#updated my masterlist and decided to make a little thing

[shoshimakesstuff]

“You needed this,” he says, firm and a question at once. Something in her ribcage sings. “Couldn’t risk you not getting it.” “Getting what?” “A good kiss.” She drags her thumbnail gently across the back of his neck, the short hairs there, watches his eyelashes flutter ever so slightly. “Someone else might have, couldn’t risk that, either.” x

@shoshiwrites' jo + egan — masterpost here.

[godsfavdarling]

How does that feel?

my masterlist

+18!!!

pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader summary: You've been having a hard time finishing in bed and you finally tell Spencer what's going on. words: 4,4k warnings: smut - oral (fem! receiving), breast/nipple play, unprotected sex (don't do that) a/n: this was a request! also, i've stared at this thing for so long i don't know anymore what's going on, but i hope yall like it <3

You sat at a cozy corner table in the dimly lit bar, surrounded by your closest friends - Penelope, Emily, and JJ. The four of you had met up for a much-needed girls' night out to finally have a chance to unwind and catch up. 

"Can you believe the latest case we worked on?" JJ said, shaking her head. "Sometimes it feels like we're living in a crime novel."

"Tell me about it," Emily agreed. "But PLEASE! Let’s not talk about work. I need to decompress."

Penelope raised her glass. "To decompressing! And to… friends!"

You all clinked glasses, smiling at each other. Very quickly the conversation shifted towards more personal topics.

"So, how are things with Will?" Emily asked, turning to JJ.

JJ smiled. "Things are great, actually. We're planning a little getaway next month, just the two of us. What about you, Em? Any romance on the horizon?"

Emily shrugged. "I'm enjoying the single life right now. Besides, it’s not easy to find love having this job. When am I supposed to do that?"

Penelope grinned. "Don’t you worry about it, pumpkin! You’re gonna find someone soon. I can feel it in my bones!."

The conversation continued in this vein for a while, each of you sharing updates about your romantic lives. You listened and laughed along, but Penelope's observant eyes caught the slightly distant look on your face.

"Alright, spill it," Penelope prompted, her eyes twinkling with curiosity. "What's been going on with you lately? You've seemed a bit off."

You sighed, feeling a mixture of relief and embarrassment. These were your friends, after all, and you knew you could trust them. "It's just... I've been having a hard time finishing in bed lately. It's been… really frustrating."

Emily raised an eyebrow, her expression sympathetic. "Have you talked to Spencer about it?"

You shook your head. "Not yet. I mean, I want to, but I don't want to make him feel bad or think it's his fault. He's always so attentive, and I don't want him to think he's doing something wrong. And he’s not doing anything wrong. He’s perfect. Obviously."

JJ leaned in, her voice gentle. "Hey, communication is key. Spencer loves you, and I'm sure he’d want to know what's going on so he can help. I’m sure his big brain knows exactly what to do."

Penelope nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely! Plus, it could be an opportunity to explore new things together… Sometimes all it takes is a little experimentation."

You smiled, feeling a bit more encouraged. "Yeah, maybe you're right. I'll talk to him."

-------------------------------------

Later that evening, you found yourself back at home, sitting on the couch next to Spencer. He was engrossed in a book, the dim light casting soft shadows across his focused face. He set the book aside when he noticed your pensive expression, concern immediately clouding his eyes.

"Hey, is everything okay?" he asked, his voice gentle but laced with worry.

You took a deep breath, feeling your heart pound in your chest. "Spence, there's something I need to talk to you about."

He turned to face you fully, his full attention on you, his brow furrowing slightly. "Of course. What is it?"

You hesitated, your fingers twisting in your lap as you searched for the right words. Finally, you decided to dive in. "Lately, I've been having a hard time finishing in bed. It's been really frustrating for me, and I didn't want to say anything because I didn't want you to feel bad."

Spencer's expression softened, his eyes filled with understanding and concern. His mouth opened slightly as if to speak, but he hesitated, clearly processing what you had just revealed. "Oh…”

You immediately regretted saying anything. It wasn't the end of the world, after all. You still enjoyed sex but just couldn't reach the high. Maybe you were just too stressed. 

It had nothing to do with Spencer. 

Tears welled up in your eyes as Spencer seemed lost in thought, his brow furrowed as he tried to find the right words. Why would he know what to say? You felt like you were just making things difficult.

“Forget it. It’s fine,” you said quickly, trying to dismiss the conversation and spare him the discomfort.

“No, no, no, wait,” he said, reaching out and grabbing your hands as you started to stand up. His grip was firm but gentle, grounding you. “It’s okay. I’m glad you told me. I just… how did I not notice? I… I’m just trying to remember, well, I remember everything and I just… I can’t believe I… couldn’t tell.”

“It’s fine, Spencer. I didn’t want you to know. It’s embarrassing.” Your voice wavered, and you looked away, feeling tears start to spill down your cheeks.

“No, it’s not. It’s not embarrassing. I want you to feel good.”

“It does feel good. Always. I just… I don’t know. I just can’t cum. It’s like I get almost there and it feels good, but it never happens.” At this point, you were crying openly, the frustration and embarrassment overwhelming you.

Spencer pulled you into a tight hug, his arms wrapping around you securely. You buried your face in his chest, feeling the warmth and steady beat of his heart. He rubbed your back soothingly, his voice a soft murmur in your ear. "Hey, hey, it’s okay. We’ll figure this out together. I want to help."

You clung to him, feeling the weight of your frustration starting to lift just a little. "I’m sorry. I just didn’t want you to think it was your fault."

Spencer pulled back slightly to look into your eyes, his gaze intense and filled with love. “It’s not your fault, and it’s not my fault. Sometimes these things happen. What’s important is that we’re in this together. We can try new things, we can talk and see what works for you.”

You nodded, sniffling a little. “Okay. I’d like that.”

“Good,” he said, smiling gently, his thumb brushing away a tear from your cheek. “We’ll take it slow and explore together. Your pleasure is important to me, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make sure you’re satisfied.”

As you snuggled into his arms, the tension slowly easing from your body, you wondered why you had been so scared to tell him in the first place. Spencer always knew what to say, always knew how to make you feel safe and loved. 

This was Spencer - your Spencer - and you realized you had nothing to fear.

-------------------------------------

Spencer was clearly waiting for you to initiate anything, respecting your pace and comfort. In the meantime, he very carefully tried to understand you.

Despite his constant reassurances that there was nothing to be ashamed of and that he was more than happy to figure this out together, you couldn't shake the lingering embarrassment about your problem. He was understanding and supportive, trying to create a safe space for you to open up about your frustrations.

You spent several nights just talking, diving deep into the details of your intimate experiences. Spencer approached it with a mix of curiosity and determination, asking thoughtful and sometimes probing questions. 

You discussed every position you'd tried before, analyzing what felt best and why. You talked about your feelings toward toys and whether they might help. 

Spencer inquired about foreplay - whether it felt too short, too long, too intense, or not intense enough. He wanted to understand what was most pleasurable for you in terms of finishing. Was it when he was eating you out, fingering you, or through penetration? Or did you find that a combination of these was most satisfying? 

He also asked if you enjoyed it when he talked to you during the act. What were your favorite things for him to say? 

He wanted to understand everything about your experiences. What went through your mind when you masturbated? What kind of porn did you watch? Each question, while sometimes making your face flush with embarrassment, was asked with genuine care and focus. 

Spencer treated it like a meticulous scientific research project, aiming to solve the problem with the utmost care and attentiveness. His dedication and focus made you feel deeply cared for, as he was on a mission to be the one to help you find the satisfaction you deserved.

On Saturday night, you and Spencer lay in bed with your books, enjoying the quiet comfort of each other's company. He was engrossed in a thick classic novel in a foreign language, while you were absorbed in your favorite author’s new romance. The plot had just reached the point where the two protagonists had sex for the first time. The scene stirred something deep within you, making your skin feel hot and your heart race. You bit your lip, trying to concentrate, but your thoughts kept drifting.

As the scene ended, you finally allowed yourself to look over at Spencer. He was completely lost in the pages, his brows furrowed in concentration.

“Having problems, genius?” you teased, your voice carrying a playful edge.

“What? No!” he replied, not even looking up from the words on the page. “How’s your romance? Is it good?”

“Oh... it’s very good,” you said, scooting closer to him, propping your head on your hand. Finally, he looked at you, curiosity mingling with his usual attentiveness.

“What is it?” he asked, sensing your change in mood.

“Nothing,” you replied with feigned innocence, placing your hand on his chest. 

His eyes stayed on you, studying your expression. Your breathing grew heavier as you stared at his neck, unable to hold back any longer. You lowered your face to the side of his neck, your lips brushing against his skin.

Spencer's breath hitched slightly, and he set his book aside, his attention fully on you now. "Are you sure it's nothing?" he murmured, his voice low and inviting.

You smiled against his neck, feeling the warmth of his skin. "Well, maybe it's something," you admitted, your voice a whisper. Your fingers traced gentle patterns on his chest, feeling a now quicker beat of his heart beneath your touch.

Spencer’s hand came up to cradle your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. “Tell me,” he urged softly, his eyes filled with desire.

The room felt charged with electricity. 

“Well… I was just reading this scene… where, you know… the girl and the boy finally fucked. On the floor. It made me think of us.” you confessed, your voice trembling slightly.

“You want to have sex on the floor?” Spencer asked with a serious tone.

You laughed, the sound easing some of the tension. “No, too many germs,” you said with a playful grin.

Spencer chuckled, his eyes softening with affection. “Alright, not on the floor then,” he said, his voice low and inviting as his hand gently caressed your cheek. “But I get the idea.”

You leaned into his touch, your heart pounding with anticipation. “I just want to be close to you,” you murmured, your fingers tracing the outline of his collarbone.

Spencer's eyes darkened with understanding, and he leaned in to kiss you, his lips soft yet insistent. “Then let’s explore that together,” he whispered against your lips, his hand sliding down to rest on your hip, pulling you closer.

His kiss was deep, his lips moving against yours with a gentle urgency that sent shivers down your spine. 

His hand, now resting on your hip, guided you closer, pressing your bodies together. 

You instinctively rubbed your thighs together, seeking some friction, and Spencer, ever observant, immediately noticed. It seemed impossible for him to be more attentive, yet somehow he was. 

With a gentle but deliberate motion, he turned you so that you were lying on your back beneath him. As he shifted, you felt the press of his already hard cock against your core, making you lift your hips slightly, yearning for more contact.

“We’re gonna take things slow, okay?” he murmured, his voice soft but firm. “I want you to feel good.”

You wanted him, you wanted him now, but you understood his approach. 

After all the endless conversations, you and Spencer had reached a few conclusions about what worked best for you both. 

For one, you often found yourselves too excited, mostly you, to slow things down. Foreplay, though it was present, had usually been quite brief due to the intense need to get naked and feel him inside you. So, longer foreplay became a new priority.

Two, you discovered that you felt most connected when he was close to you, every part of his body touching yours.

Three, you both agreed on the importance of more kissing. Spencer had given you what felt like a comprehensive college level lesson on erogenous zones, emphasizing the need to focus on and cherish these areas. 

His lips, his touch, his breath - every aspect of physical intimacy was to be savored and explored in greater depth.

With these insights in mind, Spencer leaned down, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. His hands roamed your body with a slow, deliberate grace, each touch designed to explore and stimulate. 

His kisses traveled from your lips to your neck, then lower, each movement a careful balance of passion and tenderness.

He paused to look into your eyes, his gaze filled with both love and a hint of playful mischief. “Ready for us to take our time?” he asked, his voice a soothing murmur.

You nodded, your heart racing with anticipation. “Yes,” you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of excitement and relief. “Let’s take our time.”

Your nipples were already hard against your tank top, the fabric offering little barrier to the stimulation. Spencer grazed the side of your breasts with his hands, his touch both teasing and tender. 

As his lips kissed and nuzzled your collarbones, his thumb began to circle your nipple through the thin material of your shirt. The sensation made you shiver with pleasure, and you melted further into his touch.

His leg, now firmly pressed between your thighs, rubbed gently against your inner thighs and core. The pressure of his length pressed into your hip, amplifying the heat building in you.

“Please, take it off,” you whispered, your voice quivering with need.

“Take off what?” Spencer murmured, his face still buried in your chest, his hair brushing against your face with every movement.

“My shirt. Please,” you pleaded, a hint of desperation in your voice.

He chuckled softly, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he slid his hands lower, pushing up your top to reveal your stomach. He showered your exposed skin with soft kisses, his lips warm and affectionate against your belly. 

As you reached for the hem of your shirt, you quickly pulled it off, tossing it aside.

“What happened to taking things slow?” Spencer asked, looking up at you with a teasing grin, his chin resting against your stomach.

“Sorry,” you said, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“Don’t be,” he replied with a smile. “I just want to make sure you feel really good.”

“I do,” you whispered, your voice filled with need. “Keep going.”

“Whatever you say, angel,” he murmured with a soft chuckle.

With that, Spencer moved between your legs, lifting them and resting them on his shoulders. He positioned himself comfortably, and you felt the anticipation rise as his face moved closer to your core. 

He inhaled deeply, his breath warm against your sensitive folds, making you whimper in response.

“Please,” you begged softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Okay,” he said, his voice muffled as he pressed his face into you, pulling down your underwear with careful, deliberate motions. He started with a gentle kiss on your nub, his lips exploring with a tenderness that made you gasp. 

He then trailed his kisses down to your thighs, peppering them with soft, teasing pecks. The sensation was delightful, and you giggled, placing your hand on his cheek.

He turned his mouth to your hand, kissing the inside of your palm before taking it in his hand and guiding it back to rest gently beside you. His fingers lingered, his touch warm and reassuring as he held your hand. 

He then looked at your cunt.

“You’re already so wet. For me?” he asked, his voice filled with both awe and desire.

“For you? Always,” you replied, your breath hitching.

He chuckled against you, the sound and the vibration making you shiver. “Don’t do that,” you said with a laugh, trying to steady your breathing.

“Sorry,” he murmured with a playful tone. 

Before you could say anything more, he gave you a long, slow lick from your entrance to the top, his tongue moving with a deliberate slowness. He stopped at your sensitive nub and began to suck gently, his mouth working with a rhythm that made you arch your back and moan in pleasure.

Spencer’s mouth was a world of sensation against you. 

He kept going with long, languid licks, his tongue gliding from your entrance to the top of your sensitive nub. Each stroke was deliberate, exploring every inch with a careful, loving precision. 

The warmth of his tongue, combined with the perfect pressure, sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, making you gasp and moan.

You felt your breath quicken as his movements became more focused. 

He moved his tongue in quicker, teasing circles around your clit, his mouth creating a constant, delightful friction. 

You squirmed under the intensity, your hips instinctively bucking in response.

When you no longer felt him on your clit, a desperate cry for him almost escaped your lips. But then, he gently slipped his tongue inside you, and a wave of relief and pleasure washed over you. 

He moved with precision, his tongue exploring deeper while maintaining the steady, teasing motions that drove you wild. Each movement was deliberate, calculated to elicit the maximum pleasure from you.

His nose brushed against your folds and clit with each movement, adding an extra layer of sensation. The combination of his tongue inside you and the gentle pressure of his nose against your most sensitive spot made you tremble. 

Your hand clutched at the sheets, your body arching toward him, seeking more.

You could feel the build-up of tension and ecstasy swelling inside you.

Through all of this, Spencer held your hand firmly in his, his fingers intertwined with yours. 

As you felt your orgasm approaching, you squeezed his hand tightly, your fingers gripping his with a mix of desperation and pleasure. 

Spencer responded by tracing gentle circles on the back of your hand with his thumb, his touch soothing and intimate amidst all the intense sensations he was creating.

With a final, expert flick of his tongue, he sent you spiraling into a powerful climax. 

Your body tensed and then released in a wave of pleasure, your moans filling the room. Spencer continued his slow, consistent movements, savoring every moment of your release.

As the waves of pleasure began to subside, he slowly eased his mouth away, leaving soft, lingering kisses along your inner thighs. 

His hand remained clasped with yours, and he looked into your eyes from between your thighs, his expression a mix of content and desire. “Wanna keep going? We can stop if you need to.”

You shook your head, a determined glint in your eyes as you pulled yourself up and crushed into him, pressing your lips against his with an almost desperate intensity. 

The kiss was fervent, your tongues dancing together, both urgent and consuming as you tasted yourself on his lips and on his tongue. He was covered in you.

Spencer’s hands found their way to your back, his touch warm and gentle, but firm at the same time.

Tonight felt different. It was more intense, more electric. 

As your kiss grew deeper, you moaned into him, the sound mingling with his own soft groans of pleasure. With a deft maneuver, he turned you so that you were straddling him, his hands firmly on your hips.

“Is this okay?” he managed to ask, his voice a low rumble as he pulled away just enough to look into your eyes. The effort it took to break the kiss was evident, his breaths heavy and laden with desire.

“Yes,” you responded quickly, your need palpable as you crashed your lips back onto his, kissing him even harder. 

“Baby, slow down,” Spencer said softly, though his voice was tinged with longing. “We were meant to go slow.”

You moved your lips to his cheek and jaw, leaving a trail of kisses that were tender but laced with urgency. “I need you. I need you so bad,” you whispered against his skin, the words laced with an aching desire.

Spencer gently cupped your face, his fingers tracing soothing patterns along your jawline. He guided your gaze to meet his.

“Look at me,” he said softly, his voice a gentle promise and his eyes filled with affection “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. We have all night and even more.”

He leaned in and kissed you with a tenderness that contrasted the intensity of moments before. 

“How do you do it?” you asked breathlessly, your curiosity blending with the haze of desire. You wondered, as you looked into his eyes, how he managed to maintain such control over himself amidst all the passion.

“What?” Spencer’s voice was a mixture of confusion and intrigue.

“Stop yourself,” you clarified, your voice barely above a whisper. “How do you manage to hold back?”

Spencer’s eyes softened, and he gave you a reassuring smile. “It’s not about holding back,” he said, his voice calm and sincere. “It’s about making sure you feel good. I want this to be perfect for you, for us, every time. That’s what matters.”

His words stirred something deep within you, and you were hit by a wave of warmth and appreciation. As he leaned in to kiss you again, the tender, loving nature of his touch gave you goosebumps.

“Can we fuck now?” you asked, your voice husky with need.

Spencer looked at you with a warm, eager smile. “Yes. Yes, we can,”

You gave his cock a few teasing strokes, feeling the way he reacted, his breath hitching as he moaned softly into your shoulder. You slowly guided him to your entrance. 

The sensation of him pressing against you was both thrilling and comforting, a familiar solace you will never get tired of and always makes your world shudder.

With a gentle, deliberate motion, you positioned him at your core, and you slowly lowered yourself onto him. 

The gradual stretch and the way he filled you completely was exquisite, causing you both to moan into each other’s mouths softly. 

You took your time, savoring each inch, feeling every subtle shift and movement.

Spencer’s hands were steady on your hips, guiding and supporting you as you adjusted to his size. His breaths were heavy, matching the rhythm of your movements. 

The room was filled with only the sound of your shared pleasure, a mix of gasps and moans.

As you slowly rode him, the rhythm of your movements became more synchronized, each motion building both of you up to the peak. 

Spencer’s hands were not idle - he moved with purpose, his touch exploring every inch of your body with a deep, loving attentiveness.

One hand continued to support you around your lower back, while the other trailed up to your breasts. His fingers began to play with your nipples, gently pinching and rolling them as you moved. 

That was one thing you had confessed to him during one of your intimate conversations, and Spencer had clearly taken it to heart. You had shared with him how much you loved when he played with your breasts, revealing, a bit embarrassed, the deep pleasure it brought you.

“How does that feel?” he asked in between the kisses he left on your neck, his voice a husky whisper against your skin.

“Fuck,” was all you managed to say, a breathless gasp that made him chuckle, his eyes gleaming with amusement and desire.

He massaged your breasts tenderly, his fingers moving with a practiced ease, adjusting his touch to match the rhythm of your thrusts. His lips covered every inch of your neck and shoulders, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.

The combination of his hands on your breasts, the feeling of him inside you, and his lips on your skin was overwhelming. Your body responded instinctively, arching into his touch, your breath coming in short, sharp bursts.

Spencer’s breath came in ragged gasps, his groans of pleasure mingling with yours. His hands worked skillfully, keeping your nipples sensitive and aroused as your movements became more frantic and desperate. Then his eyes locked onto yours, a mixture of concentration and passion evident in his gaze.

While you stared into his brown eyes, he finally teased your nipple with a light lick of his tongue. 

You almost screamed. 

He started kissing it while his other hand worked on your other breast, his mouth hot and insistent. His tongue traced circles around your hard peak, sending shivers down your spine, while his slim fingers squeezed the other one.

At that point, you screamed into his ear, unable to contain the intensity of your pleasure.

“Sorry,” you whispered, your voice a trembling apology.

“It’s okay. You’re so beautiful,” he replied, his eyes softening with affection as he looked at you, his hands never ceasing their tender ministrations. His words and touch combined, making you feel cherished and desired in every way and that made your heart swell.

His lips returned to your other nipple, sucking and teasing it with more insistence now.

Finally, the pressure inside you reached its peak. 

With a gasp and a shudder, you came, the wave of ecstasy crashing over you while his lips stayed on your breasts peppering them with kisses.

Your body tensed and then relaxed as you rode out the climax, your moans filling the room. Spencer continued to stroke your breasts gently, his touch both soothing and stimulating as he guided you through the final throes of your orgasm.

As you slowly came down from the high, you leaned your head against his, your fingers gently threading through his hair, the other arm wrapped around his neck. He held you close, his hands now lingering on your back with a soft, affectionate touch. 

He squeezed you tightly, turning his face to kiss your neck, which elicited one more moan from your lips. 

You could feel him smiling against your skin as he squeezed you tightly one more time.

[strawbeerossi]

Taking Calls

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: Whenever a man who makes you feel uncomfortable asks for your number, you give him your boyfriend’s number instead. Whenever he texts him all day and finally decides to call, Spencer plans on taking care of it.

Content/Warnings: Minor case details (nothing explicit), creep officer, loving boyfriend Spencer, intimidation mention, kissing, unprotected sex, Spencer answers a phone call in the middle of sex (I didn’t know how to word that so it works lmao.)

Word Count: 1.2K

Anon Request: I had a spicy idea where a creepy cop tries to get readers number for “work purposes” and instead she gives him Spencer’s number and the cop happens to call Spencer and reader while he’s in the middle of fucking reader or the reader is in the middle of giving him a blowjob and the cop sort of hears her in the background? I just thought you’d be the perfect person to write this 😍

Navigation || Criminal Minds Masterlist || Request

🏷️ @kr-1-sta @iluvreid @nervousmoongiver @multifandom-on-the-side @ferrjulie @lov1ngreid @sobbingcryingattsizzles @doriantomybasil @thegluesong @rosiehale23

Spencer had his number given out before due to a prank on Derek’s end that had so many people blowing up his phone. It was something he vowed that he would get the man back for and specifically state that it could never happen again.

The team was on a case in Manhattan, a standard killer who had an awakened blood lust was terrorizing the city. After six victims, the NYPD felt it was best to invite the BAU onto the case, which seemed to be too little too late due to the man going dormant.

Every lead was buried so deep that you’d need an excavator to dig them up, still the team persisted. You were currently on day three, staying back at the police precinct along with Dave to interview the families of the deceased, hoping to dig up any leads.

You had currently stepped out for a brief break, standing by the coffee machine as you were getting one of the disposable cups, filling it to the brim with a healthy mixture of coffee and sugar. “Hey, Y/L/N, correct?” A voice came from behind you, making you turn to look over the person addressing you. Officer Laslow. “Hi, yes. That’s me. How can I help you?” You asked, eyebrows raising.

You didn’t like to judge people, however you had a very uneasy feeling around him. The way he was looking at you was a good enough reason to be uncomfortable, the man seeming to mentally undress you as he stared into your soul. “I was just wondering if your team had any leads? I mean, I’m sure the families know something,” He spoke, making you sigh as your shoulders slumped. “Nothing, unfortunately.” You spoke while sipping from the coffee cup in your hands.

“Nothing? What a shame. I was actually wondering if you and I could exchange numbers? No funny business, I’m just wanting to make sure we can stay in communication throughout this case. You know, share intel.”

He could’ve just asked Aaron for updates. However, in the moment of being uncomfortable and not knowing what to say, you were clearing your throat. “Well. Okay.. Just for intel though.” You murmured, slowly taking the device from his hands to put in Spencer’s number instead of your own. You’d explain things to your boyfriend later. Until then, you were doing the next best option. Spencer could handle this. You were sure of it.

As another day passed and there was no leads, the team was retreating to the hotel for the night to try and get some rest, even if they were overly focused on trying to catch the murderer running around freely. “Honey, I have a question.” Spencer began as he was walking from the bathroom, a pair of flannel pyjama pants and a white t-shirt clinging to his lanky frame. “I’ve just had a lot of texts today. The person is addressing you by name. Wanna talk about who you gave my number to?” He asked softly. He knew it had to be a big deal if you wouldn’t give someone your number.

“Some creep on the NYPD team. You should’ve seen the way he looked at me, Spencer. It made me so uncomfortable.” You shivered while looking over at your boyfriend. “I’m sorry that I gave him your number. I didn’t know what else to do.” The feeling of his hand rubbing your shoulder caused your body to relax, a soft sigh leaving his lips.

“I’m not upset with you by any means. I just wanted to ask. He didn’t try and touch you or force himself on you, right?” He asked, slowly letting his arm wrap around your shoulders as you shook your head. “No. Nothing like that. He was just twice my size and intimidating. I mean, he could’ve hurt me if I rejected him.” In this job, Spencer saw cases like that far too much, so he believed it.

“Come here.” He spoke while slowly pressing a few kisses against your cheek. “It’ll be okay. I’ll speak with Hotch about it tomorrow. It’ll get taken care of.” He smiled, the back of his knuckle gently caressing your cheek. “How did I get so lucky to be with you?” You asked softly, offering a smile as you leaned against his touch. “I’m the lucky one.” He mused, now moving to press a sweet kiss against your lips.

However, the kiss was only cut short whenever he could hear the ringtone on his phone designated for texts. “This guy is a real piece of work.” Your boyfriend muttered against your lips, opting to ignore the incessant sounds coming from his phone as he carried on your shared kiss. As the kids deepened, his hands were working to push your shirt over your head before his hands were working on your work pants. You hadn’t changed just yet, so he felt like he was definitely helping you out in the grand scheme of things.

Once you were undressed to his liking, it wasn’t long until your own hands were pushing at his clothes to bring him to the same level of unclothed as you were. “Lay down.” Spencer breathed as he broke the kiss, watching you push yourself back in bed before he was crawling on top of you to attach your lips once more. You were both eager, a lot of stress from this case as well as your own yearning for pleasure making things go just a little faster than usual. He used one hand to bring one of your legs around his waist, which prompted you to mirror your actions with your other leg.

Pushing your panties to the side, your boyfriend wasted no time pushing his cock inside of your eager cunt, a low groan leaving his lips as the hand propping him up was gripping the sheets. “Fuck. I love you.” He whispered, pressing a few sweet kisses to your lips. For once today, you felt like you could forget the officer from earlier, to enjoy the moment. Until Spencer was getting a call. “Are you kidding?” He huffed out of frustration, hips still thrusting at a slow pace as he was reaching over to take his cellphone from the bedside table.

“W-we should stop.” You breathed, knowing he had to take the call judging by the look on his face. “No. No, just lay there and take it, pretty girl. I’m gonna settle this once and for all.” He murmured. Before you could object, he was swiping to answer the call. “I don’t appreciate being ignored.” The male on the other end of the phone huffed. Just hearing his slimy voice had Spencer cringing. Using his shoulder to hold the phone up to his ear, he let out a soft breath. His hips thrusted into you at a faster speed, your lip tucked between your teeth as you really did try to keep quiet.

“She’s busy but I can take a message.” Spencer answered as if he wasn’t jackhammering you into the mattress right now, whines and moans slipping from your lips as you couldn’t hold them back anymore. “Who is this?” The officer asked, now his annoyance being clear as day. “Spencer!” You gasped out, answering his question without even being aware of it.

“You heard her. Tell the nice man on the phone who has the pleasure of fucking you.” Spencer grunted, making you red in the face as you gripped his upper arms. “You!”

“My name, baby. Tell him who gets to take you home every night.”

“Spencer!” You panted, head tossed back as he was pounding into your sweet spot.

“Now. If you’ll excuse me, I have important matters to attend to. I hope you get the hint.” He murmured.

[mariasont]

Spoiled - A.H

a/n: felt feral writing this hope y'all enjoy it as much as i did

think im ovulating or something YALL IDK

anyhow happy reading let me know what yall think 🤭

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: in which hotch overhears your conversation with penelope and decides to do something about it

warnings: 18+ MDNI, phone sex!, sex toy!, fem solo masturbation, penelope being a little instigator lmao, dirty talk, soft dom!hotch, established relationship, honestly a little bit of angst whoops, reader is slightly dramatic like hotch has been gone for prob 5 hours STAND UP!

wc: 3.3k

"Penelope Grace Garcia!"

Her comment earned her the full government name, igniting a burst of laughter that you attempt to smother behind your hand. Sinking deeper into the couch, you dismiss the absurdity with a shake of your head. You even find yourself glancing over your shoulder even though you know no one is home.

"You know, I really shouldn't be telling you this, but trust me, that's the least of our worries in this relationship."

"Look, whatever floats your love boat or rocks your bed frame is strictly your business," she comments as if that were the most casual thing to say.

You giggle, a warmth spreading through you as you tread across the kitchen tiles, the phone pressed against your ear. 

"Oh my god, Pen," you let out a laugh, feeling a soft crimson spread across your cheeks, while your thighs swell with the thoughts of your doting boyfriend. "No, no, like I said we're more than okay in that department. It just gets, well, lonely when he's away."

Your hand curls around the neck of your favorite bottle of red, easing the cork free with a satisfying pop. The liquid swirls into the glass, a little more than probably necessary, as the gentle hiss of water beginning to simmer breaks through the kitchen. 

"You, my dear, are a saint among mortals."

"Well, he makes it easy," you shrug, pouring the rice into the bubbling pot, a cloud of steam rising to paint the windows.

"Honestly, I don't know how you manage. I'd be itching for it, especially if it's as good as you say," Penelope admits with a dramatic sigh.

You laugh, propping the phone against the backsplash, its speaker projecting the conversation into the room. Aaron stands just out of sight, unnoticed, taking in your every syllable.

"When he gets back, trust me, every second apart seems like a small price to pay."

"Ever thought about getting yourself a toy? You know, for those long nights?" Penelope hints not (at all) so slyly. 

The wine almost sprays from your mouth as you stifle a surprised splutter. Aaron, still unseen, raises an eyebrow.

"Oh, um, no, I haven't really considered... a toy," you murmur, cheeks burning. You clear your throat, pretending to be engrossed in the simmering pot. "Aaron might have an opinion on that, I guess."

Your attempt at nonchalance was failing, you definitely knew that.

Aaron rested casually against the door frame, a soft smile touching his lips at the sound of your bashful laughter. He'd always had a soft spot for the way your cheeks bloom with color--a sight he wasn't afraid to go great lengths to witness. The idea of a toy seemed to pique his curiosity, drawing a pensive frown as his attention stayed fixed on you for a moment longer.

He slips away silently, his steps carrying him to the front door as you continue your conversation with Penelope.

The call disconnects with a soft click, and you're left in the quiet of the kitchen, unwittingly promising to keep Penelope updated. Turning back to the stove, you stir the sauce with a distracted hand, your lips downturned. Aaron should have been home by now.

The dining table is set, candles flickering, their glow falling on the chair he's yet to fill. You let out a sigh, stealing another look at the ticking clock. The food is ready, but with each passing minute, it grows cooler, just the unfamiliar feeling of disappointment settling in your chest. 

The audible twist of the key catches your attention, and you can't help but glance over your shoulder. Aaron walks in, his lips curving into a smile upon seeing you.

"Hi, my gorgeous girl," he greets, his voice a familiar sound that kindles a familiar flutter into your heart.

He places his briefcase down, the sound muted, and as he approaches, his lips brush a tender kiss against your temple. The annoyance that had been bubbling inside you melts away with his touch. Damn him.

You turn to him, a sheepish "Hi" fluttering out, your cheeks tinged with heat. It's a feeling that's always fresh, the way he still makes you feel like you're back in high school, hearts doodled in the margins of your notebook.

Aaron settles into his chair, the soft scrape of wood against the tile following his movements.

"Sorry 'M late," he offers, his tone warm, appreciative. "Everything looks and smells wonderful, honey. Thank you."

His fingers gently sweep a loose strand of hair from your face, his smile softening you, disarming you. He's so beautiful.

"You're welcome," you reply, your cheeks growing warmer with each word. "And, um, I hope it's okay. It might be a bit cold. I thought...I guess I assumed you'd be home sooner."

You voice trails off, leaving behind a trail of embarrassed concern, wondering if perhaps you'd somehow overstepped. 

Aaron looks at you, his eyes turning kind as he discerns the unease on your face.

"I'm sorry, baby, got held up with a little errand." He bites into the food, and a gratified hum indicates his approval. "This is delicious."

You find yourself beaming at the praise. He had a talent for that--praising you, almost as if he'd made it his life mission. This was a first for you in a relationship, and it's exactly why the late nights and time spent alone didn't weigh so heavily. 

After dinner, you're rinsing off the plates when Aaron's hands draw you close, his hands claiming your waist, the heat of his palms radiating through the fabric of your shirt. He plants a soft kiss on your shoulder.

"Let me help with that. You're spoiling me," he insists, his words spoken into your damp skin.

You lean back into his embrace, his chest flush against your back.

"I like taking care of you," you admit, heart skipping a beat under the weight of his gaze, the softness in his eyes dissolving your concentration on the task at hand. 

A deep, affectionate groan escapes Aaron as he pulls you even closer. But all good things come to an end, and the ringing of his phone seems like an icy intrusion, like a sudden draft into the kitchen.

"Hotchner," he answers, and even though the word leaves his lips, his fingers gently sketch patterns across your hip. 

You feel your heart sink. When he hangs up, his eyes lock with yours, brimming with an apology he doesn't voice. It's unnecessary, you already know.

"A case?" You hate how small your voice sounds, dipped in an understanding you wish you didn't have.

He nods, a simple stupid gesture that sends a lump of disappointment soaring up your throat, which you desperately try to swallow down. 

"Okay... just, be careful, okay? I'll miss you."

"And I'll miss you, angel. Be good for me."

There's a hollowness in the house that follows you through each room. You were well aware of Aaron's demanding job when you started dating--the unpredictable schedule, the sudden departures, the cases that required his immediate attention. Still, this awareness did nothing to soften to sting of his absence. At all. 

You found yourself wandering aimlessly, picking up a book only to set it down unread, starting a movie but not really watching. Eventually, you ended up in the bedroom, his bedroom, where the subtle scent of his cologne lingers. It's both comforting and heart-wrenching. God, you felt like you were being so dramatic.

You climb into the bed, the sheets cool against your skin, too big and empty without him. Your eyes darts to the phone resting on the nightstand. You've always been careful not to disturb him while he's working, but tonight felt different.

With a trembling hand, you pick up the phone, your thumb hovering indecisively over the screen. Reluctantly, you returned it to its place. There was no point in bothering him.

A sudden draft sent a shiver up your spine, reminding you of the blanket Hotch had bought for you a couple months ago. You sighed, rising from the bed and moving to the closet.

But your eyes skipped over the blanket, instead fixating on a shiny pink bag tucked away in a secluded corner. Compelled by a spike of curiosity, you grabbed the bag and pulled it open. Your eyes widened, cheeks burning with a sudden flush as you placed it on the bed. How long had this been hiding here? And the timing--just after your conversation with Penelope--felt almost too uncanny. 

You went back to your phone.

Hi

The message was simple. You hit send before you can second-guess yourself.

Almost immediately, your phone vibrated--Aaron's name illuminated the screen. You answer, and his voice was there, infused with immediate concern.

"Hi honey. You okay?" His question was straightforward, cutting through the noise.

You nodded, forgetting for a moment he couldn't see you. Shifting on the bed, you said softly, "Um, yeah, I'm fine. I didn't mean to bother you. Is it a bad time?"

His response is quick. "You could never bother me."

A blush flares on your cheeks, and a smile instinctively forms. You fidget on the bed, the sheets sighing with your movements, sounds that don't escape Aaron's attentive detection.

"Can't seem to find the right spot without me there, huh?"

"I can't seem to do a lot of things without you here," you grumble under your breath, intended more for yourself than for him. The bed emits a soft creak as you turn again, your breath hitching in a pout that he can almost see through the phone. "Aaron, I found something in the closet..."

You lost your words, fingertips tracing the toy's edge, as you fumbled with the strings of your shorts.

"Hmm? Care to enlighten me."

"You know."

You weren't in the mood for his teasing, because you knew he knew. You could sense his smugness, his voice dripping into that familiar, velvety register that prompted your lips to purse.

"I don't know, sweetheart."

Once again, you found yourself stirring against the linen, nibbling on your lip as a wave of exasperation washed over you, your eyes rolling into their sockets.

"Where are you?"

"Just got to my hotel room." You could hear the subtle movements in the background, accompanied by the soft groans of the mattress under his weight. "What did you find in the closet that was so urgent you needed to text me in the middle of my case?"

Your face was warm. "You said it wasn't a bother."

"And I meant it, now spell it out for me."

Your hands cautiously pushed over the toy, examining its buttons and sides. Subconsciously, your tongue swept over your top teeth. You lowered your voice as though someone else might overhear.

"The toy...is it for me? I mean, I would hope so. If not, well, we'd have a rather awkward issue."

"Yes, it's for you, baby."

You stifled a grin. How could he have known? That profiling business was really no joke.

"Why?"

His muffled chuckle filtered through, and you could almost see the flash of his pearly whites. You really missed him, so much so that you were conjuring vision of his mouth of his on places that should not be said aloud. 

"I just want to make sure my best girl is taken care of when I'm not home." You could practically hear the smirk on his lips.

You were deep in your fantasy now, your free hand sliding down your shorts as you envisioned him propped against the headboard of his hotel bed, tie hanging loosely, hair tousled just so.

"I'm always taken care of by you, Aaron," you said quietly.

You didn't know how to go about this, whatever this even was. You were treading into unknown territory; never having had phone sex with Aaron--or anyone for that matter.  It was a far cry from the occasional suggestive text.

"That's right." His voice flowed like honey in your ear, causing a shiver as your finger skimmed over your underwear, your breathing momentarily faltering. "You're going to be well taken care of for the rest of your life, yeah?"

"Yeah."

You could hardly breathe, squirming against your own touch, glancing over at the toy that sat beside your hip.

"I want you to know how much I appreciate your patience. You're a good girl, honey. Far too good for me." You weren't. It was the other way around; you didn't deserve him. You told yourself that every day. "I know you get lonely, and I know it's something you'd never admit to."

"Aaron..."

He didn't let you finish. "Why don't you tell me what you're doing right now?"

Your actions came to an abrupt standstill, thumb suspended above your clothed clit. You entertained the thought that this FBI gig might have been a front for a psychic, maybe one of those fortune teller types.

You were mumbling into your sleeve, a private conversation with the threads. "Just...um, well it's hardly worth mentioning, honestly."

Wow you're sure you fooled him.

"I'm not fond of dishonesty." The low rumble of his voice sent a tremor through your core. "I'm giving you a final chance. Tell me what you're doing, sweetheart."

A hard swallow passed your throat, your thumb rubbing idle circles into the band of flesh on your hip. 

"Well, I, uh, was touching myself." The words felt as awkward as they sounded, an internal wince accompanying each syllable at how unsexy you were speaking.

"Where, sweetheart?"

You exhaled sharply at the question, heavy with exasperation at his insistence on drawing this out. But the slickness between your legs was undeniable. Your hand slid back to the delicate skin between your thighs.

"Aaron, please," you breathed out so faintly it was almost inaudible.

He was playing a cruel game, and he knew it. You hardly cussed let alone talk about your lady parts so openly.

"I hope I've never given you a reason to feel judged, honey." There was a sweetness in his voice that masked his darker intentions. "Just tell me where. I want to help."

Your tongue flicked nervously across your lip, your finger dipping into the valley of your folds as you mulled over his offer. You were wet, far more than you had anticipated, practically coating your thighs in the process.

"No, 'course not," you said softly, biting back a sigh as your thumb worked slowly against your inflamed clit. "It's just, you're so far, Aaron."

"Why do you think I got you that toy?" Your gaze darted to the pink thing, resting against your hip. "I want you to use it. I'll walk you through it, just like I would in person."

You could melt. You could liquefy into nothingness on the spot. Your fingers pressed more urgently against yourself, a deep-seated wish for him to be here surfacing, knowing all the while it was a baseless hope.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

"There you go, that's my girl."

You couldn't hold back the whimper that fell from your lips as you arched against the bed, fingers diving into your cunt.

"My needy girl," he repeated, his laughter resonating with a patronizing tone that oddly egged you on. "Alright, can you pick up the toy for me?"

You wedged the phone snugly between your shoulder and ear, your hand closing around the pink, curved object, scrutinizing its every detail with careful eyes.

"Okay."

It was big, not as big as Aaron, but its dimensions were nonetheless imposing. You felt your chest heave in anticipation, waiting for his instructions.

His silence was stretching your patience thin. You turned it on, and it came to life, watching as it vibrated, the soft buzz permeating the space. You let it trail over your stomach, fabric gathering as your shirt rode up. Nearing your clit, you braced, taking in a quick breath.

But that breath was released in a strangled moan as you pushed the toy firmly into your sopping hole, legs spreading expansively as a taut sensation gripped your center.

"Did I say you could use it already?" he questioned, his tongue clicking in disapproval as you strained against the device, the second prong vibrations coursing against your nub, your whole-body jerking in response.

"N-No, 'M sorry," you panted, your focus narrowing as you pushed to toy in and out, your lips rounding into an 'o'. "It feels really good, Aar."

"I'm sure it does, baby," he teased, his voice carrying a certainty that your own lacked. "Let me hear you fuck yourself with it.

You loved hearing him curse, it was rare, and usually reserved for intimate moments like this. It fueled your actions, your wrist quickening, driving the device deeper, your stomach twisting in tight knots, a loud moan escaping unrestrained, suddenly you were thankful for the distance between Aaron's house and the next.

It felt so good, and yet somehow still not comparable to how it was with Aaron. Weren't you spoiled?

"Miss you so much," you slurred, your movements stuttering as the device worked your body in ways you didn't know were possible.

"Miss you too, angel. You're doing so good."

"Can you, ah, come home, p-please?"

You weren't even sure of what you were saying, all your thoughts on chasing your high and pretending the toy was Aaron's cock. Thinking about how he'd fill you up right now, how he'd press you to the mattress, how his body would cover yours.

"Your present isn't enough?" His tone was taunting, your eyes welling with tears, clouding your vision as your hips bucked against the toy. "That's a shame, sweetheart, think maybe you've been a little spoiled. You can't have my cock all the time."

You were completely dazed, his sentences barely making their way through the fog as you'd like them to. You were crying, you think, hot and relentless tears carving a path down your face as you fucked yourself harder against the toy.

The noises coming from your pussy were obscene, soaked and squishing as you tried to respond to Aaron, but nothing but small hiccups were escaping your mouth.

"It's okay, baby, I know. You're doing so good for me. I can hear it."

Your cheeks and ears flared with a heat that spelled out your shame, but it was the least of your concerns. Your walls tightened against the device, the pressure on your clit suddenly all too much and not enough at the same time. Gasping for air, your breaths came out in uneven bursts. When you tried to call out Aaron's name, it emerged as nothing more than a choked sob.

"C-Can I? Please, need to so bad." You weren't entirely convinced you were speaking English, but Aaron understood. 

"Go ahead, sweetheart."

That was all you needed. Your cunt contracted again before vaulting over the edge, nearly losing consciousness in the process, a string of moans and half-said words pouring out of your lips.

You could hear the sound of his voice, but the words were just out of reach, not fully making sense. You felt your body twitch, and you blinked deliberately, once, twice, three times, in an effort to reconnect your body to your mind.

"You're so good, baby. So good. Miss you so much."

You pulled the toy, now soaked, from yourself, cringing at the lewd sound as you laid it beside you, making a mental note to wash the sheets later. Although if Aaron had his way that wouldn't happen.

"I miss you." You hated the way your voice betrayed ever emotion you had.

"Need you to go pee for me, sweetheart."

He sounded so soft and tired, but somehow still present. You let out a soft snicker as you curled onto your side. 

"Can't move my legs," you mumbled, the sound muffled by the way your cheek was squished into the pillow. "Need you to come carry me."

His laugh was something you wished you could bottle up. "Spoiled."

"And who's to blame for that?" You were ready for his witty retort, but it was cut short by the sudden flash of your phone. You squinted at the caller ID. "Sorry, Penelope is calling me, can I call you back in a second?"

"Course, honey. Thank her for the idea, yeah?" Your mouth fell open as you scrambled for the right words. Of course he had heard. "Also, I plan on spending a few solid hours fucking you when I get home, so I suggest you get some rest."

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

[miyukisu]

Freak Like Me .ᐟ kinktober ‘24 masterlist inspired by doja cat ❤︎ ╰ incl. kaiju no. 8, jujutsu kaisen, blue lock, bungo stray dogs, haikyuu

a/n - All works are p*rn with plot and written with afab! reader. Read the tags before proceeding with each fic just in case there's a trope included that you're not comfortable with. Masterlist will be updated throughout the month.

1 | On Camera - Cybersex ╰ Now Playing: Cybersex

❤︎ Narumi Gen (Kn8) x reader ╰ You just love teasing your best friend—even better now that he's frustrated and can only see you through a screen (2.1k wc)

2 | I Might Bite - Punishment ╰ Now Playing: Won't Bite

❤︎ Hoshina Soshiro (Kn8) x reader ╰ Resorting to dirty measures like biting your superior during sparring usually doesn't end without you having a taste of your own medicine... (2.6k wc)

3 | Talk Like That - Degradation ╰ Now Playing: Talk Dirty

❤︎ Hiromi Higuruma (JJK) x reader ╰ Who would have thought that your quiet and stoic boss had such a dirty side to him? (2.7 wc)

4 | There Ain't No Man Like You - Shower Sex ╰ Now Playing: Streets

❤︎ Toji Fushiguro (JJK) x reader ╰ People normally talk it out when they have a feud with someone, but you two? You decide to bury the hatchet by showering together (2.2k wc)

5 | Took Me For a Ride - Cockwarming ╰ Now Playing: Ride

❤︎ Geto Suguru (JJK) x reader ╰ It's raining pretty hard outside—good thing there are more ways than one when it comes to warming yourselves up... (1.6k wc)

6 | Between Me and You - Exhibitionism ╰ Now Playing: Often

❤︎ Michael Kaiser (Bllk) x reader ╰ While your other friends are enjoying themselves on your little camping trip, you and Kaiser were secretly fucking around (3k wc)

7 | If You're Down, Boy - Hate Sex ╰ Now Playing: Go To Town

❤︎ Karasu Tabito (Bllk) x reader ╰ Karasu thinks you've got quite a mouth on you—time for him to show you what he can do with his too and make you shut up (3k wc)

8 | Breakfast in Bed - Somnophilia ╰ Now Playing: Morning Light

❤︎ Sae Itoshi (Bllk) x reader ╰ Trouble in paradise? Well, Sae has an early morning treat for you to fix that (2.5k wc)

9 | Need Your Lips On Mine - Edging ╰ Now Playing: Kiss Me More

❤︎ Dazai Osamu (BSD) x reader ╰ You'd think he'd be more enthusiastic to get his hands on you because of the whole 'secret relationship' thing, but maybe it's time to turn the tables (2.3k wc)

10 | Better Bite the Bullet - First Times ╰ Now Playing: Gun

❤︎ Iwaizumi Hajme (Hq) x reader ╰ He's just trying to be a good best friend by teaching you a useful skill in life... blowjobs (2k wc)

©miyukisu do not repost/reupload/translate any of my works on other platforms

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

ring camera chronicles - Nico Hischier

Word Count - 1700

Requested - Yes

Author's Note - Even if someone requests it I think this will be my last ring camera type fic. I am someone who hates reusing ideas for different players, and it was really hard to come up with 7 original ideas for Nico. But anyway enjoy and thank you for reading.

Warnings - none

Summary - Seven times that Nico's and your ring camera caught cute 'mundane' moments between you both.

Masterlist

Being Nico’s girlfriend naturally meant that you sort of organized lunches with the other wags and tried to keep up to date with them. At first you hated it because you weren’t an influencer, you had a normal job and being a planner wasn’t part of the job. But after a while you did become close friends with a few of the girls including Jack’s girlfriend. Who was now sitting across from you as she updated all of you on her latest mess with having a ring camera. All about how she didn’t want Jack to catch her having all these packages so you went to sneak them in, and got Nico and Luke to help her. Only to find out in the moment that she actually used Jack’s card and he really didn’t seem to care. The entire table was crying in laughter, especially when you mentioned that Nico was still a little salty about it 2 weeks later. Luke’s girlfriend went on to say how much she loves having her ring and how it catches so many cute mundane moments that people tend to forget about, plus it was fun to mess with her boyfriend. Deciding in that moment that you also wanted a ring doorbell to be able to mess with Nico, all you had to do was convince Nico. 

Once you got home you shyly mentioned to Nico, “ hey Neeks I was thinking why don’t we get a ring camera?” He doesn’t even look up from playing with your puppy and says “okay.” 

“Wait really?” The shock is clear in your voice. 

Still playing tug-a-war with the rope toy and currently losing, he answers “ yeah if you want plus it makes sense I mean I have one at home for our other flat it makes sense to have one for here. Especially since we are out of the country for 3 months a year.” 

“Wait, there is a camera for your place in Swittsland?” Generally shocked that you somehow didn’t know this information. 

“Yes. Did you think I didn’t have cameras if I only lived there 3 months a year? Anyway I’ll order some tomorrow.” As he gets up, and kisses you on the head before he goes to the bedroom to get ready for the gym, leaving a hyper puppy who wants to play and a shocked girlfriend behind. 

1.) One last thing

It’s something neither you nor Nico even realized that you did. But when it came to those roadies that he would leave the apartment for, rather than you drive him to the airport. Somehow whether it was 5 in the morning or 5 in the afternoon, you always would run out the apartment and almost tackle him for one last hug before he would leave. Snuggling your head into his chest. He would snuggle into the crown of your neck and you would whisper something about having safe travels and good luck. It didn’t matter if the roadie was for a weekend or two weeks you always ran out of the apartment calling after Nico saying “one last thing” before you tackled him for your hug. Once you got a ring camera you noticed and you asked your videographer friend to edit all the clips together so you and Nico could keep it and watch it back.

2.) I”ll always got you

“Baby, are you sure you wanna wear those shoes?” Nico asks as you both get ready to leave to meet the rest of the team and their significant others done the street at the local bar. 

“Yeah, why aren’t they cute?” as you check your outfit one last time doing a twirl in the mirror that’s in your little makeshift foyer of your apartment. 

“I’m not saying your new shoes aren’t cute, they just aren’t broken in and I don’t want your feet to hurt later.” He admits coming and wrapping his arms around you. 

“But their sneakers.” you whine. 

“Yes sneakers meant for fashion” he argues. 

“Says the man who wears Jordans when he goes hiking.” To which he gives you a knowing look and you don’t want to get into the fact he’s “built differently as a European.” Even if it’s 100 percent true because that evaluation ain’t meant for the weak even in the cities. 

“I’ll be fine.” you whisper as you both exit the apartment. He jokingly looks at the ring camera and says “you got that right she will be fine.” 

Now a few hours later, the ring camera picks up you guys coming home and you were in fact being carried by Nico at this point. A very sweaty and out of breath Nico. In your tipsy state all you could do is laugh as you attempted to unlock the door, at Nico literally hands on knees trying to catch his breath. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be a professional athletic Neeks.” 

“Professional athlete does not mean I should carry a very tipsy girl who wouldn’t stop shifting her weight almost a whole kilometer home and not be out of breath.” he counters and all you can do is chuckle finally getting the door unlocked. Nico looks directly at the camera and says “I just wanna state for the people, that she was in fact NOT FINE with those shoes.” 

“Neeks what people only we have access to the footage.” you giggle.

He rolls his eyes and although you’re not sure what he said you know he cursed at you in Swiss German under his breath as you both stumbled into your apartment.

3.) Baby it’s here!

Nico came up from the mailroom with a giant package in his hands. He's so excited he rings the doorbell even though he knows your at work because the care package finally arrived. 

“BABY IT’S HERE!” not caring how loud he sounded to his neighbors. “Ooo I am so excited I know she set some of my favorite Swiss chocolate and other candy too.” Nico had the biggest smile on his face, you swear when you watched it back on your break he looked more excited then a toddler waking up on Christmas morning to see what Santa left him. 

Deciding to text him to tell him not to eat too much before dinner even though you know there is really no point because, when it came to candy from home and Nico he will always eat as much as his sister is willing to send in one sitting

4.) Are you alright?

Nico gets a notification while he is away on a roadie for “movement in front of camera.” Since he was already dressed and ready for practice he decided to check the notification. He noticed it was you coming home at an earlier time than normal and you didn’t look good. Immediately he’s Facetiming you in the locker room, making sure you have everything you need and even doing a Doordash CVS order to your apartment with a bunch of different flavors of gatorade and Mucinex. Nico has his full pout because he is very worried about his girlfriend who is getting sick and the fact that he is 2000 miles away. 

5.) You didn’t see that

 After being exhausted after a long day of work and running a bunch of errands. The last thing you wanted to do was make multiple trips down the elevator to the parking garage to get all the groceries, your work bag, your lunch box and purse. Of course as soon as you pass the mailroom you see that you received a few Amazon packages. Again deciding one trip was better than multiple you somehow balance the boxes and make your way to the elevator. But of course as soon as you get to the front door as you're trying to reach for your keys to unlock the door everything tumbles. Without even thinking you deadpan to the camera   “ you didn’t see that.” But then you wince because of course you hear Nico’s loud laugh through the ring microphone. Of course in that exact moment he decided to check to make sure you got home okay since he knows you have anxiety driving at night when the roads are icy. 

6.) Shhhh will you some people are sleeping!

After coming home around 2 AM due to a delayed plane because of bad weather he finally comes home from his weekend roadie. Of course the ring camera starts to record as soon as it detects motion, recording how slow Nico is being trying to sneak into the apartment. But of course he somehow forgot about your 10 month Bernese Mountain puppy who starts barking at the top of his lungs. Running to attack Nico because he was so happy that “dad was home.” Of course the camera caught everything including Nico cursing in German for his failed attempts. But then he’s picking up your very big puppy trying to get him to quiet down because “hey don’t you know its 2 AM, your mama trying to sleep bubs.” . The next morning when you see a new notification on your phone from ring and you see Nico trying his hardest to be quiet you can’t help but chuckle and your chest swell a little at how sweet Nico was trying to be and how adorable he always is with your guys puppy. 

7.) Give me my puppy update

Everyday when he’s away on a roadie he demands to see an update on how much your little 20 lb Bernese Mountain puppy has grown on his way back in from his morning walk. He loves it when he’s actually able to catch the update in real time and talking through the camera catching how confused and excited the little puppy is because he hears dad’s voice but doesn’t see him. After a while attempting to pick up the very big puppy becomes such a struggle. It becomes Nico’s favorite part of his day watching you try to pick up the little rascal because he really only likes it when Nico picks him up. He loves hearing you complain to the dog that you are picking him up to show him to Nico. But every single time all the puppy does is schrick in refusal and you huff finally giving up. After 3 days in a row when your dog was around 10 months of that same pattern you told Nico that he’s going to have to settle on videos because fighting this dog to participate everyday in your daily vlogs was taking longer than it actually was to stand in front of the doorbell.

[mostlymarvelsstuff]

Reader receives Nats nudes accidentally

Authors note: Just in case you didn't see, you can now buy me a coffee/commission something. See this post for more info 🥰

Authors note 2.0: trying out a new thing with a drabble series

Word count: 803

Marvel Masterlist Natasha Masterlist How They React To Masterlist

   A while ago, Tony had been feeling generous and had offered to update everyone's personal computers. And Nat was definitely in need of an upgrade, she was still using the old laptop she was first given when she joined SHIELD years ago. It still ran, which she was grateful for, but it did lack speed and some other niceties. So she took him up on said offer.

   Which is why she now finds herself sitting at her desk with two laptops in front of her while she transfers over her multitude of files and data. It's a bit of a tedious task to go back through everything and find out what is actually worth keeping, what's important and what can be trashed before she hands it back over to Hill, but in the end it’ll be worth it. 

   She's just finishing up now, sending over the last few miscellaneous things. But what she hadn’t realized was that she had not selected her new computer as a transfer location this time, but had selected your computer. Likely unnoticed because she had forgotten about even connecting her laptop to yours during your last mission, and because her eyesight was beginning to get strained after so many hours of sitting here. Regardless, off they went, and she was none the wiser

   Meanwhile you're just returning to your desk from a much needed break when you see the file transfer notification light up. This confuses you, as you hadn’t asked anyone to send anything over, nor had anyone told you to expect anything. But since you apparently have some more things to attend to, you sit back down and open the file. This proves to be of little help however, because nothing is labeled. All you know is that it contains several documents and one picture. 

   You decide to open the picture first, as it would hopefully not require reading. It's clearly been taken in a dimly lit room so it takes a second for your eyes to adjust to the darkened screen to discern anything, but soon enough you're greeted with the side profile of a naked woman. This confuses you even more, but you find yourself unable to tear your eyes away. And that's how you spot it, a small scar to the left of the belly button

   “Oh my god!” you exclaim as you register who you're seeing, and you quickly close the tab

   Your hands start sweating as you wrack your brain for a rational explanation. You knew Nat was a playful flirt, the two of you did so all the time. But to send an explicit picture, unprompted, and by file transfer at that, just didn’t make sense. That's when you remembered the other contents of the file, and you quickly skim through them to see if they would be of any help piecing things together. When you discover that they are just after mission reports and weapons specs your hunch of it being unintentional is confirmed. Now, you just had to figure out what to do about it

   A few minutes later, you're standing outside the redhead's door as anxiety bubbles inside you. But you fight through it and knock. 

   “Come in!”

   She's turned enough in her desk chair to see who's entering and a wide smile spreads across her face as she registers that it's you. You feel guilty now, because you have a feeling your demeanor and what you have to say will cause that smile to falter, but you need to do this. Afterall, you’d want someone to be forthcoming if they received something like this of you.

   “Uh, hi Nat” 

   She notices your nervousness, but sets aside the observation for now “Hey Y/n, what's up?”

    “I think you accidentally sent me a few of your things during that last file transfer”

   “Oh, shit. Sorry about that, I’ve been at this for a few hours now and I guess I hit yours by mistake” she explains, “I didn’t even realize we were still connected”

   “Neither had I. But Nat, there was a picture of you among the documents”

   “Yeah? I hope it was a good one at least” she jokes, not realizing what you were trying to say. You're silent for a moment too long however, because she fully turns her chair to look at you, with her brows furrowed with worry, “Y/n, what's wrong with the picture?”

   “Nothings wrong with it!” you reply, a little too enthusiastically when you think about what's yet to come, “It's just that, well…. You're naked”

   Her face turns a shade of pink you’d never seen before, and her head swims with insecurities and nervousness. But she manages to bring out an air of confidence and gives you a sultry smirk

  “So, answer the question. Was it a good picture?”

Taglist:@wandaromamoff69 @mmmmokdok @nataliasknife @natashasilverfox @when-wolves-howl @danveration @naomi-m3ndez @sheneonromanoff @sayah13 @likefirenrain @nighttime-dreaming @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @readings-stuff @chaoticevilbakugo @crystalstark02 @wackymcstupid @xchaiix @iaminluvwithnat @lovelyy-moonlight @blackwidow-3 @mistressofinsomnia @that-one-gay-mosquito @yomamagf @yourfavdummy @justarandomreaderxoxo @scoutlp23-blog @whoischanelle15 @lissaaaa145 @eline03 @wizardofstories @imthenatynat @marvelonmymind @fluffyblanketgecko @bitch-616 @dakotastormm  @zoomdeathknight @rayeofmoonlight @aeroae @sashawalker2

[adragonprinceswhore]

Rumours

Aemond Targaryen x (Ex)wife

Chapter I: The Chain 🎼 Masterlist

Summary: Three months after leaving him, your inevitable reunion with your soon-to-be ex-husband Aemond isn’t as bad as you thought it’d be.

Warnings: 18+, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, angst, toxic relationship dynamic, possessive Aemond, depictions of anxiety, allusions to smut

Word count: 3000

A/N: Edited and done, please enjoy 🩵 Thank you my love @theoneeyedprince for giving this a look-through for me 🫶

Breathe.

In. Hold three seconds. Out. Hold three seconds. In. Hold three seconds. Out.

You haven’t been able to eat anything all morning, far too nauseous to keep even a piece of toast down.

The breathing exercise your therapist had taught you does little to help you calm down.

You’ve felt anxious before, but rarely this intense.

It’s so physical.

You feel it in your stomach turning, chest contracting, hands tingling, head spinning.

You knew you’d have to meet him sooner or later.

Afterall, you’d both decided to stay in the band. You’d just started to gain traction, embarking on your first ever tour across the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros.

A once in a lifetime opportunity for an up-and-coming band.

Still, knowing that didn’t make it easier to turn the handle of the door and walk into the studio.

Knowing he’ll be there.

You hadn’t seen your husband, Aemond, in over three months now.

Soon to be ex-husband.

You’d honestly expected the process to be speedier; you hadn’t demanded anything from him, the only thing important to you was that you kept all legal rights you had in relation to the band; the rights to your songs. And he hadn’t really given any conditions himself, yet his solicitors took ages contacting yours.

That’s all you’d heard from him over the summer. Updates from your legal advisers about his.

You’d blocked his number after leaving the divorce papers at your shared flat and moved out, tired of your phone overheating from the amount of times he’d tried calling you.

In the end, Alicent, your mother-in-law, had phoned you, begging you to please meet with her son and talk it out. You told her that you’d already talked plenty and there was no point in continuing indulging in pointless discussion. You’d always gotten along well with Alicent, so having her call you to do her son’s bidding felt so unbelievably awkward. He’d always been such a mama’s boy.

With one final, shaky exhale, you turn the handle of the door and push it open, stepping into the hallway.

With the door ajar, you can hear chatter from the studio.

Everyone’s already here.

Good, then you’d just have to suck it up and face them. Like ripping off a band-aid; only painful for a second.

You spot Helaena first. She gives you a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes, and straightens up slightly.

You’d met her a few times in the last months; brainstorming song ideas and recording vocals together in the studio.

Besides playing the piano, she wrote songs and sang for the band, just like you and Aemond. She hadn’t asked you anything about him, which you were thankful for. You know she’s anxious about how the dynamic in the band will shift now that the two of you have separated. And her anxiety materialises in the way she starts picking at her nail beds as soon as she sees you emerge through the door.

Next to Helaena sits Jace, who plays bass for the band. He gives you a half-hearted smile, accompanied by tense shoulders and a murmured greeting.

Across the table from him is Erryk, drummer and the newest addition to the band. He seems to not sense the tension that hangs heavy in the room and smiles at you until his eyes crinkle.

His obliviousness almost makes you laugh. It nearly manages to cut through the uncomfortable tension, until your eyes travel to lock with the last person in the room.

You knew that Aemond wouldn’t cause a scene and act infuriatingly indifferent towards you.

You knew that he’d give you a nod and get straight down to business.

Still, you feel a sliver of satisfaction when your predictions turn out to be true.

“So, everyone’s done with recording their parts?”, he asks the room.

He’s already pulled out his laptop, quick fingers typing as he waits for confirmation.

Though the tense atmosphere never really leaves the room, you all collectively try to power through as you discuss how recording went and what else needs to be fixed before the album is ready.

Due to your and Aemond’s separation, and the tumultuous events leading up to it, the band had agreed that everyone would record their vocals and instruments separately; putting everything together in production later. This had slowed down the process significantly, resulting in you being far from done with the album your label wanted you to release at the end of the month.

“As you know, the label isn’t too pleased with the fact that we haven’t finished the album yet-”, Aemond says, eyes still on the screen of his laptop; both his seeing eye and the unmoving one covered by a layer of white mist,

“-But they’ve asked us if we’d be willing to perform some new songs during the tour, to boost sales and get the hype up”

His voice is stoic, every utterance straight to the point. You sit on his blind side, with Helaena between your chair and his, and you take the opportunity of knowing he can’t clearly see you to examine him, searching for any changes since you last laid eyes on him, when his knuckles were bloody and panic reflected in his lilac eye.

He looks exactly like he always does; infuriatingly handsome.

His long, silvery hair hangs loose over his shoulders. His long eyelashes cast down as he inspects the screen of his laptop. His aquiline nose slopes beautifully to meet his perfectly pouty lips, begging to be kissed-

Fuck, stop!

Truth be told, you’d put extra effort into looking your best today, spending an hour on doing your makeup and picking out the perfect outfit. Hopefully you’d succeeded in making it appear much less intentional than it was, suddenly feeling a flash of embarrassment wash over you.

Why do you care what he thinks anymore?

The meeting goes on for another hour. The band’s manager, Tyland Lannister, joins in after 20 minutes, briefing the band members on the upcoming tour. Opening night’s in one week, on Dragonstone, and you’ll all fly out the morning of the show.

As the members of the band prepare to leave the studio, the tension that had previously felt so crushing is now only lingering in the periphery.

Jace and Erryk talk excitedly about all the places they’ll visit during the tour; what they wanted to eat and what they wanted to see. For a second it almost feels like things are back to normal, like the last three months never happened.

As everyone makes their separate ways home, you spot Aemond walk up to a black car and quickly jump in the passenger seat.

Your stomach turns.

You only see a flash of her black hair before the car drives away. The mask of indifference you’d put on cracks slightly at the sight of them together.

You wanted the divorce, idiot.

It still hurts seeing him move on though. He’d done it so quickly; uncharacteristically so.

The first week after you’d left, he blew up your phone trying to get a hold of you.

Despite his inexcusable behaviour, there had been times when you felt guilty for leaving him so abruptly. Even though you knew he deserved it, you also knew that leaving him and refusing to talk to him would drive him insane. What you hadn’t expected was that he’d go and get a new girl a mere week after Alicent had called you.

Seeing them together in real life made you feel exactly as you did when your friend Alysanne had sent you the link to the 30 second video two and a half months ago.

Nauseous.

The video showed Aemond getting out of a taxi in front of a new and chic Braavosi bistro downtown. It was opening night and a few local news sources were there to report. One of the journalists had recognised Aemond, clearly intrigued by the fact that the still-married bandman rounded the taxi and offered his hand to a beautiful dark-haired woman stepping out. As they walked towards the entrance, the reporter chased them down, microphone in hand and cameraman in tow.

“Aemond Targaryen? Already moving on after the separation I see?”, the reporter half-shouts behind Aemond to get his attention.

His date turns around in response to the comment, smiling as her emerald gaze observes the reporter. The news of your separation had been speculated on a few minor fansites after someone leaked an email from your solicitor's office, but neither you nor Aemond had made any statement about it.

He wasn’t planning on giving one now either, unimpressed eye giving the reporter a once-over before huffing in amusement and gesturing for his date to follow him inside.

The reporter, set on getting an answer from the rising star, chuckles before forcefully shoving the microphone in Aemond’s face,

“Women come and go, is that the case?”, he presses with a cheeky wink.

Aemond huffs out a laugh, “Yeah, something like that”, he says, wrapping his arm around his date’s shoulders as he leads her into the restaurant.

You’d later learn that the date from that night was his new manager, Alys Rivers.

Funny how he’d gotten a manager to handle his possible solo work.

Six months prior, when you’d been approached by a talent scout asking if you’d ever thought of doing solo stuff on the side, Aemond had been absolutely livid. After giving the agent a few well-chosen words, he had stormed off, leaving you upset and confused.

It was ultimately his jealousy and possessiveness that broke your marriage, getting to a point where you felt like you couldn’t be with him any longer. Neither as a lover nor a friend.

Now, the only place he can take in your life is as your bandmate; business partner, and nothing more.

You’d seriously considered leaving the band when you decided on leaving him. Still, somewhere deep inside you can’t shake this feeling that what your band has is something unique; something you won’t find anywhere else.

You and Aemond had started the band with Helaena right around the time you’d first met.

The three of you quickly bonded over your shared vision of what kind of music you’d like to make. On top of that, your voices sounded so good together, Aemond providing structure with his precision while you focused on conveying raw emotions.

So you decided to stick it out, work with your ex-husband in order to make the music that you wanted.

You’re an artist. All artists suffered for their art, right? You’d just have to suck this up and get on with it; continue to create art. And the pain would be worth it.

Besides, truth be told, you’d never met anyone quite as talented as Aemond. You’d never met anyone else who understood the music you wanted to create quite like he did.

When it came to music, you two almost had a telepathic connection. As someone who relies a lot on intuition and ‘that feeling in your gut’, you found it hard to describe music and your visions for it in general. But with Aemond you never needed to; he understood. Two minds wired the same.

Unfortunately, that wordless communication only stretched as far as music.

You think back to one of the last conversations you had before you left him.

You’d tried to confront him about his temper and inability to keep his jealousy in check, and he’d promptly ignored you; defaulting into shutting you out.

Exhausted, you resorted to the only solution you could come up with.

“Maybe we should spend some time apart, let things cool down a bit”, you try, purposefully making your voice as gentle as possible.

Aemond, who’d been staring out the window of your apartment in contemplative rage, quickly turns to face you, expression impassive but one eye furious.

“If you want some ‘time apart’ you might as well get on with it and leave”, he says, voice chilly. Sometimes when he’s angry, he sounds so hateful it hurts your heart.

“What do you want me to do Aemond?”, you reply, patience running thin as anger overcomes you, “You don’t allow me to live my life, you hinder any chance of growth I have-”,

“Growth!? What else do you need?”, he spits back. “Do you understand what it means to be married to someone? I do fucking everything for you, you’re my wife!”

“Sure, chain me to our marriage. Keep me shackled to you forever, that’s what you want, isn’t it? While you fuck around town, relishing in the freedom you never allow me”

Your agitated voice matches his. You know your words will hurt him.

Aemond exhales loudly. His jaw’s shut tight and misty gaze piercing. He has a tendency to shut down during fights, especially when he doesn't have a snide remark waiting at the back of his mind.

Aemond’s eyes, locking yours in a death stare, narrow,

“So you want out?”

The flight to Dragonstone goes by in a flash, and after a quick soundcheck at the venue, the five members of Dragon Dreamers start getting ready for the show. 

You and Helaena do your usual routine of getting ready together, checking each other’s makeup and hair.

As the venue starts to fill up, the band gathers backstage, quickly running through your set one last time. You try to shoot a covert glance at Aemond, but he immediately finds your eyes. As always, he looks impeccable.

“Since we’ve finished ‘The Chain’ in production, I suggest we play that as our opening number tonight. It’s fast-paced and will get the crowd moving”, Aemond states, looking at his bandmates for approval.

They all nod knowingly, catching you by surprise.

“I’m not sure I’m familiar with ‘The Chain’”, you say, trying to sound neutral though you suspect he chose a song you don’t know on purpose.

“It’s the one you did some backup vocals on in the studio”, Aemond replies, throwing you a quick look, “Me and Helaena can sing the verses and you can join in during the chorus”, he offers, moving to pick up his guitar, signalling that he’s done with the conversation.

Great, first song on opening night and you’ll stand there like a deer in headlights.

You sigh quietly and grab your tambourine. If you’re not going to sing you’ll at least try to join in by jamming a bit to the beat. Only one thing echoes in your mind,

Don’t let him get to you!

‘The Chain’ starts playing. Steady drums beat in a slow rhythm as Aemond plays a bluesy melody on his guitar, and you realise that it is one of the songs that you and he had worked on when you were still together.

Last time you heard it, you had worked out the melody, but not really pinned down the lyrics. Aemond must’ve taken it upon himself to finish it, completely steering away from the direction you thought the song would take.

‘Listen to the wind blow, watch the sun rise’

Why haven't you heard anything about this new edit?

A chill runs down your spine.

Has he re-written it to be about you?

‘Run in the shadows, damn your love, damn your lies’

Yes he has.

You and Aemond got married at sunrise by the Hightower summer house in Highgarden in June two years ago.

Aemond had proposed to you only five weeks prior, and being so in love that you couldn’t possibly imagine being separated for more than 15 minutes, you decided to tie the knot as quickly as possible.

You just wanted to be his.

That had been one of your fondest memories together; a small ceremony that was only yours.

Now, it leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

Memories rotting from within.

You hate it. You don’t want to think about that now.

Damn him. Damn his love. Damn his lies.

‘And if you don’t love me now, you will never love me again’

‘I can still hear you saying, “you would never break the chain”’

As he sings, he sounds so angry, his voice is almost foreign to you.

He usually tries to keep his emotions in check, even when performing. Probably too scared to be vulnerable enough to let people know he actually has feelings, you reckon.

You remember the song and the rapid pace it picks up. Trying to ignore what you think is Aemond staring at you from the side of the stage, you dance and sing to the song about your heartbreak.

You let the music consume you as you work the tambourine, dancing and spinning, trying to relish in the feeling of knowing your band had made a killer song.

The audience is loving it. You have never heard them this rowdy before, and you can see the entire venue dancing.

You keep going, trying to distract yourself so your gaze won’t travel to Aemond.

He had played a rough first version of the guitar solo he wanted to incorporate in the song for you when you were still together. It really was phenomenal, fitting perfectly with the climax of the song.

He’s an insanely skilled guitarist, never missing a note and always instinctively knowing exactly what melody will match the feel of a song.

The audience is loving it, screaming and dancing with you.

Feeling braver and with the adrenaline from the performance running through your veins, you come up to your mic and sing along with Aemond and Helaena, chanting in unison.

The three of you sound good, like you always do.

The realisation gives you comfort; there’s still hope for your band.

‘Chain, keep us together’

‘Running in the shadows’

You can do this.

A/N: Thank you for reading! 🫶

[disneyprincemuke]

bother figures * fem!driver

being the designated baby sister of the grid by default is never as easy as you think it would be

pairings: alex albon x fem!driver, max verstappen x fem!driver, george russell x fem!driver, lando norris x fem!driver

warnings: ugh annoying men

notes: this is hardly funny but like i've had to take inspiration from my bother-less life rn so i'm like rly going through it rn LMFAO and it's almost 5am here but as far as i'm concerned, it is night time somewhere so teCHNICALLY i'm not late to an update!

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

in the almost empty room, she sits in the corner seat as she taps away on her phone a message to reply to her siblings' group chat. she had arrived early for the driver's briefing and decided to take solace in the corner with a cup of hot chocolate.

she was enjoying the peace and serenity with the soft chatter in the background as she tried to lock herself in for the race weekend. that was until she felt a presence looming behind her with an aura she couldn't possibly ignore.

she slowly lifts her head up with a mean glare. she turns her head and meets max's blue eyes and sly grin. "what'cha doin'?"

she puts her phone on her lap as a scowl replaces her dead expression. "what do you want?"

"what are you doing?"

"does it hurt you when you see me and like... not do anything to annoy me?"

"yes, actually. i like talking to you."

"i just wanted to talk to ciara."

"now you can talk to me."

"but i don't really feel like doing that."

"why not? i'm here in front of you and not behind a phone screen. where's ciara?" he looks around, then at her with a beaming smile. "oh, would you look at that? not here."

"because she isn't an f1 driver."

"still not here to talk to you and provide you the joys of interacting with somebody face to face."

"max."

"(y/n)."

"times like these i remember you've got a younger sister."

"what's that got to do with anything?"

"you've mastered the practice of being annoying growing up, obviously. you're such a pro at it."

"how can you say that?" max cries, hand on his chest to feign hurt over her words. "i'm not annoying. please take that back!"

"you realise you made me stop my conversation with my lovely sisters because you saw me sitting alone."

max reaches out and pinches her cheek, grinning when blood rushes to her cheeks. "you were just looking a little lonely. just wanted to make you feel a little accommodated to, that's all."

she stares at him, lips pressed together. "okay, that's actually pretty sweet. i kinda feel bad now.”

“and you should!” max frowns, folding his arms over his chest. he leans back into his seat and rests one leg over the other. “you’re mean, you know?”

“i’m an oldest sister.”

“i’m an oldest brother.”

“i have three younger siblings that made me wanna shave my head bald.”

“that’s kinda crazy.”

“i know,” she sighs tiredly. but she smiles slightly. “but it’s kinda nice. with oscar and logan taking over those responsibilities growing up, we never had a moment of boredom at home.”

“cute!” max smiles. “if i lived with you growing up, you might’ve actually run away for good.”

“i could run away for good now if you’d like.”

“seb wouldn’t like that.”

“you’d have to deal with it. i’ll leave a note on my team’s fridge with your name on it.”

“you need to put the reason underneath. if not, your team will think you’re just naming the most handsomest driver on the grid,” max shakes his head in disappointment. “don’t wanna give off the wrong idea, you know?”

“if you say ‘handsomest’, it doesn’t need a ‘most’ before it,” she says, lips parted slightly at the atrocious grammar. if there’s one thing she can’t stand, it’s most definitely the reigning world champion making simply grammar mistakes. “you should get more sleep.”

“i do! i slept like 10 hours last night!”

“somehow i find that hard to believe with the bags under your eyes.”

“what are you two bickering about?” a hand lands itself on the back of her chair. carlos stands next to her with one hand on his hip. “i could hear you from the hallways.”

“damn, you should really keep it down, max,” she chuckles, sending him a shocked look before she clasps her hands together and rests it on her stomach. “you’re too loud.”

“i’m sure he meant you. you like… swallowed a mic as a kid,” max scoffs. he looks up at carlos. “tell me she was louder than me.”

carlos sighs. “you were loud on the same level, i believe.”

"see? i told you."

"you're moving in with logan?" alex's jaw drops, the tiktok video no his phone left to play on repeat as the younger girl dropped the news that logan's moving into her apartment. "mate, what?"

she looks up at him with a confused stare. "what?"

"i thought you said you didn't want people talking about you like that?" alex asks, raising an eyebrow. "people will definitely talk if you move in with a man."

she presses her lips together. "you've got a point, i suppose. but logan's my best friend. we've been talking about moving in together forever! since i was 15!"

"i'm just looking out for you, kid. you should really think this through," alex sighs as he slumps his shoulders. of course, he knows just how close she and logan are on a day-to-day basis. but people tend to be quite ruthless with women and he just can't see this going any other way. "you know how people are."

she sighs, shaking her head. "i don't know. i just don't think people would pay attention to that aspect of my life. i still deserve to make decisions that wouldn't be at risk of scrutiny, right?"

she takes a step forward towards alex. she hadn't exactly thought of the public implications that this would cause her. all she knew was that they'd talked about this for years and were ecstatic when logan shyly brought up their conversation from years ago.

"that's the basic that we all hope for," alex frowns. "but you know how people are. you've seen how they treat you just being here. imagine the chaos."

"maybe i'll just keep it under wraps and hope for the best," she suggests with a small smile on her face. "that could work, right? i don't wanna have to put down something i spent forever talking about."

"if you can keep it under wraps, i applaud you," alex smiles, slinging an arm around her shoulders. "and i thought you've had enough of men - why are you still moving in with one?"

"to save money, really," she smiles. "and with kidnapper and stubby at home... i think living with another person is best."

"but doesn't logan like dogs more?"

"yeah, but kidnapper's taken a very weird liking to him. he doesn't wanna admit, but i know logan really likes kidnapper a lot."

"typical logan, really."

"you'd be surprised how much feelings that loser's holding in."

"oh?" alex smiles mischievously. "tell me more?"

"nice try," she scoffs with an eye roll. "i'm not spilling the beans about logan's love life. that's lore you've got to unlock the longer you race with him. just hope he's feeling friendly enough to share, yes?"

"so true," alex frowns. "but what if he's not friendly enough? means you are my only source for material to piss him off with. so, 'fess up!"

"can't betray my best friend like that, i fear," she frowns. though, her smile grows slowly. "but i can be bribed."

a scowl carves her face as she stares at the roll-in whiteboard with pictures held up against it with sesame street magnets. she sinks into the plastic chair she's given and tilts her head at the men gathered around her.

"and that's why i think you should get the same car as me," lando says simply, recapping the marker in his hands. he turns to her with a proud smile after his presentation.

her lips part. "so that we can matchy and..."

"and fuel rumours," lando repeats. "i'm involved in too little drama this year. it's always 'no wins' this, and 'no podiums' that... i want more."

"that's not a very good argument," she answers slowly, confusion contorting her face that almost makes alex laugh. "i said that i want an easy car, not a supercar. i've made that clear to almost everyone on the grid, yes?"

"yeah, but like," lando whines, throwing his head back as he stomps a foot into the ground. "seriously? you can't do this one thing for me? i'm asking you a favour!"

"to spend big money on a supercar i have to drive like it's made of glass!" she laughs dryly, hands thrown in the air in disbelief. she looks around at the men that have forcefully pulled her out of her garage and put her in this private room, in this plastic chair when she could've been taking a power nap. "is this what i'm here for? you lot are trying to convince me to finally purchase a car?"

"as per logan's request," alex shrugs, sipping on his juice box. "he said you've been putting it off all year. the season's about to end."

"and you listened to that nonce?" she cries, pinching the bridge of her nose. "you guys are absolutely unbelievable. i can't believe i'm wasting my time here!"

george, sitting next to her with a picture in hand, points at the whiteboard timidly. "i really put in a lot of thought about a car you should get," he says softly, looking slightly disappointed that she's caught on a lot faster than they predicted. "can i at least show it to you? i don't have to present."

"aw, george," she sighs, shaking her head. "it's not another supercar, is it?"

"it's not, i promise!" he perks up with a small smile on his face. he turns to lando with a small scowl. "only lando did this presentation with his best interests in mind. alex and i took the task seriously - just hear us out!"

she looks between george and alex, contemplating if the brit is telling the truth. instead of getting up like she had initially planned, she leans back into her seat. "fine. if it's anything like lando's, i'm leaving immediately. i don't care who has yet to present."

"but this ferrari looks so pretty," charles frowns, turning the picture in his hand to show it to her. "it's matte black and all. i thought we could match."

"that is also a supercar."

"he's presenting last, so i really don't care what he says," george mutters, shoving lando away from the whiteboard. he picks up a big bird magnet and pastes his picture between lando and max's proposal. "so, i think you should get this super cute toyota car."

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @inejismywife @vellicora @leilanixx @meadhgbcavanagh @2bormaybenot @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @cashtons-wife @love4lando @sadg3 @bborra @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts

[hongjoongspoetry]

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’s 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-F 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 in her hands 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 one of Nari’s stuffed toys. She had 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. 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 died only to be brought back to life. The only difference being a 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 in a sexy way — 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 from the level below you with ears that were good for nothing and his 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 pushed against 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 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 snapping you in and out of your screams.

“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 wobbly.

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 seeped 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 had 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 surviving 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 oversized 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 clicked your tongue 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 gun —  much bigger than yours — was in one of his hands 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 most out of date canned fruit.

“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 the squealing sound of tires coming to a stop 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 his wrist next to your face. His other hand was raised up to his cheek, 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 gun 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 beneath the thick liquid burned. 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 and the other 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 — whichever she was into — 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 out 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 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.”

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 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 came into 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 until 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 it.

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 two days.

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 hoodie 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, my friend 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 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 was 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 presented 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 a 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 back the thought of regret.

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 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’d 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 asking 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 refrain 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 it 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 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 them! 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 charcoal 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 being 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 my tongue off!”

“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 stay. 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.

[caesium-55]

—seven days. [ vi.iii ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

author's note: updating bc i love yall. lol jk i dont want to study for my engineering management long quiz yet. sum1 yell at me to start studying or smth.

tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab @vildetry06 @a-beaverhausen @formula1mount @loloekie @alucardsdaddyissues @juky-ps @cassianswh0reeee @devotedlycrookeddonut @amberpanda99 @supermaxv1 @evie-119 @spideylovin @harianaswhore @formulaal

masterlist.

The Abu Dhabi Grand Prix 2021 is a little dramatic in Max’s opinion. Some would say controversial. A lot of restarts. The issue with the safety car. Hamilton and Verstappen goes neck to neck. 369.5 points to 369.5. In the end, Verstappen overtakes Hamilton and wins the 2021 World Drivers' Championship.

The team celebrates with him after winning and in the sea of Red Bull employees, Max searches for you.

He won! Max Verstappen won! He’s a WDC now! He finally made truth of the world he told you in 2019.

Kelly appears and kisses him square on the lips. Max sees you in his peripheral vision, pulling your ball cap lower on your face before turning around and leaving. He wants to call you but Kelly keeps him in place.

Max visits your hotel room later, all happy and he holds the canned bottle of beer to you when you open the door.

“I’m not the sour loser anymore.”

You smile at him and Max feels like he’s on top of the podium again.

“Told ya you’ll be champion one day. Congrats, champ. Very happy for you.”

Champ.

Max decides that he likes Champ over every name you call him.

2022

you: go to fucking sleep u degenerate gamer

you: its 3 in the morning you have a race at 8

max: youre not my mother

you: i am ur manager u ass

you: and i have ur mom’s cell no

you: i will fucking call her if ur stream doesn't turn offline in ten seconds

you: 10…

max: you wouldnt dare

you: 9…

He moves into a penthouse at the beginning of the year and purchases a jet, Dassault Falcon 900EX, to make the traveling easier. Flying commercial absolutely sucks, even first class.

When he mentions the money he spent; the penthouse rental cost, the price of the jet plus maintenance of the private plane service, you have stood up and went to the balcony to stare at the Monaco scenery to gather your thoughts. Max laughs as he watches your brain overheat. He tells security that you’re to be given an immediate pass into the building and his penthouse without the need of going through the strict security checks. He gives you a keycard that you barely use because you knock on the door every single time you come by. A month later, Kelly and Penelope move in and this is the beginning of the little family charade.

“What are you doing?”

“Is it not obvious?” you gesture to the iPad in your hand. “Readin’ a Lestappen fic in AO3.”

Max’s brows furrow.

“Lestappen?”

“The ship name between you and Charles. Lestappen. Leclerc, Verstappen, Lestappen,” you say as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world and he’s stupid for even asking, waving your hand in a complicated flourish. “It’s good. Top-tier literature. Want me to send you the link?”

Max’s nose scrunches, “So there are people who ship me and Charles?”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Romantically?”

You nod, “Want the link?”

“Absolutely not.”

You shrug your shoulders.

“Your loss.”

Max wins P1 (as things should be) in Austin, Hamilton P2, and Leclerc P3. The team holds a private drinking party in the hotel bar. Max sits with Leclerc, whom he has invited, and Lando, who came with Daniel, and Daniel because he’s Daniel and he still gets a free pass in Red Bull parties even though he’s in McLaren now.

Daniel passes him a bottle of Heineken and Max searches for the bottle opener on the table but it's nowhere. He reaches for you, who sits on the neighboring table with the PR team. Max grabs the hem of your polo shirt sleeve and tugs slightly to get your attention. He opens his mouth to ask if you’ve seen the bottle opener but you got to moving, not even giving Max the chance to speak.

Without even interrupting your conversation with the PR people or even breaking eye contact with the person who is talking animatedly, you take the beer bottle from Max’s hand, toss a hand towel on top of it, then you use your teeth to remove the cap. It opens with a loud click. You wipe the rim of the bottle, pocketing the bottle cap, before returning the Heineken to Max.

Max looks at the Heineken bottle in his hand.

You know, Sophie, Max’s mother, always say that there's a certain type of intimacy existing when two people are able to communicate without the use of words. People associate intimacy with bare skins and basking in the fragility and vulnerability of a person, but intimacy goes deeper than mere nakedness and showing all the bare parts of you to the other person. Intimacy comes hand in hand with truth. When you admit your truth to the other person, that's intimacy. Her knowing his truth, his needs, without him telling her. That's another kind. If that's not the purest form of love then he does not know what is.

Charles pats his shoulder to pull him to reality.

At that moment, Max decides he’s an asshole because he just realized that he likes his manager after she opens his beer bottle and he has a fucking girlfriend now.

Max wins WDC for the second year in a row. Leclerc is at second and Perez at third. He’s on the top of the fucking world. Everything feels right now that he’s standing at the top.

His eyes search for you in the crowd but he doesn't find you. Only Kelly. He kisses Kelly, celebrates with the team, and visits you in your hotel room later with a cold can of beer in hand. It's a little past midnight, his watch tells him. You open the door seconds after Max knocks.

“Have you talked to Horner?” you ask, accepting the beer and opening it. The loud click when you open it feels satisfying in his ears.

You’ve changed out of the Red Bull polo now and instead, you wear a black shirt.

“No,” Max shakes his head.

“When will you?”

“Soon.”

That's the only truth he can offer. Because the bigger truth is this: Max doesn't want you going anywhere, not even the engineering team who works closely with him. He only wants you here, beside him, behind him, at all times.

One more year. One more year and he's going to tell Christian to move you to the engineering team. One more year to have you and he’ll let you go.

(That's what he told himself last year, too.)

“Okay,” you nod and it relieves Max that you’re not arguing with him about it. “Congrats, Champ.”

You don't fly with him to Monaco. You don't fly with the team either. Instead, you fly to Texas immediately straight from Abu Dhabi. Max calls you once in the middle of break to greet you happy holidays and you mail him his gift—a clay keychain figure of him. He adds it to his keys, sitting right next to the beaded keychain you gave him back in 2020 and a bottle opener keychain in 2021.

2023

“Should I break up with Kelly?”

Your head snaps up at a speed that should be considered a hazard, stunned. You give Max a look that can be translated as: Did the g-force finally catch up to your brain?

“What prompted this?” you question, slowly setting Max’s laptop aside. You’re working on fixing his laptop’s wifi connection while he’s getting his makeup done for the Heineken ad filming. Once the makeup artist deemed him done and left the room, he immediately took the chance to ask the question.

“Nothing,” he lies.

“I’ll throw away your laptop if you don't tell me the truth,” you threaten.

“It's just—” Max pauses. His mouth feels dry. He licks his lips before continuing, “It’s just… I don't know how to explain it. It feels like I don't love Kelly anymore.”

I think I love you, [Name].

“Aight,” you grab a monoblock chair and drag it until it's right beside Max’s chair and plop your ass down. You sigh deeply before your face schools into complete seriousness. “Can't believe I’m the one givin’ you this talk. Uh, Max, you see, in a relationship, you typically experience this period called the honeymoon phase.”

Max nods slowly. He doesn't know where you're trying to get at but he clings on each word that leaves your mouth.

“The honeymoon phase can last anywhere from months to years and when it's done, the strong feelings and infatuation you have for Kelly decreases and that's natural. This is the stage where your bond with Kelly is strengthened,” you explain. “It's not all sunshine and rainbows. It can get boring. But the love is still there. It's just…well, less intense than before.”

He wants to ask if this happened to you and Leo as well, but he bites his tongue and says a different thing instead, “You give advice like a relationship guru.”

“Baby, I have a long list of ex-lovers. Kelly’s your first girlfriend. You don't have a say.”

Your birthday is near. Daniel shares to Max that he’s buying you a new ball cap this year, signed by your favorite professional billiard player. Max needs to give you something better.

He thinks about the things you like. He makes a list. It's a short one.

Beer

A spot in the engineering team.

Your family

He cannot give number three. He cannot give what you already have. He can give you number two but he doesn't want to. He doesn't want you to be anything other than his manager. He can give you number one but it'll be very lame of him if he gives you beer for your birthday. What is better than Daniel’s gift? What would you like more than a ballcap?

Max calls his sister that evening.

“Shoes,” she says. “Oh wait, that's a little hard. You might get her shoe size wrong.”

“She’s size 7. In Euro, 37,” Max states a little too quickly and a little too sure.

“How did you know her shoe size?” Victoria wonders.

“I don't know. I just watch her feet?”

“So, you estimated her shoe size by watching her feet like a creep?”

“I watch her feet a normal amount, Victoria,” Max insists.

“Max, I can't even tell my husband’s shoe size even if I stare at his feet for hours.”

“Maybe you just suck at estimating measurements.”

Max ends up getting the shoes with Victoria’s help. Victoria gets too irritated with him midway because he is too indecisive. He thinks all the shoes that’s displayed do not suit you.

It's not even this difficult when he’s picking shoes to give Kelly. Normally, he just asks the saleswoman to show him the most expensive or the latest in their stock and he buys it, instructs the storespeople to wrap it up and make sure the brand shows because Kelly likes it when the brand is big and bright and attention-grabbing.

“If you think nothing’s pretty enough then go get a custom made shoe,” she advises and then sighs in exasperation. Victoria shakes her head at him. It's not supposed to be a serious suggestion but Max takes it to heart.

Instead of black, Max goes for white. You rarely go in white clothing but when you do, you become so beautiful that Max has to stop himself from kneeling down in front of you and risking everything.

It has pearls and diamonds and satin. All beautiful things that reminded Max of you. Max wants, no, needs to see you put them on. He’s the one who puts it in a box. White-colored with peach stickers and a peach-colored ribbon.

Max plans to give them to you after he wins the Miami Grand Prix. But your family arrives just as he’s about to retrieve it from his driver’s room.

Max meets your family. A family that consists of happy parents and three brothers. You are your family’s unica hija.

Julio [Last Name], your father, is a big man and his accent is thicker than yours and he doesn't call you by your name, only the most affectionate-sounding mija. He reminds Max of a giant teddy bear. A giant teddy bear who crushes rocks for a living.

Your mother, on the other hand, is a stern-looking woman. Sally, her name was. She’s short, compared to you and her sons and her husband.

You have three brothers. One older—you call him Damiano. Two younger—Rafael and Dominic. You are more your mother than your father, Max notices. Appearance-wise anyway. Damiano, too. Sharp-looking, both of you. Your sharpness makes you look charming whereas your Damiano’s sharpness makes him look intimidating. Your two younger brothers are carbon copies of your father, a little round and with kinder looking features.

“Papa, Mama, Bro one, two, and three, this is Max,” you introduce him, smiling widely and you're doing that smile where you’re showing too much gums and your eyes are shaped like crescents. Happiness looks good on you.

He lets out an oof sound when your father engulfs him in a hug. Max hears you exclaim: “Papa!”

Max laughs and waves his hand to tell you that the hug is fine and is very much welcomed.

“Congratulations, Maxwell!” Julio claps Max’s shoulders.

“Papa, please,” you shake your head at your father’s antics. “It's just Max.”

“Ya want to join us for [Name]’s birthday?” Julio invites. Max catches your eyes. You mouth a no but Max shrugs and says, “Sure.”

Max joins the family dinner. It's held in a Mexican restaurant somewhere downtown. Originally, your family reserved a table for ten. But Max has gone ahead and reserved the entire restaurant by paying upfront. You slap Max’s hand but Max laughs and says, “Happy Birthday [Name].”

Over dinner, Maxs learns that Rafael, Dominic, and Damiano are the biggest motosport fans so they all talk about Formula One and occasionally MotoGP. He finds out that they're a big fan of Marc Marquéz. Max tells them that he knows Marc personally and shares his experiences with the man. He promises to send them the man’s signatures. You tell him that he doesn't have to. He tells you that it's his pleasure.

Max listens in attentively as Julio narrates his amazing tales about his work experience. You laugh at the surprised Pikachu face Max makes when Julio is telling the entire table about the creepy call he responded to just the other month. You and your mother occasionally join in on the conversation but are more comfortable with listening to the boys.

Later, you stand up to excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. Max stands from the table five minutes after you leave. He’s drunk too much soda so now he needs to take a piss.

“Are you okay?” Max asks as he catches you reapplying a layer of lipstick—a shade of nude rose—on the sink in front of the washroom.

You hold the lipstick in one hand but the other is holding your right arm, palm covering the word MANAGER printed on the sleeve of your Red Bull polo shirt like it's something to be ashamed about.

“Yeah.” A lie.

The rest of the night goes the way Max wants it. He almost wishes it won't end.

Kelly waits for him in his hotel room. She gives him a gift for winning P1. The shoe box in Max’s backpack remains untouched.

He’s got every country except Singapore, Saudi, and Azerbaijan under his belt. His third WDC is secure even if he loses Abu Dhabi, but Max is selfish. He still wants a P1 in Abu Dhabi so he fights and fights until no one can catch up because of how fast he was.

Kelly comes with him this time to watch him race and support him because it's the final race of the season and she also knows that Max is going to win WDC this year. P is over at her father right now so it's just the two of them.

“Babe!” Max looks up from his laptop. Kelly comes running in and Max’s eyes widened, horrified, when she sees that Kelly is holding it.

The white shoes.

Max stands abruptly. The laptop in his lap falls to the floor and shatters. He curses and crouches down to pick it up and save what he can save. When he looks up, Kelly is sitting on the bed now and is trying the shoes on. Max shoves the damaged laptop aside and strides towards her. He’ll deal with the laptop later.

“That's not—”

“Oh?” Kelly’s face morphs in confusion. “It doesn't fit.”

Kelly chuckles yet it sounds empty and dread pools in Max’s stomach.

“You bought me shoes many times already. There’s no way you’ll get my shoe size wrong.”

Max takes the shoes from her hand quickly and he puts them back carefully in the box.

“That's not for me,” Kelly states.

“It’s not for you,” Max echoes.

“Then who’s it for, Babe?”

Max doesn't answer. Instead, he avoids her gaze.

“Max Emilian Verstappen, who’s the shoes for?” Kelly is seething now.

For the first time in their two nearly three year long relationship, Max and Kelly get into a screaming argument. They get into arguments as all couples do, but never ones with screaming and crying and too much anger in one room.

“I can't go on like this anymore,” Kelly cries. “I can't. I let it go when you made me wait because you celebrated her birthday with her family. I let it go when you made her that crochet bag. I let it go when you bought a billiard table and brought it into our home because she likes playing billiards—”

“I tried breaking up with you!” Max roars and he sees Kelly flinch. “And you told me not to. You used Penelope so I wouldn't break up with you—”

“Do not even say my daughter's name—”

“It's true!” Max throws his hands in the air like a man gone mad. “I told you in fucking July that I think I’m losing feelings for you! You told me to not break up with you because Penelope already thinks of me as her father and it’ll break her heart if I kick you out of my house! I am NOT her father, Kel, her father’s Daniil! You only want me because I can give you everything you want! Money, pride, and a fucking father figure for your child!”

Kelly strikes his cheek. Sharp, fast, and strong. Max remains still in shock and stares ahead.

Kelly has officially become the second person in this world who has raised a hand at Max.

“I hate you,” Kelly utters it with so much intensity. “I hate you. We’re done.”

She leaves quickly.

Max’s phone buzzes.

you: hey champ. race is on in an hour n a half. u good to go?

max: yeah

max: i’ll be there soon

you: i’ll wait for u

max: you always do

Max races with the guilt that he's a cheating asshole. His mother will not be proud of it once she learns that her son has dated a girl and idiotically realized that he’s in love with his manager halfway through the relationship.

Despite the emotional turmoil that swirling inside him, Max takes P1 and becomes a third-time WDC. He celebrates with the team. You excuse yourself, saying you have something important to do, and Max doesn't bother asking you to stay because he knows he’ll visit you in your hotel room later with a cold can of beer. It’s become your ritual now.

He drinks with Daniel, Yuki, and Checo. Five bottles in, he spills everything. He pukes. It tastes disgusting. His world turns into a hazy blur. You came to his rescue because that's what you always do.

Max is so dumb for taking so long in realizing that he's in love with you. It's always been you. You and your dumb considerate attitude and your snarky personality and your crude mouth. He never realized how horrifyingly enormous his desire for you is until its right there in front of him with its mouth wide open, ready to swallow him whole.

you: landed

you: thanks for the jet

you: talk soon gotta get to papa 1st

max: ok

max: stay safe

max: your dad will be alright dont worry

you: i hope so

It has been seven days since the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, three days since you left Monaco, two days since your last conversation in Instagram, and a day before Max flies to Belgium to celebrate the holidays with his mother and sister and his sister’s family.

max: are you okay?

max: just landed in belgium

max: mum and vic says hi

max: hey it's been a week now

max: is your dad okay?

max: im worried

max: call me soon please

max: happy holidays

max: or merry christmas

max: whatever you celebrate there in america

max: yeah i greeted a little too early

max: you didn't answer my call

max: im friends with logan now by the way

max: we talk at times

max: im trying to get him into sim racing

max: maybe it'll help him improve

max: happy holidays

max: i called your cell

max: you know christian just told me something funny

max: he sent an email this morning with a list of candidates for my 2024 manager

max: he said you resigned

max: very funny

max: please tell me you didn't

[cleo-fox]

Conquer

Part 2 of 5

Series Masterlist

Series Summary: The king intends to take a bride. You just never thought it would be you. (Soulmate AU where Loki won)

Chapter Summary: It’s no surprise that Loki has a gift for talking dirty and you wish that it didn’t work as well as it does. You wish that—for example—it were a little more challenging for him to talk you into letting him get you off in the limo on your way to a gala event hosted by the Swedish government.

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Tag List: I don’t have a tag list for this fic, sorry! The best way to hear about updates is to follow me on Tumblr or subscribe to the fic on AO3.

Chapter Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, enemies to lovers, dirty talk, praise kink, edging, teasing, p in v sex, vaginal fingering, orgasm delay, semi-public sex, light Dom/sub. (see series masterlist for series warnings)

A/N: I realize that the GIF I'm using for this chapter is TVA!Loki, but the attitude is very much in keeping with this chapter, so I decided to forgo accuracy in favor of thirst. Also, you may be thinking "Part 2 of 5? I thought this was going to be 3 chapters!" Me too. Welcome to what it's like being in my brain: even I don't know what's going on here.

The wedding night isn’t the end of the sex, of course.

The immediate, sharp need for your first coupling is gone, but there’s a dull and persistent ache that keeps you coming back to his bed every night (and several times during the day). Loki is equally ravenous, if not more so.

While you’ve come to terms with the fact that you’re going to fuck him, you still don’t like being the one to initiate sex. It sounds silly, but it feels like admitting to a vulnerability that you’re not prepared to acknowledge, let alone act on.

The problem is that your sex drive has skyrocketed since the wedding.

You’ve heard about this happening—the saying soulbonds are meant to be consummated, but some are more thorough than others didn’t come out of nowhere. You just didn’t think it would be a problem for you, especially once you found out who your soulmate was. 

You were wrong about this, of course—you are constantly horny. Your mind is a cineplex of perversion, constantly playing memories of the times that he has fucked you, ways he might fuck you next, his hands, his lips, his tongue, his annoyingly perfect cock. It makes you want to run your brain through the washing machine, like a couple of Tide pods and an extra rinse cycle might fix this.

But the part that drives you crazy is that he always seems to know when you’re in these moods and he always manages to claim the upper hand. It is—like so many things with Loki—profoundly irritating.

It’s all physical—your conversations are limited to the mundane or the utterly filthy. It’s no surprise that Loki has a gift for talking dirty and you wish that it didn’t work as well as it does. You wish that—for example—it were a little more challenging for him to talk you into letting him get you off in the limo on your way to a gala event hosted by the Swedish government.

You can feel his gaze caressing your body as you walk down the stairs to meet him. Your dress is gold and glittery, and hugs your curves while the slit sneaks just high enough that you know the fashion blogs will call it daring. You keep your eyes on your feet and your hand on the railing as you navigate the stairs in your heels. Normally, Loki would comment on that—something about how you needed proper education in comportment, you were a queen, queens don’t stare at their feet, people expected elegance, blah, blah, blah. Tonight, though, he’s silent as he takes you in, which you know means that he’s particularly enchanted by how you look. For a brief moment, you allow yourself to feel sexy and confident, to enjoy the fact that the most powerful man on the planet has been rendered speechless by how you look.

Are you ridiculously horny? Sure, but you’ve got it under control. You can hold out for an evening and you’re pretty sure Loki hasn’t figured it out. If he had, he almost certainly would have said something inappropriate when he offered you his arm. He’s probably going to be distracted by the gala anyway. Why had you ever doubted yourself?

When the two of you get into the limo, you remember why. 

The moment the door shuts behind you, Loki is pulling you close, his hands cupping your breasts and then sliding down to your thighs while his lips latch on to the spot where your neck and shoulder meet.

“What are you doing?” you ask, as though his intentions are in any way unclear.

“You need to come. I can smell you.” He’s hiking up the fabric of your dress.

Well. So much for him not noticing.

Your cunt clenches. “We’re in public.”

“Those windows are tinted and the partition is up.” His breath is warm on your neck as the fabric of your dress pools around your waist. 

“I can still wait.”

“Oh, I don’t think you can.” His fingers slip between your legs (when did you spread your legs for him?), gently grazing the gusset of your underwear, which you know is embarrassingly wet. “Soaked already,” he breathes, rubbing your clit through the thin fabric. “You need to come.”

“I-I c-can—I can wait until—oh fuck.” 

He pushes the fabric of your underwear aside and lightly teases your clit with the tip of his finger.

“You can’t,” he rasps, lightly nipping at your earlobe. “You’re such a greedy, needy little thing. Your cunt is insatiable.”

He presses his first three fingers together and rubs your clit in a big, broad circle that makes your back arch.

“Fuck,” you breathe, your hands flexing against the seat. “Fuck, just like that.”

“I thought you said you could wait?” he says with that mocking lilt to his voice, the one that makes you simultaneously want to punch him in the face and also ride him hard and fast and a little rough.

“Shut up,” you grit out.

He laughs low in your ear. “Oh, you don’t mean that, I know you love it when I talk you through it.”

You hate that he’s right.

“You love hearing about how tight and wet you are, how hard I am for you.” He drops his voice lower. “How hard I’m going to fuck you.”

You can’t help the quiet moan that falls from your lips.

“Yes, you love it when I talk to you like this,” he purrs. “And I love hearing what an utterly filthy, wicked girl you are.”

You whimper, despite your best efforts to keep quiet. 

“Oh, I like that little noise,” he says, increasing his pace ever so slightly. “Let me hear you.”

“I hate you so much.”

You’ve said this to him before and like all the other times, he simply laughs. “Hate me all you like, darling, but you and I both know that you love what I do to you.”

You bite your lip and try to focus on the pleasure that’s rising in your hips.

“Has anyone ever made you come as hard as I do?” he muses, like he’s just making casual conversation. “From the way that you scream and beg for it, I imagine that there haven’t been very many that were capable. Your cunt has quite clearly been neglected.”

You’re going to ignore what he’s saying. That’s what you’re going to do. There’s no reason to listen to any of what he’s saying.

“The truth is that you need me, don’t you?” he says, nipping at your ear. “You need me because I know exactly what to do to sate your needy little cunt. I know exactly how to make you scream.”

You hate how close you are, hate how the impending rush of your orgasm has basically rendered you speechless, save for a few incoherent whimpers.

He brings his lips close to your ear, lowering his voice to a growl. “What would those pitiful Midgardians say if they knew their queen was such a needy little slut?”

Instead of delivering a stern rebuke, you come hard. Incredibly hard—it is arguably one of the most intense orgasms he’s given you yet, blazing through your body with a ferocity that leaves you shaking in its wake.

And he notices.

“Oh, you liked that, didn’t you?” he purrs as he rubs you through the aftershocks. “I felt how hard you came, how utterly desperate you are for me to fuck you.” 

“Loki, please,” you breathe.

He tugs at your underwear. “Take this off.”

Your first instinct is to challenge him, but the fabric is now uncomfortably damp and you desperately need him to fuck you, so you lift your hips and slide your underwear down and off your legs without any complaint. He takes it from you and sticks it in his pocket.

You expect to hear the clink of his belt buckle followed by his silky smooth voice ordering you to sink down on his unfairly perfect cock. Even though you’ve just come, you want more. You always do with him. 

(You decide not to think too much about that last part).

Instead, though, he smooths his hair and settles back into his seat, looking out the window. After a moment, you clear your throat expectantly. 

He glances at you, utterly casual. “What is it?”

Your eyes narrow. He’s playing dumb and you both know it. 

“You made me take off my underwear,” you say, biting back a sharper reply.

“I did.”

“So…fuck me.”

He gives an amused little chuckle that makes your palm itch to slap him. “Darling, we’re in public, that would be unseemly.”

You roll your eyes before you can stop yourself. “You’re full of it.”

His gaze turns smoldering and stern. “And if you want to be full of my cock later tonight, you’ll change your attitude.”

You’re not sure if it’s the absence of underwear that makes you feel more aroused than usual or if he’s awakened some latent perversion you were previously unaware of. Possibly, it’s both.

Your breath hitches and he smiles like he knows he has the upper hand.

“Do you want that?” he says. “Do you want me to fill your tight little cunt with my big cock?”

You’re so far gone that you find yourself nodding before the thought of being contrary can even cross your mind.

“Well, then,” he says, flicking an invisible speck of dust from his tuxedo jacket, “you’re going to have to earn it.”

You huff out an irritated sigh and yank the skirt of your dress back down. “You’re an ass,” you say with a scowl.

“And you’re going to do exactly as I tell you or you won’t be coming at all.”

You stare at him, lips parted in the start of a complaint.

“And however much your pretty cunt is aching right now, I imagine it will be twice as worse tomorrow with no release,” he says. “If I’m feeling generous, of course. I could always make you wait longer.”

You close your mouth, biting back the urge to scowl.

He smirks. “That’s my good girl.”

Your cunt throbs. By the end of the night, your thighs will surely be sticky with your own arousal.

“This is unfair,” you grumble, crossing your arms and sitting back in your seat.

“Behave,” he says as you approach a rather impressive set of gates. “We’re almost there.”

A flick of his wrist sends seidr racing along your skin, smoothing your hair, straightening your dress, and fixing the smudge of lipstick at the corner of your mouth.

Your underwear remains in his pocket.

You have a feeling it’s going to be a long evening.

The Minister for Finance is giving a presentation. You’re not entirely sure that you would have been able to follow it under normal circumstances, but certainly not with Loki’s hand up your dress.

The two of you are seated at your own table—it’s one of the more stupid formalities he insists on, though you suppose it’s advantageous in this instance. His actions are obscured by the table and tablecloth and probably a little magic, but your heart is still racing with the thrill of it. His movements have been slow and deliberate, and the result is that he’s effectively been edging you for the duration of this forty-five minute presentation.

It feels incredible; it’s agony. You love it; you hate it.

“You’re being a very good girl,” Loki murmurs to you at one point and that alone nearly sends you over the edge.

“You’re a jackass,” you whisper back to him.

He chuckles. “If you want me to let you come once we get home, I’d suggest changing your tone, my love.”

You resist the urge to scowl, but only barely. “You made me come in the limo over here because you said I couldn’t wait,” you point out. “What happened to that philosophy?”

“It was supplanted by a desire to see what happens when I tease you for several hours.” A wicked smile curls at his lips. “Besides, I love how tight and desperate your cunt feels when I make you beg for me.”

You always come hardest when he makes you beg for him. You’d never admit it, though.

“I’d think you’d be more concerned about getting caught,” you say. “What do you think that would do to your image?”

“Oh, I think it would do wonders for my image,” he says. “Attentively tending to my wife’s needs despite potential social embarrassment? It’s rather feminist of me, don’t you think?”

“Okay, first of all, that is not what femini—” Your voice cuts out as he rolls his finger in a particularly devastating circle.

“What was that, my love?” he asks, voice thick with faux concern, his true intent easily betrayed by his shit eating grin. “You seem distracted.”

You’re not entirely sure if you’re tensing your muscles in anticipation of an orgasm or in an effort to stave it off. “You’re awful.”

His voice drops. “But I’m making you feel so very good, aren’t I?”

You take a deep breath, trying to soothe the tightening knot in your belly, even as your body is begging you to rush toward it.

“Aren’t I?” His tone turns stern and you hear the implied order loud and clear.

“Yes,” you bite out.

“Yes what?”

You swallow. You’re starting to get close, closer than he’s let you get so far. “Yes, you’re making me feel good.”

He smirks. “You’re getting close, aren’t you?”

You nod, taking another deep breath through your nose. Keep it together.

“I could let you come,” he muses. “Everyone’s watching the presentation. You could be quiet, couldn’t you?” His pace increases just slightly, enough for you to start to feel the tempting, shimmery tendrils of release. “Do you want that, lovely?”

It’s not a good idea, but you nod anyway. 

“I had no idea you were so filthy.” His fingers are massaging your clit more firmly and you bite back a gasp because you know it won’t be long. You’re trying to keep a straight face, but you’re struggling. You are so deliciously close.

“Are you going to come for me?” he asks quietly. He knows the answer.

You nod, not trusting your voice.

But just as you’re about to start to tip over the edge, Loki’s hand retreats and the building pressure in your hips diminishes back to that steady, throbbing ache just as the Minister for Finance concludes his presentation.

Loki is smirking like he expected this. “Ah. Unfortunate timing.”

You may kill him.

“You did that on purpose, you ass,” you hiss at him.

“Oh, you’ll thank me for it later,” he says, his voice dropping low.

You scowl at him, though you suspect he’s probably right.

You get a slight reprieve during dinner, but only in the sense that Loki’s hand is no longer up your dress. Your aching arousal remains, coating the inside of your thighs. Your heartbeat seems to be pulsing in your clit, the muscles of your cunt aching as they clench repeatedly around nothing.

While his hand is no longer up your dress, Loki continues to be as unhelpful as possible.

“Shall I let you unravel on my tongue?” he murmurs to you during the main course. “Or do you need my cock first?”

“I think you need to stop talking,” you say as evenly as you can muster.

“Whatever for?” he asks with the sort of feigned innocence that tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing. “Surely you’re not concerned that I’m going to make you come simply by telling you what I want to do to you.”

You take a slow sip of your water.

“Or perhaps that idea appeals to you?” he asks, dropping his voice even lower. “Do you want me to make you come in front of all of these people?”

There’s something about the idea that’s admittedly appealing in a taboo sort of way, though you aren’t quite sure you actually want to pursue it or if you’re just so desperate that even objectively bad ideas sound good.

“Truly, I doubt you could keep quiet,” he says. “You and I both know how much you like to scream for me and I’ve been teasing you for what, three hours now? But perhaps that’s what you want. You were about to come for me earlier. Perhaps you want them all to know what a needy little sl—ah, Stefan! So good to see you again.”

Loki has seamlessly directed his attention to the Swedish official who has approached your table. His ability to be charming and personable is irritating, particularly when he’s often been uttering absolute filth to you mere seconds before. Meanwhile, your brain has completely short circuited—your thoughts stopped being anywhere near coherent when he started touching you under the table during that presentation and your cunt is pulsing. You manage a polite smile and a pleasantly vague expression that you hope hides the fact that all you can think about is Loki throwing you down on the table and fucking you until you can’t walk straight and you’ve screamed yourself hoarse.

“You conducted yourself quite well,” Loki says softly once the man leaves. “I’d never have guessed that you’re hiding such a needy, sloppy cunt under that dress.”

You take a deep breath. “What’s to stop me from slipping off somewhere and taking care of things myself?”

His eyes flash a little dangerously and you hate how much it thrills you. “If you do that, I’ll see to it that you don’t come for a week. At least.”

You are irritated with him, certainly, but you are far more irritated with yourself for being even remotely aroused by his words.

“You’re insufferable,” you hiss instead.

Loki smirks and leans in to whisper in your ear. “We’ll see how you feel a few hours from now when I’m buried in your tight cunt.” His breath ghosts over your ear and it takes everything in you not to shiver. “I suspect I’ll find you much more agreeable. You always are when you need to be fucked.” His voice drops even lower. “And I know how much you need it.”

Your legs are shaking and you wonder how you’re going to make it through the rest of the evening.

You almost come during the concert.

It was probably easier for them to set up the orchestra on the same stage as the presentation, but it means that you’re still sitting at the same table as before, which gives Loki more than enough cover to continue touching you. His hand is creeping back up your dress before the oboe even plays the tuning note and while he’s still going slowly, it’s been four and a half hours and your body is aching for release in a way you have rarely felt.

His fingertip skates across your clit just a little too quickly and firmly and suddenly, you’re poised right on the edge. One more stroke of his fingers, just one more slight movement and you’ll come.

It’s a split second decision, so quick you can scarcely think twice about it. You desperately want to come, but even though you almost let it happen earlier, you know that a stifled public orgasm isn’t really what you want. You want him to hear you scream—you don’t want to hold back.

And you want to be good for him. You want him to reward you for being good, you want to be his good girl—

You shake your head to dismiss that thought and grab his wrist in a silent warning. Quickly, he moves his hand away, sliding it to your knee. Your cunt shudders and aches, the pulsing throb of your arousal even stronger than before.

He brushes his lips against your ear. “Oh, very good, darling. You’ll be rewarded for that.”

“You could reward me now and take me home,” you say pointedly, though it would probably be more effective if your voice wasn’t so shaky.

He chuckles, draping his arm around your shoulders. Every so often, you’ve seen a candid photo of the two of you in People or one of the other celebrity magazines and you’re always taken aback by how normal you look. You imagine that it would be the same if someone were to take a photo right now—you’d look like just another couple cuddling and canoodling instead of…whatever it is you actually are. Soulmates who hate each other but fuck like it’s their job and the rent is due? There’s no easy way to classify your relationship, which you suppose is for the best: this is not the sort of thing that should be common enough to have its own word.

“We still have quite a bit to go.” He brings his index finger—the same one that had just been up your dress—up to his lips and closes his eyes like he’s tasting something divine. “Norns, I can taste how desperate you are.”

You cross your legs in the hope that it will alleviate the pulsing ache between your thighs (it doesn’t). “You’re not helping.”

“Of course I’m not,” he says. “I told you, I want you begging for me by the end of the night.”

“How have I not already exceeded that threshold?”

He smirks. “I like to be thorough.”

Five minutes later, his hand is back between your thighs.

“Let’s try that again,” he murmurs. “Do you think you’ll be able to resist a second time?”

Somehow, you do—and two more times after that. By the end of the concert, your heart is pounding, your legs feel like rubber, your cunt is dripping, and you’d easily sell your soul for an orgasm.

“You’re doing so well, darling,” says Loki. He’s been full of praise and filthy promises and you can’t decide if that makes it better or worse.

“Can we please go home?”

He chuckles. “Of course not, that would be rude.”

“I have a hard time believing you’re concerned about rudeness, considering where your hands have been this evening,” you say with a pointed look.

“You wound me.” He stands and offers you his hand. You take it grudgingly, your legs wobbling slightly. “Now. Come help me charm the Minister for Defense. I need him to be much more cooperative about sharing intelligence.”

The only good thing about schmoozing with Swedish officials is that Loki can’t have his hand up your dress while doing so. Even so, he still finds ways to be constantly touching you—a hand on your lower back, your elbow, your shoulder, your waist. These things shouldn’t be erotic, but he somehow manages to make them so. Every brush of his fingers against your bare skin is agony: you are burning for him.

You watch the clock tick through another hour and a half while trying not to let anyone on to the fact that you’re keen to leave. Time feels like it’s dragging—even when the event officially ends, it still takes another thirty-seven minutes for you to say your farewells and make your way out to the front where your limo is waiting.

Your legs are shaking as Loki helps you into the limo. He slides into the seat next to you and you find yourself leaning into him, unable to resist any longer.

The door shuts.

“Loki—” you start to say.

“When we get home,” he says promptly.

“You can’t possibly—”

“Oh, I can.” He pulls you into his lap. “I’ve been hard for you all evening,” he purrs in your ear, settling you so that the thick column of his cock presses hard against your ass. “Do you know how many times I nearly dragged you off to some empty room to take you up against the wall?” He brings his mouth down against your neck, teeth pressing against your skin just hard enough to almost hurt. You tilt your head to the side to give him better access, guiding his hands to your spread thighs.

“Do you know why I didn’t?” he murmurs against your skin.

“Because you make terrible choices?” you say before you can think it through.

His low laugh rumbles deliciously against your throat. “No.” His hands slip underneath the hem of your dress, fingertips skating along the tender skin of your inner thigh. Your hips roll forward almost unconsciously, your breath hitching. 

“I didn’t because I know that you need to scream for me,” he says. “Just as much as I need to hear you.” His fingertip grazes your slit. “And you know that we can’t do that properly in the car.” His finger strokes your clit and you moan. “Poor thing,” he murmurs, tracing a slow circle over the sensitive skin. “I don’t think that I’ve ever made you this wet.”

“Loki—”

“I’m not giving you permission to come yet,” he murmurs, adding just a little more pressure. “I need you to be good for just a little longer.”

You let out a whine that you’re not at all proud of as he moves his hand away to gently massage your inner thighs. “Loki, please.”

“Be good.” His voice promises pleasure and punishment and everything in between and you feel drunk with desire.

“I’ve been so good,” you say, bringing his hand back to your cunt. “Please just let me come.”

“When we get home.”

“Just once. Please.”

He chuckles and brings his lips up to your ear. “You know that I’m going to take care of you,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. “You know I always take care of your needy cunt. I always make you come. You just need to wait a little longer.”

“I need to come now.”

“Think about how good it’s going to feel if you wait just a little longer.”

“It would feel good now.”

“It will feel even better in our bed.” He rolls his fingers in a slow circle on your clit. “You know it will.”

You whimper, rolling your hips with his hand.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this desperate,” he says. “I’m rather partial to it.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you grumble.

“Oh, I’d advise you watch your tone, darling,” he says low in your ear, sliding a finger inside you, his thumb taking up the rhythm on your clit. “I don’t want to deny you, but I may have to if you keep being so pert.”

As if to make a point, he slides another finger inside of you and you find yourself once again on the edge. You grab his wrist, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you try to hold back the rising tide within you.

“Oh, good fucking girl,” he growls and the pride in his voice makes your cunt clench hard on his retreating fingers. “You want to come so badly, but you’re being so good waiting for my permission.”

“God, this had better be worth it,” you say as you wait for the pulsing ache between your thighs to recede.

“It will be,” he murmurs against your neck. “You know it will be.” He shifts you in his lap so you face him and guides your hand to his cock. “Do you feel how hard you’ve made me? I’m aching for you.”

You rub his shaft, working your way up to catch the tab of his zipper between your fingers. He looks at you, eyes hungry, a smirk curling at his lips.

Slowly, you pull down the zipper.

“Oh you wicked thing,” he purrs, a low groan escaping him as you wrap your hand around his shaft and slowly begin stroking him. He’s rock hard and throbbing, and your hand quickly grows slick with his precome.

You lean in, brushing your lips against his ear. “I want you to fuck me,” you say, flicking your tongue against his earlobe.

He chuckles. “Are you trying to flip the tables on me, darling?”

You’re a little miffed that he figured that out so quickly. “Would that be so bad if I was?”

He laughs again. “You’re adorable.” He slides a hand along your inner thigh and back under your dress. “But I think we both know who’s really in charge here.”

Even the possibility of his hand touching your cunt has your breath quickening and your hand faltering in its rhythm on his cock.

You’re not about to admit defeat, though.

“Don’t you want to fuck me?” you say, trying to keep the quaver out of your voice. You give his cock a few long, indulgent strokes. “We’re nearly there already. All I’d need to do is move a little closer.”

He chuckles, his hand sliding up to lightly tease your folds. “I would have made you warm my cock the whole ride back,” he says casually, like he’s commenting on the weather, “but I don’t think you could have done it without coming. You’re too sensitive.”

Your lips part like you have something to say, but all rational thought and the entirety of the English language has fled your brain and even more arousal is pooling between your legs.

Loki smirks like he knows all of this and he briefly strokes you from your entrance to your clit before withdrawing. “Ah, we’re nearly home,” he says, moving your hand away and patting your thigh before tucking himself back into his trousers. “Let’s make ourselves presentable, shall we?”

You climb off his lap and straighten your dress, but don’t even bother trying to fix your hair or makeup. You stumble out of the car a minute later, hoping that you don’t look like you’ve spent the entire evening poised on the brink of orgasm.

Loki, of course, is annoyingly put together. He wraps an arm around your waist and leads you forward.

“Oh, the things I’m going to do to you when we get to our rooms,” he says under his breath as you make your way into the foyer. 

“That had better be a promise,” you say.

“I thought we established that I’m the one who gives you orders—”

“We established nothing—”

One of his advisors—Sigurd, the same one who spoke to you in the hotel when he found you—is approaching Loki at a brisk clip.

“Your majesty—”

Loki barely takes his eyes off of you. “Later,” he says, waving a hand in Sigurd’s direction.

“Sire, it’s urgent.”

Your heart sinks. Loki stops and turns to Sigurd, eyes sharp, mouth pulled into a firm line. “It had better be.”

Despite the intensity of Loki’s expression, Sigurd looks unbothered and remarkably calm. “We received new intelligence on the matter you inquired about earlier, your majesty.”

Loki’s expression darkens and you realize with a sinking sensation that he has to go deal with whatever this is. “A moment,” he says to Sigurd before turning to you.

He lowers his voice so that only you can hear him. “Go to our rooms,” he murmurs. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” 

You nod and he leans in, brushing his lips against your temple. “Be good for me.”

A thrill runs through you.

By the time you get back to your rooms, though, you’re a little annoyed. He’s been teasing you for hours and when you finally get home, he suddenly has another work thing?

It would almost be funny if it wasn’t so frustrating.

Though admittedly, he did look pretty surprised and annoyed by Sigurd’s sudden appearance. It’s probably not fair to blame him for that.

Probably.

You take your time getting undressed, mainly in the hope that it will somehow hasten his return or trick you into thinking time is passing quickly. Not that you’re looking forward to him returning for any reason other than sex. You still hate him—you just really need him to fuck you. That’s all it is.

You hesitate for a long time over the collection of silk nightgowns in your wardrobe. Should you put something on? Should you just wait naked on the bed? A silky green number catches your eye. He’d probably like that. He’s pretty predictable when it comes to that sort of thing—put on his colors and he goes feral. With any luck you won’t be wearing it for very long, but you might as well do what you can to facilitate that outcome.

You contemplate underwear and decide there’s little point, given that tonight’s set is still tucked into his pocket.

You situate yourself in the middle of your bed and try not to think about your throbbing cunt. It would be so easy to get yourself off, but you know that it won’t be as good.

You need him.

You try to ignore the thought. It’s just physical. That’s all it is. You’re on edge from being teased all evening. It doesn’t mean anything.

You wait.

It’s late when you finally hear the door click open, followed by the tap of his dress shoes on the floor.

You sit up in bed, your eyes roving greedily over him. His suit jacket is gone and his tie is draped around his neck, shirtsleeves rolled up. You are loath to admit it, but it’s incredibly hot.

Before you can even get any words out, he’s striding across the room, eyes hungrier than you’ve ever seen them. His clothes disappear the second he hits the bed, followed swiftly by your nightgown. Seconds later, he’s on top of you, mouth seeking yours, cock pressing insistently against your stomach. Your hands are just as greedy, skimming up his back and combing through his hair.

“Have you been good for me?” he murmurs as he nudges your thighs apart.

“Yes.”

“Did you touch yourself?” he asks, his voice stern.

“No,” you say.

He knows you’re not lying and the hungry smile he gives you almost makes it all feel worth it. “Good girl,” he growls. “Do you want me to fuck you now?”

“Yes,” you say breathlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he drags his cock through your slickness. “Please.”

He chuckles as he lines himself up at your entrance. “I know, darling, I’m going to take such good care of you.”

Your cunt is so slick and sensitive from his hours of teasing that just the act of him sliding inside of you feels like you’ve reached your own personal nirvana. 

“Oh, fuck.” Your voice comes out in a whimper and your legs tighten around his waist to hold him in place because he feels so overwhelmingly good.

Loki lets out a low groan as he eases inside you, catching his lower lip between his teeth as his brow furrows. “Perfect.” He leans in to kiss you as he starts to move. His first thrust is slow but even so, it draws a whimper from your throat. He’s always felt good, but this is transcendent.

“Oh god, please don’t stop,” you gasp.

“I won’t, my love.” His voice is tender as he moves with an aching, slow precision. “Not until you’ve had your fill.”

For the first time this evening, you let down your guard. Every time he’s touched you tonight—even before the gala in the limo—you’ve had to hold back to some degree. You haven’t been able to give into it, to let yourself be completely unbound and unguarded. But now when he’s moving inside of you, you have the freedom to just be and feel and it’s exquisite. Every thrust of his hips, every reverent caress of his hands, every sigh or groan is an opportunity to discover a new kind of heaven.

“You were magnificent tonight,” he murmurs, sliding his hand between your bodies to rub your clit. “Even with my fingers playing with your pretty cunt under the table, you looked every inch a queen. My queen.”

He’s never talked to you like this before and it makes your body sing. You arch, rolling your hips with him as the building wave inside you rises impossibly high, as though every orgasm you almost had this evening is starting to arrive all at once. The tension in your hips is equally fantastic and unbearable, a supernova of sensation that may destroy and remake you all at once.

“Filthy girl, I can tell you’re getting close,” he purrs, tilting his hips so he hits the spot that makes you tremble. “You act so prim and proper in public, but it takes so very little to turn you into my perfect little slut when I get you alone.”

You are approaching the peak, the whirling center of the storm building inside you. “Loki—please, I can’t, I’m gonna—”

“That’s it, darling. Soak my cock like a good girl.”

You always come the hardest when he’s inside you and this is no exception. The pressure in your hips is suddenly and spectacularly ablaze with a shimmering euphoria that draws a raw and primal moan deep from inside your chest. You are a fountain of sparks, all the tension and desire of the evening finally reaching its apex. You have yearned for this all night and the resulting blaze is spectacular.

His pace is still slow, but Loki’s eyes are wild and you get the sense that his composure is hanging by a thread. Though his eyes occasionally flutter shut as your cunt convulses around him, his gaze is locked on you in a kind of wonder. 

“Do you have any idea how good you feel when you come on my cock?” he rasps.

Even in the throes of utter bliss, you need to hear his voice. “Tell me.”

“I would create entire worlds and walk through the fires of their destruction just to feel you come.”

You shudder out a sigh. “More.”

He picks up his pace just slightly. “I would flatten mountains and raise valleys and reverse the currents.”

“More.”

He’s hitting that aching spot inside you again and the rolling tremors of the aftershocks are starting to coalesce into another building wave. You moan and his hand moves back to your clit, slick fingers pressing and rolling in just the way you need.

His eyes shine, bright with lust as his hips and fingers work diligently to unravel you again. “I would take down the stars and bring the heavens to the earth…”

His words are making you dizzy and his movements are coaxing the pressure inside of you into a cyclone that you know is going to take you down.

“Loki, please.” These are the only words you know because your entire world is him moving inside of you, inevitable as the sunrise, the architect of the heavenly destruction and renewal that is building and building in your hips.

He shifts so his weight is entirely on his elbows, bringing his lips up against your ear so you don’t miss a single word. “I would lay my crown at your feet and forsake my name…just to feel you come on my cock.”

The coil in your hips snaps and unfurls into a starry, sparkling oblivion that has you crying out his name over and over like he’s your ending and beginning, the center of your universe. Your eyes are shut against the onslaught of intense sensation, but you can feel him reaching the blissful height he’d been speaking of. He groans and slurs out a few incoherent oaths before succumbing to you and filling your pulsing cunt with his hot release.

His mouth is on yours and he’s kissing you like he means it as he slows to a halt. You lie together for a long moment, hearts beating wildly against each other. 

This felt different than other times. There was an intensity there that had nothing to do with the sex. You don’t know what that means, other than it’s definitely not any kind of feelings for him. It must be something else. You’re certain it’s something else.

“I didn’t realize I’d be called away upon our return.” 

You’re so distracted by your thoughts that the sound of his voice startles you slightly.

“Oh, um, yeah, I figured…it seemed unexpected,” you say.

He lifts his head to look at you, green eyes intent. “Trust that there are very few things that could have pulled me away from you in that moment.”

He’s being sincere. It’s not what you expect and that scares you a little, though you can’t quite articulate why. The idea that he would care whether you thought he’d intentionally extended your wait hadn’t even occurred to you. You don’t really know this side of him. 

“So, it wasn’t like…making a proclamation designating June National Peanut Butter Month.” You know you’re deflecting, but you don’t know what else to do.

He frowns. “That can’t possibly be a real thing.”

You shrug. “It might be. Lots of governments do stuff like that. Maybe you should consider it.”

His smile is slight, but brief as he stretches and slowly eases out of you. “I will leave that to others.”

There’s a beat of quiet and you suddenly find yourself desperate to fill the silence. “What did they need to talk to you about?”

He looks at you sharply and you wonder if this was the wrong thing to say. Loath as you are to admit it, this conversation has fostered a flicker of warmth between you, a fact you only notice now because of its sudden absence.

“It’s nothing you need to concern yourself with,” he says as he rolls off of you. It’s not unkind, but it’s also not warm, and the discussion is clearly closed.

Part of you mourns the loss of that little spark of closeness, but a larger, louder part is intent on pretending it never existed in the first place.

“Suit yourself.”

You’re annoyed and you roll off the bed and go about your evening routine with a little more clattering and stomping than is strictly necessary. There’s a lump in your throat that you don’t understand and you’re full of feelings you can’t define. You eventually settle on the bed with your back facing him, glaring at the wall like he can see you.

But then he reaches for you in the darkness, his arms winding around your waist, nose nuzzling against the nape of your neck as he pulls you to his chest. And instead of reading him the riot act, you let him hold you and let yourself relax into his embrace, fingers twining around his. You sleep better like this, you tell yourself. That’s the only reason you’re allowing it. It’s nothing to do with him.

You’ve told yourself that every night since your wedding and every night, it gets a little more difficult to believe.

Next chapter coming soon

[coco-loco-nut]

Broken Bones

pairing: george russell x reader

summary: George gets in a wreck and you happen to be the surgeon on-call.

a/n: i loved this prompt, i hope you love it ❤️

masterlist

————————

George was enjoying his home race, he was holding P3 with a comfortable lead due to some great defending earlier in the race. Unfortunately for him, mother nature decided to put her hand into the race and have a pop up rain shower come through.

“It should clear through shortly, let’s keep with the softs,” his engineer says, hoping to outsmart those pitting for inters. George says a quick response and continues focusing on the track, especially the dry line. With the rain pouring, he catches a wet line in turn 4, sending the car spinning and into a barrier.

You rush down a couple floors to where you have been paged. Being the only orthopedic trauma surgeon in the hospital and on-call, you have to make haste.

“Is there really no one else to take this?” you ask, looking at the chart that has initial images and the patient information.

“Big fan?” the nurse beside you asks as you mentally plan the procedure. Most of Britain is basically a fan of the racing driver.

“Yeah. It’s not ethical, but I took an oath,” you tightly smile, beginning the process of scrubbing in.

“You are a great surgeon, you will have no problem keeping the fan part of you out of your mind,” the nurse reassures you. You take a couple deep breaths before heading to surgery.

The procedure goes well, you repair the broken wrist and fix the damage as best you can. Of course, time will finish healing it, but you do your best.

Afterwards you scrub out, finish paperwork, and go home. You won’t need to check in until anesthesia wears off, and that can take a while. You return later in the day, dressed in business casual and your lab coat.

“Mr. Russell, how are you feeling?” you ask, needing to check on your work. You close the door behind you when you enter the room.

“You are so pretty,” George says, still a little out of it.

“Thank you. Mind if I check your arm?” you ignore your blush.

“You look like my wife. She’s a doctor too, soooo pretty,” George babbles.

“I know, love, let me see your arm,” you say gently, sitting beside him.

“What happened?” George asks with a confused look.

“You spun out and crashed into a barrier. It was raining, you were on slicks, and caught a wet line,” you explain, carefully examining the surgical site, removing the splint immobilizing the wrist.

“I know that much. Injuries?” he asks, eyes trained on your wound examination.

“Broken wrist. We are going to brace it rather than cast it,” you check his chart for other injuries noted.

“Thank you for taking such good care of me, I love you,” George says, moving his non-injured hand to grab yours.

“I love you too, Georgie,” you whisper, rubbing your thumb over his hand as he processes everything. You note things in his chart, making sure your observations and updates are written down.

“I’m glad you did my surgery, I wouldn’t trust anyone else,” he smiles, you can’t help but smile back. It’s not illegal, but it certainly is borderline unethical to treat your husband.

“I’m happy to hear that. Why don’t I go and see if your family is out in the waiting room?”you hum, needing to stay inconspicuous. Of course, those close to you know who your husband is, but since you don’t share his last name it isn’t obvious.

“One kiss before you leave,” George pouts and you hesitate. “Please, I was just in a crash and your kisses make me feel better,” he pouts. You playfully roll your eyes and lean in, giving him a quick kiss.

“I love you, I’ll be right back,” you reassure him. You find his family and Toto waiting outside in the waiting room.

“Family of Mr. Russell,” you say, calling them to you.

“Y/n, dear, did you do his surgery?” George’s mom asks, a little hopeful.

“I did, I was the only one here and on call. Thankfully nothing too major, he can probably get back into a car in a month if we rehab him correctly. Want to see him?” you ask, knowing the answer. You lead them to his room, but stop Toto before he walks in.

“Y/n-“ Toto starts but you don’t hesitate to cut him off.

“You got very lucky that the broken wrist was the worst of it. Keeping him out on slicks? Are you stupid, a win is not worth more than a life,” you fume.

“I know, I gave his engineers and strategists a talking to. I just wanted to check in on him, but knowing he is in your care is all I needed. I check in tomorrow then,” Toto stays calm, knowing you had to since George was brought in and you needed to yell at someone.

“I, um, thank you. He should only be here another day for observation. I’ll keep you updated,” you recompose yourself and watch as Toto leaves.

“She’s just the best doctor ever. So pretty too, and smart, and really good at surgery,” you overhear George tell his parents, he likely just got another dose of pain meds.

“Thank you, Georgie. You are a pretty good patient,” you smile from the doorway.

“Can you believe that doctor loves me? And she married me?” George asks his mom who laughs.

“You chose a wonderful wife. Why don’t you let her get back to work?” his mom asks, catching your amused gaze.

“Yes, I have another surgery scheduled. I will check on you in a few hours,” you walk over to your husband, giving him a quick kiss.

“I love you so much, I want to have babies with you,” George blurts, causing your face to flame bright red.

“Okay, let’s talk about that later,” you awkwardly say, stepping out of the room.

You are quick to return after your scheduled surgery. You know the nurses rotations and know that they won’t check in for another hour.

“There’s my beautiful wife,” George grins as you walk in. “You look so sexy post-surgery,” he eyes you up.

“Really? I don’t feel like it,” you slide onto the bed beside him, careful to avoid hurting him. You relax in silence for a minute before you address the feeling eating at the pit of your stomach. “Please try not to crash again. I know it’s unavoidable, but the feeling I got when I saw your name and didn’t know how serious the crash was. It… I don’t think I can describe the panic,” you take a deep breath, closing your eyes and focusing on the sound of his heartbeat under you. The cool hospital air is a stark contrast to his warmth.

“I’m sorry, it’s the one part of racing I hate too,” George is unsure how to respond. He looks at the blank hospital wall, as if it’ll give him the answer. “I’ll always come home to you, and I have a badass surgeon to take care of me,” he laughs a little, trying to lighten the mood.

“I can only do so much, like brain surgery? You are on your own,” you grin, happy to let the vibe change.

“You could do it, you can do anything,” George says, he always gets gushy when he’s tired.

“Okay, baby, you should get some sleep. I’ll go home and get you clothes. I will be back tomorrow morning to check on you,” you yawn, also needing sleep. George knows you can’t stay in the room too long, and he wouldn’t want you to stay up in an uncomfortable chair.

“I love you. Drive safe,” he mumbles, tiredness washing over him in waves. You fix his sheets and make sure he is okay before kissing him goodnight and leaving. It feels weird, to go home and not have him there. You burn the rest of your anxious energy by reaching out to some good physical therapists that you know to help with George’s recovery.

Under your watchful eye, he makes a recovery similar to Lance’s, even with you fussing the first few races post-injury. You framed one of his x-rays. George had to listen to you talk about how beautiful it was, you claimed it to be your best work. It allows for a good story when having friends over, and it reminds George to not let it happen again.

[ybklix]

𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐧

★ pairing: ceo!leeminho x fem!reader

♡ part 3 (part one, part two) 𓂃 ࣪˖ part four

✦summary: You wanted to believe that after exposing each other’s feelings, you were in for a fairy tale tinted in the prettiest pink, until you get to know Minho's true colors and try to hold on, in the end, both of you are very different.

✭ content - tags - warnings: smut / sugar daddy / dom!possesive minho / needy minho / fluff / unprotected sex / fingering / teasing / oral sex

word count: 9.5k

( updated masterlist ᝰ.ᐟ )

That confession had come so genuinely and sincerely from you that you almost found yourself trembling once your tried to rejoin the crowd to continue celebrating Minho. You looked at him as he held your hand and walked you back to his party located in the huge, beautiful grassy grounds. You couldn't believe you liked someone, or at least the way you like Minho, you were crazy about every part of him and after the most ruthless act you can appreciate, comes with him one of the cutest and tenderest smiles you've ever seen, your new obsession was his tender laugh that made your body warm in seconds.

“Do you want to stay at my place tonight?” he whispered in your ear.

You watched him, his brown eyes sparkled and he looked at you with a tender smile, lifting his cheekbones and hiding his upper lip slightly, showing his cute front teeth. You nodded, you could tell he had a nice time and enjoyed the reunion created by his friend.

After hours, night fell and little by little the guests said goodbye to Minho, leaving only him, Hyunjin, you and the rest of the staff who were carefully cleaning the tables. You managed to drink your last glass of champagne before they cleared everything away and turned to see the man you liked standing a few yards away from you, his hands inside his pants pockets and looking off into the horizon as he talked to his friend.

“So you finally decided to stay with y/n, good for you, she was too good to waste her potential in sites like that” Hyunjin commented without measuring his words.

Minho smiled after nervously telling him that he saw himself with you, together. After a disastrous breakup, he was once again feeling the excitement and care of wanting to be with someone. However, hearing his friend remind him of some of what he was trying to ignore and overlook, like how he met you, was when his pleasant gesture vanished from his face and he tensed his jaw a little. Hyunjin noticed it instantly and managed to remedy himself.

“I mean I bet she's smart and pretty too…”

“She is” replied Minho seriously, remembering your long journey before meeting him, studying and working at the same time, but now that you were with him, Minho would make sure you lack absolutely nothing.

“You're welcome” Hyunjin told him amused squeezing Minho's shoulders trying to relax him a little “if it wasn't for my serious meddling problem, I would have never intervened in your life and you wouldn't have met her.”

Minho let out a chuckle and looked slyly in your direction.

“Definitely the kind of girl you would want to be with, very you�� Hyunjin added looking at Minho seeing you, “but what would your mother say.”

Minho turned to look at Hyunjin, serious, but with some amusement on his face; Hyunjin looked at him with a look of shock and humor because they both knew what it meant, Minho had a long record of doing things that didn't please his conservative mother, until he dated Soyul, daughter of powerful and wealthy family; once Minho started dating Soyul, his mother believed she was finally getting her only son back; his mother adored her and even tried to persuade her son to forgive her, that little slips in relationships could happen, he didn't consider it so, he couldn't marry and give his life to someone he knew betrayed him and felt dirty being with another man.

“A 20 year old middle class college girl will be the reason for her death” Minho let out a laugh.

“And she studies arts, if that angered my parents, imagine yours” commented Hyunjin.

But he didn't care, as long as you were his, the rest didn't matter to him. After some more small talk, Minho thanked Hyunjin for the evening and said goodbye, approaching you, ready to go home with you. You drank alone, a little shy of interrupting the conversation of men.

“Don't drink too much, I want you to remember this whole night” Minho said to you in a mischievous tone, taking the cup from your hand and looking at you the only way he knows how and puts your weak knees.

You smiled broadly at him showing your teeth and narrowing your eyes, he pulled his body dangerously close to you, who on impulse you wrapped your arms around his neck, leaving them resting on his shoulders, almost jumping towards him, almost as if you had missed him in that period he was away from you; there was nothing else you wanted more right now than to feel being in Minho's arms.

“Let's go or I'll start to forget” you told him with your chin and eyes raised to look at him, close to his face.

Minho circled your body, watching you and enjoying your closeness.

“Let's go then, princess” he whispered to you.

He handed the cup to an employee and took you by the hand to walk to the parking lot, where he opened his car door for you and finally drove. This time he would make sure to be all gentleman for you from now on, Minho just wanted to be there for you, devotedly devoted to you, that's how intense he was, either he was not interested in you at all, or you were his whole world.

“Do you want us to go home already or do you want to do something… it's still Saturday night and you still look beautiful, if you want to do something fun…” spoke Minho once he took the road towards the city.

You smiled at him, not sure he could see you because he was focused with his eyes straight ahead and driving, you found him incredibly attractive doing the slightest thing that, if it wasn't for car armrests separating you, you'd be jumping his lap to feel his hard worked firm legs press against your butt and thighs. You always loved his side in profile and watching him take the wheel, you knew it from a week when you barely knew each other. You thought about how short the time passed, how in a week ago he seemed to disown you and now he was taking you in his car asking you what you wanted to do, telling you he would do everything for you, it seemed unreal how time treated you, still it helped a lot that you saw each other every day, you couldn't get enough of him, every day he had something new, Minho was quite a mature man, he would tell you the news happening in the country that he read on his phone while he had breakfast, but you were more of reading only the shows and celebrities section, or when he told you about some article he read and informed you every detail about it while you sat on his lap before moving your guts, you softly murmur to him “ah really?”, sometimes you didn't understand anything, still you loved to hear him talk. And not to mention the sex, for you everything was new with him, you felt like a first timer, each orgasm was stronger than the previous one, your experiences with college guys were nothing compared to what he made you feel.

Minho watched you for a second as you shook your head still with a smile plastered on your face.

“No?” he said in amazement, “Well I guess you want that kind of fun then” he added more mischievously.

You leaned on to him and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek which made Minho blush and smile.

After several songs on the radio later and Minho's small talk about every aspect of the party, you finally arrived at his house. You didn't want to let out a sigh in excitement, but you were excited, you were addicted to Minho and you weren't ashamed to admit it, there was no one in the world who knew how to touch and please you like he did.

You walked in a little tired, Minho had to pretend to be nice all afternoon, you had to smile all the time being the pretty girl intertwining Minho's arm all the time, you didn't want to, you felt kind of weird, but he wanted it that way, introducing you to everyone he knew as “a special friend”, you weren't upset at all by the term, at least Minho decided to be honest and not call you his girlfriend still, besides that was before he confessed to you that he really liked you. Curiosity invaded your body… thinking also if Minho was treating you with exclusivity, only touching you, not seeing anyone else and what it would feel like to really be his girlfriend, why someone like his ex-girlfriend would waste such an opportunity.

“We can watch a movie if you want” you turned to him, seductively playing with the opening of his jacket.

Minho saw you, smiling.

“I'll go take a shower, do you want to join me?”

You smiled, so far you hadn't had sex in the shower and you were so excited just thinking about it. You accompanied him to his bathroom where, he helped you take off your clothes, gently sliding that dress over you, he pulled down your panties and as if by magic every time he got close to you, your area was already incredibly sensitive. Minho admired your naked body for a few seconds and began to undress himself, he was just beginning to raise his enthusiasm, he knew perfectly well that you wanted to be fucked while the water ran down your body. You admired Minho's body and the swollen cock you scream for every day, you couldn't help it, you could do it with him every day anytime, it would always be a great experience with him.

“Do you like your water hot, warm…?” spoke Minho approaching his shower room.

“Mmm a little hotter than warm.”

“Just like you. Hotter” he replied.

Minho smiled, putting the water to run, little by little little vapor coming out from it, he walked towards you and took your waist joining your bodies together, you were surprised to feel his erection pink on you and he kissed you slowly, once again you wrapped your arms around his neck and Minho slowly decided to let his kiss escalate into something hotter and hotter, introducing his tongue and moving his lips provocatively against yours, while his hands traveled one to your ass squeezing it and the other tracing your waist until he reached your breast and played with your nipple. Your breath began to come in short gasps and your legs began to give out on you in seconds with just a kiss and the friction of his growing erection against your abdomen. You didn't want to look so needy only you so you decided to lower your right hand to his penis and start pulling and stroking it subtly, Minho moaned loudly at the feel of your hand while sucking on your lip, he stopped kissing you for a few seconds enjoying your touches while you looked at him proud that he is giving in too.

“Fuck, yes, it feels, good, keep doing it kitten, your strokes are so gentle” Minho gasped closing his eyes tightly and licking his lips as he bites them.

You lowered your other hand to him and felt his rigid length, slowly masturbating him, Minho was so desperate, the sound of the water falling and of friction of his member being pleasured, he had to come back to reality so between a long sigh he said:

“Let's get you wet…”

You looked up as you were for a moment watching closely the way your hand was moving on his big cock, you smiled sideways as that was double entendre, although you were already in itself wet and horny.

“Not like that, let's go to the shower honey” he laughed softly.

You let go and walked into the hot water, making you startle a little as you felt the warm sensation on your naked body. You both laughed, pulling your bodies together so that the pressure of the water reached out to wet you both. You raised your gaze to Minho and let out a giggle again as you saw his hair flattened by the shower and as he pushed his long hair away from his eyes. Minho grabbed your arm and moved a little away from the direct stream, letting it fall on your back and ass, and he kissed you again, this time more desperate, kisses down your body, you could not even respond, he suddenly took full control of your body and pleasure once again, you gasped in astonishment as you suddenly felt it and the temperature of the water running down your back suddenly felt ten times hotter.

You struggled to breathe, the steam enclosed the place and your hot breath didn't help at all, you looked down, finding Minho with his face buried in your pussy, his jaw moving with effort to get the right spots stimulated and his straight nose bumping against your skin; you were feeling so good that you started to lose your balance and had to lean on his shoulder, trembling; Minho started to thrust you with his fingers feeling the tightness of your soft lubricated cunt walls, Minho was crazy about your moans and feeling your insides, he could cum just fantasizing about having you.

You were about to reach your peak, panting harder and harder indicating it, until you felt nothing, all your load suddenly stopped, feeling Minho stop what he was doing, you looked at him confused and with a slight pout on your face as he stood up again, you were soaking wet, and not from the shower water, you were ready to explode in orgasm and give your sweet juices to your very “special friend”. Minho smiled softly at your discontent and leaving you sexually frustrated, he held your waist and leaned you back against the wall a little roughly, he couldn't take it anymore, his cock was about to explode too if he didn't enter you, you understood instantly and wrapped your legs around his lower torso. Minho awkwardly took his sensitive cock letting out a groan and positioned it at your entrance, slowly pushing it further in letting out a sigh, almost as if he could finally breathe.

You watched brazenly as his length pushed into you leaving you breathless once you felt it hit your deepest spot, once all the way inside, you looked up staring at him, Minho had an expression of being slightly concentrated and had his mouth half open, with his gaze lost on your neck and lips; within seconds he started to move, feeling you slowly being ruined by his big cock, no matter how many times he fucked you, you couldn't adjust to his size and still you worshipped him madly, it was the best part. Minho began to forcefully thrust his cock into your cunt in a fast and frantic rhythm as he held you tightly by your ass and thighs. You tried to maintain his intense eye contact but you couldn't, you were lost in the myriad of sensations, pleasure, desire, pain, as you rested your arms on his shoulders and played with his wet hair.

“Look into my eyes while I fuck you” he ordered unexpectedly in a husky voice.

You wanted to enjoy every movement by closing your eyes and rolling them but suddenly following Minho's directions turned you on more and staying obedient in a task you found difficult made your body temperature hotter. Each stroke enveloped Minho's cock, feeling his every inch of your wet pussy, he could fade there in your arms if only you knew how you made him feel. Minho had stopped feeling intensely for quite some time now, until you crossed his path.

You couldn't hold it back any longer and dug your nails hard under the back of his neck as you let all your tension finally release, sighing vigorously and cumming with your lover's cock still inside you, which he soon did too, releasing himself into you, grunting and exclaiming in a harsh voice “fuck” as he filled you with his cum.

The rest of the bath was done shyly and a little awkwardly, helping to put shampoo in Minho's hair, laughing as he complained dramatically and screaming that you were treating his scalp roughly, just Minho being him.

As you left wrapped in towels, you noticed a distinctive bag from one of the most famous lingerie brands on Minho's bed, confused you turned to look at him since you hadn't noticed it when you entered his room minutes before. Minho noticed your look and said,

“I ordered it for you when we were at the party because I did think you would stay, you should have more pairs here just in case. I had them washed, don't worry.”

You approached towards the big bag shyly trying to process everything he had said, thinking how come he could bring these things up and be one step ahead… normally a simple guy would be like 'oh yeah, we fucked and I forgot those little details that comes with once we're done'; but it wasn't just any guy, it was Lee Minho. You felt like you were in TV drama series, the rich guy always taking care of the girl.

“Thank you” you murmured shyly to him and pulled out the set of comfortable but sexy silk pajamas.

Minho finished before getting ready, putting on his comfortable pajama pants and a simple white t-shirt, then he saw you, who still wasn't finished, he approached you with a pure and tender look, he didn't know how to explain it but it was something that overwhelmed him and grew more and more every second he spent with you.

You watched him approach you, thinking how cute he looked wearing simple pajamas loose to his body, normally you saw him well dressed but now he was so relaxed in his own room ready to go to bed, you didn't think he could look any cuter.

You were putting moisturizer on your legs and you felt Minho sit on the bed.

“You should live here” he said suddenly.

That sentence made you stop your activity and you looked at him incredulously, shaking your head in disbelief.

“We've known each other for how long...”

Minho sighed in annoyance, he wanted to have you all the time, he knew it was a big step, but, he just knew he didn't want to be alone, he just wanted to be with you.

“It doesn't matter it's just that” he turned to look at you with his big eyes almost pleading, “...this house is too big and I don't want to feel lonely, I want to be with you.”

You didn't know what to say, but for a second the curiosity to know everything behind that sentence won you over.

“You lived here with your ex-girlfriend?”

Minho denied softly with a frown.

“No, I moved out immediately, you gave this house meaning.���

You sat down next to him, placing your hand on his in a no brainer, again you were speechless.

“You don't know me yet, what if I'm too messy for you” you joked.

“You could never make me hate you...” he blurted out suddenly with a submissive look and a subdued tone, looking you straight in the eye.

You blinked perplexed by the sudden rush of feelings inside you, you couldn't explain it, it wasn't excitement, but it was something physical and at the same time internal, Minho had to watch what he said and all those little acts he did with you or... you thought you might end up falling in love. Minho took your hand and directed it to his cheek, closing his eyes enjoying your warm touch, you had never held Minho's face like that and it suddenly felt so good that you had to put your other hand on his cheek, stroking him softly with your thumb.

“Then let me live in your apartment" he added in a soft whisper with a small sweet complicit smile.

You smiled, how could he talk nonsense, you couldn't imagine Minho living in an apartment smaller than his closet and kitchen, the idea of him in a place he didn't belong seemed funny and out of place for you.

“I need you, y/n” he continued, opening his eyes and looking at you in a way that melted everything inside you, “I'm crazy about you.”

Minho lowered his gaze to your lips and came closer to kiss you, you accepted him surprised, following his slow pace; you didn't understand how he could say those things while you looked with your wet hair unbrushed and without a drop of makeup on you, but he sounded so sincere that it made you question so many things... he could live tasting your lips always and every part of you, this time he was in no hurry at all and wanted to enjoy every second of the thin skin of your lips.

One thing escalated to another and Minho gently placed you on top of him, positioning your knees on either side of his thighs and intensifying your kisses, in which you were more and more breathless and sighing against each other. All this felt so intimate that you could predict that if he fucked you it would not be about that kind of hard and rough fucking you usually have, but about making love again. He roamed your body running his hands under your blouse, he loved touching you and feeling every part of you with his strokes.

You parted for a moment, catching your breaths and looking at each other's slightly swollen lips.

“Fuck me again” he almost begged.

Minho held you by the waist; you let yourself fall gently onto his lap feeling his bulging erection, you swallowed somewhat nervously, wanting to make it so nice and smooth that you didn't want to ruin it. Minho needed you, he needed you one more time only so he could breathe, he could beg you just now if you decided to play with him and refuse.

You slid his pajamas and underwear off making him moan, and there it was, one of the many reasons how Minho's body reacted when it came to you. You sighed trying to remove your pajama shorts and pushed the fabric of your underwear aside, inserting his cock in your cunt once again, you moaned at the new contact in a short span of time and moved up and down slowly with the help of Minho's grip, both of you panting; you hugged him and leaned your head a little on his right shoulder, thinking about how fucking good it felt to belong to him, as if you were joined together like puzzle pieces. You also thought about again feeling his bare cock unprotected and how that could lead you into a very big mistake, a fucking child under the zodiac sign of leo, a spoiled attention seeker and impulsive little fucker, just like your relationship, you thought, which would somehow ironically be the perfect creation of both of you.

[...]

A few moments later you both had a movie marathon in Minho's mini cinema room, you couldn't believe he had a room just for that, you expected it from your friend who studied cinema but not from him, a simple rich man... suddenly you remembered Felix, feeling wrong and a bad friend, plus you hadn't talked about what happened “that” day when you stupidly told him you liked him... but putting it in retrospect, you felt completely different about both confessions, when you told Felix and when you told Minho, you didn't want to think about it, you were hugely avoiding the problem.

But it didn't matter, you felt so comfortable in Minho's strong arms just now that you ignored your thoughts. You were leaning against his chest, hugging him. Minho smiled as he discreetly checked the time on his cell phone, he leaned his head over you more and whispered sweetly “Happy birthday” you stirred a little from his chest and looked up to see him a little confused.

“It’s past midnight so, happy birthday, y/n” he spoke again sweetly.

Once again you thought that if he kept being this sweet and tender, you might end up doing something fatal like falling in love...

“You still haven’t told me what you want for your birthday...” added Minho.

You grimaced thoughtfully, eliciting tenderness from him; you truly hadn’t thought about it... you didn't know what you wanted, if you had never met him, you'd be spending a sleepover with Hari and partying the rest of the day with her and Felix.

“I don't know... I can’t think of anything material” you replied.

Minho raised an eyebrow in disapproval. But you really just wanted to be with him.

“You're sure? I can give you anything.”

You smiled amused and decided to joke about the situation, it was amazing how easily he said it and that you knew perfectly well that he wasn't joking, yes he could get it for you.

“Mmm well... will you give me a car?” you commented with false enthusiasm.

“I’ll buy you three,” he said with a smile and a serious manner.

“I wasn’t serious, please don't” you said in mild panic.

Minho let out a soft chuckle.

[…]

The next morning, you woke up so comfortable in Minho's big bed, you had slept so well, curled up on his chest, feeling the warmth of his body. You were about to get out of bed when you noticed that Minho was no longer there, but he quickly came in with a big smile and already dressed up, looking more handsome than yesterday, you thought.

“Good morning, do you want breakfast in bed or do you want to go down for it, princess” he said approaching you.

You looked at him still not fully awake, causing him tenderness.

“I can come down” you spoke in a hoarse voice.

“Okay, go on, I cooked for you. Oh and pick out what clothes you want to wear today, I'll send share it right away.”

Minho came up to you and gave you a soft kiss on your cheek making you surprised and blush.

“Do you feel 21 already? Be all big girl for me in a while” he said, winking at you.

[…]

You spent the whole afternoon together with Minho, usually you didn't plan anything special on your birthday but he made it special this year, he took you out to do activities on a relaxed Sunday, you visited open places and explored cute locations, all the stuff of a date.

However, your best friends kept insisting that you should do their little tradition every year which consisted of spending it with them and two cakes, one bought, nice and pretty, and one experimental baked by Felix, that used to be your favorite.

Felix's call puzzled you too much, luckily you were comfortably at Minho's house, while he was doing some things and you happened to be without him around. You swallowed nervously and answered.

“Finally I can hear your voice, happy birthday” Felix said from the other side of the line with his characteristic thick voice that surprised you a little, you had a while since you haven't heard him.

“Thank you, Lix.”

“So, what are we doing today? Can I see you today?”

Oh no, you thought, you had told Hari all about it, about how you wanted to spend your day with Minho, but you couldn't tell Felix. You thought for a few seconds, looking towards Minho's direction where he left a few minutes ago, you didn't want to, you didn't want to leave him alone, but you didn't want to leave Felix either.

“Mmm I'll be with my parents” you lied, as the only feasible option.

“You'll be going out of town?” he quickly replied in astonishment.

“No, they'll be coming to my apartment.”

“Ahh then you'll be at your apartment.”

“Yes...” you replied hoping he wouldn't decide to suddenly show up at your door.

“Okay” he suddenly said cheerfully which weirded you out, “I'll see you tomorrow then, okay? Happy birthday.”

He said then cut off, you found his tone so unusual, you knew he was up to something, he wasn't good at hiding things. And the truth was that Felix had insisted to Hari to organize a surprise party for you since he wanted to see you and have a nice time, Hari disagreed since she knew perfectly well that you would be with Minho all day, since, you told her a few moments ago via text message, after she wished you happy birthday and asked about Minho: «I think this is getting serious», scaring your friend in a good way, but feeling bad for Felix.

She couldn't lie to Felix, she didn't have time to make up an excuse by saying you would be busy, and just used the old excuse that you would be with your parents; Felix knew that in a way you lied to him since yes, your story matched Hari's, spending your birthday with your parents, only Hari said you would be out of town and then you confirmed that you would be in your place. So Felix immediately called your friend and excitedly told her that they could still have the surprise party at your place with the help of your parents if only Hari would distract you for a moment, plus she was the only person who had an extra key to your apartment, to which she shouted “No!”, they didn't have to involve your parents, so finally Felix got caught in the lie.

Hari had to confess to him that you wouldn't be at your apartment evading saying the reason why you would be busy, Felix was so confused that he wanted to know what was really going on, so he insisted on hosting the party anyway at your apartment, making Hari finally give in. Meanwhile, Hari had to beg you to come to your apartment, that she wanted to see you right away and spend your birthday together with her, even though deep down, it was Felix manipulating her.

Felix spared himself in asking why you were not at your place on a Sunday and besides on your special date, to his knowledge, you had no other close friends to celebrate with, but he didn't have to ask Hari, he would soon find out by his own means, since you fucked, he noticed you weird and if that was ruining your closeness, then he was willing to forget it and continue to be your friend.

On the other hand you saw Minho come out of the hallway from which he lost his silhouette for a few minutes while he was busy with something, and returned to you with a smile and two elegant little boxes.

“Happy birthday” he repeated, handing you both boxes placing them in the palms of his hands.

You smiled softly at him and took both boxes, assuming they were jewelry and indeed, in one of was a nice thin golden ring with details of small diamonds embedded and, in the other, a silver ring with small differences in the design.

“I don't quite know if you wear gold or silver so I brought you both” spoke Minho trying to act cool.

You looked at him with a smile and leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you. I think with my outfit goes the silver one.”

Minho let out air in a soft laugh and helped you put it on your middle finger.

“How did you know my ring size?” you said in amazement as you noticed it fit perfectly.

Minho drew one of his tender, complicit smiles, lifting his shoulders; he was more attentive to your details than you thought.

[…]

Hours later, you didn't want to bother Minho by telling him that you had to go to your apartment since Hari insisted on seeing you; to which he sweetly offered to be there with you if it didn't bother you, to which you replied “of course not”, you were excited that Hari finally met Minho in person, and not under a random picture that Hyunjin sent her that time when she was handling your 'dating' account.

Your friend had two choices, either you walked through that door alone, or you did it together with Minho. You were nervous on the way in wishing your apartment wasn't so messy, or that Minho wouldn't find some detail, still, you were excited because once Hari left you could fuck him in your bed, it was fun just thinking that you could do it everywhere, this morning you did it in the kitchen after you ate the delicious breakfast he prepared for you, you both still had so many parts and places to discover.

And, to the bad luck of the three of you, to Hari, Felix and you, you entered together with Minho through that door.

“Surprise!” shouted Hari and Felix at the same time as they came out from behind your couch.

But it was indeed a surprise, the smile of the three of you vanished as each of you saw each other and for Felix, as he saw you enter with another man, who was very familiar to him, Lee Minho. Felix didn't understand anything. The only one smiling there, was Minho not knowing what was going on.

“Happy birthday… y/n” Felix approached you with unsure steps without clearing his gaze from Minho. “We haven't spoken well since that day” he hugged you.

Minho immediately caught the tone he used when he remarked “that day”, what day… what was he talking about? Minho looked at you tensely, he couldn't help but get ideas and jealous in milliseconds when it came to you.

“Ah, Yongbokkie, what are you doing here?” greeted Minho with a smile while squeezing him by the arm, a little harder than usual. “Why didn't you attend my birthday yesterday?”

You gave Hari a dirty look for not warning you that Felix would be there, but suddenly Minho's tone of confidence towards Felix surprised you more than the party itself; you had completely forgotten that they knew each other, and that they greeted each other that night at Hyunjin's hotel.

“What are you doing here?” replied Felix reluctantly in disbelief.

Minho blinked innocently with a small arrogant smile on his face as he noticed the sour tone in which Felix, a junior to him, suddenly spoke to him.

“I came with y/n” he said proudly.

“What… since when do you guys even know each other?” spoke Felix again.

Felix had so many questions, his mind didn't understand how it was possible for you to suddenly hook up with Lee Minho, you didn't live in the same area, there was no medium which could connect you directly, plus he was much older than you.

“Since when did we date?” suddenly blurted out Minho, grabbing your waist, he found it amusing to play a little with the poor boy in distress, but his smile faded as he remembered that the way you met was not something you proudly explain out loud, Minho continued, provoking Felix, “She works for me and then we matched on a blind date, I guess destiny really wanted us together.”

You looked incredulously at Minho, why would he say you were dating, he never asked you to be his girlfriend, and poor Felix opened his mouth in astonishment, suddenly he went from knowing everything about you to knowing nothing. It couldn't have been a worse day for him, his heart broke trying to process everything that was going on.

“Let's eat cake, or gimbap, it's y/n's favorite” Hari interrupted hurriedly.

The air was too tense, Felix tried to calm down and saw the similarity of the two, between you and Minho, he came to the conclusion that you were both little bastards. Felix couldn't hate you and he hated himself for that, because he should be bitter, you fucked him and told him you liked him and then you ignore him and suddenly you show up with another man, what the fuck were you playing to? Felix knew Minho well, his Lee family was pretty close with Felix's Lee's; Felix's older sister had a huge crush on Minho but he never reciprocated, he thought it was odd that he reciprocated to you, to someone much younger than Minho, Felix thought the idiot liked them young, though last thing he heard it was that, he broke up with his long term girlfriend and was single, until you came along.

Minho kept looking at you tenderly while you blew out your candles on the cake after singing happy birthday to you, he decided to stop the childish nonsense behavior and focus on you, although he couldn't deny that there was that tingle of annoyance in him when he noticed Felix's negative attitude, Minho knew how to instantly recognize another jealous man, it was obvious that Felix was and, if he was like that, it was because there was a reason, for the moment Minho didn't want to give the matter a second thought because he knew he would go crazy and lose his mind when he found out that you could have been with Felix before him.

Hari was trying to soften the atmosphere, which Minho quite liked, he liked your best friend so much that he almost forgot that she is or was also part of that shady place where he met you, as Hari was currently with Chan, another close friend of his. After eating, Minho asked you softly where your bathroom was, to which you answered that it was down the hallway, to the left, and when he went into it, he could not help but notice that in front of it was your room, since the door was open. Curiosity flooded Minho and he slipped in without anyone being able to see him, he smiled as he breathed in the nice scent it had despite being a little messy, you had clothes on your bed, on your desk chair, shopping mall bags still on the floor and your closet open…. yet he inspected every detail, he had liked your apartment, you entered through the door, to the left was the small kitchen with its countertop, off to the left was the narrow laundry room; in the short entrance hallway was another closet, opposite the entrance was your living room decorated with bookshelves, your TV, and through the window diagonally to your living room, your dining room and finally to the right, the narrow hallway leading to your bedroom and across from the bathroom. Still, he thought you were worthy of a larger space, where all your clothes could fit and not be cluttered… and then, on your desk, a picture of you and Felix, smiling in what appeared to be a theater, Minho grimaced, thinking that he must really be special to you since you had no other picture of anything or anyone.

Minho came out and spent some time talking to Hari, while Felix remained silent, thinking he had to talk to you, but alone. Once it got later, you saw them leave, not without Felix first confirming in a serious tone that he would talk to you tomorrow, making you nervous and reminding you that you were upset with Minho.

You closed the door and turned to see Minho annoyed, he was standing behind you, with no expression until he saw your face and raised an eyebrow. You tensed your jaw and ignored him, heading towards your room as you tried to remove your earrings, you were so angry you weren't thinking straight.

“You need to leave, now” you told him curtly turning your back on him.

Minho immediately reacted offended and followed you, you didn't want him to be there so you wanted to push him away from your door, but he was through reaching his arms out towards the door frame.

“What happened now, why are you upset?” he also replied somewhat defensively.

You raised your gaze looking at him, mad again.

“Why? Why did you have to say I'm your girlfriend, you never asked me to and you lied with that blind date thing” you exploded suddenly, without thinking too much, maybe it was just because of the heated moment and seeing Felix's hurt look after Minho told him that tactlessly.

Minho let out a laugh unable to believe what he was hearing, he had been holding back his annoyance, but now that you decided to let it all out, he had to as well. Minho raised his eyebrows in annoyance looking down at you with authority from above and ran his tongue along his cavity, causing you to recoil until you touched the edge of your bed, confused and a little afraid of his reaction.

“Why does it bother you so much if that boy knows whether we're going out or not, huh? You fucked him, didn't you?” he yelled angrily at you, his hands on his hips and the vein in his neck standing out, his eyes widened further, that wasn't all he had to say, “So what if I lied saying how we met, or do you want the whole world to know that I met you being a fucking whore?”

You stared into his manic eyes as your breathing became heavy, that last one had hurt you, he was right, he had the right to be ashamed of how you met; you didn't want to see him anymore, he had never yelled at you like that, you dropped onto your bed, staring at the floor, suddenly you wanted to cry.

“And of course I want you to be my girlfriend, I want you to be mine and if you plan to reject me, then tell me now and I won't waste my time” Minho ran his hand across his jaw annoyed diverting his gaze to your window.

You couldn't speak, your heart was pounding, you thought about how he wasn't even your boyfriend yet and you were already fighting and he felt ashamed of you, how the fuck was something like that going to work. You really liked him but hearing the truth hurt too much, maybe you will always be different? You raised your gaze to see him, your eyes slightly crystallized, Minho sighed in exasperation as he noticed the silence and knew he over opened his mouth, once again he said hurtful things and confirmed it when he turned to see you, sitting on your bed looking at him with glowing eyes and a slight pout. He felt horrible, he would never forgive himself for leaving you like that; why did he have to be himself and be aggressive to the one person he wants to take such good care of in the world.

“Y/n, I…” he tried to remedy himself.

“Just go away, Minho. Get out of my sight now” you sighed tiredly and sadly and cut off eye contact.

Minho denied softly and knelt down in front of you seeking your gaze.

“Don't be like this please, it's your special day” he tried to cheer you up, as Minho didn't know how to apologize, “Let me make it up to you, yes?” he tried to take your chin, but you rejected him, you wished he would get away from you because once close, you couldn't think straight, “You shouldn't be like this… I will make it up to you so much…” he whispered softly running his gentle hands down your naked thighs under your dress.

You hated yourself so much, you wanted to hit him and push him away, he had called you a whore to your face and now he sought to please you, you thought if you weren't something else for him to take his sexual discharge with… but it would be hypocritical of you to blame him, because you adored every touch of him that you couldn't let his hands leave your body.

“Minho, don’t…” you whispered a little excitedly placing your hand over his that he was slowly stimulating your clitoris through the underwear fabric, that morning he had told you to walk only in your underwear under your dress just for him.

“What do you want huh…?” he murmured seductively with his mouth half open concentrating on making gentle circles over your spot with his fingertips, “You want me to stop… to go away… just say the word and I'll do it in a second.”

You couldn't speak, you were already so aroused that you moaned at the feel of his fingers at your sensitive entrance. You wanted him to apologize. And as if Minho read your mind, he took your hand and positioned it on his cheek.

“I'm sorry” he said sincerely looking at you with his huge sharp eyes, “Please forgive me, y/n.” he whimpered.

Minho didn't want to let you go, he would beg for you if necessary.

“Let me show you how sorry I am” he said leaving innocence behind and slowly slid your panties over your legs, once again caressing your wet pussy.

Minho grabbed your thighs and pulled you closer to him, lifted your dress and started eating your cunt.

[…]

You had never felt so nervous in college, not even in your final exams to how you did now. At any moment Felix could appear and want to talk.

You cautiously continued your classes and it wasn't until after lunch when Felix fixedly summoned you to talk on a bench near his faculty. You were nervous and felt strange.

Felix had overthought it, he loved you so much that if you were happy… he would seek his own happiness too.

However, his thoughts were more structured and mature than with what he was about to tell you, what was in his mind did not match his mouth, his heart had betrayed him.

“I just want you to tell me you love him, say you love Minho and only then can I back off.”

Felix cursed himself for saying it that way, he didn't want to sound aggressive, he had a rehearsed dialogue to say, but it just didn't work for him.

You looked into his eyes. Nothing. you felt nothing but guilt; you wanted to cry, to beg the universe that if it had always been Felix you wouldn't be suffering. It was never in your plans to be that kind of girl, that no matter what she did, she would end up hurting someone, much less had you planned to meet Minho but… you couldn't stay away from him; you didn't know if it was love, he and you still weren't on good terms since yesterday, he only fucked you to try to remedy it but he left you more ruined, especially his sweet after sex care.

“We just… we just started to date…” you said without thinking.

“You're dating him without being in love?” interrupted Felix and for a second he wanted to ask what bothered him the most, are you dating him for money?

Felix wasn't dumb, since a week ago you wear nicer and more expensive clothes, your countenance shines more, you stopped working the rest of your part time jobs.

“I… I can't leave Minho.”

“Why?” he asked.

Why, you asked yourself.

[…]

That afternoon you had to follow Minho to another of his meetings, you still didn't talk to him properly, you just said “yes, no” and ignored him every time he tried to tell you something. It wasn't him, you thought, it was you, you were hurt by Felix, and it hurt you that you liked and needed him so much, that's why you hated falling in love; somehow or other he had to hurt you and nothing could be as nice and pure as you wished it could be.

When you were waiting for Minho in the waiting room, the first executive came out of the room, you looked at him out of the corner of your eye but your face lit up when you saw that it was someone you knew, he also recognized you instantly and approached you to greet you. During your second semester you mistakenly took an economics class taught by him, Yang Jeongin, it was really a system error that you couldn't fix, a guy who was supposed to take economics was taking the art history class, while you were stuck in Yang’s class; you had no choice but to tell Jeongin and take his class, which he found quite funny and helped you credit his subject so it didn't affect your GPA.

Jeongin sat next to you and you began to chat comfortably, finally you could forget your anger and sadness for a few moments.

“I guess you did decide on some economics then, so well did I teach?” mentioned Jeongin as she saw you there, dressed smartly with a portfolio.

You laughed softly.

“Oh no, I work as an assistant.”

“Ahh, from whom? From knowing you were looking for that kind of job I’d hire you right when you finished the subject, never hurts a little extra help.”

Your smile faded a little, as you earnestly said his name.

“Lee Minho.”

Jeongin made a grimace that you found amusing.

“Good luck with that. He's got a reputation.”

And just as he said it, your short period of laughter and relaxation ended as you saw Minho walk out with a bunch of other men, he quickly approached you without saying a word, just looked at Jeongin heavily for seconds and then looked at you.

“Well, I have to go, Jeongin, it was nice to see you.”

“Same, anytime, cutie.”

You stood up from the sofa just like Jeongin and Minho watched him leave with his gaze glued to every step he took. Then he turned to look at you, once again with that manic look from yesterday. Minho dragged you away taking you by the arm, leading you to a private place.

“You know Yang Jeongin?” he spat raising his eyebrow.

“Yes…” you tried to answer without giving him importance and driven because he grabbed your arm tightly and started acting weird.

“Why do you know him? Did you fuck him too?” claimed Minho to you.

You opened your mouth in surprise, you wanted to claim so many things to him, how is it possible for him to get like this with a minimal interaction with a man and if he never plans to let go of your past, believing that you fucked every guy he sees you with. You didn't want to waste your energy and didn't answer him.

“Tell me, tell me now” he yelled and then almost whimpered.

You wanted to ignore him but from his anger he went to a second to looking listless, worrying you a little. This was completely ruining Minho, it wasn't enough for him to fuck you, he wanted to live under skin forever.

“I never fucked anyone but you on that stupid app, you were the first and the last and I'm sick of you never letting go of the fucking thing” you approached him annoyed.

Minho tried to catch his breath, he was feeling too much in such a short time he didn't know what was wrong with him, he had never been so obsessed and without thinking he hugged you, feeling your body for the first time after a few frustrating hours of ignoring him.

[…]

Finally it was Minho's birthday, you wished things weren't as they were now… the two of you didn't talk about anything, he just left you at home making you feel empty, why couldn't he communicate what he felt, you thought, what bothered him so much after you told him the truth, genuine and the one he wanted to hear so much.

You were determined to talk to him once you got to his office, which you were heading to, after you finished your classes, but the ringing of your phone interrupted you, it was exactly him.

“Yes?” you replied.

“What exit you take usually when you're on your way to work?”

You frowned in confusion and looked in front of you.

“By the east parking lot?” replied Minho, to which you were surprised he knew the answer, “Turn around.”

You did it slowly and there was his car standing a few yards away. You hung up, you saw him get out of his car, looking so handsome and radiant as if nothing of the last few days had affected him, you missed that Minho so much that you wanted to run into his arms, but you resisted and took your time until you reached him.

“Your boss authorized your day off today” he said sweetly with a smile, “And… I'm so sorry… don't make me feel bad in my…”

“Happy birthday” you interrupted him by placing your index finger over his lips amusedly.

Minho smiled broadly and grabbed you by the waist. You still needed a lot of answers… but seeing him so cute there, you couldn't help it, you wanted that Minho, not the one who suddenly made you cry.

“I have the best gift right now” he murmured on your lips and kissed you, enjoying every second after not doing it for more than 24 hours. “It will only be better if you agree to go with me.”

You looked at him curiously, waiting for him to continue.

“Let's drive to the beach and would you skip a couple of classes early tomorrow morning for me, yes..?” he asked tenderly.

You nodded; but you were about to speak saying you hadn't even prepared so he interrupted you.

“I prepared everything for you in the car. Please take it, I spent hours looking for the perfect makeup and clothes. Let's go now.”

You got in the car, feeling again like your first fleeting and exciting encounters. All the way Minho held your hand, sometimes shifting his hand to your thigh, and finally arriving at his beach house, he sat on a chair and positioned you on his thighs, apologizing for everything he had said and done and harshly explained that… you make him feel in a unique way. You saw him so bad, almost about to cry…you never thought you had that effect on him.

“Don't be like that on your special day” you took his chin and gently repeated the same thing he told you when he was about to make you cry.

Minho smiled sideways, caressing your thighs and kissed you softly��� he knew that maybe it was too soon to tell you I love you, so in the meantime he would make you feel his love as much as he can until he feels it's the right time to say it.

Minho squeezed your thighs and intensified the kiss, ready to show you how much he loved you, but the sudden movement of you standing up from his lap surprised him.

“You didn't bring something nice to assimilate you unwrap your gift?” you said playfully.

Minho laughed, of course he had, he wanted to make you his while you wore something nice for him; he stood up and searched through the suitcases he ordered packed for you, pulling out a nice black lingerie set decorated with bows. You didn't wait any longer and undressed in front of him, Minho bit his lip and helped you put on the lingerie giving you light touches like, rolling his hand down your pussy as he helped you put on your panties, squeezing your tits as he helped you put on the top, making you moan.

Minho stepped back a little and admired you.

“But what a beautiful gift” he moved closer to you and kissed you, “you shouldn't have…” he whispered against your lips.

Minho took you by the waist and lift you up to the stairs, to his room, you still didn't process that he had a beach house, the most normal thing in the world for him.

He started kissing you passionately, placing himself gently on top of you, he didn't stop kissing you for a moment, your lips, your jaw, your neck, while his left hand was having all the fun in the world playing with her pussy until it was well wet and lubricated. Minho pulled you up, he wanted to bury his face in your tits as he made you his, so he quickly removed his tight pants, running his hand down his length a little, you were ready to feel it, no matter how much it hurt, as your feelings for him. And he fucked you with your nice outfit on, holding you tightly around your waist making you fall heavily on his cock, taking it all, making you whimper with pleasure. Minho continued until he cummed and stained your beautiful garment.

You were panting non-stop, and no, the best part for you was not the orgasm, but the sweet caresses and words Minho was telling you after finishing sex… that's when you had an answer, it was hard for you to admit it and a little uncomfortable but, there was no doubt that you had fallen in love with him.

You came out of Minho, exhausted and a mess, a couple of minutes later pushing you over the edge; he still with his breath hitching, gently took your body and lay down next to you, putting his arm behind your head for support.

“Did you like it, princess?”

You nodded apologetically with your cheeks red.

“You were wonderful, I couldn't have had a better birthday present” he began to stroke your hair.

“Welcome to thirty” you told him amused.

“Can I be your boyfriend now? I'll treat you very well, princess.”

You were startled, you thought he would never say it, still you commented to him amused:

“Thirty affected your brain, you shouldn't mix birthdays with anniversaries. I do want to be your girlfriend, but let's celebrate the 26th, because when it's October 25th it will only be about you” you said enthusiastically, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek.

--------------------

₊˚⊹ ᰔ TAGLIST: @stayceebs97 @linocz @kimseungminsprincess @xhazmania @strayzid @jisunglyricist

[stxrvel]

coincidence! (2)

series summary. the holy grail of the seven men who ruled the country's entertainment used to be your friends at school. now, ten years later and between successes and failures, what reason would they have to want to come back into your life? pairing. eventually ot7 x f!reader. content. first of all, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes! curse words, we're still on the safe zone, angst if you squint, just silly writing! a/n. hi guys! finally second chapter is out! im blown away with your response!! thank u so much from the bottom of my heart! i loooooved reading your comments <33 pls remember updates are weekly or biweekly! and if you want to be tagged pls say so in the comments! see you next week ;)

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“This is unbelievable! We're going to be rich!!!” 

“What makes you think my sister is going to give you any of that money?” 

“I created that Instagram account that was tagged in Kim Taehyung's damn story, I deserve a raise!” 

“What makes you drones think my daughter is going to give you any of that money?”

“None of you are going to get anything out of that act of feigned innocence. Honey, are you all right?”

It seemed like a light had gone on in the room, four pairs of eyes landing on your still pale, surprised face. The night had been heavy after Yuna's call and you'd had so little sleep that you didn't know how you were functioning at the moment. Maybe that was the thing: you weren't functioning at all.

When you woke up, you thought it had all been a bad dream and that definitely the first exposure you'd had to the guys in years hadn't been because Taehyung came across your books at a convention you decided not to go to and uploaded them to his Instagram account with over eighty million followers. It was impossible, wasn't it? Too crazy. 

Maybe not as crazy as waking up to your parents banging on your bedroom door saying that over a hundred thousand orders had been placed overnight and they didn't have enough book production for that much demand. 

Be that as it may, Yuna and your mother took care of the communications on the account. You went from having twenty followers (including your family and friends —your father had created an account exclusively for that and only followed you—), to almost sixty thousand in at least twelve hours. The posts you had worked so hard to create and put together were finally getting the attention they deserved, but it had all happened so fast and suddenly that it was too strong to process calmly. 

Weighing which was stronger, whether Taehyung's acknowledgment of your existence after so many years of zero contact or that your book sales shot up so immeasurably that they couldn't even keep up with demand, even if a month went by, didn't make things any easier. 

“She's obviously still in shock,” Yuna replied to your mother at your lack of response from the living room, right across the dining room where you had been sitting since you had come down from your room. Your breakfast was still untouched on the table, but that seemed to be the least important thing in the room with all the more important news. 

“Have the printers answered yet?” your brother's voice through the speaker of your father's phone rang as you blinked, reality settling too slowly on your shoulders. You didn't even want to think about what it meant that Taehyung had done that. Maybe it was simply an altruistic act, wasn't it? Maybe he felt guilt and wanted to ameliorate it somehow. What better way than to do an act of charity?

“I'm on it,” your father was sitting across from you in the dining room, his laptop on the glass of the table as he moved his hands over the keyboard and stared through his glasses at the full tip of his nose. From the way his eyes narrowed, your mother snorted. 

“Why don't you get those glasses adjusted if you know you don't see well up close, let alone on electronic devices?” the woman reached over, dragging your father's glasses until they were almost glued to his eyebrows. Your father barely gave her a goofy grin as your mother started shaking her hands. “You better move. I'll do it. You write too slow; you're getting on our son's nerves.” 

“Nah, I'm fine. I don't know if y/n is tho.” 

Silence returned and you growled internally. Well, that was enough conjecture and assumptions without any information to substantiate them, it was time to get down to business. 

 “Do you think we should take over this business now?” Yuna completely ignored your stretch and you sent her a confused look. 

Your brother exclaimed from the phone in agreement. “I call dibs on the treasury!” 

“There's no way you can keep the accounts right! You're studying law.” 

“Seojun is good at numbers, Yuna.” 

 “Ha, with all due respect Mrs. I/n, he must only be good at counting sheep.”

 “Hey,” you tried to get attention, getting up from the chair. 

 “y/n, don't talk, you're still in shock. Can you believe he once called me from the supermarket to ask if he got his change right? He didn't even move from the checkout counter. There were people booing him.” 

 “Ow, my poor baby.” 

 “I told you not to say that to anyone!” 

 “I can't keep quiet if they're speaking lies about you!” 

 “This wasn't lies! This is about my pride!” 

 “Nonsense. I'll handle the treasury. I double majored in finance and international relations for a reason.” 

 “You can't run anything without starting bossing everyone around!” 

 “It's not my fault you're a good-for-nothing!” 

 God. It was going to be a long day. 

- 

Sorting out the whole printing issue and the number of orders was difficult, but with a couple of stories, interactions with new followers and express delivery of the few copies you'd already had at home for months, the waters calmed down a bit. Now, in the stifling silence of your room, you wanted to run. 

 “Are you going to stare at the ceiling all night?” 

 “Maybe.” 

Yuna watched you from the bed while all you could do was stare as notifications continued to pop up on your Instagram account and your mail because the requests simply wouldn't stop, even though you had made a thousand clarifications to all the new followers. You were trying to focus on the bright side of things, regardless of whatever reasons there may have been for everything to have happened that way, but with your friend's incessant gaze lying on your bed it made it a little difficult. You knew she wanted to pierce your skull from curiosity, but you wouldn't know how you would answer her questions. 

 “Is there anything you'd like to share with the class?” 

 The tension had become a little more latent during the last few minutes, when Yuna saw a specific notification on the account. Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin had followed you. To describe your look of shock might be an understatement, and all you did for the next half hour was run across the room and throughout the house vociferating that you were living a nightmare. 

 Yuna has known all along that you had never been a fan of the siamese or their clan of friends, but she never knew why exactly. You had to tell her that you weren't interested in fashion, that you didn't like the kind of music Jungkook made, that hip-hop was never your thing, that you weren't interested in dilfs and you weren't interested in dance either. You had to tell her that all the things you once did with them didn't matter to you because it was painful, even if it was hard to accept.

 You couldn't remember the times you would go shopping at the small mall in town to buy the trending clothes to put together different outfits with Taehyung and Jimin, then go try them all on at your house and invite the others and even your parents to do an impromptu runway show. You couldn't remember how the genre of music that Jungkook and you listened to all the time on his iPod and your MP3 player was the same one that his entire music career focuses on. You couldn't remember the nights when Yoongi would share his writings with you and you would help him compose a song or two on the piano when he felt brave enough. Or the times when you would accompany Hoseok to his workouts and then watch him create dance routines to his favorite songs while Jungkook sang in the background. You also didn't want to remember the times when Namjoon and Seokjin would sponsor their trips and give everyone gifts without expecting anything in return. 

You couldn't remember those things. It was too much to bear for such a weak heart. 

“What do you want to know?” you sighed, your body sliding on the chair as the notifications grew. 

“How did all this happen?” 

“Why do you think I have an answer for that?” 

Yuna clicked her tongue, sitting on the bed with the cell phone still in her hands, still staring at the notification that snapped her out of her sanity. 

“It's just… this is all unbelievable, magnificent and unreal. But how come you're not so excited about what happened?” Yuna slid across the sheets, to be right in front of you, but you refused to look away from the computer. Every time you thought you had overcome and grown around everything that happened so many years ago, something would pop up to remind you that you still had a long way to go. Maybe the nostalgia was strong, but so was the anger. “Regardless of how things turned out, because I know you're not as big a fan as me, this opens a million doors for you and I don't know why you're not celebrating it like we are.” 

 “It's…complicated.” 

 “I don't think so. Tell me.” 

Yuna was unstoppable when she wanted to get answers out, but besides the obvious, of course there was something else that bothered you and kept you from enjoying this boom so much. 

 “It's just that all of this doesn't feel like it was a product of my effort,” you began, letting your gaze wander over the desk. The copies of your books you kept for yourself, the first ones you'd ever printed several years ago, lay there, as tattered as your failed accomplishment. “It doesn't feel like an achievement that my work had exploded thanks to a celebrity whose fans would buy even the toilet paper he uses. A lot of those people won't even read the book. They will just buy it and take a picture of it to say that they have the same book that the great Kim Taehyung read. Many of those books will never have a life, they will just be dust collectors and be reminders that all this did not happen because of my effort.” 

“What the fuck are you blabbering about? Of course it's the fruit of your effort! Of course you deserve it!” Yuna got up from the bed and moved the chair around the back to leave you in front of her disgruntled and almost offended face. You could see the words drawn in her face. “You worked so many years to pull this off and after so many bumps you finally can! You deserve to have what you wanted so badly. This recognition will last just the same because many other people will read them and love them and they may not be many, but you will form a solid foundation as time goes on with people who will be truly unconditional and supportive and that will grow over time. Don't look at this so negatively, maybe you skipped a couple of steps, but you had every right to. It was what you deserved after all the effort and dedication you put into this project for so many years.” 

 Yuna didn't hesitate for a second. Her very serious expression sent a shiver down your spine and you could tell from her furrowed brow that she really was angry at your perception. Perhaps she was right, but without knowing the full background of this specific situation, you were only left to shake your head in assent and send her a grateful smile. 

“I guess you're right,” you lifted a shoulder, turning your gaze back to your mail notifications.

“Of course I am!” the smile returned to her face and it didn't take long for her to look back down at her phone with sparkling eyes. “Now that we got the emotional charge out of the way, would you mind telling me how you know Taehyung?” 

Your breathing stopped for a second and you cursed yourself because it sounded too loud as you almost choked on your own saliva. 

“Oh?” 

Play fucking dumb. 

“What, did you think I wasn't going to notice? He wrote it crystal clear.” 

Yuna wasn't even looking at you, too focused on running her finger over the row of notifications. Her nonchalant demeanor only caused you to panic more. It was as if she had caught you red-handed. 

One of the best writers I've ever met in my life, damn you Kim Taehyung. 

“Ah… I didn't… I didn't really know him so let's just say…”

“He couldn't have said that for nothing, don't you think? No celebrity would do that unless it was a person they hold in deep regard.” 

Yuna had just caught you totally off guard. Maybe you should've focused a lot more on what Taehyung had written before you blocked his user from your personal account and threw the phone in the bottom of your drawer the night before and tried hard not to think about the rest for the rest of the night and all that day. 

“It's just that… uhm… we studied at the same school. But for a short time actually. I don't even remember it well actually, ha, ha.” 

Your laugh came out too constrained under your friend's narrow-eyed stare. You knew you'd have a hard time convincing her because you were a lousy liar. 

“You know, it always struck me as odd that you weren't a fan. Taehyung and Jimin are like the two extremes of your ideal type.” 

“Whaaaat?”

“And Jungkook's music is literally the kind of music you listen to, you just don't listen to his. All the other artists in the same genre you do listen to.”

“That has nothing to do with…” 

“And even your parents don't claim to know Kim Seokjin when your mother was literally a nurse. She probably worked with him.” 

“What does that have to do…?”  

“And your brother is a hip-hop fan. How come he doesn't listen to Agust D? He's the best rapper of the last few decades and he's been trending for a long time.” 

“…” 

At what fucking moment? 

“And all of them, plus Hobi and Namjoon, they all went to the same school. They're all friends. And you say you went to school with Taehyung?” 

“Ahm… well, yes, but it's not like I would have met the others.” 

Yuna looked at you, really looked you straight in the eyes as if that way she could tell what it was you were hiding or as if that solved all her guesses. It was impossible for her not to figure it out if she had already tied up all the damn loose ends. 

Since the boys had left one by one, clearly your family was the first to realize how much their departures had affected you. In the beginning there was communication and all, but when Jungkook was the last to leave you lost any kind of link with them completely. You never knew exactly what happened because no matter how hard you tried to contact them you couldn't, not even your parents could talk to the boys' parents. Perhaps they had simply grown up, matured, completely forgetting about their ordinary life in that town. 

They seemed to have disappeared from the planet. 

Until your family moved to the capital. Jungkook was just starting out as an idol, but he had an amazing debut. He had captivated the entire audience and was too successful almost from the second one. It was a torment to watch them grow professionally little by little because, although you were happy for their achievements and all, you couldn't forget that they had basically abandoned you. And your parents and Seojun had noticed. They had noticed how much seeing them all over the place was bumming you out, so unreachable when at one point they were all in your living room eating your mother's delicious kimchi and listening to your father's anecdotes. Everyone was affected by their departures, but clearly no one as much as you. 

That's why, of course, your parents and brother had made a silent vow to keep all media about the boys away from you, because they didn't even talk about it by accident in the house, at least not when you were present. 

“It must be a huge coincidence…” Yuna continued and only at that moment did you realize how much you got into your head. Your vision slightly blurred. “I shouldn't accuse you of anything for things like that, should I? What nonsense.” 

You were probably as white as a sheet of paper. 

“Yeah, it would be too weird… ha, ha.” 

God, you had to stop letting out those giggles when you were nervous. 

“Anyway, should we order fried chicken for dinner?” 

“I think I heard mom say she was going to make japchae.” 

“Ohhhhhh, Mrs. l/n's japchae is delicious!” 

You let out a laugh watching your friend spring up from the bed and head for the door. She stopped halfway out and pointed her index finger at you. 

“Don't tell my mom I said that.” 

You made a gesture to zipper your mouth shut and Yuna finally left. 

The previous conversation had been so tense that you already felt tired and ready to sleep at seven o'clock at night. Really the whole day had been so heavy for everyone that you didn't know how the lights in the house were still on. For now, you couldn't do anything else, even if orders continued to come in, now everything depended on the printer and how fast the books would come out, so you would have to wait. 

Maybe you should rest. You had asked your boss for the day off, but tomorrow you would have to continue working hard. Regardless of the incredible growth you'd had, you couldn't let your work go to waste. 

Tomorrow would be a new day. A quieter one, preferably. 

-

a/n: i'll try to have ready part 3 for next week! see you on june 13 at 11:59 pm - GMT5 time!

tag: @rinkud @futuristicenemychaos @pastelpeachess @parapiop7 @kokoandkookie @midiplier @thunderg @lizzymizzy-blogg @ladymorrie @butnotmontana @lovelgirl22 @jjeonjjk7 @aurorathi @ot7stansthings @kunacat @borahaetelevision @mylovingstars @ghostlyworld @talyaaas-blog @slowlyshycomputer @jjk174 @maynina @saintomie @damn-u-min-yoongi @juju-227592

[guiltyasdave]

come morning light

chapter 2 • series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: An injured Joel and Ellie stumble into your home in the middle of the night. Against your better judgement, you decide to help them.

word count: ~2.5k

tags/warnings: post outbreak, slow burn, found family, age gap (sorry not sorry), able-bodied reader, angst, reader has a sad sad backstory and ptsd, hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual smut, vague description of an injury

a/n: i'm finally finished with chapter 2, and once again nervous af about it haha. there's not terribly much happening in this one, but i promise we'll get there, it just needs the buildup :)

thank you @catchallfangirl for beta reading <3

follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for fic updates and find my full masterlist here :)

dividers as always by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

You don’t feel like you’ve slept at all, but after hours of tossing and turning in the darkness of your bedroom, you think it’s probably time to get up. 

You’re halfway convinced that last night’s events were a product of your imagination, that your mind has felt so lonely that it conjured up the whole scenario. But when you step out of your bedroom and find the door of your parents’ bedroom only halfway closed, the way you have never left it before saying good night to Ellie earlier, you have to come to terms with the fact that this might actually be your reality. 

Ellie seems to be sound asleep, a lump under the covers, softly breathing, but when you head to the living area and switch on one of the smaller lamps, you’re met with the piercing glare of Joel. He’s still lying on the couch, much like you left him, still pale, still dark shadows under his eyes, but he’s much more awake now, his gaze following your every move. 

“Hey,” you say softly, sinking down on the same armchair that you sat in when you watched him last night while Ellie took a shower. You suppress a shudder at the way he regards you, his eyes flicking up and down your body, taking in your size, you presume, searching for weapons. Your gun is tucked into the waistband at the back of your pants, which you’re sure he’s already aware of. You don’t like the way he makes you feel, like somehow you’re intruding on him. You should have the upper hand, this is your home and he’s injured, you helped him for crying out loud, and here you are, nervously watching his every move. You did the right thing. It’s gonna be fine. 

“Where’s Ellie?” he asks, ignoring your greeting, his voice gruff. 

“Sleeping,” you reply, nodding your head to the bedroom door. “She’s okay, I promise.” 

Some of the tension seems to release from his body and he slumps back down a little, but the distrust in his expression when he looks at you doesn’t waver. Then again, you’re probably not much different. 

“Look,” you sigh, “I’m not playing some kind of game here. You came into my house, I saw that you needed help, so I helped.” You try to infuse your voice with as much confidence as you can. “Don’t make me regret that, okay?” 

He shrugs, a noncommittal grunt the only verbal answer. It could potentially be interpreted as a thanks, you guess. In a less tense situation, you’d probably grow annoyed by now. Shrugging yourself, you get to your feet and head to the kitchen. Anything to escape the way he’s watching your every movement.

“Hey, do you want coffee?” You don’t really want to offer him any, but you’d feel weird drinking it yourself without asking. 

He pipes up at the question, head turning in your direction, his face the most open that you’ve seen it yet. “You have coffee?” 

“Yeah.” That’s why I’m fucking asking. 

“I– yes.” A breath, a second of him not meeting your eyes. “Thanks.” 

You smile, small, fleetingly, busying yourself with the ground beans and the boiling water, reveling in the smell that slowly spreads throughout the room. It reminds you of happier times, when the world was still normal. 

He has pushed himself into a sitting position, breathing heavily, when you walk over to hand him the steaming cup, still careful to keep your distance. 

After you sit back down, the both of you stay silent for a few minutes. You enjoy the bitter taste on your tongue, the way you slowly feel your energy rising. 

“Does it hurt much?” you ask eventually, gesturing towards his stomach. 

Another grunt, the hint of a head shake. 

“So it does.” He opens his mouth, the protest most likely already on his tongue, and you raise an eyebrow. “I have painkillers, are you sure that you–”

“No.” It comes fast, his voice raised, no room for arguments.

You instinctively flinch back at the unexpected louder sound, the cup shaking in your grip. You set it down on the table in front of you. Have your hands free, just in case.

There’s a hint of regret in his eyes, his free hand slightly raised, palm open. He’s trying to calm you down, you realize. 

“Okay,” you breathe, working hard to keep your voice steady, “no painkillers, got it.” 

“Sorry,” he mutters, his face half hidden, words almost lost behind the cup. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“It’s alright,” you tell him as much as yourself. 

You’ve gotten jumpy, not used to loud sounds anymore, raised voices, not used to humans in general, you suppose. You hadn’t fully realized it until now, until there’s other humans around you again.

“Thank you,” he continues unexpectedly, “not just for the coffee, but– you know.” He’s struggling, the words not coming easily, but you think that he’s being earnest. “Patching me up.”

“Of course.” You nod hastily, your heart still beating a little too fast. 

Another moment passes in silence, both of you slowly sipping the coffee. He’s looking around, taking in his surroundings, eyes lingering on the closed wooden doors and the stairs leading up. You try not to get nervous about it. It’s normal that he would want to know more about where he is, after all. 

“This is the basement, right? Is it safe?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe. “No way to get in from outside.” As long as you stay inside, you’re safe.

He hums, appreciatively, you think.

“How long have you been living here?” 

“Always. It’s my parents’ house. I mean–” you laugh, but it comes out hollow, “we lived upstairs, obviously. But my dad was… kinda crazy. Or– not that crazy, I guess, all things considered.” Your lips curl into a wry smile. 

Your mind flashes back to long lectures about survival techniques, learning how to shoot, your father going on and on about first aid, hunting, all the things that you couldn’t have cared less about as a teenage girl, but were ingrained in your brain nonetheless. You’re grateful, now, but it’s laced with guilt about how often you snapped at your father, how often you told him he was paranoid, seeing dangers that weren’t there, that he was wasting your time. You couldn’t have known, the rational part of you argues. But you can never take it back now, the guilt whispers. 

When you look up, Joel’s eyes are on you, eyebrows raised in question. You shake your head, trying to clear it. Stay in the present.

“Sorry, what did you–?” 

Worry is painting his expression. “Are you okay?” 

Don’t show weakness. “Yeah, of course. Just spaced out for a second.” 

You force a smile onto your face and stand up rather abruptly, gathering both cups and putting them into the sink. Joel hasn’t moved, but you feel his eyes on you as you move. 

“Do you, um, do you want to shower, maybe? Or just wash up, I don’t know, how–” You gesture towards the dried bloodstain on his flannel, forcefully keeping your tone light. “I have clean clothes, too, if you want.” 

A shiver runs through you at the thought of going through your dad’s things, of someone else wearing them. He doesn’t need them anymore. He’s not coming back. 

You know that you’ve gone silent for too long again even before you see Joel’s expression. He doesn’t ask this time, but there’s something in his eyes that you can’t place, something that almost looks like understanding. 

“Yeah, I guess cleaning up a bit would be nice. I– thank you. Again” 

His voice is gruff and he avoids your eyes. You think that he doesn’t like it, having to thank you. Owing you. 

Giving him a nod, you head to the bedroom, hoping not to disturb Ellie, but she’s awake already, her eyes glinting in the light that’s falling into the dark room from the living area. You clench your jaw, heading for one of the drawers, trying hard not to think about what you’re doing. It’s not like he ever wore this stuff, it was just sitting down here. It’s fine, you’re fine. 

“Don’t worry, it’s not about you,” Ellie says quietly from beside you, breaking through your racing thoughts. 

You turn towards her, confusion on your face. “What is?”

“Joel,” she shrugs, still keeping her voice low. “He’s like that with everyone. He’s a bit of an asshole, really.” She sounds fond, saying it, like it’s an endearing character trait. 

A surprised laugh escapes you. “I– okay, thanks, I guess.” 

She waves it away, swinging her feet out of the bed. “No, thank you for not murdering me in my sleep.” 

“Yeah, likewise.” You shake your head, still laughing to yourself. It’s so easy to like the girl, to feel like you already know her. 

You hand Joel a pile of clothes, purposefully avoiding to look at them too closely, explain where the towels are and he grumbles his approval before the bathroom door closes behind him. 

You release a breath and close your eyes for a second. You are undeniably warming up to Ellie, finding it almost impossible not to, but her companion is a different story. 

“Hey, do you drink coffee?” you ask in the direction of the bedroom. 

“Ew, no!” comes her reply as she steps out of the door, collecting the wild mess of hair on the top of her head and securing it in a ponytail.

Her offense at the mere suggestion makes you chuckle under your breath as you busy yourself with preparing breakfast in the form of porridge instead. She’s leaning against the doorframe, watching you, her eyes wide as she takes in the cupboards full of supplies. 

You’re glad that you don’t need anything from the storeroom, keeping that door in the corner firmly closed. You want to trust her, want to trust them, but a feeling of unease still lingers at the thought of letting them know just how much you have.

Instead, you voice another question, a thought that fills you with unease as well. 

“Hey,” you begin, keeping your eyes trained on the stove, “I’m sorry, but you and Joel, there– there isn’t anything weird going on, is there?” 

“Like what?” She sounds slightly defensive, but when you steal a glance at her, she’s eyeing you with curiosity. 

“I don’t know, like…” You shrug, stirring the mixture of water and oats, “you want to be here, he’s not forcing you to come with him or anything, right?” 

“No, don’t worry about that,” comes her reply, almost amused. It was a bit of a stupid question, when you think about it, considering how worried she was about him last night, how protective. 

“Okay,” you smile at her. You’re curious nonetheless, how they ended up together and where they’re headed, but it’s probably not really your place to ask. 

You divide the porridge into three bowls and hand her one, while you carry yours and one for Joel back to the living area and set them down on the wooden table. 

Ellie starts shoveling the food down immediately and you’re left wondering once more what happened to them and when they last ate something. 

“So…” Ellie begins, her mouth still half full, “you’re just down here with all this food? Because your dad stored it here, before… things went to shit?” 

You can’t blame her for her curiosity, you’re aware that you’ve probably found yourself in a better living situation than most people. Your thoughts go to the storeroom again, basically stuffed with enough supplies to last you multiple lifetimes, especially now that it’s just… No.

You hum in affirmation, not trusting your voice and you’re thankful that she’s too distracted by her breakfast to notice anything weird about your reaction. 

“So you don’t go out hunting or anything?” comes her next question. You freeze. 

You did go hunting, back when you cared about variance in the meals you prepared, about using fresh ingredients when you could. Until there was no need for that any more. 

You realize that Ellie is saying your name, not for the first time, judging from the look on her face. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, your hands tightening around the bowl. “No, I- I don’t go hunting.”

If she finds the situation weird, she shrugs it off impressively fast. 

She nods to herself, eating quietly for a minute, before she speaks up again. “So what do you… do? Down here all day?” 

“Uh…” What is it that you do all day? Time has been blurring together, days without anything happening repeating on a constant loop. You realize that you don’t remember, can’t talk of any activities that are part of your day. How long has it been like this?

You’re relieved from having to answer by Joel emerging from the bathroom, his face pale and his breaths going heavy. He has put on the sweatpants you gave him, but his torso is bare, the skin around the injury still an angry red. 

He sinks back down into the cushions with a heavy sigh and you quickly get to work, cleaning the wound once more and giving him more antibiotics before you redo the bandages and hope for the best. Your hands don’t shake as badly as they did last night. 

Ellie gets him some water and pushes his bowl of porridge into his hands, urging him to eat, before she turns to you. She’s trying to be strong, to hide her worry, but the pleading look in her eyes when she asks you if he’s gonna be okay tells a different story. 

“Of course,” you say, giving her what you hope to be a reassuring smile. 

Joel does look better after he’s eaten something, but his eyelids are drooping and after a few more minutes, his eyes close and his breath evens out. You do the dishes and check the cameras, calming down a bit more when you’re sure that everything seems to be quiet upstairs. 

When you return to the living area, Ellie is rummaging through her pack, muttering to herself, until she pulls a book out of, proudly turning the cover for you to read it. No pun intended - Volume Too.

She starts reading them to you while you settle back down with a second cup of coffee and you share her laughs, enjoying the way it makes her look lighter, allows her to be a kid who can laugh at stupid jokes. You ignore the sting it causes in your chest because you once knew someone who would have loved this book just as much as Ellie does.

thank you for reading 🤍 if you liked this, please consider reblogging, leaving a comment or sending an ask, it truly makes my day every single time!