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0rgell · 4 months

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Lovesickness - Taemin Oneshot

Masterlist

Pairing: Taemin (SHINee) x OC (Story is written in 2nd person)

Genre: Explicit, angst

Word Count: 3.2k words

You can also find this story on: AO3

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Summary:

Taemin's been so busy with his comebacks and you're annoyed at Taemin for accidentally locking Ddaeng in the bathroom all day. He doesn't take your annoyance well, but he makes up for it in the morning. Basically, smut with a little plot.

I'm back with a one shot, finally! It's been a while since I've posted anything but here we are~.

I do not own Taemin or his cats and this is just fiction.

I've got some stories in the making that are coming along well, so I hope everyone looks forward to them🌸

I'd like to thank @skzhocomments for being my beta reader (she's got really good stories).

Please enjoy!

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Lovesickness

Taemin’s been working so hard for his next comeback and so hard it seems as if he’s forgotten about you. You watch him as he comes back every day and chucks himself into bed and then you watch him leave in the morning after having a shower. As much as you love him, you hate being forgotten but you don’t want to get in between him and his work. It’s always been like that. And you would lose against his work anyway. It’s his life. You once asked him if he lives to work or works to live and he did not say the latter. The balance is unhealthy and his work is his priority at the moment so you just have to wait and try not to get pissed off. But you feel neglected in every way possible. You still remember his last solo comeback and the stress from it, Never Gonna Dance Again : Act 2 and then he went to the military. You were so excited for him to come back home and spend time with you. You missed him so much that it felt like hell. But SM got more of him than you have in years because then there was Hard and now there's Guilty. And you feel guilty for wanting him to stop working on it and just come and smother you in affection.

You feel stupid for not having noticed it earlier, for being so close-minded that you had observed the life of being with an idol only superficially. If you had known, then you doubt you would have rejected Taemin’s advances or his proposal anyway, but you wish you knew what you were getting yourself into from the get-go. He had a way to charm; he was cheeky and cute and his smile had this boyish charm to it. Now he’s like a brick wall, unsociable, and everything you say to him only receives one word answers. You never know if he’s actually listening to you and it frustrates you to no end.

The look Kkong gives you and the nudge of her head tells you to get out of your head and feed her. Because you may as well be the catsitter, the amount of communication you get from Taemin. So you do. You get up, grab the cat's food bowls and walk into the kitchen. As you open the cupboard, you let out a long sigh, grabbing the wet food and emptying it into the bowls. Kkong is already at your feet so you bend down and let her eat as you run your hand along her body. Ddaeng is nowhere to be seen so you call out for him and when he doesn’t come, you worry. You put the food bowl down on the side and start walking around the apartment, calling his name frantically like a lunatic. When you get to the bedroom, you hear a muffled meow from the bathroom so you open it quickly. Ddaeng is sat there looking up at you and you swear you’re going to kill Taemin. You left before him today because you had extra work to catch up on. So that means Ddaeng’s been stuck in the bathroom all day. You bend down to pick up your baby and talk to him, telling him it’s okay and then walk to the kitchen with him in your arms, popping him down on the counter and letting him eat on there. He deserves it after the day he had.

You sit back down on the sofa and turn on the TV, staring at it completely immersed in thought and you just can’t believe Taemin had locked Ddaeng in the bathroom. You stew on it and get angrier and angrier, minutes of stewing turn into hours and during that time, Kkong and Ddaeng come and busy themselves in your lap. The sound of the door pin being inserted and the door opening catches your attention. Taemin comes in silence and ignores you, walking straight to the bedroom after he changed his shoes to slippers.

You turn off the TV and grab both cats, one under each arm, earning a squeak from Kkong, which you are quick to apologise for. Taemin is already face planted on the bed, clothes unchanged: messy hair, which is now brown and long, one slipper hanging on for its dear life, a white wrinkled t-shirt with sweat stains from dancing, and grey joggers—joggers that left nothing to the imagination—and you just couldn’t help but stare and then tell yourself off for thinking things that were so not appropriate for your mood. Blinking in disbelief, you walk over to the bed and sit down, letting the babies free as they prance over to Taemin. You can’t help but call them traitors in your head. “Taemin?” you say, trying to take the edge off your voice.

He lifts his head only slightly before making a grunt and lazily stretching his hand out to pet the cat. You smile, hoping the lingering side-eye you give him warns of best behaviour. “Ddaeng was stuck in the bathroom all day.” You tell him, trying to swallow down the venom that is coating your tongue.

“Why?”

Inexplicable fury blooms in your chest. "YOU—" You need to calm down if you want this conversion to go anywhere. “You trapped him in there. I know you don’t care about me, but you could at least care about the cats!”

He sighs. “He’s fine, though.” Taemin's apathetic behaviour irritates you and a scream is threatening to come out, clawing its way up your throat. You hold it in and put your head in your hands at wit’s ends.

"Still, you need to be responsible. He’s a cat, not a human. If he’s stuck, he can’t get out, and he could have hurt himself trying.” You say reproachfully, stuck on the fact that he won’t just say sorry and that he won’t do it again.

Taemin sits up suddenly and shoots you a glare, brat, and he walks off to the bathroom. You hear him turn on the water and brush his teeth and you can’t get over the fact that he just walked off and glared at you. Taemin has always been like this; he always sulks when being told off and never takes responsibility for his actions. At first, you thought it was cute. He’d pout and pout and wrinkle his nose until you let it go without an apology. But you got sick of it soon because he wouldn’t let it go if it was the other way around. Whatever, you also need to brush your teeth, so you follow, and when you get in the bathroom, you open your mouth to tell him to give your tooth brush, but he cuts you off, starting harshly, “Stop going on about it. I just want to go to sleep. Just-ease up.” ending tiredly.

So you say nothing and somehow your heart clenches and you feel it throbbing. through your body resonating in your chest and you think you heard it crack. No, it is just the toothpaste lid. Taemin’s gotten your tooth brush and put a pea of toothpaste on it. He shoves it into your hand and you start brushing your teeth mechanically, like a robot. But, even after brushing your teeth, you still have a bitter taste lingering in your mouth.

When you’re both done, neither of you speak and you both get into bed, turning away from each other like a brick wall has been put up. It fucking hurts. It hurts more to cry. More, because Taemin knows. He can hear each breath as it's hiccuped out of your chest, and if you tried to hold it, he’d listen to your silence instead, and in the end, maybe you would explode all over him. You can’t hold this in forever. You can’t feel neglected forever and never say anything; maybe you’re just being dramatic. But still, it hurts.

In the morning, you’re woken up by lazy, clumsy kisses peppered all over your face. You barely open your eyes, squinting at the light coming through the bedroom window. You squirm and try to turn over, still upset over last night but Taemin’s hand on your waist stops you and pulls a squeak out of your mouth and you’re slammed back on your back after not getting very far out at all. He pushes himself up against your side, flush against you, and you can feel him.

His peppered kisses turn into sloppy, wet, open-mouthed ones, trailing down your neck as his hand carefully pulls up your top and trails his hand over your stomach, humming into your neck in delight. Your body is flushing hot with arousal; you have missed Taemin. Every part of him—his virility, his soft lips, and his dick. It has been so long; you felt like a nun living in celibacy.

He nibbles lightly on the skin of your collarbone before licking a stripe up your neck and nibbling on your ear. His hand travels down to your heat and he chuckles and takes his hand out of the equation. “Wet already? Did you dream of me.” Smug and confident, he whispered it in your ear. And you can’t speak completely under his spell, heart pounding, with no coherent sentences ready to be formed.

When he finally detaches from your neck, he’s on his next conquest, mouthing all around your breasts, sucking, and biting, and you find it hard to stay still. You squirm and writhe but he holds you still, hands on your hips so brusingly tight. He looks up, lust and hunger in his gaze and smirks. He finds it so funny. Taemin loves teasing you; he treats it like a sport when he can. He gets back to work and lays his tongue flat on your nipple, licking a line and then twirling his tongue around it, his teeth barely nipping. And you whine, jutting your hips up, wanting some release for your core—something to fill you up hot and heavy.

Taemin bathes in the sounds you make; he loves hearing them so he rewards you with a kiss so soft compared to the grip he has on you and you want more; you need to feel that connection. You wonder if you’re the only one whos been sexually frustrated because somehow Taemin is fine apart from his throbbing boner, hot and hard on the side of your thigh, a type of self-control that is inexplicable. You cry out, wanting more of his lips on yours so you reach for his long hair and yank it slightly, unsure if he’d like it. However, you’re pleasantly surprised when he lets out a low growl and his pupils expand. You marvel in amazement.

“So needy,” Taemin tutted and bent down, nipping on your bottom lip and dipping the tip of his tongue between your lips and you relish in his mouth, nibbling and sucking on his top lip and letting out a deep, content breath out of your nose. Your fingers slide in deeper, tangling in his soft, messy hair, surrounding them in his hair and jerking lightly, making the erection between his legs throb against your thigh. You feel like you are in a daze, eyes closed, lips moving lazily against Taemin’s.

Taemin moves away from the kiss and slides his hand into your pyjama shorts and he slowly circles around your clit, sending white heat all over. You move your hands from his hair and grab Taemin's shirt; you know not to interrupt his teasing, your hands twisted up and twisting up further in the white cloth as he uses his other hand to fill your mouth with his fingers, making you moan and your eyes roll back. Taemin loves watching you; he loves voyeurism; he gets off on it; he loves videoing, making sex tapes only to watch them over and over on tour, getting lost in your sounds, face, and body. He once told you that you’re face was perfect for porn. You were offended at first but he explained that you look ethereal while he’s ploughing you in.

Taemin dips his fingers down and teases your hole, dipping in and out of it as you nibble on his finger, wanting him to speed up. But he didn't; instead, he pushed his fingers deeper into your mouth, pressing on the back of your tongue, making you gag, and pulling a deep breathy chuckle from Taemin’s lips. “Calm down,” he demands, with a smile playing on his lips. He is so cruel, but you can’t lie and say it doesn’t get you off. He slips his finger into your hole, finding that spongy flesh and fingering in and out, hitting the right spot over and over as his thumb rubs circles around your clit. Then another finger inside you, in and out.

“Please,” you beg, pulling Taemin’s top over his head and losing him for a second. He smirks at you and pulls his boxers off.

Before you knew what was going on, Taemin had pulled his fingers out, pulled your shorts off, and grabbed your hips as he bent your legs and as he settled down into you, a string of curses and a deep grunt fell out of his mouth as he closed his eyes for a second, letting the feeling take over his body. The feeling was almost too intense, electricity sprialing from your feet to your head, your thoughts clouded, and your pussy desperately begging for some movement as you clenched around him. Taemin seemed to know what you wanted, his hips rolling in one swift motion, thighs pressing against your arse, and his short fingernails lightly scratching over your skin as his fingers dug in.

“I missed you,” Taemin groaned lowly as you gaze at his dick, appearing and disappearing inside of you again and again, the view being the most pleasurable thing you have seen in a while. You have spent so much time watching porn in the past few months that you feel overwhelmed to see a real dick going in and out of you, toes curling into the sheets as you try to not cum straight away.

“You too,” you manage to mumble in a half moan, voice trembling, hands clawing Taemin’s back as you want him deeper inside you. Taemin tries not to let you have your way, but seeing you move so sensually, lifting your hips to try and get him in deeper, your bottom lip stuck between your teeth, eyes hazy and glazed, and strands of hair falling into your face and sticking slightly as small beads of sweat have started forming at your hairline. It makes it hard for him to keep the pace slow.

You have to admit that the sight of Taemin is very appealing—the best view you ever had the honour of seeing. His back feels very soft and taut beneath your palms, making you want to continue touching him, explore the lines of muscles and relearn his body all over again.

“You said I don’t care about you. Do you feel cared for now?” Taemin teases as he takes his dick out of you and before you can whine, he pushes his dick back into your entrance and snaps his hips into you suddenly making you breathless and sending prickles of heat through your body. You run your tongue over your body lip, feeling dry from marvelling up at Taemin because he looks so good right now—golden skin droplets of sweat falling down his face, beautifully catching at his philtrum, making you want to lick it. Such a strong carnal urge takes over you as you grab the back of his head and pull him down into a kiss, not wanting to listen to him talk any more.

Taemin lifts your legs up to his shoulders, making an amazing deepness hitting that spot over and over again. The angle is nearly too much for you, as Taemin leans from the kiss and starts playing with your clit, making you clench around him and earning a groan, sending you off a cliff. You can feel Taemin’s weight inside you; his thrusts are getting more intense and sharp, building up, pushing you down into the mattress; the pressure inside you is building up and the muscles in your abdomen are contracting. Your brain is not functioning fully under the influence of arousal and Taemin. You can feel your orgasm about to come crashing, heart pounding insanely in your chest, feeling like it was about to crack a rib.

Your head lolling back, eyes closed so you don’t have to see how erotic Taemin looks, and your spine arching, welcoming Taemin in deeper as the pressure builds up, coiling, and you’re so close, heavily panting, your nails scratching at his back as you try and take the pounding.

Taemin’s groans and teasing words rolling like waves straight to your core, as he speeds up faster chasing his own orgasm, you take your hands and grab the sheets as he’s pounding you up the bed and white stars flashed behind your eyes as you came undone. Taemin’s relentless pounding didn’t stop; instead, he groans as you tighten and spasm under him, letting out helpless cries and he rides you out on your orgasm. “Look at me,” he instructs, his voice so gruff and demanding that you can’t help but oblige. He whispers dirty, sweet nothings, and then his orgasm hits him hard as his body tenses up, mouth parted open, moans falling out, and his forehead creases, making him look so beautiful and fucked out as sweat drips down his golden chest and his slightly pink face glows in the sun that is cascading through the window.

He clings to you, laboured breaths hitting your lips, his forehead pressed against yours and his eyes so glassy as he looks into your eyes lovingly. “I love you,” he laughs lowly and pulls you towards him, his tongue slowly licking along your bottom lip and then giving you a proper kiss. The kiss is sweet. Taemin places his hand on your cheek as he pulls himself out, sending shivers down your spine and pulling staggered moans from him.

He lays down next to you and pulls your head to play on his chest as you listen to his heart pounding. You look up at him. “I love you too, but what was that for?” you ask cheekily.

“I’m sorry for being a dick; you know what I get like during a comeback but it doesn’t mean you should get used to it. I’ll try and get better, more tolerable, and treat you better. Also, where is your engagement ring?” He apologises and stokes strands of hair out of your face.

“Your maid took it off while cleaning,” You tell him, insinuating that you are his maid, which, he doesn’t find funny. He pouts so you press up on one of your hands to get closer to his face and press a soft kiss to his lips as you say, “I hope you do. What time is it, by the way?”

He stretches his arm out and grabs his phone, checking the time: “five-forty-five.”

Your eyes pop out of your head as you moan, “I could have been sleeping; why’d you get me up so early?"

“You weren’t moaning about the time ten minutes ago," he tells you and you can't help but laugh at him and snuggle into his chest as he strokes your hair.

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Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it.

Feel free to ask questions on twitter: 0rgell

Love Orgel

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skzhocomments · 6 months

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hi i just want to know if you have a posting schedule?

Hello, thanks for the question! If you are referring to "The White Lily", I'm posting a chapter everyday or every two days <3

#skzhocomments #storminsidemycore #stormanswers #stray kids #straykids #shinee #fanfiction

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skzhocomments · 21 hours

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I don't remember everything tbh but I remember we were in some room I've never seen lol and when he put it in I felt so damn good I was like oh god its been a while and he just slammed hard djjdhenfjf then he asked if I wanna do anal 🤪🤪😳😳

omg sounds intense 🤣🤣 want me to write a oneshot about it? lolol

#skzhocomments reply #skzhocomments answers

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skzhocomments · 21 hours

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I had a sex dream about chan ill never recover from this

sharing is caring let's hear it bestie

#skzhocomments reply #skzhocomments answers

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skzhocomments · 2 months

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Cant wait for white lily new chapter!! Love your fic so much!

Aww thank you so much!!! It'll be out this week, I think on Thursday!!

#skzhocomments answers #skzhocomments reply #the white lily #the black iris and the withered rose

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skzhocomments · 3 months

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Clingy - Bang Chan Oneshot Fanfic

General Masterlist

Pairing: Bang Chan (Stray Kids) x OC (name: Aera. Story is written in 2nd person)

Genre: angst, fluff

Word Count: ~3.3k

Warnings: a little angst, crying

This is just a story that doesn’t describe Bang Chan or other mentioned Stray Kids’ members true characters in any way. It’s just a product of my imagination and should be treated as such.

This story is also on Wattpad (click here) and AO3 (click here)

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Summary

You overhear Chan and Jisung talking about how clingy you are, and it really hurts your feelings.

A/N: As any other writer out there, I would appreciate reblogs and your comments on this story. Please let me know if you enjoyed it, and most importantly, have fun!

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Clingy

"Is Aera coming over today?"

"Probably."

"Tsk. She's always here. Don't you find it annoying?"

You were just outside the door when this conversation between Chris and Jisung stopped you dead in your tracks.

You've been dating Chris for just shy of a year now, and you figured out early in the relationship that he never has free time. He's a workaholic through and through, starting his days with early practice and finishing them with late nights in the studio. Thus, you came up with a solution: whenever you wouldn't be working night shifts, you would come visit him in the studio and keep him company.

You never interrupted or bothered him. You just watched him work, stealing occasional kisses when he'd take short breaks, taking care of him, bringing him food (as he more often than not forgot to eat balanced meals completely), giving him water when his bottle would run out, and massaging his shoulders when he'd feel particularly stiff.

You never considered yourself to be annoying, until now. And although you shouldn't listen to other people's conversations, you just had to know what your boyfriend thought about it.

"Annoying? How so?" Chris asked.

"I mean, she's being so clingy. She always wants to see you or be around you and she's coming by, like, every day. It seems exhausting."

"Oh... Yeah, I see what you mean. Well..."

"What?" Jisung chuckles.

"She is a bit clingy, yeah."

"It annoys me sometimes. I miss our bonding time in the studio." Jisung chuckles again.

"Yeah, it would be nice to sometimes have time to ourselves. Sure." Chan chuckles as well, and you start feeling your heart break into a million pieces with every word you hear.

"Oh, so you also find her a bit... of a nuisance?"

"I wouldn't say that... But she does suffocate me sometimes, I won't lie."

You truly didn't know that Chris viewed you as suffocating. He's never told you.

If he had, you would've never started to come to the studio.

Why did he even give you an access key?

Already on the verge of tears, you decide to turn around and give Chris what he obviously wants: time away from you. Just as you do, you see Changbin walking towards the studio.

"Aera!" He exclaims and runs to you happily, taking you in his arms and spinning you around. You've become close friends ever since you started dating Chan, and this was how he always said hi to you.

"Binnie!" You ruffle his hair and smile back.

"Did you come visit? Let's go." He grabs your hand, and before being able to protest, he opens the door and drags you inside.

You try to keep on smiling as you say hi to your boyfriend and Jisung, but now that you're aware of their true feelings towards you being here, you can't help but notice every small detail. Chris and Jisung give each other a knowing look, and you notice it. You just know it's because you are there again.

You wonder if Changbin feels the same way, if he also finds you annoying and suffocating.

Your chest is tight, and it's getting hard to pretend that everything is okay. It's difficult to breathe. You can't even bring yourself to speak much, afraid that Chris will find you smothering, so your words get stuck in your throat, choking you.

You don't even laugh much at their jokes, and you wonder how everything can change in just a span of 10 minutes. The studio used to be a safe space for you, where you could relax and be yourself, but it now feels like a cage.

It seemed like you could now notice all sorts of things you weren't able to notice before. Although Chan is his usual self, it somehow feels different to you.

He doesn't want to spend time with me; runs through your head repeatedly, and with every passing minute, it's getting harder and harder to stay there.

You want to leave.

No, you need to leave.

Your eyes are watering up and the pressure in your chest is crushing you; the throbbing pain in your heart is getting too much; your eyes start to water again; and you need, you need to find an excuse and run away from this place.

You have to come up with something - anything convincing enough so that Chris won't bat an eye. Something that wouldn't be too obvious a lie.

"Oh, shit!" You exclaim, and the three men in the room look at you with questioning eyes.

"What's wrong?" Chris asks.

"I just remembered! Fuck! I promised Jia I'm taking over her shift tonight! Shit! I have to go!" You jolt up from the sofa and grab your bag hastily.

I have to get out.

"Oh, no! Want me to drive you?" Chris asks as he stands up as well.

"No, don't worry. I know you have work to do." You smile briefly, then wave to Jisung and Changbin and begin to turn around.

"You sure?" Chan grabs your hand, making you look at him.

"Yeah. If I leave now, I'll make it just in time."

"Ok, babe. See you tomorrow?"

"Sure." You smile as he presses his lips against yours briefly, before you part from him.

"Text me when you get there, so I know you're safe."

"Will do, bye bye!" You turn around and leave the room with haste, and once you're finally alone in the elevator, with the doors closed and already moving towards the ground floor, you break down.

It's hard to stop the tears from flowing, the overwhelming sadness completely taking over you, and you feel every piece of you ache. It shouldn't hurt this much. He didn't say he didn't love you. He simply said you're suffocating.

It's not that bad.

Is it?

You realise that Chris is right; you are smothering. You've always been the clingier one in the relationship, and maybe it's time to take a step back and stop being so keen on spending time with your boyfriend.

Maybe you should simply let him initiate whatever outings he wants, whenever he has time, and you'll see to your hobbies and occupy your mind with something else but him.

You get home and join a class right away. You don't even notice what you've clicked on.

Pottery, apparently.

Whatever.

This will do.

"She still hasn't texted me."

"Hm? What did you say, Hyung?" Han raises his head from his notebook. They've been working on a new song for a few hours now, and whenever Jisung writes lyrics, he gets completely absorbed in them, not noticing anything else.

"I said, she still hasn't texted me. How many hours has it been since she left for her shift?" Chan asks uneasily. You've always texted him to let him know you're safe, so this felt completely out of character for you.

"Maybe she just forgot." Jisung shrugs.

"Have you tried calling her?" Changbin asks.

"Yeah, I did... she won't pick up either."

As he answers this, Chan's breath hitches in his throat. What if something happened? What if you've had an accident, or fell and hit your head, or- it was already pretty dark out when you left.

Why the fuck did he let you go alone? He should've taken you to the restaurant himself.

Fuck, why are you still working there anyway? He's told you time and time again that he can take care of you while you search for a job in your field. He knows how hard you've worked for your diploma and how disappointed you've been after searching for months on end with no results.

Why didn't you want to take him up on the offer? That would mean all the free time in the world, and more importantly, no night shifts.

"I'm sure she's fine, Hyung." Changbin puts a comforting hand on Chan's shoulder, pulling him out of his thoughts. "But if you're that worried, you could go to the restaurant. It's not far from here anyway."

"Is that okay?" He asks anxiously.

"Yeah. We can manage just fine for a couple hours, don't worry."

With a short nod, Chan stands up and grabs his coat.

"You're just as clingy as her." Jisung chuckles slightly. "Message us when you're there."

"Will do!"

Chris runs hastily to the elevator and clicks on the button for the underground parking lot, then hurries to his car. The ride to the restaurant is less than 10 minutes long, and he curses once more for not taking you himself.

He couldn't even spare 10 minutes for you.

Fuck.

He's definitely never felt shittier...

... until he reaches the restaurant, goes inside, and sees that you're nowhere in sight.

"Chris? Oh, hi! I almost didn't recognise you with your cap on. What are you doing here?" A girl approaches him with a large smile.

"Jia? I thought you weren't working tonight?" He stares at the girl in front of him in confusion.

"Yeah, I am." The girl replies, just as confused.

"Oh... is Aera here?"

"No, she's working day shifts this month. Hasn't she told you?"

"She did, I just thought... whatever, nevermind." Chan waves his hand and smiles. "Thanks."

"You didn't have a fight, did you?" Jia asks with a worried expression on her face.

Chan didn't know. Did you?

"... no, we didn't. Thank you, Jia. Have a nice shift!" He waves and leaves the restaurant, and as soon as he's back in the car, he takes his phone out to call you again, when he notices a text.

Sorry Channie, it's been chaotic at work, and I couldn't check my phone until now. I forgot to text you to let you know all's okay. I got there safe <3

He freezes.

You lied. You've never lied to him before.

Why?

He decides not to call your bluff and plays along. You surely have a reason to lie to him, and he wants you to come forward yourself instead of having to confront you.

You're safe. That's all that matters.

Or that's what he's trying to tell himself, although doubts start running rampant in his mind. Your behaviour today has been weird, ever since you came to the studio. You avoided eye contact, you invented an excuse to leave after not even 20 minutes, you lied that you're going to the restaurant, and you haven't even messaged him to let him know you've gotten there, or home, or wherever the heck you've gone, safely.

With a sigh, he starts the engine and drives back to the studio.

"Babe, can you give me some water, please?" Chan asks in a quiet voice as he's trying to perfect a beat he's been working on. It's 2AM already, and he's growing tired.

When you don't answer, he asks something again, this time in a whisper.

"Did you fall asleep?"

There's still no answer coming from you, so he turns his chair around to see you, and then the realisation hits him.

You're not there.

In fact, he can't even remember the last time you've come to the studio to keep him company.

He noticed that ever since that night you lied to him, you've been acting strange. You no longer text him unless he texts you first; you don't initiate any dates or activities with him; and most importantly, you're never there.

He misses you.

Did you fall out of love? Are you trying to let him down slowly by spending less and less time with him?

Shit, he never expected love to hurt as much as it does. Your absence hurts.

He grabs his phone to text you, hoping that you're not asleep. It takes you 12 minutes to reply. 12 minutes that passed by agonisingly slowly, but he's at least grateful you actually replied. Waiting until morning would've been torture.

As soon as he sees your text, he calls you.

"Yeah?" You reply, your voice small. You always sound like this when you've just woken up.

Fuck, when was the last time Chan woke up next to you?

"Sorry, babe, did I wake you up?"

"Mhm. What's wrong?"

"I just- can I come over?"

"Now?" You reply, still sounding asleep.

"Yeah. I really want to see you."

"You have a key though..." You yawn. "... why ask me?"

"... I know. I'll be there in 10 minutes, okay?"

"Mkay."

Chan makes his way to the parking lot and checks his wallet, phone, and the keys to your place a hundred times. When he's sure he has everything, he starts driving. He usually loves late–night drives, but his heart is now ridden with anxiety, which makes it completely unpleasant .

In front of your door, he contemplates once more using your key. He used to use it and come over all the time, but he's been so stumped with work as of late that he can't even remember when the last time he's been here was.

The apartment is quiet and dark, so he does his best to not disturb the peace as he walks hesitantly through the hallway until the bedroom.

The lights are turned off in the bedroom as well, and you're now fast asleep again. Still, he comes behind you and spoons you; he lets his face come close to your head and takes in your familiar scent as he hugs you.

"You're home?" You ask quietly.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's fine." You yawn again.

"I missed you so much." He whispers, and you hum.

"Mhm. I missed you too."

"Do you... still love me?"

"What?" You ask, your voice audibly more awake now. "Of course I still love you, Channie. What kind of question is that?"

"You've been so... distant lately. You don't even come over anymore."

"Look who's talking." You chuckle slightly. "When's the last time you've been here?"

"... you're right. But..."

"I'm sorry." You whisper, feeling yourself on the verge of crying again. "I do still love you, but... I was suffocating you. Maybe it's better that we spend less time together now."

"What?" Chan sits up on the bed, leaving you feeling empty and your back cold. You sit up as well and turn on your lamp, and looking at his face breaks your heart. His eyes are glistening with tears, matching yours like a mirror.

"You... you said you feel suffocated by me... I know I'm too clingy, so..."

"Wait! No... When- when did I say that to you?" He frowns. "Maybe I've just-"

"To me?" You smile bitterly, cutting him off. "Never. But you told Jisung how suffocating I am and how you sometimes just want time on your own, so... I'm giving you that."

As soon as he hears your words, he remembers. He had one conversation about this with Jisung, which he realised was bullshit anyway when he noticed how much he thinks about you and how lonely he feels when you're not there.

"Baby, I-"

"Don't even bother denying it, Chris. I heard it."

You look away as you feel like starting to cry again, and tears start falling immediately after. Fuck, it's pathetic, really.

"Aera, look at me, please. I didn't mean to deny it..." He pleads with you, but it's hard to listen to him and raise your head. It's so damn hard to see him.

When Chris sees you won't budge, he doesn't know what to do. You're crying and shaking, and it's all because of him. He's hurt you.

He thinks about how he could make it better and decides to hug you tightly.

"Baby, look... I did say that, and I'm truly sorry. I was so, so wrong. Yes, you are clingy, but fuck, I don't want it any other way. I've missed you so much these past weeks."

You stand silent and just listen to him.

"I kept turning my chair around to look at you and you were never there. I kept checking my phone but there were no messages from you. I didn't even know if I could still use the key you gave me, or if you're not comfortable with that anymore..."

"Channie, how can you even think that?" You cry out, and he hugs you tighter. "This is your home too."

"I'm truly sorry... I've been up in my ass with work and neglected you completely, and only realised how much I need you by my side when you were gone..."

"Yeah." You whisper.

"Are we going to be fine...?"

"... Yeah, we are. Just... please tell me if it gets too much, mhm?"

"It won't." He kisses your forehead as he smiles slightly. "Thank you for forgiving me. But Aera, you know? You also lied to me." He chuckles. "You didn't have any shifts that night."

"I'm sorry... I was hurt, and- wait, how do you know that?"

"I went to the restaurant to check on you, and Jia was really confused to see me there." He lets go of you and grabs your face with his hands, running his thumb over your cheeks and wiping away all the tears.

"I just... felt so horrible. Hearing you say that I'm suffocating you was like a punch in the gut. I'm so sorry I was too clingy."

He shakes his head and presses his lips against yours.

"Please be clingy from now on. I thought it felt suffocating, but I actually got so used to the warmth of your attention, that being without it felt utterly depressing. So, please, keep clinging to me."

"... okay." You nod.

"And please come by and spend time with me in the studio again, hm? What about tomorrow evening? We can have dinner together, and then you can come hang out with me. If you want to, of course."

"Oh, actually-" She chuckles slightly, "I can't have dinner with you tomorrow, sorry. I can come after 9 to the studio, though."

"Why?" He tilts his head.

"Well, you see...?" You rub your nape, "I have a pottery class from 7:30."

"Pottery?" Chan laughs in disbelief. "When did that happen?"

"When I decided to fill my days with something else to keep me from thinking about you all the time." You smile sadly, and he pouts.

"But I want you to think about me all the time. I also think about you all the time."

"The pottery class will last for a few more weeks, so you'll have to make do." You poke his nose playfully, and he is quick to scrunch it.

"You're punishing me." He kisses you again. "Do you like making pottery?"

"Honestly? I'm shit at it." You say, and both of you burst out laughing.

"I didn't ask you if you're a pro or not. Only if you enjoy it."

"Mhm... I think I do." You smile.

"That's amazing. Show me what you've worked on."

You excitedly grab your phone and show him all the photos and videos you've taken in the past few weeks, explaining the techniques you've learned and how much you've been struggling to keep up with the class, and Chris listens attentively.

By the time you're done talking, it's almost 5 AM, and both of you are barely able to keep your eyes open.

"So, now that we're okay, should we head to sleep?" You ask, and Chris caresses your arm gently.

"Yeah. Let's sleep. Good night, my love."

"Good night."

He kisses the back of your head, and you both fall into a deep, restful slumber.

~The End~

280 notes · View notes

skzhocomments · 5 months

Text

The Black Iris and The Withered Rose (Mafia Book #2 - Lee Know // Bang Chan) - Story Masterlist (COMPLETED)

! MUST READ 'THE WHITE LILY' BEFORE READING THIS STORY !

---

Mafia Book #2 is divided in two parts:

PART I - THE BLACK IRIS PART II - THE WITHERED ROSE

---

Genre: MAFIA AU, angst, romance

Word Count:

Part I - The Black Iris - 33.7k words Part II - The Withered Rose - 31.3k words

Warnings: explicit mature content, mentions of death and other graphic scenes (it's a Mafia...), swearing, blood, anxiety etc.

This is just a story that doesn’t describe SKZ members’ true characters in any way. It’s just a product of my imagination and should be treated as such.

This story is also on Wattpad: click here and AO3: click here

A/N: As any other writer out there, I would appreciate reblogs and your comments on this story. Please let me know if you enjoyed it, and most importantly, have fun!

---

Summary

"Chan simply couldn't forgive himself for his stupid actions that brought Emilia's death one year ago, so he did what he knew best: he let his soul die as well, with her, and he focused solely on Stray Kids. He became the most heartless Mafia leader there was, not caring about anything else but building his empire to be able to protect the only people he cared about. He killed, killed, and killed anyone and anything mercilessly, unable to feel even the slightest bit of remorse He would do so with a straight face, for his soul was as vacant as an empty shell. The members knew this all too well, but no matter what they would say or do, it wouldn't matter. The Chan they all knew and loved was too far gone, only a ruthless monster that swore to protect them left in his place. With Chris being so unavailable emotionally, it all fell on Minho to pick up the pieces. After all, he was the next in command when it came to their Mafia."

Important! Disclaimer:

This story will be 18+ where lots of sensitive subjects will be mentioned and/or introduced in some form. None of these will be marked during the story! Should you decide to read, do so at your own discretion, and if something triggers you or makes you uncomfortable in any way, please stop reading immediately.

---

Mature content ahead.

18+

---

THE BLACK IRIS

Chapter 1 - Breathe in and jump - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

Chapter 2 - Time Machine - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

Chapter 3 - Tight-lipped - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

Chapter 4 - Dissociation - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

Chapter 5 - Iris' Apple Tree - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

Chapter 6 - Revenge - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

Chapter 7 - The Proposal - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

Chapter 8 - The bad guy - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

THE WITHERED ROSE

Chapter 1 - I'm a ruin - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

Chapter 2 - A chance meeting - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

Chapter 3 - Pure Morning - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

Chapter 4 - Ghost from the past - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

Chapter 5 - Bleeding hearts - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

Chapter 6 - Quid pro quo - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

Chapter 7 - Twisted Love - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

Chapter 8 - A proper new beginning (FINAL CHAPTER) - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

44 notes · View notes

skzhocomments · 1 month

Text

The Five Stages of Grief - Bang Chan Oneshot Fanfic

(And a second cover because I couldn't decide)

General Masterlist

Pairing: Bang Chan (Stray Kids) x OC/Reader (Story is written in 2nd person, no name is mentioned)

Genre: angst

Word Count: ~10k

Warnings: death, devastatingly sad, mentions of self-harm, suicidal thoughts. No comfort, although it does end in a positive note. Ending is hopeful if you squint.

This is just a story that doesn’t describe Bang Chan or other mentioned Stray Kids’ members true characters in any way. It’s just a product of my imagination and should be treated as such.

This story is also on Wattpad (click here) and AO3 (click here)

---

A/N: As any other writer out there, I would appreciate reblogs and your comments on this story. Please let me know if you enjoyed it, and most importantly, have fun!

---

The Five Stages of Grief

---

“Hey Channie!” You entered his studio with a smile plastered on your face, that soon enough turned into a frown when you noticed your boyfriend of almost 5 years hasn’t even acknowledged your presence.

He tended to do that a lot, especially when working on new comebacks. His whole focus was on that damn computer which you were sure by now was your life-sworn enemy. It’s hard having to compete with a screen to get your boyfriend’s attention, but such was life sometimes, and there was nothing you could do about it.

You knew the risks that came with dating an idol, you just didn’t know how much worse it could be if you were to date a workaholic, perfectionist idol.

This was Chan.

He spent hours and hours and hours cramped in his small studio, perfecting beats, arranging vocals, switching up different rhythms and trying to figure out what could work out and have the most success between his fans.

“Have you eaten?” You asked, kissing his cheek, and only then did he notice you’re there, and pulled out his headphones.

“Oh, hi. Didn’t see you come in.” Was all he said, his face scrunched in concentration. “Did you say something?”

“Just asked if you’ve had dinner yet.”

He must’ve, right? It was well past 11 pm, but one of his bad habits was working himself to death, and more often than not, he would skip meal times entirely simply because he wasn’t good at keeping track of time.

“I had a protein bar earlier.” He shrugged.

“Want me to order you something? Or even better, why don’t we both head home?” You asked with a smile, trying to be convincing enough for your boyfriend.

It usually worked.

He would normally laugh off your attempts to be nice and realise that you’re just trying to take care of him, and he would comply and go home with you for the night, then resume his work the next day.

Once you’d be home, he would crash immediately, proof of how tired he’d been and how much he’d ignored his body’s needs. His sheer determination was scary.

However, none of this happened tonight. He rolled his eyes and muttered a small “There she goes again.”

You played it off, though, realising he probably didn’t mean for you to hear that. Brave on his part, you thought, in such a small quiet studio.

“What is that supposed to mean?” You asked, your tone still friendly, as if you were joking with him.

What you didn’t expect was for him to turn his whole chair towards you, his expression angrier than you’ve ever seen him.

“You heard me. God, it’s so frustrating having you come here all the time bossing me around. Eat! Sleep! Stop working! Can’t you see I’m busy?!” He ranted, pointing towards his computer screen.

“Wow, sorry, Mr. Busy.” You chuckled, despite being slightly angry with his words.

He doesn’t mean them. You told yourself. This is another one of his bad habits: bursting out and speaking cruel words whenever he’s extremely stressed and has tight deadlines. It hadn’t happened often, only a handful of times in your years long relationship, but it hurt nonetheless whenever it did.

“And there you go mocking me.” He rolled his eyes at you. “It’s like you don’t even care about the work I’m doing.”

“It’s not that, Chan. You know how much I value your work, it’s just-”

“Yeah, bullshit.” He laughs. “If you would, you’d stop barging in here demanding things from me when you know I have stuff to do.”

“Hey, I know you had a tough couple of days with the comeback and all, but there’s no need for you to take it out on my like this.” You crossed your arms in front of your chest, this time feeling genuinely upset. It’s like he’s escalating it on purpose.

“No, it’s not just a tough couple of days. Don’t you get it? You do this shit all the time, and I’m frankly sick and tired of it. Can’t you just leave me be for once and stop being so controlling?”

“Controlling?” You asked, baffled. “How am I controlling, huh? By making sure you eat and sleep when you’re supposed to?”

“How do you even know what I’m supposed to do?! You always think you know best, but you never fucking consider any of my needs and wants.”

“Literally everything I do is fucking consider your needs, Chan.” You answered coldly.

“No. You’re just too deep in your head and can’t fucking figure out when to back down, so I’m telling you. Stop telling me what to do and leave me alone if I’m busy. God, I don’t need this shit.”

He mumbled the last sentence and put his headphones back in, turning his attention back to the screen.

Maybe you shouldn’t have done what you did next, but he hurt you, and you didn’t like the way your conversation apparently ended. You wanted to know what he meant, so you grabbed his headphones’ wire and pulled them out of his ears forcefully.

The way he turned to you and the look he threw you almost made your blood freeze, but you were far too upset to care about upsetting him anymore.

“What exactly don’t you need, huh? What is this shit, exactly?!” You gestured with your hands.

“You can’t fucking let it go, can you?” He laughed in a baffled way.

“No, unless you tell me what this shit is.”

“This. Us. Everything. I’m really fucking done with how overbearing you’re being. I was doing fine before I met you, and I sure as hell do just fine without you over my head every fucking minute of the day.”

“Oh, is that so?” You asked, expressionless.

He hurt you, but by his anger still present on his features, you realised it’s all pointless. You’re not going to see eye to eye tonight.

“Do you want to break up?” You let out, the words burning your tongue, and Chan’s eyes widen.

“What? No! Fuck, you twist my words.” He sighs, exasperated. “Just leave. Let’s talk about it tomorrow.”

When he doesn’t say anything else, you let out a shaky breath and watch him put his headphones back in.

“Oh, and this?” He starts, pointing to one end of the headphones. “Never do this shit again.”

You watch silently how he turns his chair to look back at the damn screen, without caring that you’re still there in the room.

The discussion is over.

“I see. Fine. I’ll go.” You let out, tears beginning to spill down your cheeks. He didn’t see them, and it felt like he didn’t even care that he’s made you cry.

You quietly made your way out of the room, your sight too blurry to see anything, and you headed home.

---

Denial

---

Chan’s eyes are beginning to sting painfully, and after rubbing them and checking the time, he figures out why.

It’s way over 5 AM when he decides to finally leave the studio, and although it’s still dark out, the streets are already starting to get filled with people hurrying to whatever painful morning shift they are scheduled for.

It takes him about 20 minutes to get back to your shared apartment, and when he does, nothing seems unusual at first.

The house is expectedly quiet, it being so early in the morning, and he already imagines how deep in sleep you must be by now.

He feels guilty for how he treated you, that he let the anger consume him once again, and he regrets it. He always regrets it when he lets stress get the better of him.

As he heads towards the bathroom to wash the harsh day off his skin, he starts thinking about how he could make it up to you. Should he buy you flowers and bring you breakfast in bed in 4 hours when you’ll most likely get up?

Although he hasn’t slept at all.

Should he take you out on a date after he’s well rested? There was this restaurant you mentioned a couple of times that you wanted to try, but he didn’t have enough time to take you there to eat yet, not with all the planned comebacks and the work that keeps piling up.

Maybe tomorrow is finally the day.

He finishes his shower and rubs his eyes again, and God, how tired he is, just as usual when he pulls out all-nighters. Everything seems ordinary, but as he opens the bedroom door, however, something is unusual.

You are not there.

Confused, he takes out his phone to check for any messages you might’ve sent him, but upon noticing there’s no new notifications, he throws the phone on the bed, screen down, defeated.

Did you really think he wants to break up? Did you finally have enough and left him?

He knows he treated you badly tonight, but he thought it’s just a small drop in an ocean of happiness. Arguments are unavoidable, unfortunately, and he can’t always be the perfectly composed man he’s striving to become.

Would you really leave after a couple of cruel words he didn’t even mean? He starts asking himself as he gets into bed. Surely you know how much he loves and needs you there for him. It was just a bad night, that’s all.

Maybe you just wanted some space, and decided to head to a friend, or to a hotel or something.

He thinks about calling you, but with how late it is – or rather, how early – he knows he’d just disturb you or any of your friends you would’ve gone to if he were to call.

He decides to go to sleep instead and figure it all out tomorrow morning, when his mind is clearer, and when you’ve both had enough time to cool down.

His head is pounding with pain as he opens his eyes and feels multiple pulsations against all sides of his skull.

This is the worst migraine he’s ever had, and he realises how right you were when trying to convince him to go to sleep early. He really needed more sleep.

He grabs his phone to check the time, and when he does, he sees it’s flooding with notifications. His manager called him about a dozen times, starting at 8 AM and continuing up until 15 minutes ago, and he has multiple missed calls and messages from all the members.

Ugh, it’s only 10.

Did I have a schedule I’ve forgotten about? He wonders, rubbing his eyes confused, but checking the date, he knows it’s his day off.

He decides to head to the bathroom and freshen up, while picking up his phone and dialling his manager’s number.

He reaches the bathroom and puts toothpaste on his brush, and by the time the phone rang two times, his manager picks up.

“Chan! Where are you?” He asks, his voice hurried. “Why haven’t you picked up?”

He begins lazily brushing his teeth and checks the date again, and sure enough, it’s his free day. There’s nothing in his schedule.

“Huh? What do you mean?” He asks, his voice still ridden with sleep, still tired from the lack of rest. “It’s my day off.”

“Are you at home?”

“Yes. Where else?”

“Good. That’s… okay. Have you talked to anyone yet?”

“No…? You’re acting weird. What’s going on?”

“Listen, Chan. Something… something bad happened. I need you to sit down for a moment, okay?”

“Okay...?” Chan nods absent-mindedly, continuing to brush his teeth, oblivious about what’s coming.

“Last night… God, I don’t even know how to break this to you, so I’ll just say it. Do note that the company will do its best to assist you and-”

“Cut to the chase. What’s wrong?” Chris asks, starting to get worried. He finishes brushing his teeth, and just as he prepares to put the toothbrush down, his manager’s next words make him drop it to the floor instead.

“Your girlfriend passed away last night. She was hit by a drunk driver on a crosswalk, and although an ambulance got there in less than 2 minutes, she was already… I’m sorry.”

The line falls silent as Chan tries to process what his manager just said. The only sound in the room is made by the toothbrush hitting the bathroom’s white floor tiles.

Chan heard wrong. There’s no other explanation.

“That can’t be.” He dismisses his manager completely. “She was just with me in the studio last night, and then she came-”

Home. But you weren’t home.

“She must’ve gone to a hotel or something.”

“Chan… I’m truly, truly sorry. As I said, we’re going to support you through this tough time with everything we’ve got.”

What tough time? Chan wants to ask but stays silent instead.

He picks the discarded toothbrush from the floor and throws it away. How careless he’s been, dropping it.

He wants to chuckle at his stupidity, and he can’t wait to tell you about it. You’re going to nag him again for being careless and dropping things. This is the 3rd toothbrush he’s changing this month.

“Oh, God! Again?” He can already picture you with an amused expression on your face, your arms crossed. “You’re always dropping stuff on the floor!”

The thought brings the ghost of a smile on his face, and he starts wondering again where you might be. Surely your manager is mistaken.

“Her parents tried getting in touch with you, but they said you didn’t pick up. You should give them a call.” His manager continues to say. “From what they’ve told us, the funeral will be held tomorrow morning. JYPE offered to pay for all expenses. Anyways, this must be too much information to swallow for now, so I’ll come pick you up in 20 minutes and we can go to the company together. The rest of the boys are already here.”

“Okay, see you in 20 minutes.” Chan replies, not really understanding what’s happening.

He ignores the countless missed calls and messages and opens his call history to dial your number instead.

It goes straight to voice mail.

“Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?”You chuckled, asking him with an unsure look on your face.

“Yes. The beep-”

“Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!” You cheerfully said, ending the recording with a small laugh.

“Are you going to keep it like that?” He asked amused.

“Why not? It’s straight to the point!”

“You left my voice in it, though.”

“Oh, does it bother you? I can record again if you want me to.”

“No, no need. I just – isn’t it a bit weird?” He chuckled. “You even forgot to say your name.”

“Whatever.” You waved a dismissive hand in the air. “If they called my number, they know who they’re calling.”

“Fair enough.” He laughed.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!’

He chuckles absent-mindedly at the memory of him teaching you how to record a message redirecting your callers to leave a voice mail. You’ve never been good at technology.

“Hi, babe. Can you please call me? I need to talk to you.” He says, deciding to leave a message, even though he isn’t convinced that you’ll get to hear it. You usually forget to check your voice mail.

He tries calling again, just for good measure.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?’

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for-‘

And again.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly’?

Yes. The beep-‘

And again.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?’

Yes.’

‘Hello! You’ve called…’

‘Hello!’

He throws his phone on the bed exasperated. Why aren’t you picking up?

You didn’t even come home last night, why is your phone turned off?

Do you want to somehow punish him for being cruel and make him worry?

He shakes his head confused and begins changing his clothes from the comfortable pyjamas to an appropriate enough outfit to go to the company.

It should be a crime to have to go so early in the morning anywhere on your day off.

When he’s done and he looks somewhat presentable, he picks his phone back up and dials your number again.

‘Hello! You’ve called-’

He cancels the call just when he hears a knock on his door, and opening it, his manager is looking at him sombrely.

“Hi.” Chris speaks first, but his manager doesn’t say anything. He just pulls him into a hug that lasts way too long, Chan thinks.

“I’m so sorry for your loss.” He finally says after pulling away.

Chan doesn’t know what to reply, so he opts to just stay silent. His manager’s words don’t register in his head anyway; maybe he’s still tired.

He did go to sleep way too late.

They head to the car, and although the ride to the company only lasts 20 minutes or so, the 20 minutes feel like an eternity.

It’s just as his manager said, and everyone else is already at the company. When he sees the boys, they come rushing to him, their faces tear-stained and their clothes black.

“Oh, Chris…” Felix hugs him tightly and starts crying, and Chan starts comforting him by patting his back a few times.

A few tears escape past his eyes as well by seeing all the boys so gloomy, but he still doesn’t seem to be able to wrap his hand around it.

“Her parents said the wake is taking place at their house, so that’s where we’re headed now. I thought it’s better for you to not go alone.” His manager blurts out.

Chris looks dejected for a few seconds, before taking out his phone again and dialling the familiar number. This time, he types it himself. He knows it by heart.

With a shaky hand, he puts it against his ear and waits to connect.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!’

It makes no sense.

You couldn’t possibly… have died.

You are so young. You have so many plans and so many things you still want to do.

He is supposed to apologize to you and pamper you the whole day just to make up to you for being an asshole last night. He is supposed to take you to that restaurant you’ve been bugging him about for weeks.

You can’t possibly be gone, just like that.

Your parents embrace Chris as soon as he steps through the door. They’re sobbing loudly, and there are so many people present – some, he recognises: old friends from middle school you’ve shown him pictures of, some other colleagues from university, some coworkers he had the pleasure of meeting at the last Christmas party held by your company, a few family members…

There are also many people he doesn’t recognise; people your age, and Chan gets reminded once again of how young you are, with your whole life ahead.

He shakes his head once he notices a coffin on the large table in your parents’ living room; the same table you’ve both ate at just two weeks ago when you’ve last visited.

“My baby, Chris is here to see you.” Your mother cries, approaching the coffin and pulling his hand to guide him towards it as well.

It’s closed shut, and on top of it, your picture stares at him with a happy smile. You are so beautiful; he’s always loved this picture of yours. He’s the one who took it, just after you’ve graduated Uni and he handed you a big bouquet of your favourite flowers, rose peonies. You said your eyes wrinkled in a weird way, and never liked it, but he absolutely adored it. It’s been his wall screen ever since.

The coffin is made of dark polished mahogany, and its lid is adorned with golden handles.

You can’t possibly be in there.

Although beautiful, how could such a small coffin hold the large essence of your soul?

It makes no sense whatsoever.

Your parents’ cries seem real enough, though.

He touches the top of the coffin and wonders why it’s closed. Why would it be closed, when you are so gorgeous? People should see you, not a simple picture.

He decides it must be because you’re simply not in it. Or if you are hiding in there, maybe it’s all a joke and you’re going to open it from the inside and yell Surprise!, shocking everyone in the room and making your mother faint. It’s something you’d do.

So, he waits.

He waits, and waits, and waits, and his feet grow tired and his back starts aching after so many hours on his feet. People come and go, paying respects, patting his shoulders and trying to make some small talk, talking about you in past tense.

“She was such a wonderful person.”

“She was so full of life.”

“Her laugh was so intoxicating.”

“Her work ethic was admirable.”

“She was so smart.”

He listens and nods to each of their words. They are right. You are a smart, wonderful person, you are full of life, your laugh is the best thing he’s ever heard. He’s wished more often than not to record it and put it in one of his tracks, but every time he’d mentioned it, you called him silly.

By the time your father brings him a chair and places it next to the coffin so he can sit down instead of standing, it’s already night out.

“You should get some rest, Chris. I’ll stay with her.” He tells him, placing his strong hand on Chan’s shoulder as to attract his attention, but Chan just shakes his head.

How could he go sleep when you might decide any time to wake up?

Would you panic, with the lid closed and all? You’ve always been claustrophobic. Why is it closed, anyway?

It’s already morning when one of your relatives approaches Chris and urges him to get out of the living room to change his clothes.

They’ve brought him a white suit at the request of your father; wedding attire, since you didn’t get the chance to get married before you passed.

He is reluctant to put on the white pants and uncomfortable suit jacket, but he does it anyway. Your mother cries when she sees him, and your father pats his shoulder and thanks him for doing this.

The priest comes, and a lot of your friends visit your home again, to lead you on your last journey, apparently.

It takes the priest about half an hour to finish praying for your soul, and then your coffin is loaded in the back of a hearse. The car moves slow enough for everyone to be able to follow, and Chris is walking right behind it, next to your parents. Felix is behind him with Lee Know and Changbin, and the rest of the boys are somewhere far back. He sticks out like a sore thumb, dressed in all white while everyone else is wearing black.

Each time the car passes next to important places in your life, the hearse stops and people throw coins on the ground. They pass by your kindergarten and your old school, and with each step, your mother cries harder. Your father tries his best to stay composed, but even he bursts into tears when your mother starts talking about your life and what a happy kid you were.

Chris doesn’t shed a tear. He follows the hearse blindly, and when it reaches the cemetery, he watches as his members take out the coffin and place it on the ground next to a large, freshly dug hole.

The priest begins a final prayer, and soon enough, he watches how the coffin disappears inside the hole. People start throwing soil and flowers. He doesn’t know how a couple of roses get in his hands, but he begins throwing them one by one on top of the coffin that keeps getting lowered down.

You’ve never liked roses that much. You like peonies. Why did someone hand him roses?

There is also some music – hymns, or the sorts. Something you wouldn’t like. He doesn’t like it either.

A few moments later, some people begin covering the coffin in dirt, and he watches the scene expressionless. It gets covered fairly quickly. People start crying even harder, and his ears start ringing.

He feels sick to his stomach, so he decides to take a few steps back as soon as the whole gets filled to the brim with the freshly dug soil.

“I can’t believe she’s truly gone. She was so young!” He hears a woman say from somewhere behind him. He doesn’t bother turning his head to check if he knows her or not.

“Right? We were talking just yesterday morning at work about going shopping this weekend.” Another woman replies in a quiet tone.

“They didn’t even open the casket.”

“How could they? Didn’t you hear how she passed?”

“No! What even happened?”

“She was apparently crossing the road and a car came out of nowhere, hitting her with more than 200 km/h. It threw her like 30 metres in the air.”

“Oh my God! I heard it was a car accident, but this…”

“Yeah! It’s insane. There was barely anything left of her… only shattered bones and flesh, nothing resembling a human.”

“Shh, what if someone hears you say that?!” The other woman tried to silence the first one.

After hearing these details, Chris feels even sicker.

He wants to throw up.

“Son, we are going to the reception now. Do you want to come with us in our car?” Your father approaches him, and Chris simply nods.

He hugs him for a few seconds, and then they wait for your mother to come, and the ride to the restaurant is filled with her sobs while your father and Chan remain expressionless.

He sits at a table next to your parents. Felix is on his left, and the rest of the boys and other members of JYPE are sitting nearby.

There is an empty space to his right, and in front of it, the table is full of your favourite foods, snacks and drinks.

His eyes are stuck on that empty seat.

“Wow, they really brought me a lot.” You chuckle, looking at Chris with your head supported by your right hand, your elbow against the table. “How am I supposed to eat all of this?”

He watches the scene stunned.

“What’s wrong, baby? Why the long face?” You ask, the smile on your face wider, raising a hand to caress his cheek.

The next time Chris blinks, you’re gone.

The seat is empty.

The boys insist that Chan comes with them to the dorms, or that at least some of them come home with him.

“It’s not good to be alone.” Hyunjin says sympathetically, and Chris simply shakes his head.

What if you come back home tired and want to rest, but the boys are there visiting? He asks himself. It wouldn’t be fair to you.

So, he goes home alone, after much bargaining with them that he needs some time on his own.

The silence that greets him once he opens the door to your shared apartment is deafening.

He first goes to the bedroom to check if you’re back yet, but the sheets stay as empty as when he woke up two days ago, so he pulls out his phone to dial your number again.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!’

The beep sound follows soon after, and he begins talking.

“Babe, I know you’re mad at me. I was wrong. I’m sorry. It’s time to come back home now. Please?”

A second beep follows, signalling that the time to record his message is over, so he ends the call. He ignores the countless notifications piling up on his screen, all the Condolences messages he’s been receiving, and he places the phone in his pocket and starts making the bed.

“Wow, well done, Channie! I’m impressed!” He can almost hear you chuckling, and turns his head towards the door, fully expecting you to be there laughing at him and praising him for doing the bare minimum, but there’s no one there.

Once the bed is made, he heads towards the living room. A half empty glass of water is on the table, its margins stained by your lipstick, next to a plate full of breadcrumbs.

Tsk, how messy. He rolls his eyes, knowing exactly why you haven’t cleaned up. You must’ve eaten in a rush again, this bad habit of yours.

You’re always complaining about stomach aches, but you keep eating on the go while getting ready for work in the morning, and never enjoy your meals.

He takes a picture of the crime scene and opens his phone again, shooting you a text.

“Forgot to clean up?” He asks, then attaches the picture of the plate and glass.

He knows you’ll probably laugh and start excusing yourself once you see it. If he were to check his gallery, half the pictures are surely of the dirty plates you simply forget about on the table.

Chris always washes them, but never fails to remind you of it.

This time, too, he takes the plate and glass to the sink and turns on the hot water. He rubs the plate with a dish sponge with way too much dish soap on it, and he hears your voice in the back of his head again:

“My, Channie! You’re so wasteful! You only need a drop. A single drop!!! What are you using so much dish soap for???”

He starts laughing as he grabs the glass and throws the half-drunk water out, but before washing it, he notices the lipstick stains again. He smiles to himself and sets the glass aside, wiping it off with a napkin, careful to not accidentally remove the stain.

Your lips left such a pretty mark, he doesn’t want to part with it yet, even if you are going to give him an earful later for not washing the glass properly.

When there is nothing else to do around the house, he opens his laptop and starts sorting out his emails. All of their schedules for the month have been cancelled, and their upcoming comeback postponed indefinitely.

He doesn’t think it’s necessary, but at the end of the day, the company’s rules must be followed. You’ve complained about him working too much anyway. Maybe this is the chance for you two to spend a bit more time together.

All he has to do now is wait for you to come back.

He waits.

And waits.

And waits…

Felix visits with Jisung and Seungmin the next day.

And then the next, Jeongin comes with Changbin and Hyunjin.

Minho drops by every morning with enough food to last Chris the whole day.

His manager comes once a week and makes sure to call him daily.

Whenever he’s on the phone, he paces around the empty apartment and looks around. He sees the jewellery you left on the coffee table; your sports shoes are still on the doormat in front of the door, your face creams and serums stay untouched in the bathroom, your hairbrush lays by the sink filled with loose hair, and there’s a half-ironed shirt on the ironing table in the dressing.

You don’t like other people touching your stuff, so he leaves everything just like that, waiting for you to come back and fix it all.

The glass with your lipstick stain on it is still there on the counter, next to the sink.

He’s texted you about a dozen of times since he first messaged you about it and the plate that’s long been washed, but you haven’t replied to a single text. Your phone still goes directly to voicemail, but worst of all… no matter how much he’s waiting…

… you don’t come home, and the apartment stays empty.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!’

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right!’

‘Hello!’

---

Anger

---

It’s been more than a month, but Chris still sets the table for you each time he eats what Lee Know brings him.

He wouldn’t bother eating much, if Minho wouldn’t have insisted to tag along to practically every meal after he noticed that he’s barely touching the food.

He always places one more plate on the table, right in front of him, at your usual spot.

“Just in case she comes back and gets hungry.” He explains to Minho, but he’s had enough of this.

“Hyung…” Lee Know hesitates. “She… she’s not coming back. You know that, right?”

His tone is quiet, and he tries to approach the subject as gently as possible. However, it’s time for him to do something. You’ve died more than five weeks ago, but Chris hasn’t moved any of your belongings, not even to store them.

There’s a box of tampons on the kitchen counter, but he won’t even move that, for fuck’s sake. He keeps waiting for you to come home, as if he doesn’t realise the fact that you’ve passed away.

“No, she will.” Chris says firmly, daring Minho to challenge him more.

“Hyung… She… she died. She’s not coming back.”

“You’re wrong!” Chris shouts all of a sudden, hitting the table with his fist strong enough to make the tableware bounce. He knows Minho is right. After waiting for you for weeks on end without you coming back, after dialling your number about a million times, after sending countless texts with no reply from you… he knows. But…

“Chris…” Lee Know stares empathetically.

“You’re all wrong! She… she’s coming back, goddamit!” He shouts again, this time grabbing the table’s edges and flipping it. The empty plates fall to the ground and shatter in the process, and Minho’s pot spills on the carpet, staining it.

Chris tries to cling to the last bit of hope he has regarding you, but he knows you’re dead. Everyone else was right, and he was wrong. You’re really gone.

“I’m sorry, Hyung. You… you need some help…” Lee Know continues with a shake of his head, bending down to grab the broken pieces of glass.

When he’s done cleaning up the carpet and the floor to the best of his abilities, he takes one more look at Chan. He looks like a ticking bomb, ready to explode again any second now.

Lee Know doesn’t know if it would be good to give Chan space, or if he should insist again that he comes with him to the dorms.

He decides to ask him anyway, and to his surprise, Chris nods and packs a small bag with clothes and hangs it on his shoulder.

They made their way out to Lee Know’s car, and once they’re at the dorms, they say goodbye as each goes to their respective apartments. Chris used to live with 3RACHA and Hyunjin, so that’s where he’s headed.

The dorms are as messy as he remembers, but they bring him comfort nontheless. His old room brings him solace as well.

There are a few pictures or you on the small desk in his room, and he looks at them fondly. You’re smiling beautifully in all of them. It’s the you he remembers. You, at your first date; you, the first time he took you to an amusement park; you, when all your fingers were coated in chocolate after you attempted to bake him a cake.

It’s you.

God, how he misses you.

How dare you leave him alone?

How dare you?

Why didn’t you fucking look to the left before crossing the road? Even if the traffic light was green, you should’ve fucking looked.

You’ve always been careful to look, so why…?!

Watching the pictures no longer makes him happy. It makes him angry, and out of anger, he punches the wall behind the desk with all his strength.

It makes no sense, really, but the pain in his fist takes away from the pain in his heart, so he punches the wall again.

He decides to try and calm down after hitting the wall two more times, and he hops into his old bed, shutting his eyes tight and thinking about the night you died.

‘I’m really fucking done with how overbearing you’re being. I was doing fine before I met you, and I sure as hell do just fine without you over my head every fucking minute of the day.’

Those were some of the last words he’s said to you.

Since you’ve died a few blocks away from the JYPE building, it happened right after you left.

You died thinking he doesn’t love you.

You died thinking he doesn’t need you.

He does.

He needs you.

If only he’d gone home with you that night, as you asked him, you would’ve never died.

It’s his fault.

It’s his fault you’ve died.

He killed you.

He lashed out on you and blamed all his stress on your attempts to take care of him, and he killed you.

Fuck, it’s all his fault.

For the first time since the funeral, he bursts out in tears, and he is unable to stop. It’s like all of his repressed feelings for the past month and a half come biting him right in the ass.

It’s so hard to breathe. He’s getting suffocated.

He can’t.

He can’t breathe anymore.

You’re on top of him, suffocating him.

“You killed me.” You say, blood running down your face.

He can almost feel the drops hitting him, with your face so close to him.

“It’s your fault. “You knew what you were saying. You killed me.” You say again cruelly, and Chris shuts his eyes even tighter.

His cries soon turn to wails, and he’s being loud enough for Changbin to hear him and get alerted. He opens the door without knocking, and upon seeing Chris, his heart breaks.

He just goes to the bed and throws himself on top of Chris, as if to shelter him somehow from the intense grief he’s feeling.

When his cries quiet down, Changbin takes a look at his friend and sees his injuries.

“Holy fuck, your hand is bleeding. Are you okay?” He asks in panic, standing up quickly to grab the first aid kit to bandage his fist.

“It’s all my fucking fault!” Chris screams at the top of his lungs, and his destructive mood comes back. He stands up, wanting to destroy it all. Every damn picture, every fucking thing in this room.

He wants to set it on fire and let it it all to pieces, letting himself burn as well. It’s what he deserves for killing you.

Sure, the drunk driver that hit you was directly responsible for taking your life, but the way he acted that night… nothing would’ve happened if it weren’t for him.

He killed you.

Changbin sees right through his erratic behaviour and anticipates his moves, throwing himself once more at Chris, holding him tight and not letting him move, no matter how much Chris lashes out. He doesn’t let go until his friend calms down again, and even after he does, he decides to camp in the room with him and keep him company.

---

Bargaining

---

It’s been three months, and Chris still has some difficulties accepting that you’re truly gone.

He probably shouldn't be here so soon, but it’s like he has to make sure again that you’re… that you’re dead.

Your parents did a great job with your grave; your gravestone made of marble stands tall , centred right in front of the ground you’re buried deep within, and the intricate designs of sculpted vines and flowers reminds him of you.

Oh, right. Flowers.

Chris remembers he brought a bouquet of pink peonies with him. He’s been holding onto it tightly ever since he bought it and stepped in a taxi to come here, but as soon as he got to your grave, time stopped, he couldn’t breathe anymore, and he forgot about the flowers in his hands.

It’s not like you need any more; there are so many fresh flowers all over and around your grave. Your parents also planted lots on top of the soil above your coffin, decorating your rest place beautifully.

You’ve always said you wanted a garden, and now, you have one: your little space in the uncomfortably large cemetery at the edge of the city.

“My favourite flowers. Aren’t they pretty?” He swears he can hear your voice, and turning to his left side, his breath hitches in his throat, choking him.

There you are, holding the bouquet of pink peonies he bought with a large smile on your face, but just like last time, he blinks, and the bouquet is in his hands, as it’s been the whole time, and you’re nowhere in sight.

A tear rolls down Chan’s cheek. He wishes he would’ve bought you that house and garden you’ve been dreaming of, instead of the convenient apartment in the city centre.

He wishes he would’ve proposed, and that you’d build a little family together. After all, you were his solace in the midst of all the chaos of his life. The sole person bringing him purpose and comfort.

But now you’re gone.

He wishes he wouldn’t have always put his job first. Especially now, as his schedules stay empty due to the company fearing for his well-being, he realises how much free time he could’ve had if only – if only he’d listened to you.

He regrets all those late nights in the studio when he could’ve been home sleeping next to you.

He regrets every breakfast, lunch and dinner he’s missed because he was too busy with making a new song, learning a new dance, or preparing for a new comeback. Now, none of it matters. You’re gone.

He could’ve postponed all of them. He could’ve done so much differently, and he regrets it all.

You’re gone.

He places the peonies in a little vase near your gravestone, next to some daffodils someone must’ve brought you a few days ago.

Then, he raises his gaze and reads the inscription in the headstone’s marble. It’s your favourite poem by Clare Harner.

Good choice, he thinks, as he goes through the lines of Immortality and traces each engraved letter with his fingers.

‘Do not stand by my grave and weep

I am not there, I do not sleep.

I am the thousand winds that blow,

I am the diamond glints in snow.

I am the sunlight on ripened grain,

I am the gentle, autumn rain.

As you awake with morning's hush,

I am the swift, up-flinging rush

Of quiet birds in circling flight.

I am the day transcending night.

Do not stand by my grave, and cry--

I am not there, I did not die.’

You stopped reciting the poem and took a deep breath, looking expectantly at Chan.

“Isn’t this poem beautiful?” You asked him, your eyes sparkling.

“A bit morbid, but yes.” Chris chuckled as he placed the freshly made pasta dish in a large plate and served you dinner.

“Aww, thank you. Smells so good!” You grinned in delight, your eyes closing into crescents, as they always did whenever you smiled brightly.

He couldn’t help but press a quick chaste kiss against your lips before he sat down as well.

“So, pasta master, show me how it’s done.” You encouraged him, nudging his elbow and handing him your fork and spoon.

“Tsk, you’re so spoiled.” Chris tutted jokingly, but complied nonetheless and started twirling the pasta with the fork. Once it became an appropriate bite-sized portion, he raised the fork and supported it with the spoon as he brought the food to your mouth.

“Mmmm, so good!” You exclaimed with a few quick, excited small claps, as soon as you started feeling the flavours.

“Of course, what were you expecting?” Chris chuckled.

“Only the best from you.” She praised, petting his head fondly. “So, about the poem. Do you think it’s good enough for my presentation?”

“For Uni? Yeah, of course. Anything you’d pick is good enough, babe. You have your way with words, and you recited it very beautifully.”

“You think?” You beamed at his words, and he nodded. “Thank you, Channie. I really really like it, but I was afraid it wasn’t appropriate.”

“No, it is. You can use it.”

“If the lyrical genius says so, it must be true.” You stood up briefly and kissed his cheek, before returning to your seat and starting eating the pasta.

God, how many years ago was that?

Chris bursts out crying for the millionth time this month, and grabs the headstone with both his hands, feeling his knees grow weak.

On the brink of collapse, he uses your gravestone for support as he weeps louder.

“Can’t you come back?” He asks, his voice shaking. “Please. Please come back. Please. I… I promise I’ll do better, hm? I promise I’ll no longer stay as late in the studio, so please… please…”

The headstone can’t support him enough when his hands go weak as well, and he falls to his knees right in front of the poem.

“If only – If only I’d left with you that night. If only we hadn’t fought. God… please, please come back. We still have to make up.”

He cries for what feels like hours, and his body grows cold.

“Please… please…” He forces out again. “Come back… come back… we have so much we want to do… come back… I need… I need more time with you, please. Please.”

And he cries again.

And again.

And again, until he feels a hand on his shoulder a while later, and he turns his head around hopeful, thinking you might’ve somehow heard his pleas and returned to him.

His expression falls as he sees Seungmin looking concerned at him, and then he frowns even more noticing the pathetic way he looks in his eyes’ reflection.

Seungmin falls to the ground next to Chan, hugging his side tightly. Then, he helps him stand up and balance on his feet.

Chris is grateful for Stray Kids being there for him, but he just wishes… it would’ve been you standing next to him instead of Seungmin.

---

Depression

---

Chris has never experienced such an intense fatigue before. Every part of his body hurts, and it’s like his muscles are screaming at him each time he stands up. He is lethargic and looks haggard and in desperate need of rest, but rest doesn’t come by too easily as of late.

It’s 5AM and he’s in the studio again, but instead of doing anything productive, like finishing up that song he’s started working on two months ago that he keeps beating himself up for, he watches how beautiful you looked in the picture on his desk.

You used to be so full of life and so gorgeous. Your smile could make anyone happy, and your laugh – God, how much he misses your laugh.

He misses your voice.

Sometimes, he can’t even remember what it sounds like, and he thinks it’s absurd; it hasn’t been that long since you passed. Only about a year. He shouldn’t forget it so soon.

He grabs his phone and manually types the digits to your number. He still hasn’t forgotten it, and with how deep it’s been ingrained in his memory, he doesn’t think he ever will.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!’

He hasn’t cried in some time while thinking of you, but now, he’s on the verge of tears again. You used to sound so carefree.

You used to be so happy.

He doesn’t know when he started referring to you in past tense, but as soon as the realisation hits him, he lets a couple of tears stain his cheeks.

Chris is tired. He hasn’t slept in… God knows how many days. He’s always had trouble sleeping, but nowadays, his insomnia has been getting worse and worse. His doctor prescribed him some pills that are supposed to help, but he can’t even be bothered to take them anymore. They don’t help him rest anyway. If he takes them, he wakes up confused, disoriented, and with an even worse headache.

His phone is still in his hand and his finger brushes over his screen. He didn’t have the heart to change his lockscreen picture. It’s still you.

He hasn’t seen you in what feels like years. The first few months when he’d been haunted by your ghost were tough, but now that he hasn’t seen any glimpse of you in months, day to day life is getting harder and harder to navigate.

You don’t even visit him in his dreams anymore, on the seldom nights he sleeps. If he takes the small white pills, he doesn’t dream of anything, and he so desperately wants to see you again, to touch you, that he refuses to take them. That’s the other reason he doesn’t.

Fuck, this is hard.

Are you supposed to feel so devastated after a whole year?

Back then, years passed by so quickly – it meant comeback after comeback, work, work and more work, and time with you was scarce but very appreciated. Time used to fly, and without him knowing how much time passed, you’ve celebrated your 5th anniversary. He was planning to propose to you soon. He was looking at rings, but then you…

Time doesn’t pass by as quickly anymore. This year stretched for so long, it felt like a decade instead of barely 12 months. With each passing month, it was like nothing was changing at all for Chris, but now, looking back, everything feels different.

He’s a completely different person than the one that was staying in the studio up until 5 AM last year, and he blames himself so, so much for his unchanging bad habits.

He blames himself for your death still. It’s his fault, and this thought only makes him more hopeless and more depressed.

He’s lost weight. A lot of it, to the point where the company had to have an ‘intervention’. Whereas last year his body was toned, his abs perfectly sculpted and his form admirable, he now looks like a ghost of himself.

If he eats, his stomach immediately starts hurting. He threw up 3 times this week alone.

Your death still has such a big emotional toll on him, and he’s tried it all. He went to therapy. He still goes four times a week at his company’s requests. He’s on medication that makes him groggy and unable to think, medication that shut down all his feelings – not just the negative ones. He is numb, and when he isn’t, he feels utterly devastated and lost.

What is he supposed to do now, without you?

How come a year has already passed without you by his side? He’s even contradicting himself. Sometimes he feels that the year passed by slowly, and sometimes he looks back and doesn’t understand how he was able to live a whole year without you.

He needs you.

Fuck, he needs you so much, he still can’t believe he even insinuated that horrible night that he didn’t.

Life no longer has any purpose, and everyone around him is growing more concerned by the day, as this once optimistic man has left together with you, leaving in his place only a pessimistic, desperate person.

He realised how badly he wants to die exactly 6 months ago, when your sudden disappearance finally started sinking in for real. When he stopped bargaining with God or with whatever cruel higher power there might be in the sky to let you come back, even if just for 10 minutes, for enough time for him to kiss and hug you and tell you how much he’s missing you.

6 months ago, he started decorating his thighs with unsightly marks, some of them faded, other fresh. He can’t do it anywhere else, no matter how much he’d wished to cut his wrists open, for fear of anyone else noticing.

So, he takes his despair out on his poor thighs, pressing the small blade against his skin until he feels something, anything. Until blood starts pouring down and the shower’s water pools down at his feet completely red.

He winces in pain every time he does it, but at least he feels something different than the numbness that grows bigger and bigger in his heart, consuming everything in its way. His whole soul feels absorbed by it, crushed under the pressure.

On the rare occasions he’s not numb, he feels the immense grief your absence left. He now knows that you’ve not only taught him how to love, but also how it is to lose what you love, and it hurts. It’s excruciating, and his heart is being ripped apart still, each and every time he thinks of you, and your absence is tearing him apart from the inside out.

He is physically sick. His headaches are worse than ever. He can’t sleep. He can’t eat. He can’t do anything anymore. He doesn’t want to, either.

The only thing he wants is to die, but even this wish feels selfish. He sees the way his friends look at him, how they’re walking on eggshells around him, to not somehow mention anything that could trigger a bigger depressive episode than what he’s already going through. He only pushes through it because of them, because he knows how it feels to lose someone you truly love, and he doesn’t want them to have to live with this black hole in their chests.

But… the loneliness he feels is simply merciless. It’s pouring down on him like unyielding unforgiving rain, not showing him any pity, and so he tries to fills his days with something that would make him forget about the gap in his soul.

The company let him come back to work a while ago, but they didn’t plan any comeback for Stray Kids for the time being, nor are they planning any for the near future. He’s grateful they’re giving him time, because he’s in no shape or form ready to do anything, not when he’s withdrawn himself so much from everything he used to love.

It’s difficult to compose any up-beat songs, or any song, for that matter. It used to come naturally for him, but not anymore. Changbin and Jisung are doing their best to support him and make up for his lack of concentration, but it feels like he’s not bringing anything to the table anymore.

He’s missed practice over and over again. The Kids meet up every two days to dance to their older songs, and as they don’t have anything new to work with, they even started learning the dances of other popular songs, or creating choreographies that would fit western music. Chan never went. He stopped dancing 12 months ago, and he hasn’t even stepped in the practice room since you died, not even once.

He hasn’t sung since you died either, and no one said anything about it. No one blamed him at all. Not even his company, who he was sure was going to fire him in the first 6 months after your death.

They said they trust him, and that they’re going to give him as much time as he needs to recover. They talk about him like he’s sick, but he’s not sick. They don’t seem to understand that.

He’s not sick, he’s just devastated, and he doesn’t think he’s ever going to be able to live again, to sing and dance on stage and to work hard, because this is no longer his dream.

He only dreams of death, and the thoughts of it are the only ones bringing him any solace. His therapist said he needs more time, and he quoted Lois Tonkin more times than he can count. He said that life will soon begin to grow bigger around grief, and that the intense sadness he’s feeling is just another expression of love for you. One that is permanent, but that will diminish as time passes and as he starts enjoying life again.

He doesn’t believe any of it, though.

How could he begin to enjoy life again, with you not there by his side?

---

Acceptance

---

He met someone.

For the first time in years, he felt genuine happiness again.

It took him one more year to start reengaging in some of his older hobbies and in his work. He started gradually going to the gym with Changbin and Lee Know, and eventually felt ready to start dancing and singing again. Another year later, he was ready to get back on stage and face all his fans, who’ve thankfully shown an unwavering support of his journey with grief.

He started feeling a bit better, and even though you were on his mind all the time, he was no longer dwelling on the pain of the loss of you. Your memory started bringing him more happiness, and he started looking fondly at all the sweet moments you’ve both shared together.

He started appreciating being able to have met you, to have lived 5 beautiful years next to you, and even though he still feels it is unfair that you’ve been taken away from him so cruelly and way too early, he no longer blames himself.

He still regrets the argument you had on the night you passed away, but he started slowly coming to terms with the fact that there was nothing he could do about it anymore, no way to take his words back. He started accepting that this is the one regret he’s going to have to take to his grave with him.

It took him one more year to start embracing life again, to start looking forward to his future with Stray Kids and to start actively making plans. He realised there was so much more he wanted to accomplish, and his dreams started coming back to him little by little, with the support of his friends and family.

He’s met her two years later.

When it happened, he was still not ready to give love a second chance. He thought it was way too soon, that he was disrespecting you by catching feelings for someone else. He felt like he was emotionally cheating on you.

He decided it’s time to join a support group at the recommendation of his friend, and he’s met a lot of people of all ages: some younger than him, some way older. The way they spoke about their former partners warmed up his heart, and they made him realise that loving again is not an affront to your memory. He can still keep loving you while loving someone else as well. He can still honour your memory.

He opened up to her, and he’s told her all about you. She wanted to know who you were, and she even visited your grave with him, holding his hand and talking to you at your gravestone. She told you she loves him and thanked you for being there for him while you were still alive, for giving him precious memories to hold onto.

She apologized for life being so unfair and taking you away from Chris so abruptly, and she assured you she’s going to take care of him to the best of her abilities.

She was really patient with him. She gave him as much time as he needed to come to terms with his feelings. He let him set the pace on what he was comfortable with doing. The first time they slept together was after more than one year of dating, but she didn’t mind waiting for as long as he felt necessary.

She loved him, and he loved her.

He proposed to her almost two years later, and they welcomed a child one year after their wedding.

He visited your grave on your 10th death anniversary with his son in his stroller, a baby boy he’s given your favourite name. You were still present in his thoughts, and his love for you never subsided.

He now simply has additional people to love and to grow old with, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t miss you still.

He decided to visit your grave again, even if walking has become a bit too difficult. Still, he manages the way from the car until your grave just fine, even if he has to support himself with a crane.

He is now old enough to be called ‘grandpa’, and not just as a joke between him and his friends. His hands are shaking, and his legs are a bit wobbly; his face is adorned with deep lines and creases, his forehead is wrinkly, and each fine line contributes to his now years-long life and experiences. The skin dropped around his cheeks, but every lady in the nursing home assures him he’s still a handsome man.

Your grave is no longer as tidy and beautifully adorned with fresh flowers. The soil has been overtaken by weeds and is in dear need of cleansing. He hasn’t visited in a while, unfortunately, his health issues making it a tad too hard, and with your parents long gone, there is no one else to take care of your resting place.

He makes a mental note to hire someone to clean it up and plant some flowers, but for the time being, he simply sets the bouquet of rose peonies in the small, chipped vase next to your headstone.

The inscription in the once immaculate marble is no longer as visible, but he doesn’t need to read it in order to recognise Immortality by Clare Harner. He still remembers the poem by heart, and also all sorts of other small, insignificant things, like your old phone number that’s been disconnected decades ago.

He looks at your smiling picture, the one he took when you’ve just graduated from university, and he realises as if for the first time how young you were.

He’s grown old; he has multiple wrinkles, his skin sagged everywhere, and his body went through each transformation it was supposed to when advancing in years.

But you?

You’ve stayed young. You’ve stayed beautiful, cheerful, smiling. Your face stayed clear of any creases.

You’ve remained just as he remembers you.

You are immortal.

“I’m sorry for not coming in a while.” He speaks with a soft smile on his face.

“That’s fine. You are probably very tired.”

He swears he could hear your voice. Maybe the poem is right, and the whispers of the wind transform in your saccharine voice he’s so dearly missed.

“I’m truly sorry for what I’ve said.” He continues, feeling the need to apologize again for his harsh words that night. No matter how many years have passed and how many time he’s already apologised, he’s never forgiven himself.

“But I’ve forgiven you long ago.” The wind whispers, and he closes his eyes and nods his head.

“I still love you. I’ve never stopped loving you. I hope you know that.”

“I know.” The sunlight caresses his back, warming him up as the wind strengthens. “And I’m waiting for you, whenever you’re ready to meet me, my love.”

~The End~

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(A/N) Obligatory song: 11 minutes by Halsey and YUNGBLUD.

youtube

When my best friend showed me this song, I immediately fell in love with the concept of the music video, that’s based on the five stages of grief. I thought to myself that I simply must write a story like this, but of course, that was months ago and I’ve completely forgotten about it, as I usually do with most random ideas that come to mind that I don’t write down lol.

I couldn’t really sleep for the past few nights, so my mind kept brewing ideas and scenarios to keep me busy and hopefully lull me to sleep.

It didn’t work, because the five stages of grief came to mind and I knew I had to immediately write a story about it and not let the idea go this time, so I got out of bed at like 6:30 am and wrote and wrote on and off for a total of 13 hours, until this 10k words of pure despair have been created.

I hope you enjoyed it even though it probably sent you spiralling into depression. Thank you for reading nonetheless!

Love,

Storm

16 notes · View notes

skzhocomments · 10 months

Text

Masterlist

♥ ♥ ♥ Hello, Storm here! ♥ ♥ ♥

Welcome to my blog!

Here you can find my Stray Kids / SHINee Masterlist with original works. Please be respectul, reblog if you enjoyed reading my stories, like and interact. This keeps me posting.

I post on Tumblr, Wattpad and AO3.

Without further ado...

Genre:

Mature - M Angst - A Fluff - F

Type:

Series, Oneshot

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Stray Kids

Bang Chan

Oneshots

Clingy - A, F - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3 - Oneshot

The Five Stages of Grief - A - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3 - Oneshot

Series

Hug me more - A, F, M - Only on Wattpad - Series (completed)

The White Lily - A, F, M - Mafia AU - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3 - Series (completed. See next: The Black Iris and The Withered Rose)

The Black Iris and The Withered Rose A, F, M - Mafia AU - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3 - Series (completed. See first: The White Lily)

Minho

Oneshots

Miss Y - A, F - non-idol AU - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3 - Oneshot

Break my back - A, F, M - non-idol AU - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3 - Oneshot

Careless mistakes - A, F, M - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3 - Oneshot

Series

The Black Iris and The Withered Rose A, F, M - Mafia AU - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3 - Series (completed. See first: The White Lily)

Changbin

Avoiding - A, F, M - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3 - Oneshot

Stargazer Lilies - A, F - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3 - Oneshot

Seungmin

Leaving what is broken - A, F, M - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3 - Oneshot

Jeongin

Leaving what is broken - A, F, M - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3 - Oneshot

My only Faith is you - A, F, M - Vampire AU - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3 - Oneshot

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SHINee

Minho

Broken hearts can heal - A, F, M - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3 - Series (completed)

I can read your smile - non-idol / University AU - A, F, M - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3 - Series (completed)

Taemin

Rencontre moi à Paris - A, M - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3 - Oneshot

The Boundless Sphere of Fate - non-idol AU - A, F, M - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3 - Series (completed)

---

Thank you for reading. Don’t forget to reblog if you enjoyed!

---

#masterlist #stray kids #shinee #stray kids masterlist #shinee masterlist #stay #shawol #stray kids imagines #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #shinee scenarios #shinee imagines

44 notes · View notes

skzhocomments · 7 months

Text

My only Faith is you - Jeongin (I.N) Oneshot Fanfic (Vampire AU)

HALLOWEEN SPECIAL

Pairing: Jeongin (I.N of Stray Kids) x OC (name: Faith)

Genre: mature, angst, romance, Vampire AU

Word Count: ~13k

Warnings: mature, explicit sexual content, swearing, angst, depression, crying, mentions of non-consensual interactions, blood play (Jeongin is a vampire)

This is just a story that doesn’t describe Jeongin or other mentioned Stray Kids’ members true characters in any way. It’s just a product of my imagination and should be treated as such.

This story is also on Wattpad (click here) and AO3 (click here)

A/N: As any other writer out there, I would appreciate reblogs and your comments on this story. Please let me know if you enjoyed it, and most importantly, have fun!

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Summary

In-between jobs, Faith cursed the hell out of the world for dealing her such shitty hands. 'The light at the end of the tunnel is not a train, the light at the end of the tunnel is not a train, the light at the end of the tunnel is not a train.' - was her mantra, the only reason that kept her pushing despite her astronomical debt. She was going to get out of the town no matter what. She never believed in God, for He never answered her prayers. But what happens if one day someone hears her pleas for help, and what happens if that someone is not human, nor is he God? What happens if that someone longs for the very essence running through her veins, to the point it hurts? Will she just forget his existence and stay oblivious, pretending they never met, since that would keep her safe? Will she even see him again? Or will she embrace the danger, as being in danger has always been the only thing that got her heart racing and made her feel alive? Mature content ahead. 18+ © all rights reserved by skzhocomments (Tumblr), skzho (Tumblr)/ storminsidemycore (Wattpad), storminsidemycore (AO3)

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My only Faith is you - Jeongin Oneshot Fanfic (Vampire AU)

~I.N's POV~

Humans are disgusting creatures.

Selfish, vile, egoistical, sinful, self-centred, unscrupulous, obsessed with themselves, way too proud for their own good.

But still, as horrible as they are... I need them.

I need humans to survive.

This is, for me, a fact of life that's still hard to accept, even though I've been like this... for many years now. Way too many. In fact, more years than any pathetic human life could even reach.

This inherent necessity I have for humans was initially impossible to control. The pretty girl from the coffee shop with the way too short skirt for the times, the drunkard sleeping on a park bench on a random Wednesday night, or the clumsy nerd boy with the round glasses holding his science books way too tightly for his own good under his arm, his plaided shirt too tight and ridiculously tucked into his high-waisted pants – no one was safe from me, for I couldn't hold back the desire I had for that extremely delicious something that flows through those small human veins. Oh, how I enjoyed the way their heart rate went up, pumping even more of that life elixir I hold so dear, when the realisation of what was going to happen hit them.

Their screams were annoying, though. Especially the girls'. High-pitched and irritating as fuck. I always had to make them shut up quicker. Don't get me wrong, men squeal as well, but they're more like... rats. A man's scream sounds almost funny, considering how macho man they see themselves. No one's macho on the verge of death, I suppose.

Let's just say that the first few decades of my new existence were unruly. The blood gave me so much dopamine, I couldn't stop myself, nor did I want to. I was young, barely turned for a few years, and I had fun. Being a sickly kid, I was never allowed to do much, but when I became a vampire, damn, did I not hold back! I allowed myself all the fun I've missed out on in the early years of my life, and I drank all the blood I could, my lips permanently stained red.

That all ended when I met my current family, as I like to call them now. It's unusual to meet too many vampires in the same place. There's not many of us, barely a handful all around the country. So, when I met Chris, everything changed.

I was leaving a bar with a pretty hussy: blonde hair, big tits, amazing thighs. Frankly, I didn't give a shit for any of that, what I wanted from her was to sink my teeth in her jugular vein and leave her cold, but for starters, as much as she was attractive, she was the biggest slut the '30s had ever seen. The thing about those years was that women were either wife material or easy, and that slut certainly wasn't any wife material. I picked her because barely anybody cared for girls like her that would flaunt their femininity, sleep around, and leave practically nothing to the imagination. Men wanted shy, reserved women, so who was going to miss this prostitute?

With as many affairs as she had, no one would suspect anything when she would inevitably turn up in a ditch on the other side of the city. I thought about it long and hard, even though I hated it and would've much rather been reckless, but what's key to vampires is that our existence must stay a secret unless we want to be hunted down, so I needed to hand-pick my victims meticulously.

It only took one espresso martini and a wink to convince her to go with me. Her laugh was annoying, but I was hungry, and her neck looked appetizing as fuck. So much so, that I couldn't even wait until we got back to my place. If I did, things would've maybe been different now, and I would've still been alone, perhaps.

I pushed her against the wall and kissed her neck, preparing it for the bite. Her perfume almost made me gag. I preferred it when people didn't use any on their skin, but oh well, beggars can't be choosers. When my teeth pierced the smooth skin on her neck, she let out such a loud scream, I wanted to smack her. Still, I just covered her mouth and continued drinking her essence. Her blood didn't taste too amazing: I found out that some people taste better than others. Before having time to analyse it, though, I felt myself being kicked to the ground so quickly and powerfully, I didn't even have time to process it.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing out here?!" a man's voice shouted at me, annoyed. I was also extremely angry: who did this idiot think he was to interrupt my meal?

And then it clicked. A normal person wouldn't have been able to shake me off. Or rather - a human wouldn't have been able to. Us vampires are blessed with inhumane force, specifically so we can easily hold our victims down and eat from them. It's just the way mother nature made us, and it's nothing more than a predator and prey dynamic between us and humans. Just the cycle of life.

"What the fuck am I doing? What the fuck are you doing?!" I shouted back and got myself up from the ground. A quick glance at the girl told me that she's passed out, so there was at least some luck there. Her screams would've made me go insane for real – I'd probably snap her neck.

"Saving your ass! Why the fuck are you eating out here? What if someone comes?!" the angry man came towards me and grabbed my collar forcefully. I was shocked to notice that I can't smack his hands away, for his grip was too strong, and he was more powerful than me.

That was a first. I've never met other vampires before, not even the one who turned me. He left me before I got the chance to wake up.

"What's so wrong with that?! I'd just leave. It's not like anyone would see me, no?" I replied coldly, being able to control my anger better now that I wasn't as hungry. The bitch's blood was awful, but it did its job.

"If anyone would, would you kill them too?" he raised an eyebrow and let go of me.

"I mean – I guess so?"

"That's sad. What's your objective, anyway? Messing around and eating? Why don't you do something more productive?"

"Tsch." I scoffed. "Like what? And what do you know about me, anyway?"

"Most things." He shrugged. "I've been following you for some time now, Jeongin. Or should I call you I.N, as you introduced yourself to her 20 minutes ago?" he pointed to the woman on the floor, who was still unconscious, two thin lines of deep red blood flowing from her neck.

"Who the fuck are you?" I replied, confused. Who was this guy and why did he know so much about me?

"Name's Chris. Or Chan, whichever you'd like." He handed me his right hand, waiting for a shake.

"Woah!" I rolled my eyes. "Really explicit! Well, Chris, care to tell me why you've been following me?" I slapped his hand away instead of shaking it, making him smirk.

"I wanted to ask you to join us."

"And who's us?"

"My companions. Fellows that are... like me and you. We call ourselves Stray Kids."

"What a dumb name." I mocked. "And why exactly would I want to join you?"

"Well, why would you want to be alone? Doesn't it get lonely?"

I scoffed again. What was this idiot telling me?

"Look, I'm not interested in any... "companionship" or whatever the fuck you want to call it."

"Suit yourself, then." The man shrugged and turned around. "But if you change your mind, you can find us on Fable Street 143. The big house with the green door. You can't miss it."

"Like hell I would join you. I don't need to hang out with a bunch of nobodies."

"Oh, and don't forget to take care of that." He ignored my snarky reply and pointed to the passed-out girl. "You can leave the poor thing live, no one's gonna believe her anyway."

And with that, he left.

The following months passed by excruciatingly slow.

It's so ironic. I've lived for a long time, but the months ever since that encounter went by slower than a hundred years.

I kept thinking about the man, and I couldn't help but feel like he emanated an aura that demanded respect. And more than that, he raised a suspicious curiosity inside of me; one I've never felt before.

That's how I ended up on Fable Street 143, paying close attention to the big house I've been told about. I kept waiting and waiting, but the green door never opened, I couldn't hear any sounds from the inside, and no one seemed to live there - metaphorically, of course, because no other fellows of mine would be alive.

Was it a scam? I thought at first, before deciding that I ain't in a patient state to keep waiting. I just went to the door and opened it, walking inside like I owned the place.

As soon as I walked in, loud laughter could be heard from a room on the opposite side of the house. I took my time walking towards the voices, admiring the interesting architecture on the walls. Intricate shapes were carved in wood, the height of the room impressive. Every detail pointed towards a Victorian architecture and evoked memories I thought to be long gone from my brain. It looked similar to the house I grew up in, making me feel even a bit... nostalgic.

When I finally reached the end of the large hallway, the smell of burning wood coming from the fireplace of the big living room I walked in welcomed me. In front of the fireplace, two big sofas and a coffee table made the place feel cosier, a few boys sitting leisurely and playing what looked like some sort of board game.

The left side of the room was more like an arcade, or a game room: there were all sorts of entertainment, such as a pool table, a football table, some game cabinets. There was a comical contrast between this side of the room, and the right side, where only a large table with many chairs scattered around it caught my eye.

"Oh?" one of the people on the sofa noticed me and turned around, raising an eyebrow expectedly. He had chestnut brown hair, however a blonde strand stood out in his bangs.

The man I got to know as Chris was also on the sofa, smirking.

"You came." Was all he said, before standing up and coming in front of me to shake my hand.

I decided to accept his shake this time.

"Is this the guy you've been telling us about?" another man spoke, his features cat-like.

"I'm Jeongin." I nodded shortly.

"Well, Jeongin, we're glad you decided to join us."

"I haven't decided anything-" I started, but was quickly cut off.

"We were just about to go feast. Wanna come with?" Chris tapped my shoulder once, then left the room without waiting for my reply. I once again felt his powerful aura, so strong that it made me follow him.

That's how I ended up with Stray Kids. I got to learn that there were 7 other vampires in total, and Chris, being the oldest, was proclaimed the leader of the group. Everyone was in charge of something, such as: finding a good place to eat, doing background checks on people we were interested in consuming, covering up our tracks and disposing of dead bodies if necessary. Stray Kids' main morals consisted in making sure the number of dead humans was as low as possible. They really seemed to dislike killing. I didn't care too much for it, but since I decided to live with them, I had to abide by their rules as well.

I found out that it's so much more convenient to not kill a human and dispose of them. It was so much easier using a drug instead to make them fall asleep while we eat, then making it look like they got hurt by accident.

This means that we don't really bite their necks, though, much to my dismay. A bite to the arm will suffice, then we'll cover it up with a small cut to make it look like a scratch and call it a day. This way we can eat without doing much work afterwards, and if we particularly liked someone, we could just remember them and return to eat when their blood supply comes back.

~Faith's POV~

Fucking hell, not again.

I thought while gagging so badly, suddenly feeling the need to throw up.

"Why are humans so disgusting?" I blurted out while starting to clean up the clogged toilet, full of shit by whichever animal – because I couldn't call the thing who did this a person – wanted to ruin my night.

"Everything okay back there, Faith?" my colleague shouted from the cash register.

"No, dumbass, nothing is okay here! Why the fuck didn't you clean this up before I came?!" I shouted back. He was counting the money made on his shift to add it to the computer program we used in this small gas station and was preparing to hand over the night shift to me.

"Tsch, how the heck do you have such a holy name but such a rotten mouth?" He scoffed.

"No but for real, you always leave these messes for me to clean! What am I, your personal maid?!"

"I just didn't have time, okay?! A lot more people come here during the daytime, just so you know!"

"Yea, yea, keep telling yourself that. How much money did we make during the day then, huh? 100 bucks?"

"150!"

"That's how many people. 5?! Fucking asshole."

I hated this job, but I desperately needed money, so I came to work here, despite all the rumours I've heard about the owners going bankrupt. There are not many options in this city for doing night shifts, and my days are already filled to the brim by the other full-time job I have. If this gas station's going down, we'll see.

What I like the most about this job is the hours. I call it a "night shift" out of convenience, but I'm actually scheduled from 7 PM to 3 AM, which gives me plenty of time to go home and pass out for a few hours before my other job starts at 10 AM.

What I hate the most is – you guessed it! The fucking toilet. And this co-worker.

Just ... a bit more... I tried to give myself some courage, thinking that there is a light at the end of this hellhole.

I am moving.

As soon as I manage to pay off my debt, I'm fucking leaving this place behind and starting anew somewhere else.

Where? I don't know yet. But there's nothing for me in this stupid city. I've been living in a black hole for as long as I can remember, and I can't change anything if I stay.

Just a bit more!

Handing over the shift to my next co-worker, I made my way out of the gas station and inhaled the cold air outside. It was already autumn, gold and rusty leaves paving the way back to the small apartment I lived in.

The way home was not too long, but not too short either. I had to walk for about 20 minutes and pass through some sketchy neighbourhoods, but this was already a nightly occurrence at that point, so I didn't pay it much mind.

The only place that truly creeped me out, though, was the tunnel. A big bridge carrying the country's largest highway crossed over the city, and under it – this cursed space with barely any light that I had to go through every day if I wanted to reach home quicker. The other way home would mean detouring the whole bridge, which would imply more than an hour of walking. I don't have that time, nor the energy to walk so long in the dark after 2 full time jobs.

Now, again, I was in front of the tunnel, bracing myself to go through. Faint sounds could be heard from the inside, but the cars going high speed above made it difficult to listen to anything that was happening.

I took a careful step in the dark but couldn't really see anything. The only light came from the headlights of the cars above that would creep through. I was able to make out a silhouette of a man hunched over. Disgusting sounds were coming from him as he threw up all the alcohol he probably drank, judging by the bottles around him, which made me wonder if he was perhaps the same breed as the guy that shat in the gas station's bathroom earlier.

I crossed over to put some distance between me and him, but that proved itself to be just a futile attempt, as he somehow managed to stop throwing up and come to me, grabbing my hand and pulling me back forcefully.

The guy smelled so bad, I gagged, feeling a bit of vomit rising up my throat. I shoved him back and tried to walk away, but the realisation that he, a man, was more powerful than me, a woman half his size, hit me hard, as he pinned me up against the wall and started rubbing himself on my leg.

"Fuck, get off!" I shouted, trying to push him away, but he forcefully held my hands against the wall, his lips finding their way to my neck.

"N-No!" I shouted, trying to push him again to no avail. Small tears formed in the corners of my eyes, and the feeling of doom settled deep down in my stomach. I didn't know what to do.

The only thing that came to mind was as pathetic as it sounded, which was letting out a quiet "Help" and closing my eyes shut.

I summoned all my strength and managed to somehow push him away from me, but that only got him angrier. He grabbed a handful of my hair and tackled me to the ground, getting above me.

If I could get myself out of the former position, this new one was simply impossible. He was too strong.

I prayed and prayed for someone to come, but quickly lost all hope as the man easily held both my wrists with just one hand, his other roaming my body, touching my breasts, my stomach, my thighs, and my ass.

He ripped off my pants, making me wince as the cold night air brushed on my naked thighs, and then clumsily touched my panties with his dirty fingers, grunting in pleasure.

His touch made me feel so disgusted, I cried again, but there was no one there to hear me.

As his hand moved from my thigh to his growing bulge, I heard the sound of him unzipping his pants.

Fuck.

No.

Is this really happening?

I shut my eyes tighter and mouthed a yet another small "Please help me.", and just then, the man's weight suddenly disappeared from me.

~Jeongin's POV~

Feeling better than ever, my stomach full after the meal I shared with my brothers, I decided to go for a walk.

Night was pleasant. Daytime wasn't too bad, either. There were certain vampires who preferred the sun over the moon, like Felix, one of the guys from Stray Kids.

Then, there was Chris, or Seungmin, or I, who enjoyed the moonlight.

Again, it was simply personal preference. There's no such thing as glowing skin, burning under the sun or nonsense like that. Whoever made those stupid vampire movies didn't research at all. It's clear that they never met a real vampire.

Of course, our existence is a secret, and it's normally extremely difficult to make out a vampire in a crowd. Almost impossible if that vampire is careful. After we drink, we are stronger than ever, but we also become... very human-like. Our skin is no longer pale and cold, we are no longer firm to the touch and these effects last for at least 72 hours, when we would have to eat again. The only indication that we are different stands in our crimson red eyes, but that's also easily hidden with coloured contact lenses nowadays.

Probably the only things those movies got right would be the super strength and enhanced senses. We are able to move very quickly, and our hearing and sight are truly something impressive.

As I'm leisurely walking through the quieter parts of the city, I suddenly hear a small voice.

"Please help me."

It was a cry for help, and judging by the melody of the voice, barely audible, I assumed it was a woman.

Shrugging, I turned around and started walking in the opposite direction.

Then the voice cried again.

"No, please..."

I was able to distinguish a few grunts coming from a man, and the sound of a zipper opening. What the man was doing was disgusting, but I guess it wasn't entirely so different to what we, vampires, did. I also didn't give two shits about others' bodily autonomy.

Well, not exactly. Ever since I joined Stray Kids, Chris made it crystal clear that I'm gonna have to respect other humans, since I needed them. So, I guess that asshole of a man and I weren't that much alike, after all.

Plus, I was doing what I did to survive. He was trying to rape a girl in the middle of the night for... what? A few minutes of pleasure?

Tsch.

My legs moved without me realising, and my hands collided with the man's back, grabbing him by the shirt and shoving him away from the whimpering girl on the ground. She was half naked, but judging by the man's dick barely hanging out of his pants, I got here quickly enough, and he didn't manage to do the deed.

The girl's eyes were burning holes into me, confusion visible on her face, as she didn't seem to register what happened.

The guy tried to get up and land a punch on me, so I went behind him and grabbed him by the collar, while he whimpered in pain as he was slowly getting strangled by his own shirt.

I kept holding the man and looked at the girl, who was clearly bewildered and couldn't comprehend how exactly I was able to hold the man one meter above the ground with such ease, while he struggled in my grip.

Still holding the bastard, who started muttering curses towards me, I took advantage of the super speed and went on top of the bridge quickly, throwing him in front of a moving car.

He was dead instantly.

I went back down to the girl to check on her and see if she'd be able to keep her mouth shut about what happened, and she was still on the ground, but she managed to pull her pants back up.

~Faith's POV~

"You okay?" The tall man spoke nonchalantly. He returned as fast as he left, the drunkard who just assaulted me completely gone by now.

"Uhm... where... is the other guy...?" I looked around confused, not understanding what happened. It's irrational to think that any of it was logical. How the dude practically flew off me, how easily this mysterious black-haired man held him up in the air with just one hand, and how both of them disappeared for just a few seconds, before he returned alone.

None of it made sense.

"Why, love, miss him already?" he wiped his hands off on his clothes, as if he was dirty and wanted to clean himself.

"Of course not. Thank you." Was all I said, when a car suddenly hovered over us on the highway, standing in place, small screams being heard from above. The sudden light allowed me to see the tall figure more clearly, and one thing in particular caught my eye: his red eyes.

"What..." I start, but stop myself in time, as the piercing gaze this guy was giving me almost made me freeze. I felt a sudden rush in my body, my breath hitching inside my throat, my heart beating quicker than ever, and I involuntarily started trembling looking into his eyes. I didn't understand why, but my fight-or-flight response was sending alarm bells to my brain stronger than ever, and I couldn't explain it.

What was it about this guy that was making me so afraid, feeling like a little lamb in front of a wolf? He just saved me... so why? Why is my body reacting like this when I notice him trailing his crimson eyes up and down my body?

It's a different gaze than the drunkard's. This one seemed a million times more... dangerous.

"You know," he started, clicking his tongue, "it's always better to not ask any questions. To stay oblivious. It's safe." He accentuated the last word and took a sure step towards me, and even though my brain was in overdrive and the only thing I wanted to do was to run away as far as possible from this black-haired man, I stood still, continuing to look into his eyes.

I just laid there charmed by his demeanour, by his determined steps, and despite the fear, I felt more alive than ever. The saying was true. Fear doesn't shut you down, it wakes you up.

And that's what it did to me. I got up and started walking towards the man as well, wanting to take in as much as possible about him.

I was completely mesmerised by the way his fox-like red eyes watched my every move, by how angelic he looked. There was no doubt that this must've been the most attractive man I've ever seen in this city. His black hair was parted in the middle, large strands falling on his perfectly smooth forehead. His cheekbones looked like they were carved by Michelangelo himself during a passionate night of sculpting and inspiration.

I reached out a hand to touch his face, and to my surprise, he didn't even flinch. His cheek was warm. My thumb slowly brushed over his lips, that were also an interesting shade of red, it looked like the remnants of a lip tint.

"Done feeling me up, doll?" he smirked, pulling me out of my trance.

"I'm sorry." I take my hand back and get shocked by my boldness. Where did that come from?

"You should go home and forget that tonight happened. Yea?" he instructed me, sounding really convincing. His words were as sweet as caramel liquor, and I just wanted to hear them more and more, to get drunk on them.

"Will you walk me home?" I asked directly, surprising myself; even the man seemed briefly shocked by my boldness, his red eyes growing wide for just a few barely noticeable seconds.

"And why would I?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Because it's safe." I replied, feeling clever to use the same words he just spoke.

"Doll, I'm the farthest thing away from safe. Can't you see? Or rather- can't you feel it?" His face came closer, and he whispered in my ear, sending shivers down my spine. "I can hear your heart beating faster. Aren't you afraid?"

He was right. The ringing in my ears wouldn't stop, and I was in overdrive. This man felt dangerous, but the way he saved me was easily the most interesting thing that ever happened in my pathetic life. It's the first time someone saved me, and God knows how much I needed it before, when the creepy subway guy touched me under my skirt, when a drunkard followed me three streets home or when the loan shark I've borrowed so much money from to pay for my grandma's hospital bills beat me up. I needed help many times, and I asked for it, just as pathetically as I did tonight. But still, no one ever came.

No one ever heard me, until this dark-haired tall man showed up.

Maybe he was my guardian angel. Maybe all my faith was misplaced all this time.

"It's safer than going alone." I retorted weakly after trying to think of a witty reply, and failing.

"I don't know about that sweetheart. I could just be a monster in disguise and eat you as soon as we cross through the tunnel."

"Hmm. Maybe you are. Is red your natural eye colour?" I ask, way too bold once again.

"As I said, not asking questions and staying oblivious is safe, so why don't you bite your tongue?"

"Only if you take me home. Safe and sound."

"You're persistent." He grinned. "Okay. I'll take you home, but you will promise me that you'll forget about the drunkard, what happened in this tunnel and me. And you'll stop asking questions you shouldn't know the answers to."

"Fine. I promise. But can you tell me your name, at least? I'll forget it by tomorrow morning anyway." I started walking through the tunnel, surer of my steps, since it was no longer as dark. I wondered how many cars stopped above us for it to be so well lit, and I tried not to think of the drunkard that wanted to get a feel of me when several sirens could be heard from the highway.

I was sure that whatever happened to him, happened up above, and judging by the number of sirens, I would find out from the morning papers.

I'm not so sure I wanted to know, though.

"It's Jeongin. What's yours?"

Jeongin. A really old name.

I tried once again to stop thinking. Maybe it's as he said. Not knowing is better. It's safer.

But do I want safety, or do I want to feel something for once?

"Faith."

"Pfft." He burst out laughing. "Faith? So ironic."

"Why?"

"Who're you gonna have faith in? Now you have to tell me you believe in God."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Did God save you tonight? Whichever God you've prayed to. Did he listen to your prayers, ever?"

"Jeongin..." His name lingered on my lips for a little while. "You are... how I will pray from now on." I glanced at him with a serious look in my eyes, as we exited the tunnel.

"I'm no God."

"Maybe... But you are mine, for you answered my prayers, didn't you?"

"I just happened to be around to hear them." He shrugged, and I dropped it.

The walk home was filled with silence, as both of us leisurely made our way towards the old, run-down apartment building I live in. As soon as I announced that we arrived, Jeongin disappeared without a trace, and I didn't see him again.

~Six months later~

~Faith's POV~

40.000$.

That's how much I borrowed to pay for my grandmother's hospital bills. Lung cancer was a horrible diagnosis to receive at her old age, but what was I supposed to do? Simply give up on her? She's the one who raised me.

The doctors weren't optimistic, and suggested many times in good faith that we should stop treatment, stop forcing her to fight. The treatment was expensive, the chemotherapy reaching up to as much as 7000$ per month, excluding the additional cost of her having a bed in a shared crappy room at our state hospital. She was hospitalised for a total of 8 months, 6 of which included chemo. It's easy to say that the cost wound up eating away at me, putting me in a dilemma: let my grandmother go, or get money somehow?

I've been working since 13 doing all sorts of odd jobs just to keep us afloat, as my grandma hasn't been able to work due to her sickness in a long time. I even managed to save up some money, a few pretty thousands, but everything I've saved up was gone the first 2 months of her hospital stay, so the only thing I could do was borrow money. However, no bank wanted to loan anything to me, an 18-year-old high school dropout with no consistent job.

I was desperate. I didn't know what to do or who to turn to. We had no one, and with my grandma sick, I was completely on my own. I resorted to associating with bad crowds, and ended up finally meeting a loan shark that was willing to lend me as much as I asked for monthly, which was only my grandma's bills that I couldn't cover from my two jobs. I skipped eating entirely only to be able to pay him back the monthly fare we agreed upon once my grandma passed away, and I became frail. The only times I could eat were when something was left over from the gas station's pastry, or when I could get a 90% discounted product at the supermarket for something that was soon to expire.

In retrospect, I made the wrong choices. My grandma suffered badly, the chemo only made her weaker, the meds made her dizzy and sick, and by the end she became a shell of herself. I should've let her go peacefully, and I shouldn't have borrowed any money.

But I did. 40.000$, with interest 60.000$.

And the 2 jobs I had – now only one, ever since the gas station closed down – barely paid for my rent of the crappy one-room in the old, run-down apartment building and the loan.

Scraping by, trying to find another job I could work night shifts in, I kept agonising.

Just a bit more!

I tried to tell myself again, but who was I trying to fool? How many years would I need to lie to myself like this? How many years have I already lied?

My train of thoughts was interrupted when the door of my apartment opened up forcefully.

I stood up and glanced at the two masked men walking through the door like they owned the place.

"You turned off your phone." One voice spoke, and I quickly realised it was the loan shark. "And you paid me too little last month. Trying to run away from your responsibilities?" He came threateningly in front of me and slapped my left cheek with force. I felt the iron taste of blood inside my mouth, but I didn't cry out in pain.

"I didn't turn off my phone." I tried defending myself. "It broke down and I didn't have money to replace it. And I paid you a little bit less because I lost one of my jobs, but I will make it up to you as soon as I get hired again."

"And when's that? Fucking bitch." He raised his hand again, making me wince in anticipation.

"I- I don't know." I stuttered. "I've been trying to find something, but-"

"I know, Boss. Why don't we hire her at the new place? She's not that ugly, I bet she could bring in banks." The other masked man spoke. I didn't like the sound of it.

"Great idea. You're gonna start working tonight at the new club opened on Fable street."

"Wait-" I raised my hands in the air trying to get his attention. "I don't- I can't- I'm not a prostitute!" I shouted, trying to explain somehow and make him understand that I don't want to take this job no matter what.

"You won't sleep with anyone. You're just going to play hostess and serve drinks, make sure customers are happy. That's all." The loan shark shrugged as if it was nothing. As if I was so naïve, I couldn't tell that he was lying. There was no just playing hostess and serving drinks. Things didn't work like that in the real world, and I hated the idea of doing that kind of job, selling my body to strange men – I wanted to avoid clubs all together.

"But-" I started, before getting quickly cut off.

"Tonight, 10 PM, Fable Street 142. Dress up nicely, a short skirt would be preferable, and put some ice on that cheek, otherwise you'll bruise, and no customer will want to look at that ugly face. Oh, and you'd better be there, unless you want me to fucking kill you, or even better, sell you off to get my money back."

Bastard.

Even though I put ice on my swollen cheek, the bruise still started to form, and I didn't have any make-up to cover it up.

In terms of clothes, my wardrobe was also scarce. However, I managed to find a short black skirt that was hugging my thighs a bit too tight for my liking, and that was barely covering up my bum. I grabbed a sort-of matching low crop black shirt, and looking at myself in the mirror, I felt like a slut.

The only thing covering up my body was a big winter coat that I hugged around me as tightly as I could while I made my way on the dark streets to Fable 142. Indeed, a new club opened here. Glancing around, the only neighbours would be whoever lived in the house on Fable 143 – if there was even someone living there, for the place looked pretty abandoned – so poor them, because it was sure that this club, like all the others run by this loan shark, would be noisy as hell.

I entered the club and made my way towards the bar, where the loan shark sipped lazily on some whiskey.

"Look at you, you're presentable at least. But your cheek is bruising up, didn't you listen to me?"

"I did." I replied drily.

"I must've hit you too hard. It's not like you didn't deserve it, so whatever." He shrugged. "Take off the coat and start serving, the bartender will let you know which tables need which drinks."

~Jeongin's POV~

"Yo, Chris, wanna come with across the street? A new club opened up. Maybe we'll find some food." Minho smirked evilly.

"Nah, I'm good. Not hungry at the moment." Chris shrugged and continued reading whatever book he was holding.

"Seungmin? Jisung? Jeongin?" Minho continued asking around the room.

"I'd like to go." Felix replied.

"Hmm, me too. I do feel a bit hungry." Jisung got up from the sofa and tossed aside the remote control of the TV in the living room.

"Fine, I'll come too, if y'all are going." I stood up as well, and the four of us made our way vis-à-vis.

The club was loud, and the smell of smoke was intoxicating. We quickly found an empty table and Minho ordered a few bottles of expensive rum, whiskey and champagne, before starting to look around the room hungrily, hunting for tonight's unlucky victim.

I looked around the room as well and noticed how full the circular tables with leather sofas around them were, and then something caught my eye. Or rather – someone.

Faith was wearing a short, indecent black skirt with a top just as small. She presented a Dom Perignon champagne bottle to the men around the table directly in front of us, and they urged her to sit down next to them and pour the angel's tears in their glasses.

She seemed uncomfortable.

One of the men was getting touchy with her, his hand brushing over her naked thigh, and with each of his touches, her expression would grow even more cramped. Her whole body looked stiff, and I couldn't believe how no one cared for her comfort. But men will be men, and the only thing they cared about in this state – drunk, totally intoxicated – was getting to touch a pretty woman everywhere, and releasing themselves, preferably inside of her.

Why is she here?

After our encounter 6 months ago, I don't know what was wrong with me. I grew some sort of infatuation towards her, and I kept watching her more often from the shadows. I found out she's living a chaotic, sad life, working two jobs seemingly to support herself, all the money going God knows where. I never showed myself in front of her again, though, because what good would it do?

But strangely enough, I was curious to see how this small human navigated her day-to-day life, and I knew her gas station and cashier jobs' schedule by heart. I even remembered her name, which was another first. I never cared to remember any names before. And even more than that, it was the first time I wasn't interested in her blood, but rather in herself, but I didn't want to do anything with this curiosity, so I stopped following her around about a month ago.

She's just a pathetic human. I would tell myself. And she's going to die anyway.

So why was I now feeling so much discomfort, seeing the man try to move his fingers up her skirt?

Why is she here? Why isn't she at the gas station?

She suddenly got up and bowed shortly, before leaving the room and basically running to the bathroom. The man seemed persistent, however, and got up, going after her, and my feet once more moved without my will, towards them.

The man grabbed Faith by the hand and spun her around, grabbing her behind with his free hand and lifting up her short skirt. She protested and tried pushing him away, but before she got the chance to, I grabbed the man by his collar and threw him on the ground. One glance at him made all the annoyance in his gaze disappear, getting replaced by fear. He stood up and walked away, leaving me and Faith on the small corridor.

As soon as she saw me, her eyes went wide, in a similar fashion to the night we met.

"Jeongin." She breathed, my name sounding sweet on her lips.

I got closer to her and replaced the man's position, letting her skirt back down instead of lifting it up. I put my face closer to hers, and breathed in her perfume-less, natural scent, which was so sugary, it almost drove me crazy. This night I was hungry. I kissed her neck slowly and tried to fight all urges inside of me to not bite her then and there, and I was expecting to hear her complaining of my actions, but instead, she rolled her head back against the wall, giving me more access to her bare neck.

"Back again in danger's lap?" I whispered, feeling the way her body reacted to my words, how she crumbled in front of me.

"You helped me again." Her hands found their way to my waist, and she held on tightly.

"What are you doing here, Faith? This is not you." I trailed my hands down her body, touching the small of her waist, before trailing down to her hips, to her naked thighs, my lips still dangerously close to her neck. Oh, how I wanted to sink my teeth in her soft skin and taste her.

"I didn't have a choice." Her hands also moved from my waist, upwards towards the back of my shoulders, and she pulled me in closer.

"Do you want to bite me?" She asked seductively, making my breath hitch in my throat. Of course, I didn't actually need to breathe, but I learnt to do so naturally so as to seem more human-like.

"Why would you ask that?"

"I've been thinking about you. A lot. And I figured it out." She whispered.

If I had a beating heart, I was sure it would've beat harder than ever right now. Or stopped. Either or.

"What have you figured out?" I asked.

"What you are."

"What am I?"

"A vampire." She whispered again, slowly, the words rolling off her tongue.

"Bullshit. Vampires don't exist." I smirked.

"You exist, though."

"So you made out I'm no God, then?" I grinned again.

"I told you, Jeongin. When I'm down on my knees, you're how I pray. You can be anything, and I wouldn't care."

Fuck, how badly I wanted this human girl to be mine. To have her completely for myself and learn everything about her, to drink her blood whenever I please and to fuck her senseless – first time I've ever felt this urge, a new feeling rising up inside of my chest, making the shirt on me feel too tight.

"Faith, stop working at this place. Don't let any degenerate touch you." I whisper while slowly kissing her neck again, the small moans from her lips intoxicating me more than anyone else's blood ever could.

"I need money."

I raised my head and examined her face closely, and that's when I noticed a dark patch on her left cheek.

"Who did this to you?" I touched her cheek softly, seeing her wince in pain.

"The same bastard I've borrowed money from. I couldn't pay back this month's share fully, so he hit me, then brought me here."

"How much do you need?"

"25.000$ more"

"Ouch. Why don't you show me the unlucky bastard who hit you, pretty?"

"Why? What good would it do?"

"To pay him back, of course." I smiled innocently, thinking of all the ways I was going to fuck up the idiot's face.

I raised my head and looked down into Faith's eyes, surprised to see no more fear in them. Instead, something else seemed to glimmer – curiosity, perhaps. I resumed my initial position in the crook of her neck.

"It's the owner of this club."

"Got involved with a bad gang, pretty?"

"I did. And now I'm paying the price." She shrugged. It felt like we were having a talk while drinking a morning coffee, not something as serious as this. It was quite ironic, considering our proximity. My lips were still latched to her skin, stealing small moans with each few seconds of silence between us, and her arms were still pulling me closer, hands on the back of my shoulders.

"I'll clear it up for you, if you promise me you'll live better." I distanced myself from her again, afraid that I would really sink my teeth in her. I wasn't sure if she would want me to, and Chris' words to respect humans' autonomy echoed through my head. It was shocking, really, to truly care about her autonomy, and no one else's.

"What do you know about how I've been living?" She raised an eyebrow, grabbing the collar of my shirt and holding it tightly. I let her do whatever she wanted. That's the privilege of my interest in her. "And if you help me, will you just disappear again?"

"I don't know. Probably. You don't need me hanging over your head."

"I want you, though." She replied bluntly. "You see, Jeongin... playing with death seems to be the only thing that makes me feel alive."

I was baffled. The burning in her eyes made it impossible to look away from her. It was like there was something unspoken between us, a connection I couldn't back away from, and I once again wondered what it was about this mortal girl that made me feel this way.

I forgot that I, too, used to be mortal. I haven't always been a blood thirsty vampire, and I haven't always longed for human's very essence.

Looking into her eyes, though, I remembered, and it came down on me like a wave crashing against the shore. I used to have this burning in my eyes too, and I used to want to live, as I was rotting away in a hospital bed a few hundred years ago.

"Will you offer to me just like that, Faith? Will you come with me? Will you continue praying to me, no matter what I'll do to you?" I asked her in such a low voice, it almost came up as a whisper, barely audible in the club's uproar.

The corners of her mouth lifted up in a mischievous smile, before she pulled on my collar and made our lips collide.

~Faith's POV~

I must be crazy.

No sane person would do what I've done.

Jeongin was walking leisurely in front of me, his right arm stretched backwards to hold my hand firmly.

The realisation that I was following a vampire God knows were at 3 AM after just kissing him sunk into the bottom pit of my stomach, and I started feeling very dizzy. It was surely the lack of sleep that made me feel this way. How many hours have I been awake for?

"How old are you? How did you become a vampire?" I asked, trying to steer away from the tightness of my chest.

"Someone turned me when I was 21. Many, many years ago."

"Who? Why?"

"I don't know. I can't remember his face. I was sick, on the verge of death. I probably had something that doctors would call an autoimmune disease nowadays. It wasn't much known of medicine back then, though, so I can't be sure. Then I got pneumonia, and I knew I was done for."

"Fuck, so you've been sick your whole life?"

"Yes. Couldn't really get out of bed much. I remember my mother's face when she took me outside in the sun, on the rare occasions she had enough time to. I had 6 other siblings, so she was a busy woman."

The fact that he was answering my questions without any complaints made me feel more at ease, making the knot in my stomach slowly disappear.

"Really? What happened to them?"

"They all knew I died, and since the form of pneumonia I had was contagious, there was no open casket. It was easy enough to fool them into thinking someone was in there, buried in the ground. I continued helping them out and left money from time to time, but they never saw me again."

"That's sad. Weren't you lonely?"

~Jeongin's POV~

"That's sad. Weren't you lonely?" Faith asked, a pitiful look in her eyes.

"Well, why would you want to be alone? Doesn't it get lonely?" Chris' words echoed inside my head, making me close my eyes.

Why does everyone assume I've been lonely?

And why does it feel like they are right?

"I don't know." I replied truthfully, feeling her hold my hand tighter.

"I am lonely." Faith continued, looking ahead. We weren't going anywhere in particular. I just wanted to get her out of the club and walk somewhere with her. Being in her proximity was not healthy for her, she would for sure end up bitten with the hunger growing in my body.

I don't want to bite her, though, or to taste her blood.

I don't think I would be able to stop if I did.

"I borrowed money to pay for my grandma's hospital bills. She was really sick, and then she died. It was all in vain. That's why I work two jobs now, to pay everything back."

"Hmm. I see. Which reminds me, why weren't you at the gas station?"

"How do you know I've worked there?" She raised an eyebrow.

Fuck.

"I followed you around for a bit, after we first met."

"No way! And you didn't meet me even once?!" She pouted. "I wanted to see you again so badly, Jeongin!"

"Didn't you promise me you'd forget about everything?" I raised my eyebrow playfully as well.

"I lied." She grinned. "The gas station shut down. The owners went bankrupt."

"Oh, that sucks."

"Indeed. That's why I'm apparently a part time hostess, part time prostitute at the new club."

"Nah, you won't go back there."

"I won't?" She asked, surprised.

"You won't."

"Jeongin, I..." she started speaking, her voice trembling. "I don't feel so good..."

"Why, what's wrong?" I turned around just in time to see her knees giving out.

She would've definitely fell, if I weren't there to catch her.

~Faith's POV~

Huh?

What... happened...?

I opened my eyes to see the curtains of an unfamiliar room, my head pounding with pain.

"Hello." A voice I didn't recognize sang next to my bed. I turned my head to see a man leisurely reading a book, his legs crossed. "Slept well?"

"Who... uhm... where am I?" I stumbled on my words and looked straight into the man's eyes, noticing a familiar crimson pigment in his irises.

"This would be Jeongin's room." The man replied, closing the book and meeting my gaze.

"Oh."

"And I am Chris, he asked me to look after you until he returns."

"Where did he go?"

"To eat."

"Oh."

Chris was beautiful, there was no doubt about it. His jaw was so sharp, I was certain it could cut through glass, and there was just something about him... emanating confidence, making you unable to look away.

"Will he be gone long?" I asked the man, noticing him shrug a bit.

"I'm not sure. I assume you're hungry as well? We bought you something earlier, hopefully you'll like it."

"Uhm... Chris?" I start, unsure, holding the duvet closer to my chest. I cursed myself for having worn such inappropriate clothes last night to the club. "Do you perhaps have... uhm... a change of clothes?"

"It's okay sweetie, we aren't that desperate to bite you just after seeing some skin. Most of us aren't, anyway."

Well, that surely is assuring.

"I am the one uncomfortable, though..." I grimaced. "Not because of you. It's just... not my usual style."

"Hmm, I guess you could borrow something from Jeongin's closet if you want."

"He's so tall, though."

"Changbin?" Chris said, as if the person he wanted to talk to was in the room. I was shocked to see the door open not even 2 seconds later.

"You asked for me?" A black-haired man walked inside. "Hey." He waved at me, acknowledging my presence. He seemed excited to be here, and he was smiling at me way too eagerly.

"Yea, can you bring some pants for Faith? Jeongin's clothes are too large."

"Sure. Or I could go buy something real quick. What size are you, Faith?"

"Uhm... I'm not sure? Probably S or M?" I reply with a shrug. I haven't bought clothes in forever, so I really didn't know.

"Mkay, be right back." Changbin left as quickly as he came.

"Wanna wait for him, or should we go down for you to eat?"

"We can wait..."

"Sure, whichever makes you more comfortable."

"Chris?"

"Hm?"

"Are you okay with me knowing about...?" I hesitated.

"About what?" He raised an eyebrow as if he was daring me to keep talking.

"About the fact that you are... vampires?" I gulped, noticing the small twitch of his mouth.

"I don't have much choice. Each of us has an obsession, and we can't help it. You're Jeongin's."

Huh?

I blushed uncontrollably.

"So, what's yours?"

Chan chuckled. "Mine? Hard to say. Haven't found it yet."

"It?" I asked a bit offended. "Is that how you generally refer to people? Like they're objects?"

"What? No." He shook his head. "You misunderstood. Each of us has... their own thing they are extremely obsessed with for no particular reason. Think of it like this: what you specifically like as a human being gets amplified 1000%. Imagine your favourite thing in the world is Chocolate Fudge Brownie ice cream. If you become a vampire, you don't simply enjoy eating that the most. You are so obsessed with it, you would literally be almost unable to live without the thing."

"Oh, I assumed it would be... a person. Sorry."

"No, not necessarily. No worries." He waved his hand around in the air.

"So what other... obsessions do you guys have?"

"Well, the man you just met earlier-"

"I'm back!" Changbin burst through the door, startling me and making Chan chuckle.

"He can answer that himself." Chan grinned.

"Answer what?" Changbin raised an eyebrow, still supporting multiple shopping bags on his arms.

"Your obsession." I clarified, feeling that Chan was having a bit too much fun making me look like a curious idiot who wasn't able to ask things themselves.

"Oh, can't you figure it out?" Changbin smirked, dropping all bags on the floor and starting to flex his muscles.

Chan started clapping with a loud laugh, as if impressed by his friends' show.

I smiled with content and asked what's in the shopping bags. Changbin seemed kind of dejected that I didn't pay more attention to his muscles. I couldn't lie, he was attractive as fuck, but I got my eye on someone else already, so...

"Why did you buy so little? She's gonna need a lot more." Chan scolded Changbin as I examined the pants he brought back with him. I found out he brought me a few clothes, so I'd have a selection to choose from, and even if Chan thought it's not much, it was more than my whole wardrobe back home.

"You know how peculiar I.N is about style! It's best if she just goes shopping with him directly." Changbin whined.

"Who's peculiar about style?" Jeongin entered the room, seeing him in the daylight was a cultural reset. He was the most beautiful man who ever walked the earth, and I was grateful to finally be able to examine him clearly under good lighting. The same red eyes, crimson stained lush lips and prominent cheekbones brought me a sense of familiarity and I felt safe.

"No one, no one! Anyways, I'm gonna let you to it." Changbin excused himself, and Chan followed soon after.

"I'd say go with this blouse if you like those pants." Jeongin commented, seeing me be indecisive. Having little clothes to pick from would've been way easier.

"Thanks. How was the meal?" I asked him, genuinely curious. It would be a lie to say I was not interested in how vampires live, now that I found out for sure that they are real.

"Wh-what?" He stuttered. "Why would you want to... know that?"

"I mean... no reason in particular. I just want to know things about you, I guess?" I stumbled on my words as well, not expecting Jeongin to grow shy.

"It was... good, I guess? Could've been better."

"Oh. Uhm... do people... taste differently?"

"... Yea, they do."

"That's insane. Do you think I-"

"Did you eat breakfast?" Jeongin cut me off, and seeing the tip of his ears grow as red as his lips, I decided to drop it for now.

However, I was really curious to know what my blood tasted like. This was a weird new oddity of mine.

"No, not yet."

"You should, so let's go downstairs, what do you say?"

We both made our way to the kitchen where another red-haired vampire I didn't recognise was cutting up all sorts of vegetables. He quickly shifted his attention to the pan of the stove where two eggs were slowly getting cooked, sunny side up.

"Morning." He smiled briefly and waved. "I'm Minho, the guy in charge of your meals from now on."

"Hi, thank you. I'm Faith. Wait- from now on?" I turned and glanced at Jeongin.

"We were thinking that it would be best if you started living with us, so-"

"We're trying to be accommodating." Minho cut him off.

"Uhm, okay..." I looked again at Jeongin, unsure, then sat down at the table and watched as Minho placed a plate in front of me.

"I don't remember when I last ate breakfast." I mumbled, and Minho hummed, then sat down in front of me, elbows on the table and head in his hands, and looked at me expectantly. Jeongin also sat down next to me and started speaking.

"So, Faith, about that loan shark..."

"Yea?" I turned my head to him, but Minho was growing impatient, so he leaned over the table and moved the plate towards me. The gesture caught me off guard, making me chuckle slightly. I got the memo and took some bread, swirling it in the egg yolk, then brought it to my mouth to eat.

"I killed him." Jeongin said, as if it was the most usual thing in the world. I, caught off guard once again, for entirely different reasons this time, choked on the bread and started coughing. Minho gave me a glass of water, and I gulped it down.

"You what?" I asked after I collected myself.

"I killed him." Jeongin shrugged again.

"Oh." Was all I could say in return. What was I supposed to answer anyway? They probably kill people on the daily basis to eat, so-

"Oh my." Minho shook his head. "Bad, I.N, bad. When's the last time you killed someone?"

"70 years ago...?" Jeongin tilted his head, unbothered. "Although I killed two ever since meeting Faith."

"Tsk. Bad influence. What did the unlucky dudes do?" Minho chuckled.

"The first one tried to assault Faith, and the second one hit her."

"Mhm." Minho nodded.

70 years ago...?

"Don't you normally kill people when you suck their blood?" I asked bluntly, the two men's heads turning at me.

"No." Minho replied with a gentle smile. "We are a bit... conservative, in this regard. We let them live."

"Really? But... if you bite them and let them live, wouldn't they turn into vampires?" I asked, confused.

"What, do you think we're zombies or some shit? That it's transmissible like a virus?" Jeongin chuckled.

"I mean, it would make sense." I shrugged.

"No." Jeongin replied with a slight laugh.

"If people don't turn after getting bitten... how do they turn?"

"That's the first step, but it's not enough. A bite would make you feel sick for a few days at most, then you'd be back to normal." Minho clarified.

We continued chatting for a while, and it was such a weird feeling, sitting at the kitchen table talking sweet nothings in the morning, as if I've always been with them, as if we've known each other forever and shared food at breakfast every morning.

After six months of living with Stray Kids – as I learnt that that's what they were calling themselves – the feeling that I was home continued to grow in my chest.

It was certainly an unusual situation, living among vampires while my heart kept pumping blood, but seeing that all the other vampires in the house seemed to care for my comfort – at least out of respect for Jeongin – and didn't want to hunt me down or eat me or anything was pretty relieving. Even our bonds became stronger, and I was sure some of them considered me genuinely pleasant to be around, if not a friend. Felix and I would play games daily, Lee Know taught me how to cook simple meals, Seungmin taught me photography, Changbin would sometimes take me to the gym to get in shape, Han and I would sing songs together – even if his voice was angelic and mine was the opposite of that, Hyunjin and I would paint together, I would read and discuss books with Chan, and Jeongin...

Jeongin was, to me, the most important person in the world.

My feelings for him just grew and grew and grew and they were so big I was sure they were going to swallow me eventually. I also knew he felt something for me too, just from the way he cared for me. He treated me like I was a precious porcelain doll – with care and consideration. At night, he would hold me in his arms until I fell asleep, and he wouldn't leave my side even afterwards, even if he wouldn't be sleeping. He said it's enough just to hear me breathing, knowing I'm happy, and safe.

We haven't kissed again since that night in the club 6 months ago, which hurt. I wanted Jeongin in all ways. I wanted to be his, I wanted him to capture my lips and fuck me and bite me without thinking of any repercussions.

I wanted him to turn me into a vampire.

Tonight, just as usual, we were laying in bed, Jeongin was waiting for me to sleep. My head was on his shoulder, and my fingers were tracing the shape of his neck.

He was warm to the touch, and soft, which indicated to me that he must've eaten today, or yesterday.

Watching his neck in the soft moonlight, my fingers touched two scarred spots on his skin.

"Jeongin...?" I started.

"Hm?"

"These spots here... is this where you were bitten?"

"Yes."

"When you were turned?"

"Yea."

"Do you remember... how it happened?"

"Not much.... I told you before... I was a sickly child, and on my deathbed, a man visited me. I don't remember what he looked like, and I don't know why he did it, but... he decided I should live, so he bit my neck."

"But you said biting someone is not enough to turn them." I raised my head to look him in the eyes.

"Because it's not. There is still... something else you have to do to become a vampire."

"What is it?"

"You must drink a vampire's blood."

"Oh... how did you... do it?"

"The man cut his hand, and I felt a warm liquid getting poured in my mouth... his blood." Jeongin looked at me, trying to grasp my reaction. When there was none, he asked. "Aren't you shocked, Faith?"

"Why would I be? No... I'm actually... glad."

"Glad?" He chuckled. "Why?"

"Because thanks to that man, I got to meet you."

"I'm also glad we met, Faith." He cupped my cheek with his hand, and we looked at each other for a little while.

"Jeongin, I feel like you made me wait enough..." I said, and pressed my lips against him, as his hands moved on my waist and pulled me in his lap.

"I didn't mean to. It's just... it's hard to control myself around you sometimes, when all I want to do is sink my teeth in your neck and taste you."

I leaned in next to his ear and whispered, "Do it.", and I felt his grip on my waist tighten.

"What if... I wouldn't be able to stop...?" He looked into my eyes, seriousness laced into his glance.

"I don't care." I shook my head. "I love you, and I want you to have me in every possible way. Please. I want to be with you forever. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I feel happiest when you're around."

"I feel the same way." He smiled, cupping my cheek once again and raising his head to meet mine, pecking my lips.

"Can't you... drink from me, at least once, and... turn me?"

"Faith... I don't know if that's the best thing for you... I don't even know if loving me is right."

"Yet I do. But why... are you saying this?"

"Because of who I am." He smiled sadly. "I have a horrible past, and you certainly deserve better."

"I would take on the whole world for you, Jeongin. I thought you knew that..."

"Before deciding on anything... I must confess all my sins. If, after hearing about my past, you are still sure you want me... then Faith, I will do whatever you want me to do. I will submit to you wholly."

Jeongin started telling me about his early childhood, about his brothers and sisters, and his fond memories of them. He told me about turning into a vampire, how painful it was, how hungry he woke up, how he couldn't recognise himself anymore, as soon as he turned. He told me about his early vampire days, about the people he mercilessly murdered just for his own entertainment, about how he met Chris and the others, and how he got here.

He spoke for a long time, and I just listened, my head pressed against his chest, where normally a beating heart should keep him alive. There was no beating coming from his chest, though. Jeongin was dead, and I was alive, and it was hard to grasp, still.

After he finished talking, he changed our positions, making me lay down while his head laid on my chest this time.

"Your heart beats nicely..." he spoke softly, his ear pressed against me, listening closely to my unruly heart. After everything he told me, a normal person would've been scared, repulsed, even. But I...?

I now understood what made Jeongin himself, and I loved him even more now.

"Faith... don't you want children? A family? Growing old with someone you love? If you continue to pick me, you won't be able to have any of those things..."

"I don't need any of that." I replied truthfully. "As long as I have you..."

"I am a monster, and you want me?" He chuckled. I caressed his hair.

"You are not a monster. You are my everything. I am not religious, but... I told you before. You are the closest thing to God I'll ever encounter in this life, and the fact that we met... must've been fate, don't you think?"

"If I'm your God... you are my Faith." Jeongin spoke, then pulled down my blouse and kissed my chest softly. He moved upwards and kissed his way from my collarbones to my neck. He sucked a few marks on it, his sloppy, wet kisses making me moan, and after a few seconds, a stinging pain made me wince, and I grabbed his back for support. I felt his teeth sink deep in my neck, as he sucked my blood slowly, and my whole body stiffed in place from the pain.

"Shh." He whispered, taking out his fangs and kissing the sore spot. "You did well." He praised me, continuing to kiss my neck.

"How... was it?" I asked, trying to hold back tears. It hurt, but there was something erotic about the way he bit me and kept kissing me, and I felt my core aching for some friction, for any sort of contact between our bodies.

Jeongin must've known it too, for he pressed his crotch against mine, making me moan as his hard cock pressed against my pussy.

"The best blood I've ever tasted. Fuck, you taste so good, Faith. I want to bite you again." He said, and without missing a beat, his lips latched to my chest, just above my breast, and his teeth sank in my skin once again. Another sharp pain awoke my senses, and I rolled my head back, trying to relax.

Jeongin's left hand trailed on my body, cupping my right breast slightly, then touching the hem of my pants and underwear, taking them down in a swift motion. His thumb started working on my nub, his teeth still in me, and I spread my legs open for him, giving him full access.

The next time he moved his mouth, he brought it against mine, and kissed me, parting my lips with his tongue. I opened my mouth and let our tongues play, and the first thing I felt was the salty, metallic taste on his tongue. I was tasting my own blood in his mouth, and I moaned once again. I was already a wet mess, ready for him to take me however he wanted.

He once again seemed to know, as he took off his pants quickly and positioned himself between my legs, his dick touching my entrance. He pushed in, continuing to kiss me, and when he bottomed out, I saw stars.

A few thrusts in and he established a quick rhythm, hitting all the right places as I clenched around him. The sounds coming from my lips were obscene, but muffled by his mouth as he fucked himself into me.

"Fucking hell, Faith, this is just too good." He praised me again and again.

"This is not hell... it's heaven." I replied, through hurried breaths, feeling myself almost get over the edge. "I'm so close." I cried out, and as soon as I said that, Jeongin moved from my lips to my neck, on the other side that was still unmarked.

He pushed his dick in and out of me harshly, grazing my G spot over and over, and I felt my orgasm take over all my senses, making me see stars, moment when Jeongin's teeth marked my skin once more, biting me and drawing blood for him to drink.

The combination between pleasure and pain was euphoric, and I felt myself get dizzier and dizzier, completely fucked up.

"You're the best." Jeongin spoke, his own orgasm coming quickly enough as his warm seed released inside of me. He kissed my lips again, and then plopped down next to me.

I turned around to face him, when he bit his own wrist, blood dripping on the covers.

"Faith... the ultimate decision is yours. You can stay human, and I will love and cherish you until the end of your life, or... you could join me in this deathless life. Now, next time, or never. Whatever you choose, and whenever you're ready to choose, I will be happy to stay by your side regardless."

"Are you proposing to me after just one night together?" I joked, and Jeongin smiled kindly.

He put his wrist close to my head and I grabbed his arm, looking into his eyes. The choice was obvious, and I was determined, so I licked a long stripe of blood from his elbow until the bite, and I closed my eyes.

The taste was similar to when we kissed earlier, metallic and salty, only slightly different, as it was now not only my blood I was tasting, but his as well, and I found it so beautiful, knowing the same blood would flow through both our bodies.

I latched my mouth against the bite and closed my eyes shut, forcing myself to drink Jeongin's blood, even if the taste was making me nauseous.

He petted my hair gently, and after a few long seconds, my chest started throbbing with pain and I felt myself suffocating for air.

The pain was like nothing I've ever experienced before, not even when that loan shark would hit me and I would bruise for weeks on end. My whole body burned so badly, like it was on fire. My head hurt and I couldn't understand anything around me. All I could feel was the excruciating pain as Jeongin's blood travelled through me, changing every part I once held familiar, transforming it into something new, something different.

Jeongin took me in his arms against his chest, and held me tight as I was going through agony. I held onto him tight as well. It felt like the only one who could keep me anchored through this was him, so I snuggled closer to him and tried to breathe the pain away while he whispered kind words in my ears that I couldn't even hear well, let alone comprehend.

A few minutes later, my eyes grew heavy, and the world went blank.

The next morning, I woke up, still in Jeongin's arms. He was looking at me expectedly. Hunger pangs overcame me completely, and I felt myself unable to stay still.

"Faith..." he started, looking right into my eyes.

"Did it work...?" I asked him, and he chuckled.

"Red eyes suit you. How are you feeling?"

"I'm so, so hungry..." I replied truthfully, and he smiled.

"I'll teach you how we hunt."

"I can't believe I'm a vampire..." I said, snuggling myself closer to Jeongin. He took my face in his hands and kissed me, and my senses were on overdrive. I felt everything amplified a thousand times. Is this what Chan meant about the obsession? Was Jeongin mine, as I was his?

"I'm happy you chose to be with me forever, Faith."

"You also chose me. Thank you for that, Jeongin. I love you. Truly."

"I love you too. Should we go downstairs?"

We stood up and my body felt foreign. I had more strength than ever, and with just a glance outside, I could hear each individual bird singing in trees as far away as the eyes could reach. I was able to hear people's voices that I couldn't even see, listen to their conversations, I could smell the smoke I saw coming from the chimneys in the distance, and each and all my senses were intensified.

We made our way downstairs and the only ones in the kitchen were Chan and Minho.

"Good morning." Chan smiled. "Faith, you... you're different."

"Yes. I feel different, too..."

"I love your new smell. It's no longer... appetising." Minho smirked.

"Welcome to our family." Chan came next to me and took me in his arms, hugging me tight.

"How didn't any of you bite me until now?" I asked. "I feel so hungry and I smell someone like 10 houses over and the only thing I want to do is go and fucking snap their neck and drink their blood."

"You'll learn to control it, eventually." Chan assured me.

"Yea. It's all about self-control, missy." Minho replied, and I playfully slapped his arm.

It's been more than three years since I've been with Stray Kids, and life, as I once knew it, is now completely different. Or should I say death?

My heart stopped beating three years ago, and with it, the need for normal food, water, oxygen and any other things that make humans... human. The only craving I have now is blood, but after a lot of practice, I can now hunt by myself without needing someone else to help me not lose control. I learnt how to pick my prey and how much I can drink from someone without messing up their whole week.

My bond with Stray Kinds only strengthened with time. They are the family I never had, and the love we have for each other transcended even life and death.

It's funny, really. All these years, I tried so desperately hard to believe that the light at the end of the tunnel is not a train, that it wouldn't end up crushing me under its weight. I wanted so hard to believe that life could be different, that things will change. Now, I know that the light at the end of the tunnel has been and will always be Jeongin, who is my love, my sun, my everything, whom I love unconditionally, who made my heart beat even after it stopped beating, who took my breath away even after I stopped breathing. He is my religion, and I am his Faith.

My days are, for the first time ever since I was born, peaceful, tranquil, and the thought that there will only be serene days from now on, next to Jeongin, my husband, and our family, all the vampires in Stray Kids, is the most beautiful thing in the world.

~The End~

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