum. I can’t wait.”
“Baby, you’re not going with Uncle Ann.”
“So is this a me and you day?” You shake your head no again, sitting on her princess bed as you rub along the swell of your belly. “I don’t understand.”
“Audi, your dad is going to spend the day with you,” she stares at you a bit confused at the statement.
“But why can’t you and Suede go with us?” The lines of course will be blurred as to who you are referring to. She hadn’t so much as heard from Scott in months, much less seen him. “Mommy?”
“Not your Andy daddy.”
“Oh,” she sits down immediately on the floor as her brows pitch up. Trying to work through her feelings while you just watch her. Giving her some space to figure this out, “But why — why not Suede, too?”
“Umm, your father,” it’s best to differentiate by using that word. Daddy is too sweet of a title for him. A title he never deserved, “He — well, he is going to allow Andy to adopt him.”
“Can Andy adopt me?” There’s a soft smile that tugs at her lip that makes you hurt. You would prefer that Andy adopt Audrey as well.
“No, it’s not that simple.”
“Then how come he gets to adopt Suede?”
“Because your father felt it was in his best interest to not be Suede’s dad,” Andy says in the doorway. You’re thankful that he didn’t leave you to drown on this.
“But I want you to adopt me like Suede. That’s not fair,” her arms cross over her chest and she pouts. “Y-y-y-you said that we do things as a family. And adopting him, and not me, is not being a family. That means I don’t match.”
“What do you mean not match?” You try to keep your tears inside of you. She isn’t wrong, this isn’t fair. It’s confusing. Especially to a child that is intelligent and can piece this puzzle together. Knowing your child she will fixate on this conversation. She’ll come up with a scenario on what’s wrong with her, or what’s wrong with Suede. But the reality is her father is what’s wrong.
“Well, if daddy adopts Suede what will his last name be?”
“Barber,” Andy says stoically. He walks over to Audrey, and kneels down before her.
“And the twins, what is their last name?”
“Barber,” you already know where her brain is going, and it pains you. Scott is beyond selfish, especially where Audrey is concerned.
“And you — your name is already Barber now. So I’m the only Huffman. That is not fair. That is not doing things as a family. And if I go to his house how will I know that Suede is breathing? Y-y-y-you can’t watch him all the time. Where is Suede now? Who is checking on his breathing? I-I-I-I can’t trust you to make sure he doesn’t have an allergic reaction. That that that that is my job as the big sister. And and and and and and,” her cheeks turn ruddy as she tries to catch her breath. The stutter you thought was gone now returning with one mention of her father, and her stress.
Scott deserves to hear these words. He should know the anxiety that he has caused his daughter concerning her brother’s breathing. A worry that she shouldn’t have as a five-year-old.
“Audi, princess, I need you to breathe for daddy, okay?”
“Am I allowed to still call you daddy?”
“I told you, you get to call me whatever it is you want.”
“But my last name isn’t Barber. I don’t like this. I don’t want to go to his house. I want to stay with you. He he he he he didn’t tell me Merry Christmas. He didn’t didn’t didn’t didn’t make sure Suede was okay. And he doesn’t doesn’t doesn’t doesn’t ever tell me he loves me. He never never never never does,” you look towards Andy, begging him without words to not make her go. He never says he loves her. He could not tell you when you were married, but she’s a baby.
“And if if if I’m not here I can’t can’t feel my twins move first. And — it’s not fair! I hate you and I hate him!” Screaming she stands up, and pulls the bag out of your hand, throwing it across the room. “I don’t want to go! Do you not want me?”
“Baby, I want you for always,” you tell her. Struggling to talk yourself. You hate Scott. Hate the emotional turmoil that he has always put your daughter in. “But Scott has a right to see you.”
“Then he should have. But he didn’t. Not even at Christmas. Don’t make me go. No! Mommy is that him? I don’t want to go! Don’t make me,” The doorbell rings, and you watch Suede dart past her bedroom door, followed by Andy who scoops him up before he gets to the stairs. “No no no no, mommy, don’t make me go. What if I miss something here?” Tears trail down her face, and you pull her into your body. Wishing you could change this. A few hours seemed so long. Too long to be away from her family.
“We won’t do anything without you here. We’ll be waiting on you until Scott brings you back later.”
“I don’t have to sleep there?” in a perfect world she wouldn’t even have to go there.
“No, baby. Your father has homework to do before he can keep you overnight. It’s just for a few hours. Okay?”
She nods her head, and pulls away from your embrace, “I don’t hate you.”
“I know you don’t, baby. Come on. Let’s go see your father.”
She grabs onto your hand without a second thought. Holding you almost too tight while you pick up her bag, and walk towards the stairs. Parenting is always going to be hard, but this is a slow torture. It will only be six hours, and yet you feel like you’re going to be without her for an entire year. He’d missed so much, and didn’t even care. Your children were always a leverage to him. You wanted them, and he wanted them to hurt you.
“No!” Suede screams as he shakes his head at Andy. “No, daddy, no. No, ike that!” Andy’s grip on Suede gets tighter as he tries to comfort his son, instead of saying how he knew he didn’t like the man at the door.
“Scott, wanna come in?”
“No,” he answers shortly. Staring off into the distance because he can’t look at his biological son. Andy loathes him. The games he plays at the expense of his children are sick. It’s evil. They are his flesh and blood, and he can be so callous with them.
“Wow,” he says with no enthusiasm as you and Audrey walk into his view. “You sure didn't waste any time, I see. Shocking really. You weren’t supposed to be able to get pregnant. You sure…”
“Yes, the twins are mine. And it was all natural,” you’re not in the mood for a fucking pissing contest. Your first little love is distraught and has mixed emotions, and you were not in the mood for this. You just want to close the door on Scott, and pretend this didn’t happen.
“Audrey, let's go,” he’s so cold. No, ‘hey, I missed you. We’re going to have fun.’ Just let’s go because I lawfully deserve this.
“Do I have to?” She asks, looking up at you.
“Yes, you have to, unless you want your mom in jail. Now, let's go. I’ve got your Christmas presents.”
“Me yoys?” Suede asks, looking at Andy, and you see Scott rolls his eyes at him. Reacting with anger will only make this worse. Audrey needs you to be the strong one, the steady one, the one that she can rely on when her father fails her. “Daddy, me yoys, too?”
“Still can’t talk right,” he wants to piss you off. He wants to be hit. He is provoking both you and ANdy.
“He talks just fine,” Audrey furrows her brows, and steps away from him. “Say you’re sorry.”
“We gotta go. Get out of the house, and let’s get in the car.”
“No!” She stomps her foot, grimacing as she stares at him.
“You need to tell our daughter it’s time to go.”
“And you need to watch how you talk to my wife.”
“Wife?” Scott chuckles, and snaps his fingers at Audrey.
“I am not going with you. Say you’re sorry!”
“I don’t have time for these fucking games. Now get in the goddamn car.”
“Enough!” You scream to everyone in the room. The chaos of the conversation is making your heart race, and your emotions are at their limit. “Scott, you won’t come here disrespecting my home, and my family. That goes for Suede, Andy, and Audrey. She asked you to apologize to her brother.”
Scott hadn’t tried to set foot in the house, leading you to believe that he isn’t going to. He declined the invitation. If this is another one of his games to say he tried to get Audrey, but you refused, you’ll scream. It seems he came here just to start a fight so you would demand he couldn’t take her.
“Audrey is really confused and upset about how things have transpired. You haven’t returned any of her calls or her text messages since her birthday. So you will have to forgive her for her behavior. Everyone here is helping with Suede’s speech, and it’s improved. He speaks in sentences. So you constantly being rude about it doesn’t help. Now everyone, just breathe, and let's do this in a calm manner.”
“You can’t keep her from me.”
“I’m not trying to. I am making sure my daughter feels comfortable when she leaves, and she asked you to right one wrong.”
“I’m her father,” something he’ll never let you forget.
“Then act like it,” you warn him, and give a small squeeze to Audrey’s hand. “Apologize to her brother.”
“Sorry,” Scott gruffs out, and Suede is already playing with Andy’s beard to pay him any mind. “Audrey, let’s go.”
“And do not use foul language in front of her. She’s five, in case you forgot,” Scott only nods his head, holding his hand up for Audrey to take.
“Mommy?” His sorry was pathetic. But you can’t hold her from him. You won’t be the one that didn’t put effort in their relationship.
“I expect you to bring her back here by three o’clock,” Scott nods, wiggling his fingers towards Audrey. “And she has her iPad mini, and some toys. So if you need us, call us. We’ll be there in a second to get her early, or whatever.”
“Three?” You nod your head at Audrey, knowing she’s going to watch her iPad like a hawk now. “You promise to bring me back home?”
“Yes,” Scott answers, annoyed. Why he wanted kids is beyond you. Seeing how he easily can dismiss both of them is appalling.
“Mommy, daddy, Suedey, I love you.”
“Love you, princess,” Andy glares up at Scott as he gives Audrey a hug. A silent warning that he better behave. Scott’s aware of Andy’s influence and power. Andy gives her a chance to hug Suede before she’s reaching for you.
“If you need me, call me, baby.”
“She’s not a baby,” you ignore him. She will always be your baby. Forever will be your baby. And you’ll protect her however you have to. You hope this is the last visit Scott requests. You‘re sure his pride is hit so hard from this, and you pray it’s enough for him to just wipe his hands. Let him live his child free life that he seems to love.
“I will. I’ll call,” she sniffles, and pulls away from you. This is the hardest it’s ever been to let her go. Scott better show her more kindness than he has been. You won’t let him continue to get her. You’ll come up with something. You want her safe, and feel secure in her feelings. Hearing her stutter come back pains you. She is too young to have to deal with these big emotions. It’s too complicated, and she shouldn’t have to try and navigate them. You just hope this is a short visit. Less than the allotted six hours.
You’ll miss her every second she’s away with your phone glued to your hand. She would be okay. She would be okay. And you have to keep reminding yourself until it comes true. She will be okay.
“Has she called Ransom?” Andy hasn’t even got Ransom’s response before you nervously ask again. “Andy?” he looks up from his phone shaking his head. “I’m calling Scott again. He’s thirty minutes late. She is supposed to be Here at three. Andy, what do we do?”
“Audi at?” Suede pouts, stomping his foot. “My Audi at? Oo yie.”
“I did not lie, buddy. She was supposed to be here. Doe,” Andy’s thick fingers rub over his beard as he thinks. “Come on. We’re going to his house, and we’ll go get our girl.”
“Yay! Go to sissy!” Suede sprints towards the garage, and you grab his cup just in case. Ready to start pacing. Scott probably lost track of time. But him not answering his damn phone makes you uneasy. And Audrey hadn’t called anyone from her iPad. This isn’t like her. And something in your gut makes you queasy, and you don’t think it’s the twins.
“He can’t keep her from us. You have the upper hand here.”
“I don’t want to fight about my daughter though. I would be okay if he told me what was going on. But nothing. That, I don’t like,” the two of you walk into the garage, and you can’t help but smile at Suede already in his seat with his straps on, but not buckled. “Let’s go get our princess.”
—
“No! No no! No yike it hewe! No, daddy!”
“We’re not staying, buddy. We’re just getting Audrey,” Suede’s anxious face turns into a fake smile. If there’s one thing you would change about your life it would be leaving Scott before he got caught cheating. You tried to pacify him for too long. Let him get away with playing games with you, and also your children, all because you felt it was the right thing.
“I’ll go get her,” Andy says, leaning over to give you a kiss. You just want to know your daughter is safe, and had fun. You didn’t want to see Scott. Didn’t want to hear him. All you want is her safe with you. Andy could be the diplomatic one, while you’re acting all on emotions due to the pregnancy and the weird urgency you feel to have her in your arms.
He walks up the few steps to the house, a vastly different feeling than the first time he did this. He was supposed to be just bringing your wallet home. He gives the door a knock, and Scott slings it wide open swaying with the swift movement, “What?”
“You missed drop off time.”
“Yeah, well, I went to you to pick her up. Seems fair for you to come here,” he shrugs, doppily he rocks on his feet.
“You okay?”
“You know, Barber, I’m really not okay. My tramp of an ex wife blamed the divorce on me. And yet here she is, married to you, and you fucked a damn bastard in her belly,” Andy growls, glaring at the man. “I didn’t want another child after the fucking mistake of having a second one. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her, am I right?” He winks at Andy, and Andy’s anger towards Scott grows. The bastard lied. You weren’t the problem. He was. He got a fucking vasectomy and blamed you for not getting pregnant.
”But you know you ruined everything. I don’t even have someone to carry on my fucking name, and you, you son of a bitch do, and Suede’s not even your fucking mistake. If he wasn’t born, we’d still be together. She changed after him.”
“Audrey! Grab your things, princess, it’s time to go,” Andy wants his daughter, and wants out there. Scott always wants a fight. Low blows. The asshole.
“I’m not finished with you, you prick. I hope you always remember that my wife took me whenever I wanted her. She was a submissive little bitch.”
Andy pulls Scott closer to him by his shirt, getting right into his ear, “You better watch your goddamn mouth when you're speaking about my family. Sober the fuck up. Next time you can’t contain your fucking drinking, call me, and I’ll pick up my daughter. Have I made myself clear?” Andy pushes him off him slightly, but it’s enough to have Scott stumbling backwards before he falls on his ass, and Audrey runs straight to Andy trembling.
Pushing herself tightly against her dad, and he picks her up, letting her wrap her arms around his neck, “Audi, you okay, princess?” He feels her shake her head no, and he continues glaring at Scott who tries to get his wits about him, but instead stumbles again as he tries to stand again. “Taylor here?”
“She left.”
“Slut! She’s such a fucking slut. Spreading her legs for…”
“Audrey, go out to the car, and tell mommy to call the cops, okay?” Her body continues to shake. She might not understand what’s going on with Scott, but she knows it isn’t right.
“Is he in trouble?”
“I just want to make sure someone can babysit him. He looks unwell.”
“He had a bottle with him.”
“Audrey,” he sits the little girl down, and she runs towards the car. As soon as she’s out of eyesight, Andy squats down to Scott, “You done fucked up, you little prick. You carried a bottle around, while you got yourself drunk and my daughter was here with you.”
“My daughter.”
“You’re not even man enough to tell her you’re unwell. All this shit piling up on you Scott, is your fault. Not my wife’s, and certainly not my kids. Drink yourself into oblivion, I don’t care. But not around her.”
“You can keep the stupid one. Oh,” Scott coughs when Andy kicks his side. Not enough to leave a bruise, but enough to get some instant gratification. It takes a very small man to make fun of a child, “He’s not right. He’s nothing but trouble. You’ll see. She’ll always love that kid more than you.”
“See the difference is I know that my kids need her in a different way than I need her. I know that she’ll tend to them because of that need for her. I’m an adult. I don’t need her to feed me, take care of me. I don’t need her. I want her. I cherish her. I worship the ground that she walks on. You had it all. You had the most perfect woman.”
“Pregnancy fucked her body up,” pregnancy made you more desireable to Andy. Your soft curves, the glow on your face, the way you loved being a mom. No wonder Scott went younger. You were the respectable wife, when all he wants is a sex toy with no attachments.
“I think that was you,” Scott’s eyes roll in the back of his head as the lights of a cop car come into view. Just another thing Andy has to deal with, instead of comforting his family. He’ll calmly give a statement. Having a legal document of Scott’s inebriation while in charge of Audrey. “Fuck you, Scott,” Andy groans as he turns to meet the officer. He needs to ease your mind that he’s okay. Let you see that you’re not hurt.
Scott Huffman will regret today. If anything happened to Audrey there would be hell to pay. Supervised visits will be pushed. Incidences like this will not happen again. Scott spiraled and spiraled until he turned to his main vice, alcohol. He’ll regret today. And every day after if he continues to talk about you or the children like that.
“What do you mean she won’t talk to us?” You demand, trying to walk up the stairs to Audrey. “Andy Barber, you let me go see my daughter. Andy! Move, please!”
“She’s asked for Ransom,” you roll your eyes, growling as you try to push past him. “Ransom was going on a date with Miss Tatum.”
“So then I need to see my child,” he’s really getting on your nerves trying to block you.
“And Ransom said that he didn’t mind if she came with them, so he’s on his way here.”
“But that’s my daughter. And she — what happened? What happened? And why did I need to call the police?” You waited for it to be just you and Andy. But you need to know.
“Mama, yook!” Suede holds up a tower of LEGO bricks he built, but you just want to talk with your daughter. You need to hold her, and just show her love and comfort.
“Doe, I think she wants Ransom because you are all emotional,” you huff, trying to skirt past him quickly, but he blocks you again. “I would rather her talk to us. She isn’t physically hurt. She’s upset, and asked for Ransom. Ran is the ADA, and he’ll know the right way to talk to her, and if there’s anything wrong he will call and bring her home. But can you give her this safe space with him?”
You don’t like it, even though Andy is right. She’s willing to talk with Ransom, and getting out of the house and with her teacher could be a good thing. “He’s getting her an hour before picking up Tatum. That way she won’t feel obligated to talk in front of her.”
“Why didn’t she call? She called none of us. Not even Suede. Can you at least tell me what’s going on?”
Andy’s Adam’s apple bobs as he looks from you to the floor. Contemplating if he wanted to tell you at all. It has to be bad, and your mind is going everywhere, and you’re unsure if it’s close. “He was very drunk.”
“Son of a bitch,” Andy pulls you in so tight to his body. Your anger instantly spurring tears. You want Scott to physically hurt as bad as he makes your daughter hurt emotionally. She had to have been so scared and confused. Scott is an angry drunk, and you never would want her to witness that.
“Mama, what ong? Daddy, mama cy?”
“Mama’s okay, buddy. Hey, can you go make me a dragon?” Suede shakes his head no, and pulls at your pants. “Make daddy a really big tower for us to knock down.”
“Chess!” He screams, running back into the family room.
“She wasn’t hurt?” Your voice is so weak. He’ll never see her again if you have anything to say about it. Now you understand the reason for the cops. Andy was documenting that Scott was drunk while Audrey was there. Bastard. The low son of a bitch bastard.
“She wasn’t physically hurt. I think it’s more to deal with her heart. The disappointment runs deep, and she didn’t even want to leave Suede.”
“But my baby,” her sperm donor sucked. You knew he sucked, but this is at an entirely different low than you were expecting. You know Scott drinks, and drank. But to be drunk for the few hours that he got her. And after months of being away. He chose then to subject her to drunken stupidity. And he was always such a sloppy mean drunk. “I hate him so much.”
“But our baby is okay. Let Ransom get her, I’ll put in her seat, and he can try and talk to her. He is her safe space because we’re too emotional. And…”
“Ransom buys her what she wants,” you laugh so weakly as you try and process everything. You knew something was wrong. “And maybe he can find out why she didn’t call. That’s not like Audrey.”
“Andy, you promise that not a hair on her head was hurt while she was there,” you ask as you pull your face off his chest. “I will…”
“Shh, no talking. Just know I had the same exact thoughts. Let’s go see our boy. There’s a baby monitor in Audrey’s room. Here,” you whisper a thanks to him as he pulls you away from the stairs. It isn’t the most ideal thing. But, it’ll do. You hope, pray, and beg that Ransom can find out exactly what happened. And so help you God if Scott drove in the car with her while drunk...
—
“Audi?” Audrey quickly looks out the window, leaving Ransom to only glance at her in the rear view mirror. She’d been fidgeting the moment she got in the car, but never said anything. “Audrey, you want to talk about what happened?”
“I would really like a dog,” Ransom glances back at her again and she’s looking directly at him. “I know mommy has two babies in her belly, but I would like a dog. A bigger one. One that can be my protector.”
“Do you feel you need protection?” Words are important. Kids say a lot even when they’re not saying the thing you think you’ll hear. Audrey mentioning a dog for protection says a lot.
“Suede isn’t allergic to dogs. I asked mommy again. I don’t want a mean dog, just one that loves me.”
“Audrey.”
“If you buy me a dog — I will talk,” of course she would mention something such as this, leaving Ransom unable to say no. She plays him more than Suede does. She knows just how wrapped he is.
“You want our date to be at the dog shelter?” Audrey smiles, but only briefly, and nods her head. “Audrey, you want to tell me what happened?”
“I don’t like him,” she answers, crossing her arms across her chest. “He’s mean to my mommy, and — Andy daddy. And he says mean things about Suede,” her brows furrow, showing so much more her age than her size. A little girl who has been through too much in too short of a time. “He was drinking from a square bottle. And Taylor and him started screaming at each other. She told him he was stupid, and he said that he never wanted…”
Audrey’s words stop abruptly, and her face scours up. “If I say it will you be mad?”
“No, baby, I won’t be mad at you for telling the truth.”
“He said he never wanted any fucking kids. He just wanted to make sure my mommy didn’t leave,” she wipes her cheeks off, while Ransom turns into a shopping center. Pulling the car over, and parking before he crawls in the back seat of the car, and letting her out of her seat. The tiny little girl crawls into his lap, wrapping her arms around him.
“What does that mean?”
“It means he doesn’t deserve you, and never deserved your mom.”
“He threw my iPad, and it’s broke, and I couldn’t call anyone,” her tears soak his neck, and he starts rocking her back and forth. Thinking of ways that he could end Scott, even if he has to hire someone. Prick of a man that wants to treat anyone ‘smaller’ than him like that. And his own daughter. Ransom would murder someone to protect your children.
“I hate him so much. He’s so mean. Don’t make me go back there ever again. I can’t. I don’t want to leave my brother, and what if Andy gets to feel the babies move first? I hate him so much.”
The need for her to have a protective dog makes so much sense. But it’s not even that, she needs someone to read her own moods. You have a fear that her anxiety is going to manifest into something stronger. Depression in children is far too common now. Her perfectionist nature already is starting to cause outbursts of frustration. And she’s five! With too much responsibility that her father bestowed upon her.
“Audrey, you know we all love you, princess. And your Andy daddy, mommy, and me, we are going to do everything in our power to make sure you are safe and loved, and with your mommy,” it is in everyone’s best interest that Audrey stay with you. Scott was the scum of the earth. Admitting that he didn’t want children, in front of his golden child…
The man had clearly spiraled after not getting his way. Even at work. His good fortune had run out. And either legally he would be kept from Audrey, or Ransom would have to deal with things his family’s way.
Audrey leans back, sniffling, but smiles up at Ransom. Appearing fine, and okay now, but he knows better. Audrey has a tendency to make sure others are okay, even at the expense of herself. “Can Miss Tatum help me pick out a dog?”
“Yes, princess. I think Miss Tatum would love to help look at the dogs. Are you hungry?” She shrugs, crawling out of his lap and into her seat. “We’ll get Tatum, and have us a small lunch, and head to the shelter, okay?”
“If I have a dog, does that mean I can’t go to — dad’s house?” She looks down at her lap, pulling on her straps, and buckling herself in. “I can’t leave the dog alone, and dad doesn’t like dogs.”
“Yeah, I think that’s possible,” it’s possible for Scott to have his balls ripped off his body.
“And you won’t tell mommy I said that word?”
“No, your secret is safe with me. Does he say that word a lot?”
“He says lots of words when he drinks out of the square bottle. He’s not nice. And I don’t like how mean he is to Suede and mommy. I think he hates daddy, too. He calls him — a, um…a goddamn prick.”
Scott keeps on ticking more and more reasons to hate him. No fear. He will be dealt with. And for Scott’s sake, he better hope the courts deal with him first. “Come on, let’s get Tatum, lunch, and a dog.”
“I want a girl. And she’s my dog, okay?”
“Yes, I think Suede is too little. And I think we need to go to the Apple Store,” Audrey smiles at Ransom as he makes his way to the front seat. “Now, I know that Suede has the mini, but he’s just so little. You’re really into drawing now?” She nods her head, and reaches over for the Madeleine doll she brought for the trip. Giving the little stuffed girl a hug. “I think we should get you something bigger, and a pencil. But this isn’t something for you to tease Suede with okay?”
“Uncle Ann?”
“Hmm?”
“I like that idea, but I don’t want something Suede can’t have. I’ll just take a mini, since I’m getting a dog,” the kindness this little girl has in her pinky is more than most have in the entire world. She is too soft, and deserved to stay that way.
“Okay, princess.”
“And maybe text daddy. He’ll let mommy know about the dog.”
“Good idea,” Andy could ease you into the idea. It isn’t a conversation you as a family haven’t had. You liked the idea of a dog. Your kids have so much space out here it just makes sense.
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#two good reasons#andy barber#andy barber x reader#andy barber x fem!reader#andy barber x female reader#andy barber x y/n#andy barber x you#andy barber smut#andy barber fanfic#andy barber fanfiction#andy barber fic#andy barber fics#chris evans#chris evans character#defending jacob
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☆ more random obey me headcanons !
characters: the demon brothers! <3
small note: i am back. and i will disappear once more after this..also i apologize for the VERYYY LATE upload. i am not dead and i wont die until om fandom comes back to life i tell ya 😤😤
cw: none! :p
☆ lucifer:
- occasionaly has thoughts of getting a german shepherd but cerberus would get EXTREMELY PISSED if he did. also another reason why he refuses to let satan keep cats in the house. cerberus will gobble them up in less than a millisecond.
- has a pretty high libido (as if it isn't already obvious in the game..) he really enjoys taking out his stress on you everytime he gets the chance. buckle up buttercup ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ
- one if his biggest secrets is keeping like a few albums of him and his brothers back when they still lived in the celestial realm. he keeps em hidden realll good
- sometimes asks levi or mammon to help him with his D.D.D
- "mammon, help me with this." "levi, why is my screen stuck like this?" "lucifer you paused the video-"
- he likes silk pajamas :3 he also can't STAND sweatpants for some reason.
- once a week, he dedicates atleast an hour or two grooming his own wings and his horns. there's a lot of occasions where he transforms in his demon form for parties and such.
- reads newspaper while taking a shit. guys dont argue with me on this its real.
- he has cold lips but his kisses are always very passionate with you!
- very well mannered everytime he's on the dining table and eating. y'all will never catch him spill a single food on the table or his clothes.
☆ mammon:
- eats with his hands sometimes when he's alone. and if someone ever finds out his excuse is always "so what? sometimes eating food with your hands is a better way to savor the taste." and i completely agree with him
- cleans his jewelry a lot. he wants them dazzling that people will do a double take when they see his mega awesome drip. like "haha yeah yall cant beat me on this baby" type shit
- cooks the BEST beef curry. the level of spice is perfect-o and beel always pesters him to make it.
- during family photos, he's always the one doing silly poses. he does hand stands, he has his ass out on display, he's ON THE FLOOR
- always man spreading in class. like you can literally see him chewing on his pen from across the room with his legs sprawled out
- you know that empty feeling you get after watching a movie? double that and give it to mammon. man takes it HARD especially if it was a sad movie that he watched. he'll feel empty for a gooooddd while
- always breaks his earphones, so when d.d.d airpods came out he got really happy and bought like 6 pairs (he ended up breaking all of them too)
- blasts music like crazy when he works out and lucifer absolutely HATES his music style and thinks it's unsanitary and inappropriate. like ok whatever you old fucking hag
- doesn't close the bathroom door after he uses it LIKE BITCH CLOSE THAT SHIT RN
- follows all of his fan accounts on devilgram ugh my boy <33
☆ leviathan:
- there's just like random times where he'll suddenly remember all of his past cringe phases. and it like appears on the most random times it's actually pissing him off
- always fantasized about creating character designs for simeon ever since he found out he was the creator of TSL
- he has a bad habit of HOLDING IN HIS PISS. yes he holds them in. he developed this habit ever since he got addicted to gaming. luckily for him he's a demon but boy if he was human he would've gotten kidney problems by now.
- levi would never ever admit it but he enjoyed getting spun around by mammon when they were still kids. like mammon grabs his arms then just spins him around and stuff
- sleeps with his headphones on and now he can't sleep without it. he's just like me jujujuju
- he really likes alex g :3
- sometimes he wishes he was a magical pop star girl performing for people on stage because they always look so happy when he watches them
- loves being the little spoon so much. sometimes it's awkward with him when he's the big spoon because he's either trembling or really stiff like a log
- he enjoys kissing your cheeks the most because he's convinced he'll melt if he tries kissing you on the lips
- has a hidden album on his phone of stolen shots of you doing the most random shit ever. eating, sleeping, showering..💀
☆ satan:
- even when it's freezing cold, his feet are always peeking out of his blanket. can't sleep without his bare feet hanging out.
- doesn't need reading glasses but insists on buying them because he thinks it fits the detective aesthetic. unfortunately he loses them a lot and no one knows why
- besides lucifer, satan is very sleek and neat when putting on neck ties
- had a phase where he absolutely despised coffee and tea because he found out lucifer enjoyed it. deep down he knew he enjoyed them too and it'd be one of the reasons for his constant rampages..
- started enjoying lofi music ever since levi introduced him to it.
- out of all the brothers, satan feels the most comfortable crying in front of mammon the most. (can i get some big brother mammon appreciation out here? 😔)
- he's the type to practice his lines in front of the mirror before asking you out on the date! he just wants everything to be perfect for you and yes sometimes he messes up but it's your fault for being too pretty
- worked as a librarian once as a part time job and lemme tell you..sales went high as fuck after that and the manager even BEGGED him to stay for longer. (which he did, as long as he got to have free books :p)
- tried the "which of the seven brothers are you?" quiz and got lucifer.
- is very skilled with the piano and even made a few pieces that reminded him of you <3
☆ asmodeus:
- really enjoys ear piercings and even got one himself!
- owns a clothing brand in the human world and even tried making you the co-owner. it's a really big success and he uses the money to buy you gifts
- can't go a day without kissing you atleast once! he feels like his lips would dry if doesn't get to even leave a peck on you
- does that back arch thing in his room when he's bored 👀
- bought so many makeup products once to the point lucifer banned makeup in HOL for like a month 💀 asmo held a grudge for a while because he was lowkey kinda conscious of his appearance when he'd go outside. especially when he's in front of you! ;((
- second most followed user on devilgram! (top one is diavolo lol)
- if he had to choose a favorite makeup brand from the human world it's either the ones with the cute packaging (ex: flower knows, too faced) or the high end brands like dior
- changes bed sheets like twice a week because it's either he can't stand the feeling anymore or found a new inspo on devilgram
- says he's not easily influenced on buying new things like mammon or levi but the moment he sees something go viral he's already purchasing 10 of them. (and posts it on his feed to gain those likes)
- crop dusts every now and then
☆ beelzebub:
- finds those gross ass thirst trappers who sexualizes food nasty asf and is a big donutdaddy hater
- wins awards from eating competitions a lot and always ALWAYS spoils you and belphie first
- always the viewer in situations where one of the brothers fight w eachother. mans always there for some reason so lucifer always approaches him first when smth happens lol
- sometimes he goes overboard with body sprays
- he likes hand made accessories/jewelry. belphie was the one who made his choker on his everyday outfit and cherishes it everyday
- he thinks tongue piercings are cool but never went out of his way to get one
- buys burger merch or any food merch in general lol
- he was never really the type to care about his own appearance and only did the bare minimum to make himself look presentable. but sometimes he does feel insecure when people get too intimidated by him, especially when it's you.
- "mc, you're not afraid of me right? i won't hurt you. i promise"
- majority of the time he's the one who fixes belphie's bed and cleans his side of the room so lucifer won't get mad at him
☆ belphegor:
- has no shame in stealing pillows from furniture shops and always gets away with it
- unintentionally says the most sassy remarks ever and stares at you when you call him out for it
- being the youngest, he doesn't really need to go shopping for his own necessities because one of the brothers already buys it for him before he can even step out of the house
- when you'd go back to the human world, he'd always gaze up at the stars and wonder how you're doing and if you're getting enough sleep
- always constipated like idk he just seems like the type to only shit once a week lmfao
- one time (or two..or three) he accidentally used a different toothbrush that belonged to one of the brothers because he was half asleep
- hates the feeling of jewelry on him because he thinks it's just in the way. especially hates earrings because it's a nuisance when he sleeps.
- HORRIBLE driver and can't drive for shit. crashed mammon's car once because he fell asleep. and his in defense was because traffic was so long smh
- he can't live without his cardigans. always wears long sleeved shirts unless it's summer season in the devildom and settles for loose shirts. he also has a habit of pulling his sleeves that it nearly covers his whole hand
- very calming singing voice. back when he was still in the celestial realm, a bunch of angel kids would approach him at night, telling him to sing lullabies for them to help them sleep <3
note: had to repost :P ALSO TY FOR 73 FOLLOWERS! hiphiphorey
#obey me#obey me shall we date#om! swd#obey me headcanons#leviathan obey me#obey me crack#om! leviathan#obey me lucifer#om! lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#beelzebub obey me#belphegor obey me#om! satan#om! belphegor#om! beelzebub#om! asmodeus#obey me nightbringer
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All righty, here we go, diving into more of the angsty love triangle!! *rubs hands together* 😈
However, it wasn't enough to block out the sounds that were coming from your bedroom or the subtle knocking of your headboard against the metal wall between his and your room that grew louder and louder every passing minute.
Oooh my God, poor Dean. 🫣 This is literally torture for him! lol
When you'd agreed to move to the bunker Dean had insisted you live in the bedroom next to his. It meant that if there was a problem in the middle of the night, Dean would be the first to hear you scream and the first to protect you.
I had a feeling this was why he insisted on her living in the room next to his, our big protective man, but now it's coming back to bite him in the ass. 💀
He remembered how soft you felt under him, how you clung to his body as if he was the only thing grounding you to earth, how natural it felt to be there protecting you, how you sighed when he pushed your hair back from your face, and how all the soft parts of you seemed to fit perfectly against all of the hardened muscles of him.
He'd lost so many things in his life and he knew that he couldn't lose you, not without losing a piece of himself.
Sobbbiiiiiingggg -- oh Dean. 😭😭
It made Dean feel like someone had ripped at his insides with a pickaxe seeing you hurt and listening to the whimper of pain that passed through your lips. He knew that he went too far when you broke his nose, but damnit, Dean just wanted you to be safe! And you never listened to what he told you because you were just so damn stubborn and always got on Dean's last nerve.
God Dean! You can only bury your emotions under assholery and anger for so long. He can hate the fact that she's a hunter and want more for her, but he has to accept that it's her choice, and he can support her and be honest with her rather than succumbing to his assholery. 🥲🥲
But of course, his "I'm not worthy" mentality crops up as well. 🙃 Makes you want to throttle him (if in more than one way lmao)!!
The thought that he was suffering so much while trying to find her when she was in another world is also heartbreakingly on-brand for him. He'd so be tearing through every piece of lore and resource to try and get her back. 😭
"That better be a way for use to get rid of the walking Trojan ad." Dean huffs, throwing himself into the chair across from his brother. Please let them be using protection. The last thing I want is to be stuck here to raise super baby. I had enough problems with Jack.
💀💀💀 Come on now, Dean, don't be petty. 🤣
"Just listen to me for a minute." Sam points at him with the pen. "She might be stubborn and sarcastic on the outside, but she's not callous or emotionless. She hides what she's feeling deep down, just like you do. And I think that she likes Ben because he doesn't hurt her and he makes her feel wanted." But I do want her.
TELL HIM, SAM. SHAKE HIM UNTIL HIS GREEN EYES ROLL INTO HIS HEAD -- make him see how he's acting!! lol
Your eyes trace the way his dark hair has fallen into his face and over the pillow, and you reach up to push some of the strands back from his face. But with it comes the ghost of how you wanted to do the same thing to Dean earlier, that your fingertips had itched to feel his brownish golden hair in your hands.
Gahhh pain. so very pain, even though it hurts so good. 😭😭😭
Dean kissed like he wanted you to understand and that he wished to understand himself. Dean's kiss was passionate, filled with enough emotion that it left you breathless. Ben was never afraid to take what he wanted but Dean, he was almost asking, trying to let you understand, and trying to listen to what you wanted.
"I-" He swallows. "I'm sorry. I didn't know how much I hurt you. All I wanted was for you to be safe and to talk to me the way you talk to Sam." His voice is quiet, just a soft rumble, but you can hear a tremor on the edge of his words. "I didn't mean to make you hate me."
Omggg finally!! Finally Dean's being honest about how he feels without being a dick about it. 😪
But he didn't, he never did. And in the kiss is something else, years of emotions the two of you pushed down, years of being frenemies of almost losing each other, years of ignoring what was developing between the two of you, and years of watching the other fall for the wrong person.
Ughhh such soul-rendering description, and the spice here is oh so delicious. ❤️🔥❤️🔥
But I have to point out that the reading is having a DAY loll. Two beefcakes in one night?? 😏
(Also, I'm afraid of how Ben is gonna take this. 😬)
"Don't do me any favors sweetheart, we had fun." Ben shrugs. "That's all this was."
Oh sure, pretend she meant nothing to you to spare your deep-down man feelings. 🙄
"Stupid, fucking piece of shit!" Ben growled at the computer monitor in front of him that had a bright red ERROR message splayed across it.
LMAOO Ben vs. Technology -- I think we all know who's winning. 🤣
And Ben secretly liking therapy just so he just has someone to vent to for an hour? Be still my heart, honestly. 😭
The version of you Ben knew from Dean's universe flashed through Ben's mind again. She was more confident and outgoing, but you looked a little shy, hiding back in the cardigan and using the iPad in your hands as a welcome distraction to looking Ben in the eyes and like a shield. He thought it was cute.
OMGGGGG I'M WEEAAAAK -- and he's already clocking IT girl's cuteness, I'm dead. 😂💞 The way he's already starting to like her better? I see what you did there. 😉
"To the ends of the Earth doll." Ben winks and watches the flush of your cheeks deepen to a crimson and hears the way your heart buckles and jumps when he does.
ahaha you charmer, you. 😂 A swoon-worthy line, even if we do know how sleazy this man can be lol. She really has no idea what she's getting into with this guy, but I love to imagine that with this nicely wrapped up ending! 💕💕
Part 3: Why Is It A Big Deal?
Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Dean Winchester xf!reader
POV: Dean POV, Reader POV, Soldier Boy/Ben POV
Summary: Dean's in for a rude awakening when he finds out exactly what you did when you got stranded in another universe.
Tropes: Fluff, Frenemies (Dean and the Reader), Enemies to Lovers, Awkward Situation, Multiverse Problems, ANGST, Crossover
Word Count: 12.4K (I PROMISE I DIDN'T MEAN TO)
Listen While You Read: Treat You Better By Shawn Mendes
Warnings: I'm gonna label this 18+ just to be sure. There is some swearing, Making Out, Sexual Innuendo, References to Sex, Jealousy, A little homophobia (it’s Soldier Boy), Feelings, Angst, Self Deprecating Thoughts? References to Past Sex (it happens quite a bit). Soldier Boy Being Soldier Boy (Everyone knows he’s a warning). Dean Winchester Being Dean Winchester.
Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is no use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!
Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person
A/N: It's finally here! I have loved the return to this universe more than words can describe. Each of the POV's are crazy in their own way. And again, don't forget to read the fic "Stranded" by @justagirlinafandomworld that inspired me to write this series in the first place! ENJOY!
Series Masterlist
Masterlist
Dean POV
Dean leaned back on his bed at the bunker and jammed the pillow further down around his ears over his headphones. He was listening to a mixtape that he had burned forever ago, chosen because it had the loudest drum solos blaring through his Walkman. However, it wasn't enough to block out the sounds that were coming from your bedroom or the subtle knocking of your headboard against the metal wall between his and your room that grew louder and louder every passing minute.
Dean had tried his best to get Sam on his side when he proposed the idea that Ben didn't have to come back to the bunker and instead should be sent be sent back to wherever the hell he came from right then and there, but Cas was still out doing whatever it was he was doing, which meant that Ben was going to stick around for a little longer.
And it meant that Ben was finally getting his wish… you.
Dean's teeth gritted together when he heard another moan over the sound of the cymbals and felt a white hot spike of something in the pit of his stomach burn through his body.
When you'd agreed to move to the bunker Dean had insisted you live in the bedroom next to his. It meant that if there was a problem in the middle of the night, Dean would be the first to hear you scream and the first to protect you. But other than the time you stubbed your toe and Dean kicked down the door when he heard you yell with his gun drawn, there hadn't been an emergent situation that required his help.
Right now he was regretting the decision to have you live next door wholeheartedly, because it meant that he was having a front row seat to everything Ben and you were doing in your bedroom.
Dean sighed, his eyes squeezed shut, as he tried not to imagine what was happening, but he kept having flashes skate across his mind. He didn't want to see what it looked like or sounded like to have Ben's name tumbling from your lips, all Dean wanted was to hear you say his name like that and to be the one making you fall apart beneath him.
Not some asshole from another universe.
The image of you laying under him back at the school came back to him in a wave, pushing away the revulsion momentarily. He remembered how soft you felt under him, how you clung to his body as if he was the only thing grounding you to earth, how natural it felt to be there protecting you, how you sighed when he pushed your hair back from your face, and how all the soft parts of you seemed to fit perfectly against all of the hardened muscles of him.
He hadn't even made love to you and you laying there on top of you felt more intimate than any experience he'd had in his life. Dean wanted to exist in that moment with you a little longer, to savor those last few seconds of you staring up at him as if he was the only person in the world.
The memory of Ben kissing you after followed. Dean remembered the way Ben's lips roughly took from you and the way he held on to your face and it snapped Dean out of it. It hurt him more that you let Ben kiss you after Dean had been the one to save you.
Fuck.
His teeth gritted hard together so tight that he heard them grind. He hated watching you with Ben, hated watching Ben do the one thing that Dean had wanted to do for years. And Dean also hated the way that Ben treated you, as if you were something to be possessed and showed off, as if you weren't smart or anything more than just beautiful.
Dean had known from the first moment he saw you in Ellen's bar years ago that you were the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen in his entire life. You were funny, kind, sarcastic, and had a hard edge that you'd developed after years of being a hunter, but there was something else, a softer side of you that you didn't let everyone see, something hidden beneath it all that you only allowed yourself to have whenever Sam was around, but never with Dean.
It made him hate his brother a little bit, seeing how effortlessly the two of you had developed a friendship, while Dean had to practically Heimlich you to talk to him.
Dean wanted to see that side of you so badly. He wanted you to smile at him the soft way you smiled at Sam, and wanted you to laugh at his jokes or tease him playfully about his hair or about what he was wearing that day the way he'd seen you with his brother.
He tried to find reasons to be in the same room as you, drifting to sit nearby while you read or watched a movie. You always seemed different then. Your body was relaxed, open, with just a hint of a smile curving on the edge of your lips that made Dean want to stare at you for the rest of his life.
He tried to make you laugh whenever he could and tried his best to impress you, but each time he did you'd only roll your eyes and make a sarcastic comment. You didn't like him, Dean knew that, but he wished you did.
Sure he was maybe a little harsh on you sometimes, but Dean didn't want anything to happen to you, he was trying to protect you, because he knew the moment he stopped caring so much would be the moment he lost you.
He'd lost so many things in his life and he knew that he couldn't lose you, not without losing a piece of himself.
He hadn't felt like this about anyone else ever, and he didn't know what to do with his feelings. Bottling them up only seemed to hurt him more, but whenever something happened on a hunt or you tried to split away from him and Sam, he panicked and said things that he shouldn't instead of the three little words that he'd been wanting to say to you for years.
That's what happened a few weeks ago on a hunt, when you went into a house alone and faced a poltergeist that threw you across the room and into a glass cabinet. Dean had stood there yelling at you trying to tell you how stupid it had been for you to go in alone, while biting back what he really wanted to say- that he couldn't lose you. He couldn't lose you because looking at you was like watching the fireflies along a misty road at dusk, each one lighting a path in the darkness that showed him the way.
Yes he was angry, but all Dean saw was the bloody ripped sleeve of your shirt, and the way your face had contorted in pain when Sam picked you up and helped you back to the car. It made Dean feel like someone had ripped at his insides with a pickaxe seeing you hurt and listening to the whimper of pain that passed through your lips. He knew that he went too far when you broke his nose, but damnit, Dean just wanted you to be safe! And you never listened to what he told you because you were just so damn stubborn and always got on Dean's last nerve.
The truth was he hated that this was your life, hated that you were a hunter and each day you put yourself in danger, because he believed you deserved more. You deserved a normal life with someone who loved you, maybe a few kids, a dog, and a life far from the world that Dean and you knew so well.
Of course the thought of you with anyone else made Dean want to put his fist through a wall. The problem was even though Dean wanted you, he believed that you deserved better than him. You deserved the white picket fence and suburbia, not a darkened bunker underground with a man who wasn't sure he still had anything good left.
It was the reason why he didn't want to tell you how he felt, that, and Dean believed you absolutely hated him and hated being around him in the first place. It's why he buried it beneath the surface for so long.
However, when he was looking at you Dean often forgot the things that happened to him. You made him want to keep getting back up to fight if not for anyone else, for you.
But then Ben had shown up.
When you'd gotten dragged to another universe, Dean had tried everything in his power to get you back. He'd screamed and prayed for Cas so loud and so many times he went hoarse, he'd looked through almost every book he knew of to find the spell to bring you back to no avail, tried several rituals that promised results but gave him nothing, looked at his computer screen for so long that it made him cross-eyed, and drank coffee so strong it made his heart race.
But all Dean knew was that you were somewhere else alone, where he couldn't get to you or protect you, and it made him sick. He hated the thought of you alone trying to fight your way to survival in a place like the Endverse. When Cas finally came five days later and helped Dean bring you back, Dean had been so happy to see you that he'd almost hugged you, but instead he'd made an off-brand joke and you'd run into Sam's arms for a hug that made his chest tight.
Dean thought that he was having a nightmare when he saw Ben, a man who looked so much like himself, stride into the motel room confidently and kiss you. Dean was waiting for you to push him away, to tell him to fuck off, but you didn't, you liked it. And judging by the sounds Dean was hearing through the wall he could see that you wanted Ben.
All it did was piss Dean off that another version of himself got to have you and he didn't. Not when he'd known you longer and you'd only known Ben for five days.
Five fucking days. She's known that asshole for five days and she likes him. She's known you for years and she can't even stand to be in the same room with you.
The thought made Dean's heart clench in his chest. He didn't understand what Ben had that he didn’t have, he was him after all as Dean kept saying over and over to you. But Dean knew that deep down the real thing he was telling you over and over was not that Ben was him, but rather was asking the question: "why not me?"
Does she really hate me that much that she can't stand the thought of being with me? That she can stand to be with someone who looks exactly like me, but can't stay in a room with me for more than ten seconds?
Dean gets out of bed, stomps out the door, and down the hallway towards the library to try and escape the sounds coming from your room. They vibrate down the hall after him, like a flock of seagulls, mocking him all the way and doing little to ease the anger and jealousy swirling beneath his skin.
Sam is sitting in a chair with a large volume in front of him and a piece of notebook paper scribbling furiously when Dean enters the library, but he doesn't appear surprised to see his brother.
"That better be a way for use to get rid of the walking Trojan ad." Dean huffs, throwing himself into the chair across from his brother.
Please let them be using protection. The last thing I want is to be stuck here to raise super baby. I had enough problems with Jack.
Sam gives him a sympathetic look, and pushes his long hair back behind his ears. "Sorry. I'm researching a case in Kentucky, but Cas said that he'd be back in a few hours-"
"He said that ages ago! I want that asshole gone now." Dean's hand tightens on the arm of the chair, so tight that his knuckles are white. He was happy that the library seemed to be far enough away from your room to escape the noise, but he knew it was happening, which didn’t help at all. "I don’t understand what she sees in that dick."
Sam hesitates for a moment, tapping his pen against the notebook paper.
"Just spit it out Sammy." Dean sighs.
"He might be an asshole to you, but not to her." He replies simply.
"What the fuck does that mean?"
"Well you're kinda…" Sam shrugs and leans back into his chair trying to find the words.
"I'm kinda what?"
"You’re kinda a dick to her." He finishes. "She's getting fed up with it. The other day she told me that she's been thinking about moving out and going back on her own. I've been trying to talk her out of it-"
Dean's blood ran cold. He hated the thought of you leaving again, it meant that he wouldn't know where you were or if you were alive and he wouldn't be able to make sure you were prepared for a hunt or at least be there to have your back if something went wrong- because let's face it, something always went wrong. "What? What the hell are you taking about?! Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because she hasn't made up her mind."
"But why?"
"Because ever since the first time we’ve been going on hunts with her, you’ve been rude and-"
Dean interrupts his brother with a shout. "What? Do you expect me to hold her fucking hand? We’ve seen experienced hunters get killed out there with one simple mistake! And she’s just some amateur-"
"Dean, she's not an amateur." Sam sighs as if he can't understand why Dean was being so difficult.
He was. Sam was used to it whenever the subject of you came up in front of Dean, but honestly his brother's stubborn attitude when it came to you was annoying him.
"She is!" Dean snaps back wishing that he had a beer.
"No, she’s not." Sam shakes his head. "She’s been doing this just as long as we have. You know who her mom was and you know that her mom was just as hard on her as our dad was on you-"
At the mention of their father, Dean can feel his jaw tighten, memories flashing across his mind that he wanted to forget. The cold feeling of disapproval begins to creep up his spine to his shoulders, but Dean shakes it off. "That doesn’t matter."
"I think it does."
"What does that mean?"
"Well, Dean you keep saying that he’s you, but I'm starting to think that she's you."
"You need to stop using all those hair products Sammy, they're messing with your head-" Dean scoffs.
"Just listen to me for a minute." Sam points at him with the pen. "She might be stubborn and sarcastic on the outside, but she's not callous or emotionless. She hides what she's feeling deep down, just like you do. And I think that she likes Ben because he doesn't hurt her and he makes her feel wanted."
But I do want her.
The thought rises before Dean could stop it and he wonders if you'd spent all these years thinking that he didn't want you around when it was all he thought about. Every decision he made was to try and protect you, to put you first, and the thought that you didn't see that hurt him.
"I'd never hurt her-" Dean's voice comes out a little softer and more broken than he meant it to, catching slightly on the words.
Sam shakes his head. "Not physically. But the two of you have been doing this for years and I think that she's sick of you treating her the way you do and then she met Ben. She met another version of you who appreciates her. I know that you’re a little jealous-"
"I am not jealous!" Dean says on instinct, but Sam knows the truth, he's always known the truth, and Dean knows it too.
Sam rolls his eyes at his brother. "You should talk to her. Take Ben out of it and talk to her the way you talk to other people."
"I talk to her like I talk to other people." Dean grumbles as he gets up out of his chair intent on going to the kitchen to get a beer or something stronger to take the edge off.
"No you don't. So go talk to her." Sam waves a hand in Dean's direction before his gaze drops back down to the book.
"She's kinda preoccupied." Dean mutters under his breath and the image of you and Ben tangled up in your bed makes him flinch.
Sam looks up at his brother again, sympathy flashing in his eyes. "Dean-"
"Just leave me alone Sammy."
And with that he turns and makes his way towards the kitchen, hoping that he won't be able to hear Ben and you, and wishing that you hadn't met Ben in the first place.
Reader POV
Ben mutters something in his sleep, rolling his body towards yours so close that his muscular right arm brushes against your bare shoulder. He was laying on his stomach, his face pressed into one of your many pillows, snoring softly, and taking up most of your bed.
It wasn't hard to. The full sized bed was hardly big enough for you, let alone two people, especially not someone as tall and broad as Ben. Which became more obvious when you noticed that Ben's feet were hanging off the end.
You sigh, laying on your back and staring up at the cracks in your ceiling, unable to fall asleep. You followed each one with your eyes, tracing the shapes they made like someone watching the clouds on a hill bathed in sunlight. You'd thought that after everything Ben and you did for the past two hours you'd be able to fall asleep as easily as he did, but you couldn't because your mind was awake and roaming everywhere it could.
It wasn't that you hadn't had a good time with Ben or hadn't wanted to have sex with him. Ben didn't force you into anything. You wanted to have sex with him. You had missed him and it had been a while for you, and you liked Ben. The problem was that now, after, there was an odd feeling stirring in the pit of your stomach, something that felt surprisingly like guilt.
I have nothing to be guilty about.
You chide yourself, hands curling and uncurling on the edge of the blanket the longer you stared up at the ceiling. But it was still there, bubbling up beneath the surface. Your mind kept slipping back into the memory of Dean and you in the broken auditorium.
Each time you closed your eyes you were back in Dean's arms, looking up at him while he pushed your hair out of your face and asked you if you were alright, his eyes filled with something that looked suspiciously like worry. He'd never acted gentle or caring like that before with you and you still felt odd from everything that happened.
Fuck. What is happening to me? I just spent the last two hours with Ben, I shouldn’t be thinking about anyone else but-
You sigh again and shut your eyes, but it just brings the image back to haunt you.
You hadn't had any thoughts like this about Dean, not ever, and you didn't know why now. You'd spent years thinking that he was a big jerk who hated you, but the Dean you saw earlier today was far from that.
In the past, Dean had your back a few times, but it hadn't been like earlier. He'd never held you close, covered you with his body as if he didn't care what happened to himself as long as you were safe, and he'd never brushed your hair away with such tenderness it made your heart flutter in your chest.
No. Dean has been a total dick from the moment I met him, he hates me, he-
The thought stutters to a stop when the hurt and jealousy in Dean's eyes when you kissed Ben comes flashing back through your mind.
Does he? Or did I just interpret that wrong? Maybe it was just the hatred he had towards Ben flaring but… why does he hate Ben? He has no reason to.
But despite everything that Dean had done to you over the years, you didn't hate him.
Even though he tap danced on your last nerve whenever he opened his mouth and often made you feel stupid you couldn't, not when you saw the way he cared so much for other people. Dean Winchester was selfless, he always put other people first and was willing to sacrifice himself if it meant someone else got to be happy and got to live.
You glance at the man lying in the bed next to you. Ben was handsome and strong. He possessed some of the qualities of Dean that you found attractive, but he treated you differently. It was what drew you to him when you got trapped in Ben's reality, not just that he looked like Dean, but that Ben joked with you, teased you, and he seemed to generally care about you.
Dean didn't act that way with you. At least, you'd never seen Dean act that way before today. Today was different than any other day and you wished that it hadn't been.
Ben mutters something else, and this time he leans more towards you, his arm coming up around your waist to hold you against his side. The warmth and weight of it was familiar, but it made the feeling of guilt grow larger in your stomach.
Why is this happening? I didn’t feel guilty the last time I had sex with him.
Your eyes trace the way his dark hair has fallen into his face and over the pillow, and you reach up to push some of the strands back from his face. But with it comes the ghost of how you wanted to do the same thing to Dean earlier, that your fingertips had itched to feel his brownish golden hair in your hands.
Before he'd drifted off Ben had asked you to come with him when Cas sent him back to where he was from, said that he wanted you there with him. You had an inkling that it was the first time that Ben had asked something so serious from a woman. But you weren't convinced that it was because Ben wanted to have a relationship, rather that he didn't want to be alone.
You'd be lying if you said you weren't considering it. Ben was kinder to you, gentle (in his own way), and he seemed to appreciate having you around. But there was something holding you back.
At first you thought it was Sam. He was your best friend and you didn't want to abandon him, but there was another feeling, an ache deep down that you didn't know the cause of. Other than Sam there really wasn't anything in this universe that would hold you back from going with Ben, but obviously there was, you just couldn't figure out what.
Sure Ben's reality was fucked up… yours was too. Demons and Angels duking it out for supremacy while other creatures hid under beds and in the dark to kill people or worse wasn’t ideal either. But you weren't sure what your life could look like there. There wasn't anything to hunt which meant you'd probably be dealing with supes instead and the thought wasn’t appealing. You weren't sure that you belonged in his world.
Maybe I should have asked him to stay with me?
The thought made you bite the inside of your cheek. You'd been thinking about moving out of the bunker. Yes it was the only permanent home you'd ever known, but Dean was getting on your nerves and you thought that maybe you should get a little bit of distance from him. Moving out and Ben staying meant that he could come with you on hunts, but you weren't sure that was the solution either. Ben was strong and brave, but you weren't sure that he had the precision or the delicate side you needed when approaching a hunt to do well here.
It was these thoughts that were keeping you awake and you decide to get some water to clear them.
You slowly begin to slip out from under the covers, gently moving Ben's arm off of you as slowly as you can as to not wake him before you make your way to your dresser to find a clean pair of panties and an oversized t-shirt. Ben sighs and shifts in the bed, the sheets pulling down just a little bit so you can admire the expanse of his freckled muscular back.
You'd seen Dean shirtless before once. He had come running out of his room with his gun drawn when you'd stubbed your toe on your bedside table and yelled. He hadn't put on a shirt before coming into your room, just aggressively kicked down the door wearing only a pair of hotdog pajama pants that you did mock him relentlessly for afterward. You didn't know why he'd looked so frantic when you yelled. It was just a toe after all. There wasn't anything for him to be worried about. Sam had showed up maybe ten minutes later rubbing the sleep from his eyes not worried at all.
But you'd remembered how Dean had looked shirtless. Sometimes the thought came flying into your mind at the most inopportune times, when Dean pissed you off and stuck his face so close to yours that you could feel his breath against your lips and the warmth of his skin through he air. The thought of him shirtless with his pajama pants hung so low on his hips that you could see every single hard defined muscle of his abdomen including the ones that made smart girls like you stupid.
You slipped on the clothes, but stop before you open the door to cast one more glance at Ben.
Although you knew that Ben and your relationship was more physical, there was a part of you that believed it could grow into something more if you went with him, something that you'd been wanting for a little while. Not just Ben specifically, but with someone.
Yes you were lonely, and Ben lessened the ache whenever he was around, but sometimes you wanted more than this and being a hunter didn’t help at all.
You never met anyone or tried to have a real relationship with anyone in a long time. The last permanent boyfriend you'd had wasn't a hunter, but someone you'd met in a bar after a hunt with Dean and Sam. It lasted Four months. Four months of you missing anniversaries, dates, and his birthday. He'd accused you of cheating on him with Sam and you'd found him in bed with his work partner when you'd tried to surprise him one weekend. You hadn't been surprised. Surprising was when the guy had tried to follow after you and both Dean and Sam had blocked his path and told him to "get lost." That was putting it nicely.
Sam had to hold Dean back from breaking the guy's arm when he shouted over the two of them at you that you "weren't worth the trouble." You didn’t understand why Dean was also just as pissed at the idea of the guy cheating on you as Sam.
You shake off the thought and tiptoe out of the room in the direction of the kitchen.
The bunker was silent, the metal floors cool beneath your bare feet as you walked down the desolate hallways. You glance at Dean's closed door for a moment as you pass and the feeling in the pit of your stomach tightens. A flash of the emotions on his face when you kissed Ben in the car and at the school flickers through your mind and you clench your jaw.
What the hell is wrong with me?
When you enter the kitchen you realize that you're not alone. Dean is leaning over the metal table his large hands braced on the top, his back to you, and his head bowed. A bottle of expensive whiskey sits on the counter in front of him next to a glass with the maple colored liquid inside. But the weird thing was that this wasn't the usual stuff Dean drank. This was the bottle that he had Sam hide from him for emergencies, the stuff that you'd only seen Dean drink when he was really upset and nothing else would cut it.
But what?
He turns when he hears you walk in.
You watch his eyes darken slightly as they skate over what you're wearing making your cheeks flush. You didn’t think he was still awake. If you had, you would have wore more than your favorite Metallica t-shirt that was worn soft from years of wear. Dean's gaze catches on the end of it where it hits mid-thigh, lingering a second too long, and makes something spark in your chest.
"Sorry. I was just getting some water." You clear your throat awkwardly.
"Romeo didn't get it for you?" Dean frowns as if the thought of Ben is an annoyance to him.
"No, he's asleep." You shake your head. "I thought you were asleep too-"
"Kinda hard to be sweetheart when the two of you are shooting a porno in the room next door to mine."
You feel your cheeks flush an even brighter pink. You didn't know that Ben and you were being that loud. The bed was a little squeaky, but you hadn't worried about the sound. The icky feeling in the pit of your stomach is back, the guilt rising in a wave the more you realize how much Dean heard.
Again? Why am I guilty? Ben and I had fun, he didn't force me to do anything. I wanted to have sex with him but-
"I'm sorry. I didn't know we were being that loud." You shake off the feeling and move around Dean to get a glass from one of the shelves.
"Guess he was making up for lost time huh? All those lonely months away from you fucking other women were hard I guess." Dean's words bite through the air and made your own temper flare up.
"He's not cheating on me. We weren't exclusive-"
"But you haven't been with anyone since you came back from his world."
Your hand freezes around the glass you reached for on the shelf. Why did he notice that? And why does he care?
The flicker of emotion in Dean's eyes when you kissed Ben in the auditorium comes roaring back, jealousy and hurt. It makes the guilt worse.
You let out a breath to calm the anger that wishes to bite back at Dean's comment. "Look, I know that you don't like him, but Ben isn't a bad person and even though it's not any of your business, we had fun."
You don't know why you felt the need to justify what you'd done with, but the words are out of your mouth before you can stop them. Standing here in front of Dean felt awkward, and it never had before. And it wasn't just because of what you were wearing, there was something else charging the air between the two of you. You were expecting a giant purple elephant to appear in the corner.
Dean chuckles, his eyes dark. "Did you now?"
"Yes." You reply, but you can't hold his gaze, not when he's looking at you like that.
Dean takes a long swig from the glass in front of him, his lips curling on the edges in a cruel smirk. This was the Dean you saw more often, the one that made you feel like a failure and a bother, but it was the first time that you longed to see the soft Dean who protected you from the fallen debris.
"I could hear just how much fun the two of you were having sweetheart." He continues. "But the man who isn’t a bad person toasted a woman that he slept with without batting an eye. Imagine what he'd do to you."
"A woman who was going to kill me." You say to defend Ben. "And he wouldn't hurt me."
Dean's eyes flick down to your thighs, his gaze hardening. "What do you call those?"
You glance down at the place where your shirt meets your thighs and notice the bruises. There were five on each leg and each was a perfect imprint of Ben's fingertips. They didn't hurt and you certainly hadn't felt or noticed them before Dean pointed them out.
But you knew that Ben would never hurt you. He wasn't like that.
Sure he killed that woman today, but she was crazy and she was trying to kill me and-
"He didn't it on purpose. He's stronger than us and sometimes-"
"Don't you dare make excuses for that asshole." Dean growls eyes flashing. "I don't care if he didn't do it on purpose, he still did it. He knows how strong he is and if he can't control himself he shouldn't be sleeping with you!"
"You're being ridiculous!" Ice clinks against the sides of your glass as you make your way back towards the sink.
"No, I'm not. And I want him gone!"
"Oh really?" You snark while placing the glass under the running water in the sink. "I had no idea. You've been so calm and collected since the moment Ben showed up."
Dean opens his mouth to respond, but instead huffs out a breath and pours himself another glass. The amber colored liquid splashes against the sides of the cup as Dean violently picks it up to take another drink.
An uncomfortable silence settles over the kitchen.
The water is cold, but you can't feel it when you take a sip, and you still can't quite look at Dean.
If he really is jealous, why can't he just come out and say it? Why is he being so stubborn and nitpicking someone else?
You sigh quietly to yourself and take another sip of water. The guilt was building again, prickling beneath your skin and bringing an uncomfortable sensation in the pit of your stomach the longer you stand there.
Why am I guilty? Dean being jealous has nothing to do with me and everything to do with him!
You think about going back to your room and being done with it, but you can't something is keeping you in that kitchen with Dean just as something is keeping him there with you.
"He-um-" You swallow. "He asked me to back with him to his universe."
Dean's entire body tenses as he explodes. "What? Are you fucking kidding me!?"
"No I-"
"Are you seriously considering that?" He demands looking at you like you're crazy.
"Yes. I am." You answer him honestly. There's something hidden beneath the surface that makes you want to tell Dean this. You're not sure if it's morbid curiosity or if it's something else, something that you can't quite place, but you want Dean to tell you what he thinks.
"But why?! You've known that asshole for five days!" Dean snaps back, but you can hear something in his voice, almost as if he's holding himself back from saying something else.
Dean please just say it! Don't keep it in!
"He's not an asshole, he's just rough around the edges." You shrug continuing to make excuses for Ben and thinking about the bruises on your thighs.
"Oh please." Dean rolls his eyes so far into the back of his head you wonder how they didn't get stuck on his brain. "If I took a piece of tree bark and ran it along his arm, he'd make it smooth."
"But-"
"Sam told me that you were unhappy here, but I didn't think you would throw your entire life away to be with that asshole!"
His words make you hesitate for a moment in surprise.
Sam told him that I was thinking about leaving? Why did he tell Dean that?
"What life Dean?" You shout, throwing your arms out to gesture to the entire room. "I don't have anything here! I can't keep a relationship because I let people down. I don't know who my dad is because he walked out on my mom as soon as he found out she was pregnant. My mom died four years ago. I go to bed every night wishing for something else to happen but-" Frustrated tears were burning in your eyes now.
You didn't want to cry in front of him, but the urge to was overpowering everything else, the emotions you tried to keep down for so long beginning to curl and reform from the dark recessive parts of your mind where you buried them the night you met Dean Winchester.
"You deserve better than that asshole!" Dean shouts over you taking another step in your direction.
"Oh and what do you think I deserve Dean? Are you saying that I deserve someone like you?
Dean grits his teeth in frustration, anger blazing behind his eyes. "No I-" He finds his words. “I can’t believe you slept with him.”
"Oh good! That dinosaur. Falling back on something familiar, what a typical Dean Winchester move!" You gesture wildly with your hands sloshing water onto the floor. "I don’t understand why you’re so upset about it. We’re both consenting adults. He didn’t force me to do anything.”
You put down the cup to avoid throwing the glass at him.
“I just don’t see why you did it!” He towers over you, his body pulled taunt with his own anger and frustration.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“You shouldn’t be sleeping around with people like him!”
Is he out of his MIND?!
"Why not?" You demand, fists curling into balls at your sides because you know that it's not safe to put them anywhere else. The anger that was flaring in your chest was starting to rival how you felt the last time that Dean and you had an argument and you broke his nose. And it had just finished healing a few days ago.
"Because he treats you like a piece of meat!" Dean shouts it so loud you can hear the frying pans hanging in the kitchen clink together
"Do you even hear yourself? I have seen you in bars picking up women after a hunt-"
You had. Countless times. The bravado Dean had when the three of you were still floating on the adrenaline that was pumping through from a hunt you'd seen first hand in the bars where Sam and you sat at a one of the high top tables watching him weave through the crowds with the sound of classic rock blaring over the crackly speakers. You watched Dean find another woman for the night, saw how he tried his best lines and got what he wanted while you sat in the motel room next to his trying to read beside a sleeping Sam and avoid the noises coming from next door.
"This is different!" He fumes.
"How is it different Dean? I want to know!"
Is it different because he's jealous? Or did I just imagine that?
You didn't think that you did.
Dean's face is bright red with the force of his anger and you're sure yours must be too given how it feels like it's on fire.
"He's always touching you or kissing you, putting his fucking hands on you!" Dean's jaw is clenched tight. "I've never heard him give you one compliment other than how you look-"
You laugh in his face, but it comes out crueler than you meant it to. "In contrast to how many compliments you give me? Because I don't think there's been any of those."
"I compliment you." He huffs back.
"Oh really?" You scoff. "When?"
Dean is quiet for a minute. His eyes drag over you again, but this time the sweep of them bring a heat vibrating against your skin and your throat gets tight. "I like your shirt."
"HA!" You shout triumphant holding up a finger. "That's looks based."
"You didn't let me finish!" He scrambles. "I like your shirt because I like that band too and you have okay taste in music."
"Oh wooowwww. I have "okay taste in music" let me just swoon right here." You wave your hand back and forth. "Fuck you. I have awesome taste in music!"
"That's not what I-"
"And who is it that should I be sleeping around with? You?!" You roll your eyes trying to take a step away from him, but he moves to intercept you.
His fists are clenched so tightly at his sides that his knuckles are white. “I didn’t say that! Don’t put words in my mouth.”
His green eyes darken as he stares down at you, the fluorescent lights above the two of you catching the familiar hard lines of his face. Even though Dean looked like Ben, he still looked like himself in his own way. The familiar crows feet that graced under his eyes, the subtle tilt of his head, the rough stubble that pebbled over his chin and cheeks, the soft freckles, and the green eyes that you always found on you. There was a small scar just barely visible on the bridge of his nose and a few flecked on the edges of his face that made him more handsome.
You'd noticed how handsome he was in the past, but never like this. You'd never looked at Dean as other than someone who annoyed you. And yes he was annoying you now, but there was something else that you could feel threatening to explode, something you buried deep down and refused to unearth.
“I’m not putting words in your mouth Dean, I’m trying to figure out why this is such a big deal to you!”
Why is it a big deal?
“It just is!"
"Why? Because you're jealous?!" You hadn't meant to say it, but Dean's body goes taunt again.
"I am not jealous. I just don’t want you sleeping with him!”
“I think you are! And you’re not my dad Dean. You don’t get to decide who I sleep with!” You'd had enough of hearing him yell at you, of hearing him bitch about something that wasn't any of his business.
Who does he think he is? We're not together.
“That’s not what this is about-“
“Then what is it about Dean?! Why are you so hung up on something that is none of your business?!”
"It is my business!"
"How? How is it your business? Because you think that Ben is you somehow?"
"He is me!" Dean roars again and you wished he would stop saying it, because it was snagging on something in your chest.
A lie that you told yourself when you first started sleeping with Ben. You knew it. That you liked Ben because he looked like Dean and he appreciated you, that he didn't make you feel stupid, or ugly or not worth his time.
"No, he's not!" You shout back shaking off the feelings for what you hope is the final time. “Why do you care so much about this?!”
“Because I-“ Dean shouts, eyes narrowed at you. “Because I just do!”
“WHY?” You poke your finger into his chest. “I don’t care who you think you are. You don’t get to tell me who I can and cannot sleep with!"
“I’m not trying to!”
“Yes you are! And I am so sick of your bullshit Winchester. This is none of your business. None of this is. It's my life! So why don't you just take your unneeded opinion and-"
The rest of your sentence evaporates into thin air as Dean grabs your shoulders so tight you're sure they're be bruises and pulls you in for a searing kiss.
Your body is frozen in shock, the warmth of his lips against yours holding a softness that you'd never known.
Everything about this kiss is different than the ones you'd share with Ben. You knew better than to compare them, but Ben kissed like he meant to devour you. He wasn't hesitant or afraid to take what he wanted when he kissed you, but Dean?
Dean kissed like he wanted you to understand and that he wished to understand himself. Dean's kiss was passionate, filled with enough emotion that it left you breathless. Ben was never afraid to take what he wanted but Dean, he was almost asking, trying to let you understand, and trying to listen to what you wanted.
But just as he deepens the kiss you push him away and slap him across the face. The sharp sound rings through the kitchen and for a moment all you can do is stare at him shocked while the red mark on his face forms.
"What the hell was that for?" Dean shouts, but the emotion in his eyes wasn't anger, it was hurt.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" You shout back still out of breath. The ghost of his lips presses against yours and the taste of the whiskey remains on the tip of your tongue.
"I thought that-" He clears his throat, eyes widening.
"Thought what?"
"That you wanted me to-"
"To what? Kiss me?" The frustration was building again, because yes it had felt good to kiss him, but you hated that he was doing this now. That after years of him hating you, now when you had the possibility of being happy Dean was making this harder for you.
"Well-"
"No." You poke your finger into his chest, and this time you can't hold back the tears. They slip from your eyes, hot against your skin, as you feel every emotion that you'd kept bottled up beginning to surge up in a wave. "You don't get to do this Dean. Not now. Not after years of you treating me like shit."
Dean sighs and reaches for you, but you pull back from him. Hurt flashes in his eyes again and you can feel your own in the center of your chest. "I didn't-"
"Yes, you did. Damn it Dean, I'm not some shiny toy the two of you can fight over."
"That's not what I'm doing!"
"Then why now?" You ask in a half sob.
Dean pauses. "What?"
"Why after years of you hating me-"
"I never hated you." Dean's voice is more of a whisper than anything else.
"Oh bullshit. Yes you do!" You raise your hand to scrub at your cheeks, the tears falling quicker now.
It was the first time that you'd allowed yourself to cry in front of him, and you were fighting the urge to run back to your room. Ben was still there and you didn't know how the hell you were going to explain to you why you were crying.
"Will you just shut your damn mouth for five seconds and let me talk!?" He snaps running his hand through his hair, frustrated.
"Don't you dare tell me to shut up."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm going to break your nose again if you do!"
"You need to because I'm trying to explain-"
"Explain what? Explain that you've completely lost your mind? Explain that all the years of you undermining me, making me feel like a burden, teasing me, yelling at me, making me feel like I was stupid, and driving me absolutely insane, has just been you trying to say that you love me?!"
You hadn't meant to shout that at him. Hadn't meant to say the word love, but now it was there hovering in the air between the two of you. Dean's eyes are locked with yours and you don't think he's taken a breath since you spoke.
Because love was a little word, only four letters, but why did it always seem so heavy? How could one word have the same weight as a loaded gun? How could something so small cause so much pain and so much hurt?
"Yes." Dean looks down at the ground, not able to meet your eyes. He looks ashamed and you can't find the words to fill the silence.
Because Dean Winchester was in love with you. The man who you'd always thought hated you, who you thought wished that you were never around, and who you thought believed you to be an annoyance.
Holy shit.
"I-" He swallows. "I'm sorry. I didn't know how much I hurt you. All I wanted was for you to be safe and to talk to me the way you talk to Sam." His voice is quiet, just a soft rumble, but you can hear a tremor on the edge of his words. "I didn't mean to make you hate me."
The words strike you right in the center of your chest and it shocks you so much that you stop crying. You'd seen different sides of Dean before. Seen him angry, happy, annoyed, frustrated, sad… but Dean Winchester had never looked broken around you, not like this, and certainly not over you. Whenever something went wrong Dean would isolate himself from you in his room with a bottle of something to numb the pain. It made you feel like someone was gutting out your insides with a pitchfork.
The silence grows between the two of you again, and his head is still bowed and looking down at the floor in shame.
You exhale softly, controlled by something that you're not sure, and reach out towards Dean's face.
He flinches back from you, eyes rimmed red, looking at you suspiciously as if he believes you're going to break his nose. In hindsight, you supposed it was a reasonable fear to have since you'd done it in the past.
"What are you doing?" He asks, voice cracking. Dean's green eyes have dimmed, looking more like an aged jade pot that's sat outside in the sun for too long.
"Please shut up." You sniffle, the end of your mouth twitching into a smile, before you place your hands on the sides of Dean's face and pull him down to you.
The kiss is quick, only a brush of your lips against his to give yourself a taste and when it's done you pull back letting your hands fall to your sides. You're not sure why you did that. Maybe it's because Dean admitted to loving you and he looks like a lost puppy, but-
Dean steps forward into the space, his hands reaching towards your face, and you flinch.
“What are you-“
“Please shut up.” Dean murmurs, echoing the words you'd whispered to him moments ago.
His hands are rough and warm against your cheeks. Worn from years of carrying a gun in his hand and hard work he never shied away from. But they’re nothing but gentle against your skin as he pulls your face to his.
You could be standing on the surface of the sun and not feel as hot as you do now. A volcano could erupt and bathe you in lava and you would just scoff at it like it was a normal day, because kissing Dean feels infinite. It's all consuming. The scrub of his five o'clock shadow against your cheeks, the slide of his hands down your arms that bring goosebumps in their wake, the smell of his shampoo that you always catch when you walk into the bathroom, the nudge of his nose into your cheek, and the soft supple welcome of his lips that draw the breath from your lungs all take you somewhere otherworldly.
You couldn't stop. It was a compulsion, like magnets, like it was something you wanted to do for so long but buried it deep down to avoid the inevitable. Fueled by the belief that Dean would push you away, because Dean Winchester hated you.
But he didn't, he never did. And in the kiss is something else, years of emotions the two of you pushed down, years of being frenemies of almost losing each other, years of ignoring what was developing between the two of you, and years of watching the other fall for the wrong person.
Dean moans softly into your mouth and picks you up, his muscular arms fitting under your legs to place you on the counter, not pulling away at all and stepping into the space between them to fit himself closer to you. Your hands come to the back of his head, tangling in the short strands at the nape of his neck, shuffling your nails through his hair in a way that makes Dean shudder and pull you tighter to his chest.
Dean pulls back from you out of breath, but rests his forehead against yours, as if any further is too far from you and he doesn't wish to ever let you go.
"I don't hate you Dean." You whisper before he can say anything. "I can't. And I was only with Ben because I thought that this could never happen because you hated me-"
Dean's lips fall against yours taking your next words with it. "I don't hate you. I never did."
"Then why?"
He sighs. "I hated that you were a hunter, that this was your life, that you'd been doing this for so long with no one helping you."
"I'm okay."
"I know that, but I-" Dean hesitates. "I shouldn't have done what I did, but I didn't think that you'd want this-"
"This?"
"Me." Dean closes his eyes leaning further against you, almost as if he can’t hold himself up.
"Why?" Your grip on the back of his neck tightens.
"Because I'm-" He tries to find the word. "I'm not perfect. I'm a jealous asshole. I've done terrible things, made you cry.” He sighs. “You deserve better."
You kiss him softly. "There is no one better. I'm not looking for perfect, I'm looking for human. There's nothing wrong with making a mistake and being imperfect. The imperfections are what make you, you." Your fingers curl into the hair at the nape of his neck. "Dean, you're not a bad person. You are the most selfless man I have ever met. And maybe you've messed up a few times, but I have too. Do you think I'm a bad person for the things I've done?"
There was a list of them that seemed to grow longer each day and it was difficult not to dwell on the things of the past. But standing here with Dean, watching the weight settle on his shoulders, while he told you that he didn't think he was enough for you made you throw it all away.
"No.”
“Do you think that I’m not deserving of love?”
“No. But-"
You shush him. "Then don’t talk that way about the man I love."
Dean's eyes widen, but you watch the end of his lips twitch into a smile. "You love me?"
"Yeah." You whisper. "I think I always have, but I was afraid because you were-"
His mouth falls over yours so fast you don’t have time to finish the thought. "I love you too."
Your heart flutters in your chest with his words.
"Kinda hard not to." His thumbs stroke along your hip bone over the soft t-shirt sending electricity dancing along your spine.
You smirk. "You're right. I am pretty great."
"I think the word you're looking for is high maintenance." Dean smirks back at you.
"Aww… That means I'm out of your league and you're lucky to have me in your life." You giggle with a smile.
"I am." He murmurs, nudging his nose forward into yours moving in for another kiss.
Someone clears their throat from the other side of the room drawing your eye. Ben is leaning against the doorway dressed in his suit, watching where you're wrapped up in Dean's arms.
Any warm feelings you were having standing there with Dean immediately evaporate and the guilt comes roaring back. You'd forgotten that Ben was still here and you felt bad for him. You didn't want him to think that you used him.
"Ben I-" You begin to stutter, but he only shakes his head at you.
"You don't gotta explain anything doll, I know what this was." Ben smirks, but you see something flicker in his gaze for just a second before its gone. "And I'm man enough to admit when I'm beat. Even if I don't like it."
"But-" You try to say again.
Oh this is so awkward.
"Don't do me any favors sweetheart, we had fun." Ben shrugs. "That's all this was."
Cas walks into the room with Sam at his heels, who looks much too smug when he spies where Dean has you on the counter. You push Dean back and stand up, while Dean shoots daggers with his gaze leveled at Sam.
Sam isn't phased, but chooses not to say anything.
Ben rolls himself off the doorway and walks confidently to where Dean and you are standing, extending his hand towards Dean. "You take care of her." Ben's eyes flick to you for a second before focusing more on Dean. "She's special."
The hand of guilt on your throat tightens just a little more, because somewhere you wondered if Ben really was as aloof as he seemed or if he had started to care about you a little more than he let on.
"I will." Dean's smile is forced, and you see him squeeze Ben's hand a little tighter as he does. It only makes Ben smirk wider.
Cas begins to write the symbol on the floor taking care with each intricate detail to open the portal, but you stop him at the last minute.
"Wait." You take a step forward and hug Ben tightly. "Thank you."
"You're thanking me for fucking you?" Ben snorts throwing a smug look in Dean's direction that makes Dean bristle. "Guess I am a gift."
"Shut up." Your cheeks blaze bright red and you hear Dean growl something under his breath. "No, just thank you. For being here."
Ben hesitates. He raises his hand to your cheek, fingers tracing along your skin before he brushes away some of your hair. It was a gentle gesture from him, one that you weren't accustomed to. The emotion in his eyes shifts to something else, but he hides it with a smirk. "You're welcome sweetheart."
"Maybe you'll meet the me from your reality." You say, because you're not sure what else you can say, not when Ben is looking at you like that.
The entire situation was again reaching soap opera proportions and there was only so much you could take before you drove your car off a cliff.
The truth was, you did like Ben. You thought he was attractive, bold, strong, but there was always something a little gentle that lurked under the surface he never let anyone else see.
But you loved Dean. He understood what it was like to be a hunter, understood what it was like to not be able to live up to someone's expectations, and he loved you. You couldn't see a life with Ben, but you could see one with Dean. Ben didn't belong in your world and you didn't belong in his.
Ben's smirk twitches. "Maybe. But she won't be the same as you doll."
Dean clears his throat and steps forward to pull you back into his chest possessively. "I think your ride's leaving." You don't have to look up into his face to know he's frowning.
Ben chuckles. "You know what kid? You're alright." His eyes flick back to yours. "You give me a call if you get bored with him."
"She won't." Dean snaps. “And don’t call me kid.”
Ben only laughs at him and steps closer to Cas as he begins to finish the ritual and when the portal finally opens, Ben goes through without looking back.
And you don’t feel guilty anymore, because you knew that Ben understood.
"Finally." Dean breathes a sigh of relief that makes you snort, dropping his head to your shoulder. It was so casual that you had to remind yourself that Dean loved you and you loved him.
Sam clears his throat. "Hey Cas will you help me with something in the library-"
"What do you have to do in the library?" Cas frowns at him confused.
"Just something come on-"
"But why-"
"CAS!" Sam shouts casting an obvious look in the direction of where Dean and you are standing.
Cas looks at the two of you. "Are they coming with us to the library?"
Sam huffs out a frustrated breath and grabs Cas by the back of his trench coat to drag him out of the kitchen so Dean and you can have a few moments alone.
You snort at the confused look on Cas's face when Sam drags him out, before you turn your body in his arms to look up into Dean's handsome face. "Do you have any idea how ridiculous it is to be jealous of yourself?"
"I thought he wasn't me?" Dean smirks, his eyebrow arching with his tease. His fingers are resting resolutely on your hips, thumbs softly trailing in circles.
"He is a little bit." You admit defeated. "But don't look so smug Winchester."
"I think I'm allowed to be a little bit." His smirk grows and he leans his face down to yours. Instead of feeling angry at the appearance of his smirk it only makes you smile.
Standing here in the aftermath made you see Dean in a different light, made your heart buckle and jump in your chest the longer you stood there in the kitchen basking in the warmth that began to bloom in your chest.
"Maybe…" You gently touch the front of his buffalo print flannel, smoothing the fabric beneath your fingertips. It looked good on him, very little looked bad on Dean.
"Do you regret staying with me?" He mutters.
"What?" You glance back up to see his face and notice that he's not smiling, he's frowning at you, and his eyes aren't as bright.
Dean clears his throat. "Well you seemed like you were really going to miss him and-"
He doesn't get to finish his sentence. You throw your arms around his neck and pull him back down to you, putting you everything you have into the kiss, hoping that Dean can feel how you have no regrets staying with him, that all you want is him.
"Dean Winchester." You breathe, moving your hands to cup his cheeks so he can't look away from you. "I do not regret staying with you, because I love you." You pull him as close to you as you can, his warm hands splayed over your back. "This is where I belong." You kiss him on the tip of his nose. "And this is where you belong. With me."
Dean's eyes warm the longer you hold his gaze. "I'm starting to believe you."
"Anything that I can do to convince you?"
"I can think of a few things…"
Ben/Soldier Boy POV
"Stupid, fucking piece of shit!" Ben growled at the computer monitor in front of him that had a bright red ERROR message splayed across it.
It had been two days since he'd left your reality, and he was trying his best to shove away the disappointment at the fact that you hadn't decided to come back with him. It wasn't that Ben wanted more than what the two of you had, it was that he liked having someone to talk to or try to talk to, and you were a good listener.
He didn’t like opening up to people, but there was something about you. He could trust you and Ben hadn't found anyone he could trust since he got back from Russia.
Ben also wasn't about to admit that he was lonely, he had plenty of women who were eager to warm his bed, but there was something about you that always made him feel different. He wasn't sure what that was exactly.
He'd also be lying if he said that he had wanted to explore it a little more if you'd come with him to his reality. The thought of you staying with him for an extended period of time in his apartment hadn't been unwelcome. Ben had never allowed other women to stay more than a day, but you… Ben would have let you stay as long as you wanted to.
Fuck.
He knew that he wasn't in love with you, but Ben knew he liked having you around. He liked being friends with you and he liked fucking you.
And yes he was disappointed that you had chosen Dean instead of him, but at the same time Ben didn't blame you. You had a history with Dean and when you'd been forced into Ben's reality, you'd talked to him a lot about Dean. Ben knew that you liked Dean more than you cared to admit.
But there was still an unwelcome feeling in the pit of his stomach that Ben wasn't accustomed to.
Ben huffed out a breath to push away the thoughts, while looking at what was left of the keyboard on his desk. The keys were scattered across the wooden top like bits of confetti, broken easily underneath his large fingertips when he'd tried to write an email
When he'd come back from Russia, Ben had taken a job working for the Department of Supe Affairs, but he was "grounded" due to the "anger issues" that he swore he didn't have, and because he didn't listen to Butcher whenever he gave him an order.
I don't need to follow orders. I'm Soldier Boy! I should be giving the orders!
Basically it meant that he was stuck on a desk indefinitely until Annie January, the new department head, released him. She'd also ordered that Ben go to company mandated therapy sessions once a week. He'd refused to go, but after Annie threatened him with termination of his contract, which meant that Ben would have gone back to being someone who "looked like someone who used to be famous," he'd gone to therapy.
And he refuses to admit this to anyone… but he liked it. Someone who was paid to listen to him bitch for a whole hour about whatever pissed him off and actually kept their trap shut was just what he needed.
Sometimes it reminded him of when he would talk to you, but there were still things that he refused to tell anyone and some of those things he had told you.
Ben ran his hand through his hair frustrated at his predicament. He would have liked to go into the field and take out some of his frustration on another supe, but Annie refused to give.
Ben didn't like listening to women, but even he had to admit Annie had a set of brass balls and he respected her for it. She didn’t take shit from anyone and especially didn't listen to Ben's bitching over why he should be in the field instead of being chained to a desk.
"Oi you all right mate?" Butcher calls and Ben can hear the shit eating grin without looking up from his computer screen.
The error message was still displayed in bright red letters, mocking him.
Ben knows that Butcher doesn't give a shit, and is probably about to start teasing him about his inability to adapt to modern day technology.
It wouldn't be the first time.
"Don't you have something better to do? Like fucking that little bitch that Annie is ploughing?" Ben spits back, clicking on the mouse but all it does is bring up another error message in another language.
"Oh mon ami, that doesn't look good." Frenchie walks by to stare at the computer screen that has now gone slightly fuzzy.
"I don’t think that's going to fix it mate." Butcher laughs. " But I called IT."
"I don’t need any of those four-eyed fucks helping me!" Ben snaps turning to narrow his eyes at Butcher.
He's holding a white cup of tea, wearing his usual long trench coat and Hawaiian shirt, with the shit eating grin that Ben knew Butcher was going to have when he looked up.
The last thing Ben needed was some nerd telling him everything that he did wrong. He was already on a first name basis with the director of the IT department, who was a little weasel of a man and who no longer picked up the phone when Ben called to yell at him.
"I think you're gonna want to listen to this particular four eyed fuck. She's new." Butcher gloats. "But don’t say I never did anything for you Soldier Boy."
"What the fuck does that mean?" Ben shouts at Butcher's back, but he's already gone.
Ben turns back to the error message that has begun to flash an even brighter red and now has a countdown.
"Fuck, fuck fuck-" Ben growled and to remedy the situation he puts his fist through the computer screen. It makes a high pitched electrical popping sound, showering his desk in sparks, while the overhead lights flicker, before the screen goes completely black.
Ben was not stupid, but he was a little slow when it came to modern day technology. He was doing better than he had initially, but it was taking him a longer time to understand using his desktop computer at work than his cell phone.
"Hi, I'm from IT. Mr. Butcher called and said that you might need a little help." The voice was small and tentative, coming from somewhere on Ben's left.
"I don't need any help. Especially not from a fucking four-" Ben started to growl, but then he looked up and the words died in his throat.
Because the person standing next to his desk was you.
This version of you looked different. Ben was used to seeing someone in old band t-shirts, worn blue jeans, and flannel shirts, someone who carried themselves confidently and had a hardness surrounding their outer exterior that simply said "don't fuck with me."
But this version of you was softer and a little gentle. Your hair was longer and pushed back from your face by a simple black headband, you were wearing dark framed glasses, an oversized cardigan sweater that covered a simple pair of blue jeans, a striped blouse, and a pair of dark blue converse. The converse made Ben smile. He hadn't seen anyone wearing Chuck Taylors in a little while and it was a welcome sight, something from the past that he actually recognized.
The version of you Ben knew from Dean's universe flashed through Ben's mind again. She was more confident and outgoing, but you looked a little shy, hiding back in the cardigan and using the iPad in your hands as a welcome distraction to looking Ben in the eyes and like a shield.
He thought it was cute.
As much as Ben liked the version of you he knew who didn't shy away from anything, Ben found himself smiling at this one. You were definitely more soft spoken and a little less confident, but Ben could see a sweetness and sincerity in your eyes that he hadn't come across since he came back to the US.
It was the thing that always made him trust the other version of you, the part of him that made him want to tell the other version of you things that he hadn't told other people.
"I'm sorry." You say, even though you have nothing to be sorry about. "I-"
"No. I'm sorry." Ben clears his throat awkwardly and for the first time in a long time he feels nervous. He wasn't sure why that was, not to mention he never apologized to anyone, ever, but he didn't want to scare you away.
"It's okay." You give him a soft smile. "Computers can be frustrating, but sometimes it’s better not to put your fist through the screen."
Ben chuckles. "Probably not my best work."
You shake your head, a wider smile on your face, the motion of it sending the smell of your perfume over him, something floral and a little old fashioned. You look at the remnants of the computer and bite the inside of your cheek deep in thought.
Ben found himself tracing the furrow of your brows and the scrunch of your nose. You were beautiful in every reality to him.
"Well, Mr. Soldier Boy I don't think-"
"Please call me Ben." He interrupts.
Ben wondered if you were this shy all the time and if you'd be just as shy if he took you to bed. He wanted to find out.
Ben had slept with many women in his lifetime and he was usually drawn to women who were more confident and outgoing, sure of themselves, but there was something about your shy attitude that Ben found attractive.
"Ben." You say it in the soft voice of yours, cheeks flushed a little bit as if you're embarrassed to say it. "I don't think that there's anything I can do for this." Your hand waves over the computer. "But I can go talk to my boss and tell him you need another one."
"I'll go with you." Ben stood up.
He didn’t want to let you out of his sight, not when a part of him worried that you weren’t really there or you would evaporate into nothing before his very eyes.
"Oh, it's okay. You don't have to-" You stammer, shaking your head, and not quite looking at him as if making eye contact was a little harder for you.
"I want to." Ben smiles at you. He hears your heart beat quicken and can hear the small intake of breath you have when he smiles. "He's an asshole and I don't want him to chew you out for something I did." Ben explains.
It was partly true. The guy was an asshole. Not to mention, Butcher had said it was your first day and Ben wasn’t going to stand by and have the head of the IT department screaming at you when you had done nothing wrong.
"Oh." You clear your throat, cheeks blushing that cute pink color that makes Ben smile wider. "Well if you'll just follow me."
He hadn’t met someone like you in a long time. And even though he liked the other version of you, Ben was starting to like this one more.
"To the ends of the Earth doll." Ben winks and watches the flush of your cheeks deepen to a crimson and hears the way your heart buckles and jumps when he does.
And the longer he stands there watching you blush, Ben begins to feel an odd feeling flicker in the pit of his stomach racing up into his chest that he’d never felt before and for the first time in a long time Ben was curious to see where it could lead.
A/N: Alright we made it to the end and everyone got a happy ending! Thank you again everyone for all the love and support while I was writing this mini-series 💗
Reveal of the Poll:
🥫: Meeting the reader from Ben's Universe in a grocery store.
💻: Meeting the reader from Ben's Universe in the IT department.
Personally I liked the IT more, and the problem is now I really like the shy reader with Ben. They are so cute and now I'm hyperfixated on Ben with a shy reader so we'll see where that goes 🤣
Thank you so much for reading! As always likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated, but are not required. I love hearing what y'all think!
Taglist For It's Not A Big Deal:
@roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @livya99 @zepskies
@winchesterwild78 @ladykitana90 @spnfamily-j2 @whyyouegg
@suckitands33 @pizzagirlxnsfwx @s0uz4s @schinug @just-levyy
@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @minas-fantasies @ladysparkles78
@mochminnie @peachhiz
@impala67stellawinchester @nancymcl @lunaleah @lightdancingwords @kamisobsessed
@justwhisperingfantasies @lunaleah @kamisobsessed @kmc1989 @djudy99
@chriszgirl92
@toxicfataldestiny @im-bili @anniebannanie0315 @jays-bonnie-on-the-side @schinug
@shara-ne @gaida-511 @xxmusic13luverxx @bakugotypecrashout @n-o-p-e-never
@thoughtfullyfurryangel @youroldfashioned
@marvelgeeka @myceliumsunshine @hobby27
@funkenniffler
#why is it a big deal?#supernatural#spn#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x you#dean winchester x female reader#soldier boy x female reader#soldier boy x you#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy#dean winchester#jensen ackles#sam winchester#dean x you#dean x reader#supernatural fanfiction#It's Not A Big Deal#lovely mutuals#zepskies reads
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Rejection: Sitri
Someone just fueled me with breakup or rejection angst, so. Here is ONE drabble. I'll probably do more of these soon.
"W-... what?", Sitri muttered as he looked as if he had seen a ghost. His arms tried to reach towards you, but couldn't reach you.
"Did?... Did I do something wrong, Solom-... Mc...?", he asked as he didn't know how to feel.
Were you leaving him again?... Why? What did he do? Or did he do too little? He was sure you would love to stay with him atleast. So, why are you telling him that you've fallen in love with someone from Tartaros? Was he not strong enough? Was he not rich enough?
He kept questioning what he did wrong.
Did he confess too late? He questioned him yet again.
He felt jealousy. Jealousy to whoever was able to romance you. To whoever was able to take you away. He felt anger at himself for being late. For being stubborn and thinking you'll fall for him eventually. Maybe he did have to try harder.
"Sitri?", you checked up on him as he stood there having a crisis for multiple moments. The flowers he brought snapping in his grip.
He nodded. As if he wanted to show you that he could hear you. Tears were pooling at his eyes.
"... Was it me? Was i too late? Or did I make a mistake?", Sitri asked.
You shook your head. Trying to reassure him in some way you replied: "you are charming Sitri, but I can't lie to you. You did nothing wrong, but we aren't meant for each other i feel..."
Sitri brought his hand up to his face. Wiping away the tears that threatened to spill.
"... I... I see... but please... accept atleast the flowers...", he muttered the last part and handed them to you as if he couldn't hold or look at them anymore.
"I wish you well...", he said as he tried to regain his composure. His eyes, that were somewhat red, looking at you as he tried to smile to reassure you instead.
#whb#what in hell is bad#what in “hell” is bad?#whb thoughts#whb sitri#whb prettybusy#prettybusy what in “hell” is bad?#whb angst
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Konfessions
I hate you
I hate you so so so so much.
Your actions make my very skin crawl, your cruel words are my nightmares every night. You make me sick just thinking about you.
I hate what you did,
I hate what you did to them.
You hurt those four, you killed two of them and those you left alive will never be the same.
You took away their pillars of safety, and now they are scrambling for an anchor to ground themselves with.
I hate hate hate how you acted. You acted like you didn’t even care! You didn’t care about the lives you had ruined!
So I hate you. I hate you with either fiber of my being, every bone in my body, every part of me hates you.
But I don’t hate you, do I? I love you. I love you so much that it hurts. It hurts that I love you. I hate the fact I love you because I should hate you. Because my brain tells me that I should hate you but my heart screams and scrambles for an explanation, reason, excuse, anything to justify your actions. To justify loving you.
You hurt so many people for something so so childish and stupid! You killed two people. You mutilated his body just to mess with and hurt his friend so so so much when he saw his best friend missing a head.
And you did that just for some convulsed plot to kill your ‘rival’! You killed her right in front of him. You drove him to stab you! You practically tortured him just to get at her. All for the sake of your stupid delusions!
Loving you feels like a sin. A horrible horrible horrible action. You hurt so many people. So many people I see everyday and talk to and I feel so wrong because I love you and they don’t and I’m in the wrong for loving you still!
….i wish i could just hate you….
….Maybe I don’t love you for you.
Maybe I love the idea of you. The you I thought I knew. The you that you showed to me to keep me on your side. The you that was a mask, just like the one you always wore, hiding your disgusting truth underneath it.
I hate the True you. The true you you showed everyone except me until the end. The true you who would mutilate a corpse to mess with others. Cut off someone’s head and tongues and disembowel him and oh god I’m about to throw up just remembering it.
I love your mask, but hate the real you. The you under your mask. The you that is bloodied underneath.
I don’t know if we’re going to be
Foxes our next lives.
You have a lot of sin to pay for after all.
Maybe I’ll join you down there.
For the sin of loving someone so terrible.
#tetro pink#tetro danganronpa#tetro danganronpa pink#tetro danganronpa spoilers#danganronpa tetro#watari nishino#okazaki hanano#wada masanari#tsuno manami#hasegawa ken#kamimura kazutoshi#character study#Sent this to my friends and family to show of my writing.#Forgot that it started with ‘I hate you’
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MDNI 🔞
Main Masterlist here
Finding Masterlist here
Summary: After a failed engagement, you move back home and reconnect with your friends. Maybe, just maybe you can find love with someone you never expected.
Pairing: Yoongi x F. Reader
Warnings: Explicit Sex, Swearing, Cheating (Not Yoongi), Fighting, Protected/Unprotected Sex, Toxic Past Relationship,
Genre: Enemies(?) to Lovers, Neighbors to Lovers, Small Town romance. Hurt-Comfort, Slight Angst, Romance
A/N: Okay, I was able to separate my original chapter 9. I'm pretty impressed by what I pulled out at the last minute. However, I have no clue about next week. Wish me luck.
The music was loud, and you lost your red cape hours ago after you took it off after you started to feel overheated. Your red skirt swayed and swished around your thighs as you moved around Jimin's place, looking for your friends. His small place was quite packed with people that you didn't know, and honestly, you didn’t want to get to know them. You were sure they were probably nice, but after your last attempt to make new friends left a bad taste in your mouth, you just avoided new people like the plague. Squeezing yourself through the throngs of people, you smile in relief when you spot Joon and Hobi talking in the kitchen.
“Where's Yoongi?” You shout over the music to Hobi and Joon as you tug the top of your dress up. The thin, delicate red straps at your shoulders were tied in a bow. Unfortunately, they are not doing their job in holding your corseted red and black top up. “He's not answering my texts. I thought he would be here by now.”
“He had to meet with our lawyer,” Joon answers, shouting back as he slightly leans down toward your ear so you can hear him.
“Did something happen?” you asked, concerned.
“No, no,” Hobi says, easing your worries while shaking his head at you. “Everythings good. He just needed some paperwork filled out.”
Before you can continue the conversation, Tae comes around to your side, pushing a red solo cup of green liquid at you. You give it a quick sniff trying to see if you could tell what is in it. No luck, but it did smell really sweet.
“Goblin juice,” he answers your unasked question. “It's just juice and vodka. Come on, let's dance.”
You didn't even get the chance to drink it before he grabbed your hand and pulled you into Jimin's living room that is currently serving as the dance floor. Jungkook stood in front of the television, singing karaoke in front of a crowd of giggling women trying to capture his attention. His talented voice was almost drowned out by the blaring background music. He was so focused on hitting the right notes that you don't think he even noticed the women. Tae spins you around. You laugh and follow his lead as his limbs flail about to a beat of their own. You haven't had this much fun in so long. You're pretty sure it was way before you met Changkyun. Back when you felt like you had to change who you were for him. You smile widely and let go, letting the rhythm of the music and Kook's vocals guide your body. Your hair moves in every direction as you sway your head back and forth with your eyes closed.
A warm body presses against your back. Your head turns slightly to see it's only Jimin, and you continue your carefree dance. Tae, who was dancing in his own little world, joins you once again, sandwiching you between the two of them. To anyone outside, it probably looked like something else. Something scandalous, as you are pressed flush against your two friends. To you, it was safe. It was you having fun and being free without any worries. It felt amazing.
“I got her from here,” Yoongi says, suddenly appearing at your side as he pulls you out from between your mutual friends.
“You're no fun,” Tae pouts and walks away with Jimin at his side.
“You came,” you say and throw your arms around Yoongi's neck, pressing your lips against his. It was a pretty bold move on your part, considering you're around a houseful of Jimin's coworkers and friends that you haven't met before tonight, but you don't care. Let them judge you. “Come dance with me.”
“Absolutely not. What are you wearing?” He asks as he pulls away, looking you up and down.
“I'm Little Red Riding Hood,” you answer, swishing your ruffled skirt back and forth. You do a full twirl before smirking over your shoulder at him and turn to face him once more. “Do you like it? I lost my cape.”
“It's uhh,” he says, trailing off as he licks his lips. “It's something.”
“Maybe you should take me back to your place,” you lean in and whisper against his ear.
“How much have you had to drink?” he asked, eyeing your cup.
“Nothing,” you answer truthfully. “Didn't get a chance to drink it before Tae pulled me out to dance.”
Yoongi takes the solo cup from you and places it down on a random shelf as he guides you to the door. You look over your shoulder and throw a half-hearted wave at Joon and Hobi, who in turn raise their cups to you. The cold air sends shivers and goosebumps throughout your body as soon as you step outside. Yoongi pulls you close to his side, his hand rubbing up and down your arm trying to warm you up with his own body heat. You cling to his side as the two of you make your way to his car before he opens the door for you and you climb in.
“Joon said you had to meet with your lawyer,” you comment, as he starts the car and pulls away from the curb. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” he says with a smile. “Everythings great, but I do need to talk to you when we get back.”
“You're not suing me, are you?” you ask jokingly. “I hate to tell you this, but you won't get much out of me.”
“I plan on doing many things to you, but suing you is not one of them,” he answers, and you slap his thigh in response.
Feeling a certain type of way, you undo your seatbelt, making his car ding repeatedly with a warning. You shift your body leaning over the middle console, supporting yourself with your arm as you press your lips to his neck, sucking lightly on his pulse point. He chuckles deeply and tries to push you away with his shoulder, but you won't let him. You let your non supporting hand run over the opposite side of his face and into his hair. Keeping him in place so he couldn't pull away from you.
“Darlin, I need to concentrate,” his voice sounds just a tad bit husky.
“I'm not doing anything,” you say, giving his earlobe a quick lick. You let your hand trail down over the front of his body before landing on his rapidly hardening erection over his pants. “Just keep your eyes on the road.”
“Y/N,” Yoongi chides, his voice sounding tight. “Let's get back home so we can talk, then I will give you what you want.”
Home. There it was again. Maybe you were spending too much time at his place. Even though he's the one to ask you to stay over all the time. You wonder if it came off as intrusive since you were supposed to be taking things slow still. Sighing, you finally pull away and sit back in your seat once again. You don't bother with your seatbelt since he's about to turn down your dirt road. Trying to not overthink his words, you focus on what your body wants as you rub your thighs together as subtly as you could as he pulls into your shared driveway. You need to get this talk over quickly.
The lights in Yoongi's kitchen were bright, and all the white within the space made it brighter. You sit at the table and watch as he sits next to you with a stack of papers. You weren't sure what to expect with this talk, but you didn't think paperwork would be involved.
“So, the bread and jams that you have made are a big hit with our customers. We keep getting daily inquiries about how people can buy the products now that the farmers market is closed for the season. We also got good feedback from the grocery stores that we sell to as well,” Yoongi explains to you. “They are quite interested in adding them to their shelves.”
“Okay,” you say, not understanding where this was going.
“Well, Tae and I talked and Tannie Farms wants to buy the recipes from you,” he says, pushing the papers in front of you along with an ink pen that you didn't see before. “We will buy each recipe from you for 300 dollars…”
“Wait,” you say, cutting him off, staring at the documents in front of you before lifting your eyes to look back at him. “I'm confused. You want me to sell my grandmother's recipes.”
“Yes, with the amount that we need to be profitable, we need these to be made at a high volume. There is no way that you can supply us with what we need. So, legally, we would like to buy them from you,” he explains.
“I can't do that,” you say, pushing the papers away from you.
“What do you mean? Do you want more money?” He asked, sitting back in his chair, crossing his arms defensively. “I think it's a more than fair offer. Our lawyer wanted to offer you less, and I had to talk him into 300.”
“It's not about money,” you retort, knitting your eyebrows together. “They are not my recipes to sell. They are the only thing that I have left of my grandmother. I don't feel right selling them.”
“What do you think I'm going to do with them?” He asks, his voicing rising a little. “This can be quite lucrative for the farm since there's no real fresh baked goods around here. You will get a good chunk of money out of it.”
“Will you stop thinking about money!” You exclaim. “Those recipes are special to me. They are my childhood memories. I don't want to give those away.”
“They are just recipes,” he sounds exasperated. “I'm not going to go off and sell them to Betty Crocker or something.”
“Then just find one on Google,” you snark. “I'm not selling them. You shouldn't have sprung this on me.”
“Well, I didn't think you would act like this,” he says, defending himself.
“Like what?” You snap, crossing your arms over your chest. “You completely blindsided me. You're not even asking me to sell them. You just shoved some papers at me expecting me to sign.”
“I told you that day at Jins that if everything went well, we would discuss things further,” he snaps back.
“Discuss? This is not discussing things further,” you exclaim. “This was you practically telling me what to do.”
It gets quiet in his kitchen. The two of you are just staring at each other. Yoongi suddenly grabs the contracts and rips them in half. It makes you jump slightly in your seat. He throws them back on the table as his sharp eyes look at you with little emotion. In fact, his stare is pretty blank.
“I think we are done here. You should go,” he mutters as he taps his fingers on his table top.
“Yoongi,” you say, but he cuts you off.
“Go, now,” he demands as he looks past you. “Get out of my house.”
“Fine,” you say, and get up from his table, heading for his kitchen door. As you open it, you turn to look back at him. “You know what? Thank you for showing me that you were using me to make a profit. I should have never trusted you.”
You slam his door behind you and run down his steps. You let your legs carry you over to your house as your heels click away on the pavement. Using your spare key, you open your door and slide down the wall next to it once it closes. Pulling your black heels off, you throw them across the room in anger, making them hit your cabinets. You silently curse yourself for letting another man hurt you. Never again. You will never let that happen again. You close your eyes and take in the feeling of the stabbing sensation in your heart. It's the feeling of loss.
Home? You laugh bitterly. Home? He was never going to be your home.
“Did you know?” You ask, still pissed off from the night before.
Hobi barely had his door open before you barged in and started to stomp around his apartment. It was the same apartment where you stayed a few months prior. The same apartment where your first broken heart led you and yet again here you were. All because you trusted some man.
“Know what?” He asked, bleary-eyed with messy hair. You had clearly woken him up with your angry pounding on the door. “What happened?”
“Did you know what Yoongi's meeting with the lawyer was about?” You ask, face hard and arms crossed against your chest.
“Ummm,” Hobi says, not denying your question.
“Don't lie to me,” you tell him.
“Yes,” he admits, throwing his arms up in the air in defeat. “Let's sit down and talk.”
You follow him into his living room, sitting down on his couch. His nice large, comfortable couch. This was definitely one thing that you missed about staying with him. Of course, you missed his company, but his couch was so nice. No lumps, perfectly smooth, and welcoming.
“Why didn't you at least warn me?” You ask. “You had plenty of time to tell me what was going on.”
“You're right. I should have said something,” he agrees. “But….I honestly thought you wouldn’t have a problem with it. Did you guys have a fight?”
“Oh, we had a fight alright,” you mutter, leaning back, resting your head back against the back cushions. “He kicked me out of his house.”
“What happened?” He asks, looking clearly confused.
“He didn't even ask if I was willing to sell the recipes. He just expected me to sign the papers right there and then. He made it all about money,” you explain, as you stare up at his ceiling. “Accused me of wanting more money than what he was offering. I don't care about the money.”
“What is it that you care about?” He asks, leaning his arm on the back of the couch and resting his head against his hand as he stares at you.
“Do you remember when we used to bake with my grandma when we were young?” You ask, and he nods his head, confirming that he did. “Those recipes…they are attached to all the memories I have left of her. He’s asking me to give them all away. Just to sell it away to people who don't care about those memories, but can mass produce the products.”
“You'll always have those memories,” he says gently, making you glare at him. “Don't look at me like that. I'm not saying that you have to sell them to Tannie Farms. I'm just saying that you will always have those memories. I don't think your grandma would be upset if you took the deal.”
Hobi's phone chimes with a notification disrupting your conversation. Fishing his phone out of his pocket, his eyes quickly look at you before swiping open his phone to respond to a text. Nervously, he tucks his phone under his leg before smiling at you.
“It's him, isn't it?” You ask, staring at him from the corner of your eye. “What does he want?”
“Just saying hi,” he answers, looking anywhere except at you.
You sit up, stretching your arms above your head before rolling your shoulders. Looking over at Hobi, you give him a small smile that he wearily returns. Smiling bigger, you launch yourself at him, digging your hand under his leg, grabbing his phone.
“Stop,” he screeches, trying to grab you and stop you from grabbing his phone. With the device in hand, you dash away to his bathroom with Hobi hot on your heels. Making it to safety, you slam the door, locking it so he can't get to you. “My phone has a passcode. Just open the door and give it back.”
You roll your eyes and wake his phone screen. Hopping up on the counter, you cross your ankles and study the numbers on his lock screen. Tapping the side of his phone with your finger, you think his code would be something probably obvious. He was a pretty simple man. He never really changed his daily routine. Did laundry the same time and day every week. Visited his parents like clock work. He probably uses the same code for everything. Smiling to yourself, you press the numbers, 1..3..4..3..4..0. Success: You never understood his obsession with that group of numbers, but he used it all the time in high school. Maybe this will teach him to regularly change his passwords. Tapping his messages app, you press on Yoongi's name as soon as it pops up.
She won't sell them. Can you try to talk to her?
I know. She's here with me. I can try, but I don't think it will end well.
You're mad. You feel like everyone has conspired against you. Hobi was supposed to be your best friend, and he's not even standing up for you. He wasn't defending you this time. Jumping down from the counter, you open the door to find your friend leaning against the wall opposite the door. You watch him straighten up and hold out his hand. You give him the phone, watching as a look of surprise comes across his face when he notices the phone screen unlocked.
“You think I should sell them,” you tell him.
“I think that you should think about it,” he confesses.
“Is this what everyone thinks?” You ask, dreading the answer.
“We had a meeting a couple of weeks ago,” he admits, shifting nervously side to side. “Everyone is in agreement that it would be good to buy them from you. I didn't think Yoongi was going to approach you like that. I figured he would actually have a discussion with you first.”
“So, you all just kept this from me for weeks. Something that directly impacts me?” You ask. “Did you all conspire together and plan on getting me to fall for him? If he got me to like him enough, I wouldn't tell him, no?”
“That's not fair. His feelings for you are real,” he sighs. “It's just business….you know. You said no, and that's perfectly fine. So, that's the end of it.”
“But….it's clearly not,” you dispute his statement. “If it was the end. You wouldn't have agreed with Yoongi to try and talk to me.”
“I'm sorry,” he says softly.
“Yeah, me too,” you respond before turning away and walking out of his apartment.
Opening your bedroom closet, you slide that beautifully decorated box that you pulled out of your parents' moldy attic all the way back on your top shelf. You don't even want to look at it. You don't ever want to bake again.
Going back downstairs into your kitchen, you grab a container of leftovers from your fridge. Plopping yourself down on a wobbly seat, you decide to eat the food cold. Looking out your window, you notice Yoongi start to make his way across the driveway to your house. You put your fork down and hold your breath as you watch him. Suddenly, he stops midway over before turning and going back to his own home. You slump down in your seat. Your eyes never leave the window in hopes that he comes back. He doesn't. Pushing your food away from you, you cross your arms against your chest. You didn't have much of an appetite right now. Picking up your phone, you open your messages, looking at Hobi's contact picture. Guilt swirls in your stomach.
I'm sorry
You hit send. You bite your lower lip, waiting to see if he will respond. You wouldn't blame him if he didn't. You probably lost Yoongi, but you couldn't lose Hobi. Not again.
Me too
You smile at his response. Burying your face in your hands, you cry. You don't understand how everything got so out of hand. Things were great. It was more than great. Maybe you were wrong. Maybe you were taking this all too personally. If Yoongi approaches you again, you'll talk to him. You can try to figure something out once you're both calm. Until then, you'll stay clear. Just like you always used to.
Tagged Readers:
@mar-lo-pap , @bontensbabygirl , @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs , @redragdoll, @svnbangtansworld , @wobblewobble822 , @busanbby-jjk , @pitchblack0309 , @bluesiebirdie
#yoongi smut#yoongi x reader#yoongi fanfic#bts fic#bts smut#min yoongi smut#yoongi x you#yoongi au#yoongi fluff#bts yoongi#suga bangtan#bts min yoongi#yoongi fic#min yoongi#yoongi#yoongi scenarios#suga bts#bts suga
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