#can’t even form proper thoughts on it yet there was just. so much

[scarlet-traveler]

Woooooooow Link Click season 2

#traveler speaks #can’t even form proper thoughts on it yet there was just. so much #dang that was good though #need season 3 asap #but first lu guang and cheng xiaoshi need to hug for like. a day #link click

[moneypowerglorymiddleofmiami]

— trickentine જ⁀➴♡ pt.2

pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader

summary: after lord eros' silly little trick, you're now forced to deal with the consequences— more specifically, in the form of a lovestruck luke castellan.

warnings: tons of corny pick-up lines

genre: still very much a romcom

part 1

note: thank you, thank you! all your support for pt.1 means the world to me! really, i couldn't be more grateful 𖹭 i hope you think this brings justice to the first half 𖹭

─── ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . ───

“What do you mean you can’t do anything?” You suppressed the urge to shriek, settling for gritted emphasis instead. You crossed your arms across your chest, your foot tapping impatiently against the wooden floorboards of the Big House.

“Exactly what it means.” Chiron responded, looking at Luke with more amusement rather than concern.

“But he's under a spell,” You reasoned in disbelief. You might have spilled over your words while you explained the rundown to Chiron, but they were coherent enough to at least get that point across.

“It’ll wear off eventually, kid.” Mr. D downed an entire can of diet soda in one go before procuring another one in his outstretched hand. He snickered at the intent puppy eyes Luke was giving you. “That type of love magic won’t last long. Best to let it run its course than tamper with it.”

“But–” You wanted to argue before Mr. D stopped you. He pushed his feet up on his desk.

“Look, at least this proves that your boyfriend actually loves you.” He gave you a pointed look. What does that even mean? “Now, leave.”

You huffed indignantly, but decided against speaking further. You begrudgingly turned around and pulled Luke up by his arm, guiding him towards the narrow hallway that led to the foyer.

“When did I become your boyfriend?” Luke huddled closer to you, whispering as you made your way to the front door.

“You didn’t.” You told him plainly. You shook your head. “You aren’t.”

“Yet.” He responded, his tone a bit mischievous but his gaze sure and determined.

─── ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . ───

You leaned your elbows against the table of the crowded Arts and Crafts Center, your chin resting against the pad of your thumbs. You studied Luke with a contemplating gaze.

“I hit you with one of Eros’ arrows.” You told him. This was hardly the proper place to have this conversation, but the rest of the Aphrodite cabin practically hauled you to the building to begin Valentinkering? Valenmaking? (whatever in Tartarus they decided to call it this year).

“Well, I guess you could say I’ve been lovestruck by you.” He said, giving you a stupid little wink as he mirrored your posture.

“Gods, Luke. That was corny as hell.” You flushed almost as crimson as the container of beads in front of you. “Also, I’m serious.”

“And who said I wasn’t?” He challenged. He smirked against his fist, wiggling his eyebrows.

You snorted. “The fact that you’re under some valentine voodoo makes all your intentions questionable.”

“You wound me.” He feigned offense, pouting as he clutched at the fabric of his shirt above his chest. “To be fair, my train of thought has always been questionable when it comes to you.”

“On a more serious note, I do remember the whole arrow thing.” He told you, his lips pursed. “I don’t blame you; it was a complete accident. It just feels… odd.”

“Again: unimpressed.” You buried your face into your hands, the second hand embarrassment of his poor attempt at flirting was overwhelmingly potent. Besides, it was difficult not to react when he looked at you so intently, like he was trying to memorize every minute detail of you.

Your ears perked up, worried. “You feel odd?”

“No,” He shook his head. His expression was perplexed, maybe a bit incredulous too. “That’s the thing. I feel completely normal.”

“That is weird.” You agree. You wrap the string in between your fingers around his wrist, measuring it to his size. "Maybe it was just a prank?"

“No. If anything, it’s more like I can’t hold my tongue.” He shrugs. “I can’t help but say what I think.”

“Would that explain the flirting?” You tease. All cheeky, but with a hint of curiosity hidden beneath the humor.

He leaned in, smirking. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

You stare at him, tilting your head. He returns your gaze just as intensely, brown eyes fixed onto yours. He raises an eyebrow as if to question your silence. There was something magnetic between the two of you, pulsing and pulling you closer— maybe not physically, but definitely in other ways unbeknownst to you.

“Woah!” Percy exclaimed with an accusatory edge to his tone, his eyebrows furrowed in disbelief and his palms raised as if to distance himself from you. “Respect for the children, maybe? Consider shielding my young impressionable eyes from this trauma?”

“Percy!” You squeaked rather uncharacteristically. Annabeth trailed behind closely, pushing a leg over the bench to sit beside you. You smiled at her, tugging her closer by placing your arm around her shoulders.

“Annabeth,” Luke called. “Trade places with me.”

Annabeth furrowed her eyebrows in confusion before narrowing her eyes in suspicion. “No.”

“Come on.” He persisted. He leaned in, almost conspiratorial. “You know, the Stoll brothers have an extensive archive, and I think I may have heard word of them having that Rem Kolhaas book you've been raving about."

Annabeth stopped to consider the offer before ultimately conceding. She stood up from her seat. “That’s a big bribe for a small favor.”

“Know what prices to pay to win your battles.” Luke muttered as he sidled up next to you, grinning triumphantly. His fingers played with the hem of your weathered camp shirt. “Sacrifices aren’t much in the face of victory.”

“Did you just use a bad battle strategy as a flirting tactic?” Annabeth scrunched her nose in distaste. “Gross.”

"Done." You finish tying up the ends, letting the red bracelet dangle in Luke's line of vision.

"It looks so pretty, baby." He compliments you, holding out his wrist. You proudly put it on for him. "Not as pretty as you though."

You scoff. Both Annabeth and Percy imitate gagging noises.

─── ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . ───

The only time you ever truly left each other’s side were the few moments of reprieve before dinner where you’d returned to your cabins. The older campers insisted on making the meal a whole affair, complete with a romantic candlelit set-up and a string quartet to serenade everyone. Chiron decided to indulge the request and sent everyone back to freshen up.

“Have fun with your boyfriend?”

“Christ!” You jumped in your spot, turning around to see Eros laying on one of the bunks. His arms were tucked underneath his head, his smile suggestive and knowing.

“Lord Eros,” You bowed.

“That is not your shade.” He tutted, pointing to the tinted gloss in your hand. “Too summery for your complexion this time of year. Go for the pink one. He’ll go berserk.”

“Thanks.” You muttered, facing your vanity once more. You dabbed the product against your lips. You sighed as you inspected your make-up. Once more, he was right.

“You didn’t answer my question.” He shifted to his side, looking at you expectantly.

“Yeah, I guess.” You grumbled. You looked down, pretending to look for something in your drawer so he wouldn’t notice the blush creeping up your cheeks. Luke refused to leave your side the entire day— his fingers hooked around the belt hoops of your skirt in one way or another. He made a whole spectacle of it too: his big brown eyes tender, his wistful sighs, his shy grins, his playful winks.

“Good.” He clapped his hands. “Gods, the boy has had a crush on you for forever, you know. It was torture watching him pine over you. I can only take so much longing.”

You froze, staring at him through the mirror. He stared back at you.

“What?”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t know,” He sounded shocked; he was shocked. “You’re a daughter of Aphrodite, how could you not know?! That's like our thing!”

“Well, he hasn’t been obvious, has he?” You rebutted, flicking your wrist.

“Sis, I don’t know what reality you’re living in,” He sat up on the bed, “But that boy wouldn’t know subtle even if it hit him in the face.”

“But surely it’s just because of the arrows.” You rationalized.

“Nuh uh.” He wiggles a finger in the air to deny the accusation. “The arrows you used just accentuate pre-existing feelings. Not make new ones.”

A knock interrupts your conversation. You hurry to fix your hair, brushing it out of the way. Your hands begin to shake with giddy excitement. You feel your heart thrum strongly against your chest, almost wanting to burst out from the confines of your body and find its other half in Luke. Your smile eventually becomes hard to contain.

Eros beams at you, his pupils dilating into hearts again like it did this morning. He opens the door for you and pushes you out. “Have fun with lover boy. Mother sends her regards.”

Luke spins around at the sound of the squeaky hinges. He can't help but pull a hand out of his pocket, his palm lightly grazing his chest. He whistles. “Call me favored by the gods because I think I’ve just entered Elysium.”

“You’ve been with me the whole day.” You responded pointedly, breathless and in love.

“And yet you still manage to take my breath away.” He gasps when you rush into him, wrapping your arms around his nape.

“This is new.” He looks down at you, your noses touching. His hands fall naturally to your hips, his thumbs rubbing against the fabric of your dress. “But definitely welcome.”

You gaze into his eyes before pressing your lips against his. They felt pleasant and pliant against your own. You tugged Luke closer, your fingers twirling through his curls. His hands squeezed your skin. The kiss burned sweetly, almost as if it’s been waiting in anticipation to happen.

When you both separate for air, Luke gently grabs your hands from behind him. He wraps his fists around yours, placing soft kisses on your knuckles. “I’ve been waiting so long for that.”

“So I’ve been told.” You hum. “I figured I might take the first step.”

“Don’t worry.” He presses another kiss against your lips, short and sweet. “I promise to match your pace the rest of the way.”

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺

taglist: @ace-spades-1 @patitotodd @fandomthings-blog @bugcuti3 @liv1104 @mindflay3r

#luke castellan #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #pjo #pjo tv show #pjo tv series #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy series

[taexual]

sleepwalking ● 17 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.

genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers

warnings: explicit language and depictions of medical treatment (mentions of an IV, not overly descriptive), fluff (!), angst, A LOT of pent-up emotions, SLOW BURN

words: 15.5k (help)

read from the beginning ○ masterlist

chapter 17 ► looking sideways when i say i’m okay with the past, but i’m afraid of what i might say if you ask

When you regained consciousness, it took you a few more minutes to understand what was happening.

In your hazy mind, the first clear thought you could grasp was a memory: Jungkook had gotten into a fight. Instinctively, you imagined yourself standing up and finding him. Not because your job required you to—honestly, you weren’t sure what job you even had at this point, your mind hadn’t sorted itself out yet—but because you wanted to see if he was okay.

You tried to open your eyes, but the room was spinning, and you felt a little queasy from the unexpected vertigo.

You shut your eyes again and tried to focus on your other senses—as best as you could without moving—hoping that this would answer some of the new questions forming in your mind.

You did not know where you were or how you got here, but the room was warm. The lack of proper ventilation made the air feel stuffy.

You didn’t hear any background noise, so you assumed you weren’t at a hospital. But you could hear a lot of shouting in the room. You thought you discerned three different voices, but they were all talking over each other, so it was hard to tell.

You were lying on something soft but scratchy, and a heavy duvet pressed you into the bed. It felt comforting, but you were starting to sweat.

Someone’s hand was on your wrist, their fingers cold.

Reflexively, you squeezed their hand.

“Don’t move,” someone whispered right next to you. Jungkook, you realised. “We’ve called a doctor.”

Your initial reaction was relief. He was here, so he had to be okay.

Your next reaction, however, was pure panic. You didn’t need a doctor. You just needed a minute.

“We should have taken her to a hospital,” another voice argued. “I’ll never forgive you if anything happens to her.”

That had to be Luna, you were sure of it. Your eyes remained closed, but you could envision your friend with her arms crossed over her chest, regarding the boy next to you with a scorching glare.

You didn’t like this mention of a hospital.

You squeezed Jungkook’s hand again, but even as he tried to explain to Luna that you would go on a particularly bloody rampage if he took you to a hospital—he had a point and you would have felt grateful if you hadn’t been so distressed—she still wasn’t hearing him.

You opened your mouth and felt your chapped lips tighten painfully.

“No hospital, please,” you croaked in the voice of someone who had been a successful chain smoker for over fifty years.

You heard Luna whisper-yell, “you’re unbelievable, the both of you!” and you tried to open your eyes again, but nothing had changed. It still felt a bit like gravity had taken a day off as the room and everyone around you continued to float.

You heard a faint voice that you did not recognise, and from the official tone and the immediate chill you felt inside, you deduced that it was the doctor.

“I’m going to administer a very mild sedative,” he said—to whom, you weren’t sure. Your insides felt very heavy. “And set up a drip. Make sure she doesn’t move much or the catheter will—oh, see, like that. That can’t happen.”

Your muscles spasmed involuntarily. Something pricked your arm. You didn’t mind needles, but you did not like IVs. You didn’t need to be sedated.

“I don’t think—” you tried to say when you felt something cold on your arm—the doctor’s hands, presumably, in very unpleasant, squeaky latex gloves. “I don’t think I need this.”

“Can you open your eyes for me, please?” the doctor asked.

“No,” you said with what you hoped was a shake of your head. In reality, you merely wrinkled your nose. “T-that is not something I can do right now. But in a—”

“Your body needs rest,” the doctor explained. Jungkook moved closer until he was clutching your hand with both of his. “It won’t knock you out, but it will relax you, make you a little drowsy. That will likely help you fall asleep naturally. Is that all right?”

You lacked the strength to tell him that you were already very tired—or the strength to tell him that you still had things to do, so you couldn’t just sleep.

The memory of the flooding at the venue in Manchester came back to your mind and your muscles tensed again.

Really, you were about to refuse, but there was hardly anything you disliked more than inconveniencing people. They had invited a doctor for you. He was just doing his job.

“Okay,” you said in quiet defeat.

“Your friends are in the room with you,” the doctor said. You felt a cold sensation on your arm. “They will stay with you and make sure you get plenty of rest. Even after you wake up, you must spend as much time in bed as you possibly can.”

“Don’t phrase it like that,” you heard Jungkook object. “Give us a specific time, or she’ll be out of bed as soon as she wakes up.”

Silence followed. You tried to imagine what was happening. Jungkook must have looked very eager—in his exaggerated manner, which resembled desperation rather than hope. Luna probably nodded in agreement. The doctor, if he was kind enough, smiled at them patiently.

“Two days,” he finally stated. “Today and tomorrow, at the very least. If she has to walk, someone should accompany her. But don’t keep her on her feet for too long. I’ve seen the crowd of people outside this room—don’t tire her out. There should only be one or two people in the room with her, all right? Proper nutrition, sufficient sleep, and a—”

You felt yourself drifting off, and the doctor’s words faded and merged together until you were no longer sure whether you were imagining what a doctor would say in this situation, or if he was actually speaking.

When you opened your eyes again, Luna and Maggie were seated in the armchairs next to your bed. The room had stabilised, allowing you to take in your surroundings before Luna glanced up from her phone and Maggie pulled out her earpods, noticing that you were awake.

The space around you appeared to be a hotel room. Next to the bed stood a metal bar with bags of faint yellow liquid on it. A catheter was attached to your arm and an intravenous line led to it from the drip. You shivered at the sight of it.

“Oh!” Luna’s gasp drew your attention back to her. She dropped her phone on her seat and straightened up. “How are you feeling?”

Right away, Maggie jumped up and removed her earpods.

“Confused,” you spoke and immediately tried to clear your prickly throat.

Maggie leapt forward and grabbed an empty glass from the bedside table. She poured some water from one of the three bottles on the floor and handed it to you.

You couldn’t remember the last time you had water. It tasted heavenly.

“You’re in a hotel room,” Luna explained as you drank. Maggie sat down on the armrest of her friend’s chair. “In Manchester.”

The mention of the city made you glare at her, and both girls breathed a sigh of relief. At least you knew where you were in a broader sense.

“It’s 7 PM,” Luna said after checking her phone. “The band has a day off tomorrow because the concert’s been postponed—”

“Because of the flooding,” you finished, leaning forward to put the glass back on the table. “I remember, Luna. Thanks. What, um—how come I’m here?”

Luna looked at Maggie for a moment, wordlessly asking her to take over the story.

“Well, you fainted,” Maggie started. She wasn’t usually a woman of many words, and this time was no different, which you found comforting. If Maggie didn’t think it was necessary to talk for hours, then you must not have been doing that bad. “Jungkook found you.”

“Yeah,” Luna had to interject with more details—she was still irked about his decision to book a hotel room instead of a hospital room. “And then he spent half an hour describing your symptoms. It took the doctor all of one second to diagnose you with burnout and put you on a vitamin drip. He told us to keep you on bed rest and watch for any more nosebleeds or fainting spells. If they continue, you’ll need to go into urgent care.”

You wanted to ask questions—where did they find this doctor? Where was this hotel? What was happening at the venue?—but the girls were on a roll.

“Meanwhile, I wasn’t even allowed in the room,” Maggie said, returning to her chair and sitting down properly. She was upset that she had missed what Luna had just summarised for you. “The doctor told us that only one person could stay, but neither Luna, nor Jungkook agreed to leave. So, no one else could come in until you were feeling better.”

“Jungkook was the one who decided on the hotel room, by the way,” Luna remarked, seemingly glad to finally express her frustrations. “I argued. I think you should at least have a blood test done. What if you’re anaemic? But—”

“I’m not anaemic,” you finally interrupted as you settled back on the bed. The mattress quickly adjusted to the shape of your body. Closing your eyes, you had to admit that the bed was really quite comfortable. Perhaps you could stay here for a few more hours. “This has happened to me before. I’ll be fine.”

Luna sighed. Her knowledge of the last time this had happened to you came from Jungkook’s haphazard stream of thought as he tried to explain to the doctor that the two of you had been in this exact situation before—you, unconscious, and he, on the verge of losing his mind.

Honestly, for a moment, Luna thought the doctor had considered sedating Jungkook instead of you.

“I knew you were going to say that,” she muttered after a minute. “Jungkook seemed to believe you’d shoot us all dead if we took you to a hospital.”

Gratitude bubbled up in your chest, but when you saw your friend’s solemn features, you tried to soften your response.

“I wouldn’t have shot you,” you said. “I would have smothered you all with pillows."

Maggie scoffed, and Luna rolled her eyes, but the corners of her lips still turned up.

“Nice to see you haven’t gained a sense of humour while you were out,” Maggie teased.

“Ha,” you responded dryly—but you were smiling, too.

Luna crossed her legs on the armchair to get more comfortable. She glanced at Maggie anxiously. The girls weren’t sure if they were tiring you out with their conversation, but you were looking up at the ceiling, not indicating that you were tired in any way, so they decided to continue.

“So, want to tell us how this happened, then?” Luna asked.

You turned your head to her. “I was hoping you’d tell me. I can’t exactly remember.”

“You fainted,” Maggie reminded you. Luna leaned over and gave her a pat on the arm, thanking her for this valuable reminder.

You smiled gently. “You mentioned that. Where’d the doctor come from?”

“Oh, Jungkook found one,” Maggie said. “There’s a clinic across the street from the venue. And this hotel is right next door.”

“Oh.”

A minute passed as you attempted to piece it all together.

You could not remember any of this, but the news that Jungkook had taken care of most things was not calming. He must have really been going out of his mind.

You were curious about where he was, but you didn’t want to ask. Your paranoid mind made you think that any question about Jungkook that was not related to Rated Riot was unnecessary and would, therefore, be misunderstood. Your friends already seemed like they were resisting a few additional comments for the sake of your health.

“So,” Luna started after a quiet minute, “how come you fainted?"

You exhaled and tried to scratch your eyebrow, but the catheter tugged painfully at your skin, and you winced instead.

You dropped your hand back down. “I-I... I guess I overestimated myself.”

Luna pushed the IV stand closer to your bed so you could have more freedom with your limbs. You nodded gratefully.

“You’re going to have to slow down,” Luna said. “It’s no longer negotiable, I’m afraid. If you don’t listen to us, we will take you to a hospital.”

It was the plural pronoun that bothered you the most, but you forced yourself to swallow your discomfort at disrupting the daily routines of your friends.

“I’ll be alright soon,” you said. “And I promise this won’t happen again.”

“It had better not,” Maggie chimed in. “And what’s with this hatred of hospitals? You don’t like that they’re full of people who want to help you feel better?”

“I don’t hate them,” you said, which wasn’t entirely true. Your experiences in hospitals included your mum crying, and you’d rather not relive that—not so soon after your brother broke his leg. “I just don’t have time for them. I’m okay.”

Luna gave you a stern look. Even Maggie, who was usually quite calm when you said you were fine, was glowering a little.

“Fine,” you conceded. “I’ll endure this drip and then I'll be okay. Thank you for being here.”

Luna made a deliberate scene of fixing the bags on the metal stand—clearly intending to emphasise the seriousness of your condition—and then lowered herself back into her armchair.

“You’re welcome,” she said.

Smiling at both of your girls—to distract them from further discussing your health—you said, “I love you.”

“We love you, too,” Maggie said. “And, babe, just so you know, it’s not just us. There was—everyone was here. The concierge nearly fainted when he saw us all in the hallway.”

Your smile quickly fell. “What do you mean, everyone?”

“We took care of it, don’t worry,” Luna interjected, sensing your growing panic. “Maggie and I talked to Seokjin, Jimin, and Namjoon, who then spoke to the rest of the staff and escorted them out. And Jungkook took care of his band.”

The panic lingered. Your job was solving crises, not causing them. You did not like this.

“He took care of them?” you repeated, swallowing.

“Well, they were very worried,” Luna explained, glancing at Maggie for help. Maggie only nodded, indicating her agreement. “And, uh, they were very loud, too. He told them to go and texted them updates every ten minutes.”

“God.” You closed your eyes and carefully tried to prop yourself up into a half-sitting position. “What updates? I was asleep.”

“That’s what he’s been texting them,” Luna explained. “Every ten minutes, on the dot. And then Taehyung texted me, asking why I kicked his best friend out of your room—which is ridiculous because I did not kick him out. But you’re my best friend, so technically, I would have had the right to kick him out if you were uncomfortable.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose with your hand and shook your head, an involuntary smile creeping onto your face at your friend’s protectiveness. “I’m comfortable. Thank you.”

“Are you going to see him?” Maggie asked.

You looked up at her. “Jungkook?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “He’s right behind the door, you know. Glued to the wall in the hallway.”

Your gaze slid down her dark blue jacket and focused on the mirror on the wall behind her. “Oh.”

“The doctor said he would need to go to the hospital, too, by the way,” Luna said, earning a surprised look from you. “He said the bandages around his head looked very threatening.”

You pressed your lips together. You’d expected that, but you still felt a fleeting twinge of disappointment—you’d covered his wounds to the best of your ability. And the bandages were honestly not the worst part of this.

“The doctor hasn’t even seen what’s underneath,” you said.

“He has now, actually,” Maggie replied. “He went to the emergency room about an hour ago to have them changed.”

You were too taken aback to properly understand her. “Jungkook did?”

“Yeah,” Luna said, pulling her phone out. Your mind tuned out her next few sentences as you struggled to come to terms with the fact that Jungkook had gone to the emergency room on his own accord. “—and he called us from the hospital. Apparently, he pestered the nurses with questions about what else we could do to help you feel better. They told him to leave, but he wanted to hear from us—in case we thought you needed anything. I wouldn’t be surprised if he brought a heart monitor here, just in case.”

Maggie snickered—but caught the serious looks on the faces around her and covered it up with a fractured cough—while you groaned and rubbed your eyes. You wouldn’t have been surprised, either.

You exhaled. “Yeah—I-I’ll see him. If that’s okay with you?”

Both girls nodded and got up from their seats. Before they went, however, they convinced you to accept their help to complete the difficult task—as you pointed out while rolling your eyes—of walking ten steps to the bathroom, and then ten steps back to your bed. Clearly, they were taking the doctor’s orders very seriously.

“We’ll be right outside,” Luna said once you settled back in bed. “Call or text—”

“No,” you protested. “You can’t—you don’t need to stay here. You’ve already done so much.”

“We were just sitting in your room with you,” Maggie said. “It’s hardly anything. Don’t worry about us.”

“It’s not hardly anything,” you disagreed. “At least get something to eat.”

The two girls looked at each other. Maggie shrugged and then looked back at you, still doubtful. You nodded with more conviction.

“We’ll pick up some food for everyone and come back,” Luna finally decided. “Okay?”

You nodded again. “Okay. Thank you.”

As soon as the girls opened the door to your hotel room, you heard shuffling outside—as if someone had been leaning right up against the door and scrambled away before it opened.

“You may come in,” Luna told Jungkook with excessive dramatics as she and Maggie turned to wave at you again.

You gave them another nod and watched as Jungkook tentatively walked inside. He turned to close the door behind him and lingered, for an awkward moment, at the entrance.

His bandages were fresh and none of the scantily wrapped bruises were visible any longer. Perhaps they would heal in time for the concert.

Before you could express your hopes out loud, however, Jungkook took a shaky breath and approached you.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so fucking sorry, I don’t know what I would have done if—”

“W-why are you sorry?” you cut him off, disturbed by the absolute devastation in his voice.

He was right next to your bed now, barely able to inhale. “It’s—you—you fainted—and—it was because—I shouldn’t—”

It hit you, suddenly, why he was hyperventilating so much. And the shock of this realisation was so great that you could not react immediately, and he proceeded to stutter for another few moments.

“This—it has nothing—this isn’t about you,” you finally said, almost as coherent as he was.

Still, he persisted, “but I—you—I was—I should have—”

“I didn’t faint because of you, Jungkook,” you said more firmly. There were several reasons why he should have felt guilty, of course, but this was definitely not one of them.

He finally stopped speaking, although the rapid process of inhaling and exhaling—which caused his shoulders to hunch and straighten from the intensity of the motions—continued for another minute.

Then he gave you a long, uncertain look. You maintained eye contact and watched as his breathing gradually slowed. You had never seen him panic so much and so suddenly—he had seemed almost perfectly fine when he came in, but it took him all of two seconds to fall apart.

Slowly, he regained control of his breathing and looked you over once more.

“Okay,” he said, shifting his weight to his other leg. “I-I don’t know if that—if it makes me feel better, but—”

“Thank you,” you said.

Lost in his own thoughts, he craned his neck towards you. “Hm?”

“Luna and Maggie told me you’re the one who found me.”

Jungkook looked briefly embarrassed.

“I explicitly asked them not to tell,” he said.

You smiled. “I’m sure this was Force majeure, so don’t blame them. And they’re my best friends anyway.”

“Clearly.” He brought his hands down his face before admitting, “I just—I thought you wouldn’t want to see me.”

A part of you thought he was right to assume that. You shouldn’t want to see him.

But another part of you forced you to lower your gaze and twiddle your thumbs nervously as you linked your hands on your stomach.

“No, uh, see,” you began with a nervous chuckle. “That’s, uh—that’s almost the worst part of this whole thing. My plan, really, was to avoid you.”

Jungkook raised his eyebrows, then politely lowered them. He placed his hand on the back of the armchair and said, profoundly, “very mature.”

“You don’t get to judge,” you warned.

The corner of his lip quirked. “Just making an observation.”

“So, my plan was to avoid you,” you continued. “But we both know how that ended. And then I woke up here, sort of feeling like I was floating in a space station somewhere near Saturn, and you know what my first thought was?”

Jungkook thought he was floating in a space station somewhere near Saturn.

“Wh—um, what?” he asked.

“My first thought was if you were okay.”

You looked at him as you said that, and he thought he saw the rest of his life flash before his eyes—a life that, just a few days ago, he’d deemed meaningless.

Without any proper distractions, it was just him and his thoughts, and they were never good company. They hated him for losing you.

But then you fainted and now that you’ve regained consciousness, your first thought was if he was okay.

He didn’t trust his legs very much anymore.

“Can I sit?” he asked, a little breathless again.

You took a second to reply, and he interpreted it as a sign of hesitation. “You can.”

Suspicious, he asked, “will you try to leave if I sit?”

You gave him a questioning look and nudged your hand, causing the IV bags to wobble. “Does it look like I can move around with this?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “You might still try.”

You snorted and shook your head. “Just sit down, Jungkook.”

He sat down.

The two of you were a peculiar sight like this. If this were a role-playing video game, there would have been exclamation marks over your heads—and if you had been approached, the list of conversation starters the player could choose would have been, simply, endless.

There was so much you wanted to say and ask each other, but the strength of your resistance was absurdly impressive.

One thought, however, overwhelmed everything, and it was very simple: how little everything else mattered compared to your health.

Jungkook took a deep breath and looked at you, taking in your tired, but ceaselessly dreamlike features.

Slowly, he found himself calming down. As long as you were here, as long as you were okay, things would work out one way or another.

“I, um—your mum called, by the way,” Jungkook said. “I have your phone. It fell out of your jacket when I—when I found you.”

Right away, you felt a surge of panic. You and your mum had a deal. She knew you were busy, so she would text sometimes, but never call. Unless something had happened.

“My—she called me?” you repeated with so much concern that Jungkook noticed the drip stand shake a little from the force of your distress. “Did you answer?”

He felt his own hands return to their almost natural trembling. “Uh, well, as it happened—I did.”

“Why did she call? What happened?”

“Well, nothing,” he said. “She said she hadn’t heard from you in a while, and she was worried.”

Mother’s intuition, she had called it when she spoke to you. When you returned to your dorm after your hospital stay six years ago, she had called you because “for some reason” she couldn’t sleep for two nights in a row. She didn’t know you were ill, of course, but it touched you, this maternal feeling that transcended all logic.

It could have been a coincidence, you supposed. Lots of things were.

“What did you say?” you asked.

“I said you had a lot of things to take care of,” Jungkook replied. “But you’d call her when you had a free moment.”

You watched him as he spoke and noticed his eyes widen momentarily, clearly taken aback by what he’d just seen in your expression. You realised you hadn’t expected him to hide this from your mum, and your surprise must have shown.

Blinking, you turned away and gripped the edge of your duvet.

“Thank you,” you said.

“I also told her you’re very stressed,” he added quieter.

“Oh—well, that—you could have kept that to yourself,” you said, less enthusiastic about his thoughtfulness. “She’s going to freak out about it.”

“Let her,” he countered. “You’re her child. She’s worried about you. You have to let people worry about you when there’s a reason to.”

You had a different opinion, of course. But instead of arguing, you chose to find out what conclusions your mum had drawn from this brief exchange. She hadn’t heard from Jungkook directly in years, even though she knew you were working together.

“What did she—was she surprised to hear from you?” you asked.

Your question made Jungkook appear as if he was trying very hard to tap dance while sitting down. He bounced his legs, tapped his feet, and occasionally scratched something under his chin, above his nose, or on the back of his neck.

“Uh, well, we’re, um, you know,” he said. You were almost ready to assume that he was hiding something else. “You and me—w-we’re working together. She wasn’t that surprised.”

“Right, but I mean—”

“I told her not to worry too much, and that you’d love to hear from her,” he finished, skilfully diverting from the topic and speaking even louder so you wouldn’t have a chance to interject with another question. “She said she’d text you, and you should call her when you have a minute. Not right now, though. You’re resting now.”

Again, you tried, “I’m just—”

“She put Kai on the phone, too,” he added. “So, I talked to him for a second. He called you an idiot.”

That took a very unusual turn, you thought in surprise. Your mum hadn’t spoken to Jungkook in years, and now she wanted to put your brother on the phone, too—you were simply confused.

“He—why’d he say that?” you asked, presently more unnerved by the name-calling than your mother’s unexpected choices.

“For forgetting to call your mum, he said. And for working too much,” Jungkook replied. “Which is precisely what I warned you about in Amsterdam, so I honestly can’t believe this happened to you again. We asked you to take it easy, so at least listen to us now, and—”

It was hard to breathe in this still room, with the force of everyone’s concern weighing you down.

Slowly, you kicked one leg out from under the duvet. “I did take it easy.”

“Right,” he said, closing his eyes and mumbling, “you never fucking take it easy.”

You heaved yourself up to your feet, holding onto the IV stand for support. “I was—”

Jungkook looked up and jumped to his feet as soon as he realised what you were doing. “Where are you going? Sit down.”

“I’m fine. I’m just—”

He blocked your way, quickly ensuring that you did not have enough space to take another step.

“See, I told you you’d do this,” he groaned, his chest pressed against yours. “Just sit down.”

You tried not to stagger backwards—which was his intention, of course—and still stood your ground. “I just want to open the window, I’m—”

“Sit down.”

Huffing in angry resignation, you sat back down.

“Okay,” he said, stepping back from the bed to give you more space. “Now lie down.”

You rolled your eyes but settled back into a horizontal position, glaring at him all the while.

“Should I roll over, too?” you bit. “Give you a paw?”

“Not unless you want to.”

You bared your teeth. “Funny.”

“Just lie down, please,” he reiterated. “And just—just rest, okay? For a little while, at least. I’ll open the window.” He saw you open your mouth and added hurriedly, “I know you can do it yourself. But let me.”

Sighing, you surrendered to the warm confines of the duvet. “Okay. Thanks.”

He crossed the room and struggled with the curtains for a moment. He could tell you were watching him, and he felt irrationally nervous—he thought that if he did something wrong, you would try to get up again. Finally, he grabbed the handle of the window, twisted it and pulled. A moment or two later, a welcome breeze finally filled the stuffy room.

Relieved to be able to breathe something other than your discomfort, you watched Jungkook return to his armchair.

“You didn’t tell me if you’re okay,” you reminded him. “How’s your eye?”

He looked confused as he lifted his hand—as if to verify if the eye in question was still there—then paused and dropped it again.

“It’s working,” he said, sitting back down next to your bed.

“And the pain?”

He shrugged. “Bearable.”

“Good,” you said, slipping your hands under the covers and resting them on your stomach. “I’m glad you took out your eyebrow piercing before the whole thing with Sid, by the way. Otherwise, we might have had even more problems.”

Jungkook didn’t want that to be your shared problem—he was determined to carry out his plan, which he boldly referred to as “Getting My Shit Together”—but at the same time, he was glad that he didn’t cause you any additional distress. Honestly, he couldn’t have cared less about his piercings right now.

“I—yeah.” He rubbed his eyebrow absentmindedly. “I hadn’t planned it like that, but it worked out, I guess.”

“Did you get any rest?” you asked then.

The question felt misplaced, and his stomach sank at the sheer wrongness of it. You were always worried about others. And he always gave you reasons to worry.

Really, while he was happy—alright, ecstatic—that you thought of him, he should have been the one asking you this.

“How, uh—how do you mean?” he returned.

“After the flight,” you said.

He looked down at the beige carpet under his boots and shook his head. He couldn’t have slept even if he wanted to—not until he was sure you weren’t on your feet, insisting you were okay.

“I don’t need rest,” he said.

But as you looked at him, it was clear that rest was exactly what he needed. Beneath the imposing bandages, his eyes were bloodshot, and his skin was pale and waxy. He was still beautiful—Maggie would have made a joke about it—but in a way that made your heart ache if you looked at him too long.

“You should go,” you said. “Get some sleep.”

Jungkook gave you a look as if you had just confessed that you enjoyed beheading people in your spare time: incredulous and slightly offended.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said.

This was going to turn into a childish game, you knew it. But you tapped your thumbs together and still tried.

“What if I want to be alone?” you asked.

“Then I’ll call Luna and Maggie.”

Your arched eyebrows challenged his solution.

“When I said alone,” you clarified, “I didn’t mean not with you.”

For just a split second, he looked almost relieved to hear this. Then he bit his lip and brought a hand over his knee.

“If my presence is not the problem,” he said, “then I’m staying.”

“The problem,” you argued, “is that you’re going to end up in this bed, connected to an IV, if you don’t sleep.”

“Let’s cut to the chase,” he offered. “I’m not leaving you alone. In fact, I’m staying. Unless you explicitly tell me you can’t stand to look at me anymore.”

He gave you an opening to tease, and you enjoyed building up to it as you looked down and ran your tongue over your lips.

“And, uh, you’d leave then?” you asked—taunted, really.

“Begrudgingly,” he replied, as discontented as you were amused.

You nodded. “Alright.”

He raised his eyebrows, slightly dispirited. “You’re going to tell me to go?”

“No,” you said. “Stay.”

So he stayed.

And this moment in the hotel room, as the vitamin drip dribbled quietly into the intravenous tube, did not just feel bizarre. It felt a little like a parallel universe—like you’d lost consciousness in a world where you were very angry and very stressed, and had woken up in a world where only subtle echoes of all the fervent emotions you’d once felt existed.

In this world, all that you were feeling was eclipsed by what really mattered: the people who were in this room with you and had been waiting outside of it.

But you felt another particularly prominent sentiment, which was heightened even more by Jungkook’s relentless focus on you. You did not want to name it, however. To identify it was to give it power over you, and you liked to believe that you had your heartbeat under control right now.

“It’s like—this is just like back then again,” Jungkook said suddenly. “Isn’t it?”

You exhaled, returning to the jagged, uncertain moment.

“Yeah...” you said, stretching the vowels in a frantic attempt to fill the space that would soon turn into an awkward silence. “Thank you for not taking me to a hospital this time. This really isn’t so bad.”

“It is bad,” he disagreed right away. “But I didn’t want you to have another reason to feel stressed. I thought a hotel room would relax you more than a hospital room.”

“It would,” you said. “Thanks.”

He hung his head. “Yeah.”

Not the awkward silence, not the awkward silence, not the—

“Well,” you inhaled, “at least you won’t have to study for any finals this time, right?”

You expected him to smile back at the gentle jab about him failing his exam the last time you were in the hospital. But when Jungkook looked up, he looked crestfallen somehow—almost like he was disappointed that he did not have to study for finals this time.

“Yeah, um, actually—I-I didn’t fail my exam because I didn’t study for it,” he said in a slow, contemplative tone. He wasn’t sure if he could ever admit this to you, but he figured he didn’t have much left to lose. He’d already told you so much. He might as well tell you all the rest. “I failed because your friend texted me about twenty minutes before my final, saying that you left your exam looking very disoriented. She asked if I could check on you.”

Horror descended on your face as you realised what he meant.

“You went to look for me,” you surmised painfully, “and didn’t show up to take your final.”

He nodded and you shook your head with a newfound ferocity.

“Jungkook,” you said, remembering how you reacted when he first told you he had failed—how you immediately blamed his recklessness and his friends. How you brought up all of his mistakes and thought this was another one of them.

“You passed out,” he said. “I don’t regret it.”

“I yelled at you so much!” you continued, lost in your own guilt. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

“You helped me study, too,” he defended, feeling almost uncomfortable. He’d never felt your reaction was inappropriate, even under the circumstances. He had failed the exam, after all—like he’d failed several others before.

You shook your head again. “Yeah, but—”

“It’s fine,” he cut you off.

“It’s not fine!” you refuted immediately. “It was my fault you failed.”

“It wasn’t your—”

“I thought it was your friends again,” you said. “I thought they distracted you, and you didn’t study.”

There it was—this vast precipice between what you thought had happened and what had actually happened. Now that years have passed, Jungkook didn’t even know where to start.

The fact was this: you believed that every time he failed you, it was his friends’ fault—and that belief comforted him. It was so appropriate, so fitting.

And sometimes it was true, but even when it wasn’t—when it was just him, not being good enough—your assumption that it was Sid’s fault didn’t paint Jungkook as desperate; merely reckless. Not hopeless, only a little dumb. He preferred it this way.

But now he took a deep breath.

“My friends did distract me from a lot of things,” he said. “But the truth is, sometimes… I tried too hard, and I didn’t want you to know about it. I couldn’t stand the thought of trying to do something for you and then—just completely fucking everything up and letting you down. Sometimes blaming my friends was a convenient excuse.”

You frowned. “What—what are you talking about?”

“Well,” he wiped his palms on his black cargo pants and stretched out his legs, “remember when we were planning to go on holiday together and I fucked up?”

Your frown deepened.

“Hawaii?” you asked. “When you bought the tickets home for the same day we were flying there?”

“Uh…” He hadn’t realised he’d messed up several times. “No. Different holiday. When I missed the train we were supposed to take to the beach? For our summer break?”

“Oh.” You nodded. “I remember. But I saw Sid’s Instagram videos with you, drinking at his garage. I know you were—”

“Those were old videos. And he posted them at a very bad time, which, honestly,” he chuckled sadly, “it’s nothing new for Sid. He seized every opportunity to make me miserable, and I was—I relied on that sometimes. I think he wanted to start an argument between us on the train, that’s why he posted those videos. The truth is, though, I didn’t even see him that day. I missed the train because I wanted to rent out a car and surprise you.”

The quiet confusion on your face prompted him to keep going.

“I didn’t want just any car,” he explained. “I wanted the same Cadillac convertible I’d rented out for our first anniversary.”

You had fond memories of the convertible. Not of the actual drive, which was, honestly, quite painful—there were bugs and unruly strands of your hair everywhere—but of the laughter you’d shared inside.

“It was summer, finally warm enough outside,” Jungkook recalled. “I thought it would be a nice way to relax after studying. I even, uh—I made decorations and everything. Glittery, silver letters that said, ‘just passed our finals’. It’s a play on ‘just married’, you know? It’s a—a joke.”

Eager to understand where this was going, you remained frozen on the bed, and Jungkook felt himself waver slightly. He was glad you weren’t laughing—he dreaded you’d laugh or find any of this as embarrassing as he did—but he slid his hands under his thighs anyway, as if to warm them.

“The thing is, though,” he continued. “I didn’t take my passport with me. Because you don’t need a passport when you’re taking the fucking train, but you can’t rent a car without one, and those fucking assholes at the rental shop—anyway. I went back to my dorm to pick it up, and by the time I got back, the rental shop had closed for lunch. And I missed the train.”

Your heartbeat was steady—fast, absolutely speeding, but steady nonetheless. It hadn’t slowed since he started speaking.

Your expression, however, was almost painfully concentrated. When he looked at you, it seemed as if you were listening to a séance where a spirit was recounting their death.

You cleared your throat and tried to speak. “I thought—”

“You thought I forgot about our trip and went out with Sid,” Jungkook finished for you.

You didn’t have to confirm it, he knew. The hope that this was what you would assume was his safety blanket—this way, he didn’t have to face the fact that he could never do anything right for you, not even when he tried so hard to.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked.

You weren’t angry at him for this because he’d made it to the beach later that night, after all. He had taken the last train and barged into your cabin just after midnight. You had nearly knocked him out with a bedside lamp, assuming it was an intruder.

But you didn’t understand the point of allowing you to believe—for years—that it was Sid’s fault. Why didn’t he defend himself?

“Because—did you not hear me describe the letters I’d cut out from glittery paper?” Jungkook asked, his voice high-pitched in irritation at himself. “It’s embarrassing. I should have just met you at the train station like I said I would.”

“Well, why didn’t you?” you questioned. “Why put all this effort?”

“Because I love you,” he replied. You tugged on the IV tube again as you squirmed and unconsciously flexed your arm. “And because I saw your friends get picked up by their boyfriends in their cars. I saw those boyfriends bring them massive bouquets of roses. I saw all the grand fucking gestures that I could never do for you, because I didn’t have enough—I wasn’t—it was mortifying. I thought that you deserved the world, and all I could give you was… some fucking wildflowers before our dates.”

The corners of your lips twitched as you tried to speak, “it’s—I loved your wildflowers, though. And I never cared about anything else.”

“I know,” he said. “But I did.”

You looked down at the white duvet. “You and your gestures.”

Jungkook hummed, but did not add anything else. He was thinking—and regretting his silences. You were thinking, too—and wondering if this was the only time he allowed you to assume that his friends were at fault when they weren’t.

The room around you stilled, adapting to the atmosphere of the conversation. Even your drip quieted.

But then someone knocked on the door of the hotel room, and you and Jungkook almost lit up with relief.

“It’s us!” Luna’s voice called out just as Jungkook stood up to check who it was.

Your friends had returned with paper boxes of Thai food—enough to feed at least five people, from what you could see from your bed—and waved at you from the doorway.

A conversation followed—one that you couldn’t quite hear, except for irrelevant snippets, such as “are you sure?” and “well, okay”—and then Jungkook stepped away from the door, allowing the two girls to address you.

“Apparently, we’ll be heading back to the bus for a quick nap,” Luna said. Jungkook gave her a disapproving look that she promptly ignored. “Is that okay with you? Jungkook will stay.”

Your reflexive response was, of course, to try to dismiss their responsibility. “He doesn’t—neither of you have to stay—”

“Someone is staying,” Jungkook stated, his voice strict, final. “And I would like to be the one to do that.”

You weren’t protesting against him specifically, but as you prepared to reply, you realised it might seem that way. Your hesitant silence was a chance for Jungkook to nod at the two girls again. They nodded back, but then glanced back at you.

“Our phones are on,” Maggie said, lifting her device up for you to see. “So, you can still call or text us at any point, and we’ll rush over here right away.”

Jungkook raised his eyebrows. “That certainly does not make it sound like I’m about to torture her.”

You bit back a smile on your bed while Luna said simply, “just a precaution.”

“I get it,” he said. “And I’ll personally call you if I say or do anything that’s over the line.”

Neither Luna, nor Maggie had a response to that, and you looked up to meet three pairs of expectant eyes.

“I—it’s okay,” you said to the girls. “You—yes, get some rest. We’ll be fine here. Thank you.”

“Okay. We’ll be back!” Luna promised, shooting a warning look at Jungkook, while Maggie waved her phone and called out at you, “text us!”

You wanted to give them a small wave, but the thick duvet and the persistent catheter digging into your arm made it difficult to pull your hands out, so all you managed to do was just shuffle around under the covers and nod at them.

The girls left the take-out boxes inside, waved at you again, and walked away.

Jungkook closed the door and slowly returned to his seat, his shoulders hunched, hands in his pockets, and steps unsteady. He looked lost and frightened.

He didn’t want you to misunderstand his intentions. He didn’t want to stay here just to have you to himself, to apologise and to beg for your forgiveness. He wanted to stay because he couldn’t breathe when he didn’t know if you were okay.

As his hesitation hung in the air, memories of your previous hospital stay returned to you again, and you closed your eyes to shake them off.

“You should eat something,” you said.

Jungkook refused.

“When was the last time you ate anything?” you prodded.

Again, he mumbled and hummed under his breath, evading the question and sitting very still—as if he was expecting something. As if something was coming.

And you realised that something was coming. But you had to speak to bring that something here.

“So, then—w-was there anything else?” you finally asked.

Jungkook knew you were referring to the moment he’d just revealed, this deliberate misunderstanding. It was all he could think about. This was the something.

“There was,” he said with a sigh. “But I don’t—”

“Tell me about it.”

He had a lump in his throat that he couldn’t swallow—but not due to his lack of trying—and he suddenly felt like he was standing in front of a jury of his peers.

He didn’t want you to keep thinking that he hadn’t made an effort for you when he had, only it never turned out well. But he was also nervous about you learning how hard—and how impossibly much—he tried. He thought it would only highlight his shortcomings—and there were many of them.

He’d convinced himself that if you didn’t know about them, then he wasn’t letting you down. It was challenging to break out of this conviction now.

“Well—t-that Valentine’s Day,” he stammered. “Our second one—do you remember?”

You remembered right away. Despite your distaste for the commercialisation of the holiday, it still stung that Jungkook had avoided you the whole day. And for several days after that, too—although you’d assumed that to be deliberate. He’d missed Valentine’s Day and didn’t want to see you out of guilt.

“Sure,” you said.

“Well, that wasn’t Sid’s fault, either,” he said. “I know you thought we went on a drinking binge that weekend because Sid happened to conveniently go off the grid right at that time. He had a habit of—”

“But you weren’t with him?” you interjected, impatient.

“No. He was—it was nearly a Weekend at Bernie’s situation. There was some event happening at Jude’s summer house that weekend,” Jungkook said, and you tried to control yourself before you made mocking comments about the idea that people had enough money to own seasonal houses. “And Jude got so high that Sid and some of Jude’s cousins had to pretend he was just not feeling his best whenever his parents asked about him. They mimicked his voice through the door and everything.”

“So, where were you then?”

“I was—well, I—I spent that whole day—ah, no,” he stopped abruptly and brought his palms over his face, lacing his fingers over his mouth as he changed his mind. He couldn’t do this. It was awful. He was such a mess. “You know what? Maybe it’s better if you keep thinking I was at that summer house with them.”

“No,” you opposed in frustration, lunging forward to sit up. You did not listen to him drone on about Sid and Jude just to have him change his mind. “Now you have to tell me.”

Jungkook raised his head when you moved—his concern for you overwhelmed his chagrin.

“Okay, okay, don’t—lie down,” he asked, gesturing at the pillow.

You complied to get him to keep going. He took a breath.

“Just so you know,” he cautioned, “this might finally ruin my bad boy reputation.”

“You never had one.”

He clicked his tongue against his lower teeth. “Okay, ouch.”

You grinned. “Tell me. What really happened?”

He hesitated for another second, bouncing his knee up and down, up and down, and then stilling completely.

“Well, for one thing,” he began finally, “I was going to make dinner. That didn’t go well, because the communal kitchens were—well, you know. But that’s fine, I didn’t worry too much because there’s always take-out.”

You nodded. The communal kitchens in both of your dormitories were typically crowded with people or they smelled so terrible from a failed cooking experiment that it was simply wiser not to set foot in there.

“There was a great pizza place literally two blocks from your dorm,” you pointed out.

“Yeah, exactly.” He nodded in agreement. “But, um, we’d already gone out for a fancy dinner on Valentine’s Day the year before, so I wanted this year to be more… special. I don’t know. Or different, at least. So, I thought I’d cook and make you a slideshow. And—okay, you’ll have to stop smiling if you want me to continue.”

You hadn’t realised you were smiling. You pursed your lips and pulled them to each side to compose yourself.

“Sorry,” you said. “Continue.”

“Right,” he said. “So I made a PowerPoint. Added all of our pictures that I could find in my camera roll, wrote some funny captions. There were going to be at least 200 slides, I’m pretty sure you would have fallen asleep in the middle. I even recorded an acoustic Sleep Token cover to use as background music.”

You told yourself you’d stay quiet, but your disbelief was uncontrollable. “You didn’t!”

“I did,” he said, smiling, but trying not to, for the sake of the story. “It’s gone, though. I erased all traces of that night.”

“Why? What happened?”

“Well, I, uh—I didn’t want just to play you the slides on my laptop,” he said, scratching nervously at his chest over his dark grey hoodie. “I wanted something more.”

You nodded. “Of course.”

He looked away instead of acknowledging your comment.

“Then I remembered something I saw on Instagram that could have been cool. It was one of those aesthetic accounts. They had a picture of this dark, cosy room with a projector screening a film right on this white wall,” he said. “So, I thought, well, shit! I have a white wall behind my wardrobe. And the science lab downstairs has a projector.”

You didn’t like this as you stiffened on the bed, mumbling a dreading, “dear God.”

“Yeah.” He paused to lick his lips. “But it’s probably not what you think. I got the fucking projector.”

He said that with so much grandeur that you couldn’t help but raise your eyebrows—questioning if this was really something to be proud of.

He recapped the story anyway, “I took my roommate’s wrench, and it really didn’t take more than fifteen minutes to open the lab door, unscrew the projector, and bring it back up to my room.”

You shut your eyes and scrunched your nose at the step-by-step description. You wondered if there was a statute of limitations here, and if you would have been considered an accomplice now that you knew about this.

“They have security cameras, though,” you said, glancing at him again. “Don’t they?”

“They do,” Jungkook confirmed. He had a sardonic smile on his face. “Why do you think I was suspended for a month after Valentine’s Day?”

You lost him there. “Wait—they knew you stole the projector?”

“Borrowed,” he corrected. “I returned it two days later. But, yeah, uh—Minjun actually pulled some strings here. His dad went to university with the dean, so he vouched for me. Told him it was all a misunderstanding, and that it would never happen again.”

You looked away, frantically sifting through memories of the month after that particular Valentine’s Day. You remembered not seeing Jungkook for a few days after it, but you saw him fairly regularly later on. He would hang out in your dorm while you had classes, claiming not to have anything better to do.

It took you a full minute to properly recall the explanation he’d given about his suspension.

“Oh,” you said. “Minjun told me that you got suspended because you were caught completely wasted, spray-painting one of the campus buildings.”

Jungkook nodded, his eyes cast low.

“To be fair, I did spray-paint that one,” he admitted. “And I was probably wasted when I did it. But I wasn’t caught.”

You weren’t sure if “spray-painting” was a lesser offence than “stealing a projector from a laboratory” in your eyes, but you didn’t want to question Minjun’s decision now.

“Okay,” you said. “So what happened after you stole the projector?”

“Well, I took the borrowed projector up to my room and set it up,” he replied. “Everything looked great. I was going to give you the best Valentine’s Day dinner this world has ever fucking seen.”

He smacked his palms against his thighs as he spoke, showing off his determination, and you found yourself resisting a smile again. Jungkook had a certain way of telling stories—his changing smiles and small chuckles, his hand gestures and even his tone of voice always made it feel more vivid.

“But, um, I had to move the wardrobe to get a bare wall,” he continued. “And, uh, what I did not foresee was that, earlier that very same day, my roommate’s electric kettle had broken. He went out, purchased a new one. And he put the old one on top of the wardrobe to save space.” Jungkook gave you a moment to think back on this roommate. “You remember the guy, he hoarded everything, all kinds of fucking cables and wires, and—anyway. So, I started to push the wardrobe, and the fucking kettle—it fell and hit me right on the top of my head.”

A surprised gasp left your lips—a stark contrast to the easy, laid-back way he had just spoken.

Jungkook nodded in response to your reaction. “Yeah. My vision sort of darkened and I thought I heard something crack—I, uh, I did think it was my skull, not going to lie.”

He chuckled again—to minimise the impact of his words once more—but you sat up despite his inevitable protests.

“Jungkook!” you scolded. “And you didn’t tell me?!”

“Well, my skull obviously didn’t really crack.”

“I’m not so sure that it didn’t.”

“Anyway,” he stressed. “There wasn’t any blood or anything, so after a few minutes of sitting on the floor, I figured I was good to go. Then I stood up, and, uh—I don’t think you need a visual of what happened then.”

You closed your eyes.

Really, no. You did not need a visual.

About a year ago, at one of the smaller Rated Riot concerts—at a club that seemed harmless at first glance—Jungkook had climbed over to a wooden ceiling beam and swung his arms over it to brachiate across the narrow joist. The beam turned out to be heavily lacquered, and his sweaty palms slid right off, forcing him to crash onto the table below.

He gave himself a concussion, sprained his shoulder, broke $200 worth of bottles and glasses, and frightened the living hell out of the middle-aged couple who were sitting at the table that he’d landed on.

“Yeah,” you said in your quiet hotel room. “I can imagine.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook breathed out. He recalled this exact same moment—and he knew that, once again, the cause of his injury was his own overexertion. “So, I spent the whole night in my dorm room, on the floor—because I couldn’t crawl to my bed—hoping that I wouldn’t die.”

“And it didn’t occur to you to call me?” you asked—not gently. “Or the fucking ambulance, actually?”

“No,” he replied, unfazed by your disapproving tone. “Not if it meant having to explain what I was doing before all of that happened.”

“You’re crazy,” you said, shaking your head. “You clearly got a concussion, and you didn’t do anything about it.”

“To be fair,” he said, “it’s not that I was embarrassed about it or anything. I was just—horrified that I’d let you down. It was Valentine’s Day. I wanted to give you a slideshow and a romantic fucking dinner. Not—not lie on the floor of my room, half passed out.”

You fought against a pensive sadness. It seemed unfair that this night had not gone the way he’d planned.

“W-well, what did your roommate say when he returned?” you asked instead.

Jungkook poked his cheek with his tongue. “He wasn’t very happy that I broke his old kettle.”

“You broke his—Jesus Christ.” Your hands were on your face as you fell back and buried your head into the pillows. “So, he just left you there on the floor?”

“I assume he thought I was drunk.”

“Fucking—what a—and he was valedictorian, wasn’t he? What a fucking moron,” you groaned. “I knew I should have kicked his ass while I had the chance. I never liked him.”

Jungkook felt a warm rush of comfort to hear how agitated you were getting on his behalf.

“Yeah, he didn’t like me very much, either,” he said. “But that’s um—that’s the story. I missed Valentine’s Day, almost died, and got suspended. I couldn’t possibly tell you what happened.”

“No, how could you?” you deadpanned. “Your reputation was at stake.”

He smiled. “Precisely.”

Even though you joked about this, and he was grateful that you did, both of you knew that this was not entirely about upholding some specific “bad boy” image.

You’d already witnessed this side of him – the side that felt anxious and dreaded the thought of not being good enough. Of not meeting expectations. Of letting others down.

In fact, now that you thought about it, your first proper conversation during this tour had been about this very issue.

“The time I was arrested,” Jungkook said, his shaky voice interrupting your thoughts, “that was—it might have been another one of those times.”

“What?” you asked, perplexed again. “How—I was at the police station with you—the officers—”

“I don’t remember a lot of details,” he interrupted. “So, I’m—I’m not really sure. But, uh, apparently, that night we didn’t just spray-paint a building. Or spit at the officers, allegedly, while we ran from them. The police assumed Minjun and I were the “drunk and disorderly” call that they received an hour before they found us.”

Your memories of that night were hazy, too—mostly because you refused to go over the details in your mind. All you could remember was Jungkook calling you from the precinct and asking—in the most resigned voice you’ve ever heard—if you could come pick him up. The story that you were given when you arrived at the police station only came back to your memory in fragments: property damage. Assault of police officers. Resisting arrest.

“You weren’t?” you asked.

“No,” Jungkook said. “We had some drinks at a bar outside of town, and Sid started harassing some bikers across the street. Someone called the police. Jude said he even punched someone there, I don’t know. Minjun and I were already back in the city at that time. I asked him to come with me to keep watch. I wanted to spray-paint these song lyrics for you—”

Your head jerked as your surprise prevented you from shaking it properly. “Wait—you—what? What lyrics?”

“It’s—well, you know what lyrics,” he replied, timid suddenly. “There was only one song we listened to all the time.”

You remembered.

It’s you and me ‘til the end of time.

You swallowed, breathless, and almost completely weightless as you clutched the duvet tighter in an attempt to ground yourself.

“The building I chose was downtown,” Jungkook continued. “Right across the street from the park where we had our first—well, our first date. I wanted that place to have something—something that we both loved. To commemorate all that we had, I don’t know. I haven’t been a very good boyfriend to you at the time, and I wanted to redeem that.”

The unexpected tightness in your stomach worried you for a second, but the sedative must not have fully worn off yet, because you took a deep breath and felt your body wind down a little. The room continued to blur behind Jungkook, but you suspected that your condition or medication had little to do with that.

“And, uh,” you tried to ask, “the police found you there?”

Jungkook nodded.

“I think Sid guided them to us,” he said. “It never made sense to me why the police would even go there. No one patrolled those streets, what was the point? Not to mention, it was dark, we were dressed in black, and—honestly, it wasn’t our first time with graffiti. But what happened was, I got a text from Sid, saying that someone at the bar had called the cops on him. And not five minutes later, he and Jude both showed up downtown, and we heard sirens.”

“So, what did you do?” you asked—uncertain, suddenly, if you’d actually asked him this before. You had talked to one police officer that night and had accepted everything he told you as the truth.

“Well, Minjun and I ran, of course,” Jungkook said.

“And the other two?”

“I can’t remember the exact sequence of—I was—I was drunk,” he said, giving you an apologetic look. He wanted to share the whole story with you, but he wasn’t sure if he knew it himself. “I remember Sid and Jude shouting at us that they would hold the cops back while we ran—and I didn’t even—we didn’t even think that there was anything weird about that. Minjun and I just ran.”

You felt your memories frantically rearrange themselves after every word that he said. Your head had turned into a disorderly, confused mess.

“The, um—the spitting, then?” you asked.

“That had to be Sid and Jude,” Jungkook speculated. “But I guess I might have done that, too. I, uh—I want you to have the full story, so I won’t deny things that I can’t even remember. I’m thinking about it now, and I don’t know which moments were really Minjun and me, and which were actually Sid and Jude. We were all very drunk, and nobody at the police station believed a word we were saying anyway.”

You nodded, urging him to continue, and he did—grateful and a little scared that you were listening to him so intently.

“Minjun and I got a good head start,” he spoke. “I don’t know what Sid and Jude meant by saying they’d hold the police back, because three officers still chased after us. But they were always at least five metres behind—I could tell from the distant sound of their shoes. I remember feeling so disconnected from my feet as I ran, I could sense I was going to trip. I don’t—honestly, I’m not saying this to defend myself—but I don’t know how I would have managed to look at the cops over my shoulder, spit at them from five metres away, and keep running without breaking my neck or falling over.”

“Hmm—yeah. I don’t know, either,” you said, turning away from him. You understood that it was important for him to clear his conscience, especially if he had been held accountable for something he didn’t even do, but you had other questions. “I’m confused about something else, though. If you and Minjun were being chased while Sid and Jude stayed back, why weren’t they brought into the station?”

All Jungkook did was raise his head and give you a look.

“Right,” you realised. “Of course. Money.”

He looked back down and nodded.

Exhaling, you studied the ceiling tiles for a few seconds before admitting, “I’ve always had a feeling that Sid had set you up.”

“Yeah,” he replied with surprising calmness. “I think so, too.”

You ran your fingers over your hair and pulled a strand from the back of your head to toy with it as you tried to think.

In every conversation that you’ve had about Sid using Jungkook as a scapegoat, Jungkook had either insisted that you were misunderstanding, or he simply fell silent (to avoid arguments, you assumed, and not necessarily to indicate his agreement with you).

This felt very new and particularly unusual. He wasn’t feeding into your dislike for his friends. He was doing something else now, but you were hesitant to draw conclusions about what it might be.

He had claimed he was done with Sid right after their fight, but after enduring his insufferable friends for years, you weren’t ready to believe that you wouldn’t have to see Sid’s nauseating mug again.

“But, anyway,” Jungkook said after a quiet minute. “Minjun and I apologised. Minjun paid bail. We signed something—I don’t even know what that was. And I went home with you. That’s the, um—the whole story as I remember it.”

You simmered in your cluttered mind for a moment longer, attempting to form a thought that you could voice. But all you could manage was a question. “Why didn’t you talk to me?”

“Would it have made a difference?” he asked. “I was still caught. You had to come and pick me up.”

“At least I—it would have—okay. I don’t know,” you finished lamely. This was a ‘what if’ that you didn’t have the strength to consider.

He hadn’t lied to you, though, you realised—and you weren’t sure how that made you feel. He allowed you to make assumptions that his friends were to blame, and he went along with it. That wasn’t worse than outright lying to you, but it wasn’t much better, either—it still put an unnecessary strain on your relationship.

Logically then, knowing the whole truth about what was happening with him might have made a significant difference. He had good intentions—yet he did not use them to defend himself.

You felt a little sorry that he only told you now, when you couldn’t go back and see what would have happened if you’d known about this all along.

But you realised you did not feel angry. You couldn’t find a specific point in his revelations that you could point at and say, “this is the one. This will be the reason why I can’t stand to look at you anymore.”

You couldn’t say that his choice to be silent made sense, but you knew him. And you understood why he made that choice. The way you saw it, this was partially his friends’ fault anyway.

All on his own, Jungkook wouldn’t have felt this uncertain, this insecure to admit to you that he loved you and that he wanted to show that to you in unorthodox ways—a lot of which didn’t work out.

“So, you just…” you spoke up again. “You were okay with me assuming that you were out with friends every night? That you chose them over us repeatedly?”

Jungkook sighed. If there was anything he’d learned over the past few days, it was that communication was not his strong suit. But now he’d reached a point of no return. He had to talk.

“Honestly, I thought it was a better alternative,” he said. “I thought I was a miserable try-hard. And I realised after our conversation in Amsterdam that, well... this is part of the reason why I didn't—why I assumed that you broke up with me because you didn’t love me anymore. And not because I kept fucking up.”

Your breaths were shallow as you listened to him.

“I think that it turned against me, this unnecessary secrecy,” Jungkook continued. “I wanted to be the best for you, and when I couldn’t be, Sid became a great excuse. But in my head—for me, he didn’t seem to have that big of a presence in our relationship. But of course, after I blamed my own mistakes on Sid, too, they built up. And, in the end, I think what happened was that…”

He faltered and you finished his sentence for him, “I started to see that all the reasons why you fucked up were Sid. Sid. Sid. Sid.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “I made you think that if I was given a choice, I’d choose my friends over you. Which I wouldn’t! But, um—I had a very poor way of showing that. Have, actually. Still do. I’m sorry.”

“Hmm.” You turned away. “Do you—you know what else I think this is?”

He looked at you. “What?”

“Sid’s influence,” you said. “You were so scared that he would think you’re hopeless or pathetic that you couldn’t even talk about the things that you did—the things that you wanted to do for me. You thought you were a ‘try-hard’ because your friends convinced you that you were.”

Jungkook felt stunned and a little nauseous.

He didn’t know if this was something he’d implied in his endless attempts to apologise for the bet, but you articulated everything he had struggled to convey.

He was trying to prove to Sid that he wasn’t pathetic—and he was doing it long before Sid suggested the bet. He was doing it every time he went out with his friends. He was doing it every time he allowed you to blame these friends after he missed your dates—just so he wouldn’t have to admit how much he tried to make these dates special, and how miserably he’d failed at that.

Eventually, he began to accept that he was truly pitiful for being so stubbornly in love with you. He hated their pity. He wanted to change it. Make it not so.

But the aftermath of the bet made him realise that all he really did, was prove that he was pathetic—he wanted to get you back in any desperate way possible.

He was okay with that now.

He was okay with being so in love with you that he couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t focus on anything else. Couldn’t stay where he was, repeating the same mistakes, going round and round, because he needed to grow. Needed to become someone who deserved you.

He was okay with it because being pitiful meant being in love with you, and he would never try to fight against that.

And you knew all these things about him. You knew everything.

He didn’t really understand how the world worked and he didn’t know if destiny played favourites. But he remembered writing a line in one of Rated Riot’s earlier songs—you weren't made for me, that much is true / but I was made for you—and he was once again confronted with the weight of this realisation.

He loved you. He’s always been yours so completely and wholeheartedly that you read him without looking at him.

He liked to think he knew you well—but that was extremely presumptuous of him. You were a universe within a universe. Really, it was you who knew him in ways he didn’t know himself.

“I—you’re right,” he said, running his tongue over his chapped lips. “I shouldn’t have given a fuck about what they thought, but I did. And I don’t—I, um—I don’t want this to seem like I am an angel for telling you about all that. No, I fucked up. Many times. We went binge-drinking, drag-racing, we skipped classes, failed tests, spray-painted buildings—”

“Stole projectors,” you interjected.

“—stole projectors,” he repeated reluctantly. “It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows, while I only pretended to fuck up. No. I took you for granted many times, I know I did. And I’m—I’ll always be sorry about that. But I’m—I’ve kicked him out. Sid. I’m done. Truly done this time. And I don’t even care if Jude stays.”

The way his voice broke off at the last sentence sounded like he cared a little, but you recognised the determination in his eyes when you looked at him. He’d made a decision.

“And Minjun?” you asked.

Jungkook inhaled. “Minjun… said he’d stay.”

“Good,” you said.

“Good—yeah?” he asked, evidently surprised. “You think so?”

Minjun had constantly looked like a kicked puppy when you were in the room. Now that you understood why, you thought you liked him a little more for it.

“Yeah,” you said. “I think he’s the only one of your friends worth keeping.”

“I’m starting to see that, too,” he admitted. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”

You looked down. With half of the vitamin drip gone now, you felt your body start to return to you—and, automatically, the surreal haze inside this hotel room began to clear. You were no longer floating somewhere on the ceiling and only pretending that you were perfectly fine.

You were coming back to yourself. And the return was rugged and painful.

 “You, um—you keep apologising to me like—like you’re obligated to respond to me,” you said. Jungkook didn’t know if you realised it, but your voice changed when you spoke to him as his manager and not as someone he’d known and loved for over seven years. “I’m your manager, but these things—you can—I shouldn’t tell you how to live your life. That’s not my—”

“I want it to be, though,” he cut you off with a sudden boldness that he hadn’t realised he still had in him. “I-I mean, I don’t want you to worry about me like that ever again, but I—I want you to think about me. Sometimes, you’re the only person who truly does.”

You shook your head—not to rid yourself of the responsibility, but to remind him, yet again, that he had people who wanted what was best for him.

And, honestly, he knew he did. He just wanted you.

“You have your grandma,” you said.

“Yeah, of course,” he said, nodding distractedly. “But, um, you know.”

“And you’re loved by thousands,” you continued. “They all want you to stay safe.”

He smiled—appreciative but oddly apologetic.

“I’m grateful for that,” he said. “It’s just that—I want you to be the one who wants that for me. I’ve only ever loved you, I’ve never—never been in a relationship with anyone who wasn’t you. And I don’t want to be, so the next thing that you say better not be about me finding someone else, because—”

“You have been in other relationships, though,” you said despite his warning. You didn't know if this was really true, but you ploughed ahead anyway—just to say something. “I don’t know how long or short, but Sid always bragged about your double dates whenever he called me to pick you up, so—”

“The double dates,” Jungkook said, “meant that Sid was on a date with two girls at the same time. And I was there for decoration.”

You scoffed. “I hardly imagine that to be possible, considering Sid looks like a sewer rat on a good day.”

Jungkook wanted to argue, but he was too amused by this image.

“And, um—what do I look like?” he asked.

You blinked, taken aback by the question, then quickly turned away to gaze out the window instead. “You look… you know what you look like.”

“No,” he said, fully grinning now. “Now that you mention it, I realise I actually have no idea what I look like.”

“There’s a mirror on the wall right behind you.”

“It’s like I’m blind, I don’t know what’s—”

“You’re ridiculous,” you groaned, your face warm. “You look nice. Move on.”

“Oh! That’s high praise coming from you.” He made an effort to bow. “Thank you.”

“Fuck off,” you retorted because you couldn’t smack him on the shoulder. Instead, you motioned with your hand, urging him to keep going. “Sid couldn’t get a date with a personality worse than his looks. Not if you were there.”

“I’m sure the expensive restaurant worked in his favour,” Jungkook remarked.

You threw your head back, realising the significance of money yet again. “Ah.”

“In any case, I don’t care,” he said. He cleared his throat and leaned back in his seat. “I never wanted to be with anyone who wasn’t you anyway. Which—as you’ll be happy to point out—sounds silly because when Sid was in a good mood, he was very dedicated to making sure neither of us left the club alone.”

You shrugged one of your shoulders, trying to come off as casual. “Well, since you brought it up.”

“Yeah, well.” He sighed, not running away from this, because, frankly, there was nowhere to run. “And you’re, uh—you’re my manager. You know what I’ve been doing after hours anyway.”

“Hmm.”

You didn’t have a better response, because there was something that Luna had said to you the other day that would not leave your mind alone.

He had the option to keep the bet a secret from you.

This evening had been filled with these options.

It would have been easy not to mention his miserable attempts at grand gestures or the people who were there after you. But he was bringing up everything—every little detail from your relationship and after it—and you sat expressionless on the bed, not knowing what to make of any of it.

“I meant what I said, though,” Jungkook said, leaning forward again. He felt restless; as if he could jump out of his skin if he tried hard enough. “You’re the only meaningful relationship I’ve had. It wasn’t fair for me to pretend to be interested in a second date with someone else, when I constantly caught myself thinking about if I’d ever see you again. Or when I’d see you again, after we started to work together.”

Your eyes were focused on the sheets of the bet, but he still didn’t dare to look at you.

“I didn’t want to believe that I could still be in love with you after all this time,” he said. “But—well, the evidence is against me.”

“W-why’d you go with Sid then?” you asked—quickly. Before he said something else that you didn’t know how to respond to. “Clubbing and on these dates?”

He clenched his jaw. “Well, you said it. I was trying to prove to him that I wasn’t pathetic. That I wasn’t in love with you anymore.”

“But why did you care so much about what he thought?” you pushed, and there was a hint of hurt in your voice. Jungkook felt his heart leap over several beats as it pounded against his ribs. “Why did his opinion matter to you more than mine?”

He exhaled so deeply that it was almost a miracle his lungs hadn’t collapsed. His insides were burning with regret. With an urge to turn back time. An urge to make things right.

“Because I was—I was a fucking idiot. For years before I met you, I thought Sid had everything I wanted,” he said—which was equally as simple as it was unfair, and, in retrospect, stupid. “The freedom, the audacity to do whatever the fuck he pleased. No consequences, ever.”

You remembered him saying the same thing to you on the bridge in Stockholm and felt yourself shiver as though the wind from that night had followed you all the way here.

“And the way he treated me when I was single was different, too,” Jungkook continued. “I was single, I was in a band, and it finally felt like he approved of me, like we were actually friends. Like we were equals. And I cared about that so fucking much. It felt like I finally had everything that he had, and I was just—blind.”

“But you didn’t,” you said. “You didn’t have what he has. I don’t think you ever will.”

Jungkook was surprised to realise that hearing this did not sting.

He agreed.

“Yeah,” he said. “I actually—I had so much more than Sid would ever have, because I had you. And that’s—that’s probably why he dragged me around with him. He was determined to make me truly lose you like he always made me lose everything. And I let him—I helped him make that come true. I can’t—I’m not much better than him. I want to believe I am, but I’m—I made the bet.”

You remembered thinking that Jungkook and Sid could never be equals, because Sid always needed Jungkook to have less. And now that you heard Jungkook come to a similar conclusion on his own, you thought you felt the room shift a little.

“Yeah,” you said, distracted. “T-that—the bet was fucked up.”

“I know. I’m—I’m sorry,” he said. “I just—I want you to know that I meant everything I had said. All of it. And I understand why you don’t want to believe me. I, uh—I know your family history. But I’ve got mine, too. My grandpa is almost eighty. He’s only ever loved one person his whole life. So did my dad. So will I. It’s just—regardless of what’s going to happen, you’re—I’ll always love you.”

You cleared your throat once, then once more—louder.

Jungkook was about ready to get up, alarmed suddenly, but you quieted and looked around. He caught a glimpse of your eyes as you scanned the room and he realised—in a paradoxical sense of relief—that you were frightened.

Not angry. Not refusing to believe him. Not disappointed or frustrated.

Just scared.

“It’s uh—it’s really late,” you said, looking back at the window. “Isn’t it? The sky’s completely dark.”

He swallowed. You didn’t want to talk about this. And you shouldn’t. You needed rest.

“Yeah, uh… do you want me to close the curtains?” he asked, swallowing all that was still left unsaid.

It was impossible anyway, he supposed, to pour seven years of misguided decisions into one conversation. He was just relieved you hadn’t asked him to leave.

“No,” you said. “Keep them open. I want to see the sky.”

He’d hoped you would say that, and he felt an almost forgotten lightness in his chest when you did. Lots of things had changed over the past few days, but a lot of things hadn’t—including your love for the night.

“A lot of stars tonight,” he said meaningfully. He was glad he had accidentally picked a hotel room with a view of boring back alleys: there were no lights to cover up the stars now.

“Yeah,” you agreed, much calmer. “They’re beautiful.”

There was a quote in a book his grandmother had once read to him: “are we human because we gaze at the stars, or do we gaze at them because we are human?”

He remembered feeling oddly wistful when he heard it. He imagined the night sky behind his closed eyes and he felt as though he was lacking something crucial—something that would come, but not yet.

He remembered watching the way you watched the stars back in Tilburg—hours before it all fell apart.

The night sky had always reminded him of you—really, even before he met you.

“I could open the window wider,” he suggested.

You closed your eyes.

“Could you?” you asked quietly.

“Yeah.” He stood up and approached the window, pulling the frame until he saw the ends of the curtains lift off the floor. “A distinct smell, isn’t it? The night.”

“It is,” you agreed.

It probably shouldn’t have been possible at this point, but as he turned around and traced your features with his gaze, he thought he fell in love with you a little more at this moment.

“We, um, we have this song,” he found himself saying as he returned to the armchair next to your bed. This song had been buzzing in his head nearly the whole night tonight. You could feel his nervousness as he mumbled, “ah, you probably know it already, it’s so obvious. And I told you in Oslo—okay, anyway. We have this song. It’s a B-side on our second single.”

“Cursed,” you said, recalling the title easily enough because this was your mum’s favourite song.

You always thought that the single—“Haunting,” which was their second title track and the very first Rated Riot song that you’d heard—overshadowed “Cursed.” Perhaps unfairly.

“Yeah.” Jungkook nodded. “Who, um—who do you think inspired it?”

Swallowing, you willed your thoughts to clear, so you wouldn’t have to think about the lyrics, but could not do it.

You remembered the entire chorus with perfect clarity, as though you were listening to Rated Riot perform the song in concert right now—Taehyung heavy on the bass and Jungkook yelling out the lyrics with his whole body leaning over the edge of the stage towards the audience.

You’re for the stars and for the moon to see /

You weren’t made for me /

You’re for the night and for the day to breathe /

You’re everything they want to be /

You're the enchantment that makes planets turn /

You’re more than the entire world /

You weren’t made for me, that much is true /

But I was made for you.

“I have no idea,” you said finally. You hoped, against all odds, this was a song that Yoongi wrote when he was drunk—those tended to be very emotional. “Was this the, um, absinthe one?”

Jungkook snickered humourlessly and shook his head.

“Don’t do this to me,” he asked, looking down for a moment—just until he could count the four loose threads in the carpet. Then he returned his gaze to you.

“It was you,” he said. “Your love for the night sky. I know it’s your favourite thing in the world.”

He said that and suddenly your chest was filled with them—with these stars that you loved to watch and he loved to sing about.

“W-well, that’s—you’re, um,” you struggled, “you’re not wrong about that, I guess.”

“It’s a song about my favourite thing in the world, too,” he added.

“W-what’s that?”

He had a sad smile on his face. “You.”

Your stomach tightened again and you squeezed your eyes shut—a feeble attempt to get away from this situation and from all the thoughts that your head could no longer contain.

“Not tonight,” you whispered. “I can’t—I don’t want to talk about us or about—about anything else tonight.”

“Okay,” he agreed immediately. “We won’t talk about it.”

“Okay,” you echoed, even though his laid-back response did not relax you.

You sensed longing in his words, and anguish. He would have done anything you asked him to—and this power scared you. You didn’t want it. You just wanted—

Exhaling loudly to drown out your thoughts, you turned to a side and glanced at the bandages on his face.

“Tomorrow, we will have to—we’ll have to figure out what to do with your eye,” you said.

Jungkook had not fully returned to this planet yet. “My eye?”

“Yes,” you said, giving him a longer look—as if to check if you hadn’t dreamt him—and then closing your eyes again. “Your black eye.”

He reached up to touch the bandages, perpetually confused about his injuries. “Oh—what do you mean, what to do with it?”

“Well, it’d probably be weird to cut it out, so we’ll have to cover it up.”

“Hmm.” He smiled at the ease in your voice. If everything else was lost, he hoped that he would at least get to keep your banter. “Okay.”

“I’ll think of something,” you promised as the gentle night wind brushed a strand of hair away from your face and fluttered your tired eyelashes.

“Thank you,” Jungkook said in a hush—his courage had finally abandoned him. “I’m sorry that this is another thing that you have to—”

“No,” you cut him off. “It’s not that bad.”

You tried to turn your head towards him, but lying here with your eyes closed felt very pleasant. You thought you’d felt revitalised before, you thought your body had started to feel more like it belonged to you again, but that had been momentary. You couldn’t keep your eyes open long enough to properly look at him.

“Do you mind if I… keep my eyes closed for a minute?” you asked.

“Do you mind if I stay here?” he responded.

“You—”

“Actually, I don’t care,” he decided. “I’m staying.”

You forced yourself to look at him. “You don’t have to do that. I’m fine.”

“You always say you’re fine,” he reminded you. “Look at where we are now.”

“It was a one-time thing. Look at this.” Lethargically, you raised your arm with the catheter. “I’m being pumped full of vitamins. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” he said. “I want to believe that. Really, I do, but you have to stop. You can’t keep going like this. I-I mean—”

You shook your head against the pillow. “Jungkook, this is really nothing.”

“I have a hard time believing that when you’re connected to a—”

“It’s—”

“Look, just—” he took a breath and extended his hands, “—p-please—please don’t let this happen again. Please look after yourself. I can’t lose you.”

He knew he might have to keep working with you without ever calling you his again. He’d have to learn how to deal with that.

But he could never deal with being here without you.

“Okay,” you said, your eyelids heavy. “Okay, I’ll be careful.”

“I’m going to need a promise here,” he said, reaching out his hand.

You chuckled weakly and extended your hand to gently graze his palm with the tips of your fingers. “I promise.”

He leaned in closer to fully grasp your hand in his, and saw the gentle—likely unconscious—smile on your lips as you squeezed his fingers. His chest filled with a warmth so big and powerful that, reasonably, there had to be no space left for his heart there anymore.

And yet something kept beating. He felt his own pulse reverberate against your fingers as he clutched your hand in his.

You’d be alright.

You hadn’t foreseen how calming the gentle dripping of the IV would be. You’d only meant to rest your eyes for a quick moment. You didn’t realise you had dozed off.

Only when your mind sobered up sometime in the early morning hours—you based the time solely on the colour of the sky outside—did you force your eyes open and concluded, with a painful jolt of your exhausted muscles, that you’d fallen asleep.

You looked around and for a moment, the dark, strange room filled your exhausted mind with terror. Then you noticed Jungkook sleeping in the chair next to you, and you felt yourself calm down.

Thank God he was here.

Blinking suddenly, you parted your lips as if preparing to argue with your own thoughts.

He wasn’t supposed to be here. He had a performance tomorrow. And a bandaged black eye that you still hadn’t figured out how to hide.

“I can tell you’re overthinking from all the way over here,” Jungkook said, his voice drowsy, eyes half-open. He must have heard the rustling of your covers and woken up. “Go to sleep.”

“What time is it?” you asked.

He was too tired to note the urgency in your voice as he mumbled, “sleeping time.”

“Jungkook, I’m serious,” you said. Finally, he caught your alarmed tone and his eyes shot open. “What time is it?”

He straightened in his seat and regarded you for a minute while he searched for his phone somewhere on the armchair. You didn’t appear to be in pain, but the emergency in your eyes threw him off.

“It’s three-twenty,” he said after a brief moment of blindness from the bright screen of his phone.

“Shit.” You looked around in the darkness, not sure when you had last seen your phone. You couldn’t remember Jungkook mentioning that he’d picked it up when he found you, and you hadn’t asked for it back. “I have to—”

“No,” he said, getting to his feet.

“No,” you argued back. “I need—”

He leaned over your bed and took hold of your hands right as you tried to throw off your duvet and sit up. You tried to evade him, but Jungkook proved he’d known you long enough to guess every move you were going to make—in complete darkness.

“No,” he said again, struggling with your relentless dedication to flail your limbs around until you stood up. “Lie down, please. I don’t know what you think you must do at three in the morning, but I promise you, it can wait. It’ll be done. I’ll do everything to make sure everything is okay.”

You stopped resisting his hold and allowed him to gently guide you back onto the mattress. He only let go of you when your head hit the pillows.

“You can’t be here. You need rest,” you insisted as he pulled the duvet over you, tucking it under your sides until you were firmly cocooned inside. You couldn’t tell if he did that for your comfort or to make sure you couldn’t escape this bed.

“So do you,” he countered.

“I'm fine—”

“No—for once, just... please stop saying that,” he asked, his eyes bright, but his voice completely spent. “You’re not fine. You’re getting a vitamin drip because you fainted. You need to sleep.”

You kept your eyes on his for another minute, trying to adjust to the thick darkness, so you could make out his silhouette as he towered over your bed. He was watching you and waiting.

“Okay,” you gave in. “I'll sleep.”

“I’ll be here,” he said, finally sitting back down.

You knew that wasn’t right. He needed to get proper rest. He shouldn’t have kept watch over you.

“Okay,” was all you said despite everything. “Thank you.”

He mumbled something unintelligible in response and you didn’t dare to ask him to repeat it. The room gave space to the night as your conversation wound down.

You could hear a faint screech of a lost bird outside the hotel window. Bugs were singing somewhere in the distance, too. And, as you drifted off, you thought you heard Jungkook whisper a weary “I love you.”

chapter title credits: bad omens, “the grey”

prev ○ next

#jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook angst #jeon jungkook fanfiction #jeon jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook x you #bts x reader #bts x you #bts rockstar au #jungkook rockstar au #bts au #jungkook au #bts fanfiction #jungkook fanfiction #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #bts angst #bts fluff

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: None (Yet) in chapters to come there will be smut (and lots of it) and possible violence/blood/gore

Chapter Word Count: 668

—-MDNI—-

A/N: My first Supernatural fic so I hope it doesn’t suck ass. Only proof read by myself, so pls let me know of any errors so I can correct! Also I know at this point in the series Dean is more serious, however I love pre-Hell Dean so imma bring some of those vibes in here. This is also posted on my AO3.

——————————————————————

I’m Not Your F*ckng Maid

-Prologue-

Dean was awoken with a slam inches from his face and he sprung to life, almost losing his balance before he realised where he was. He’d fallen asleep at the table with his face in a book and surrounded by heaps of paper - many of which he hadn’t even started to read through yet. Blinking awake and gaining his bearings, he heard a familiar voice ring through the room.

”You boys are disgusting, how do you live like this?” The older Winchester finally looked up to see Charlie lifting a plate of half eaten, day-old pizza whilst kicking several beer bottles aside so she could pull out a chair and take a seat next to Dean, who was pinching the bridge of his nose.

”Yeah well, we’ve been a little busy recently if you haven’t noticed,” his voice was gravelly from the sleep. Charlie put down the plate of old food and sat down, worry crossing her face as she looked at the man next to her. She knew they’d been under a lot of pressure lately with their work, so much so that the brothers were starting to neglect themselves. It had been months since they’d eaten proper food that wasn’t instant or take-out, they rarely went outside, always locking themselves away in the bunker to do research and the bunker itself was getting cluttered with bin bags and pizza boxes. Not to mention the piles of laundry that she’s noticed slowly starting to form its own ecosystem in the washroom.

“Yeah I get that, but you really have to look after yourselves. When was the last time you ate a vegetable?”

Dean scoffed.

“Yesterday, obviously,” he gave her a look like she was from another planet, and she rolled her eyes.

“The pizza sauce doesn’t count, Dean.”

He looked puzzled, raising an eyebrow, “Why not?”

Before she could even humour him with an answer, Sam emerged, rubbing his eyes.

“Oh hey Charlie, when did you get here?” His voice was equally as gravelly as Deans, so she assumed he’d also just woken up.

“Five minutes ago.”

“She called us disgusting Sam. And she said the sauce on pizza isn’t made from vegetables,” Dean gestured to Charlie like she was the fool as he looked up at his younger brother who now stood across from him on the other side of the table. Sam went to open his mouth to respond, but closed it again quickly and furrowed his brows, clearly unsure how to reply to his older brother without opening a can of worms. Charlie huffed.

“You guys need to sort yourself out. I only dropped by because I hadn’t heard from you for a while and thought you might’ve worked yourself to death. I can’t stay long because I’m meeting a friend for a drink. She’s already at the diner waiting for me”

“A friend?” Dean wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and the redhead smirked.

“I wish, sadly she’s into dudes,” she paused, a thought crossing her mind, “Come to think of it, she’s actually looking for work, you guys might be able to help.”

Dean and Sam shared a glance.

“She’s a hunter?” Sam asked.

“Not exactly. Her uncle was, so she knows about stuff, but from what I know she was just a research girlie,” Charlie peered at the mess of papers on the table, “and it looks like you could use the help.” She looked between the brothers as they stared at each other, like they were having some sort of unspoken conversation. A few moments passed before Dean slapped his hand on the table and stood up.

“Sure ok, but we’re coming with you today to meet her,” he went to grab his jacket from the back of his chair, an eagerness in his movements before Charlie put her hand out to stop him.

“Great!” She grinned, before raising her eyebrows and pointing to them both, “but first you guys have got to shower, because I can taste your BO from here.”

——————————————————————

Up Next

Chapter 1

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader #Dean Winchester x reader smut #Dean Winchester x you smut #dean x reader #dean x you #dean x y/n #dean x female!reader #dean winchester smut

[silksongeveryday]

Drawing Hornet everyday until Silksong comes out - Day 200!!!

(huge thanks to this person for the art suggestion!! <3)

I genuinely can’t believe that I’ve made it to 200 days, it’s truly been wild how time flies by like that and the amount of doodles I’ve made during that time. Over 200 doodles (217 to be exact if we’re counting double pictures/extra doodles) have been made over the past 200 days. :0

And thank you all so much for the love and support! Not only have we reached 200 days but also 1400+ followers about a week ago! <3

But, having said that I’d like to make a few announcements—some good, some not so great—about a few things regarding the blog, myself, and other stuff.

Putting it all under the cut so the post isn’t long if you’d like to know more

______________________________

Announcements!

My pfp!

1.) I’ll be changing my pfp again!! I’ve officially decided that after every 100 days or so I’ll change up the pfp so it’s up to date with my doodle style (assuming it changed at all lol), but generally it’ll look relatively the same as the last!

Possibly more admins?

2.) As of right now I’m looking into the idea/possibility of having a second (maybe third?) person help me with daily doodles! As much as I’d like to keep doodling everyday there are some days that it can be tough or some situation might be happening. (i.e. recently got injured)

See, the problem is I don’t exactly have a proper way of trying this out??? My idea was to maybe do this through dms or more preferably Google Forms. I also don’t really know what form of communication afterward would be best either, suggestions to help me work this out would be great! (as you can tell I’m not very good at this stuff lol)

Commissions!

3.) After much consideration and a lot of thought, I’ve decided that in the near future, I’ll be opening commissions again for the first time in years. I don’t have everything set up quite yet, but expect more info in the near future!

About requests:

4.) You may have noticed recently that I haven’t been doing as many doodle requests recently. Sure, there’s usually quite a few in a row at once but you may have noticed I’ve also been doing “non-requested” doodles aka ones that I just do on my own.

Expect this to become a very normal thing going forward. I probably won’t be doing as many requests as before because frankly with the amount of requests I get daily when it’s open is a lot to handle sometimes. Does this mean requests will be stopped entirely? No, I’ll still do some occasionally, but not as much as I have in the past.

Also I’ll likely be doing strictly anonymous requests.

About Burnout:

5.) Alright let’s address the elephant in the room.

There have been quite a few instances where people have wondered if I would ever have burnout and have occasionally joked about “dying” from said burnout because “Silksong will never release, you’ll be doing this forever” etc etc.

In the past I’ve been fine, motivation has been great, but recently I’ve noticed it a little bit.

Unfortunately life has its own plans so it can be a little hard for me to make a doodle that day, expecially recently since I’ve been experiencing personal/medical issues. It’s part of the reason I’m hoping to get a second (maybe third) person to help me do daily doodles so I can take a little bit of the load off my shoulders.

So what does this mean for this blog?

Not much right now. But in the future, there may be some changes. My current plan is to keep going on daily doodles/posts for the length of a standard year, so roughly 365 days. After that, if things in personal life keep up the way they have, I may have to stop daily doodles and instead will post only if I have time. That likely means doodles every other day or every three days or something. At the very least I’ll still post a doodle once a week.

Not to worry though! I’ll still try my best even after I reach day 365 :)

I’ll discuss how things work a little more on my main @miizori later, but that’s as much as I can think to explain rn.

———————————————

Just a few more things I wanted to say!

This community has been so cool to interact with, so much tamer than some others I’ve been apart of in the past. I’m genuinely thankful for how much support and how nice everyone has been. I truly didn’t expect to get this far, I was fully expecting to have stopped like 10 doodles in lol. I especially love to see all your comments in the tags and people sharing their art. You’re all so cool :)))

I have a dtiys from back when I reached 300 followers that’s still available if you’re feeling up to it!

Also my main (again, @miizori) is where I make updates on doodle stuff, regular art stuff and so on if you’re interested at all in that lol

I think that’s all that I can remember wanting to say, so thanks!! I look forward to more doodles for you all :)

#hollow knight #silksong #hk hornet #hollow knight hornet #silksong hornet #hk shade lord #shade lord #hollow knight shade lord #hollow knight fanart #hk fanart #silksongeveryday

[t4rt4gl14]

Hello hello, if you NSFW event is still open could I please request a fem!reader x Zhongli with #1. “h-hey! i can’t c-cum again! stop!~” prompt?

#.again?…u want me to cum.again?!

☆ ➣ #1. “h-hey! i can’t c-cum again! stop!~”

☺︎ — FEATURING :: zhongli. xiao. kazuha. gorou. kaeya. albedo. thoma.

✦⌇ WARNINGS: MNDI. DARK CONTENT AHEAD. GN!READER + blowjob + handjob + edging + toys + ( mean reader ) + bondage + blindfolds + dacryphilia + overstim <33 + tail tugging + roleplay?? w albedo! + cock/strap

WC: 0.8K 💀 [ btw reblogs appreciated i luv yall sm ]

ZHONGLI.

✎…zhonglis back arched whilst your hand met his cock again, wrists turning red from tugging at the rope for the past 40 minutes- he’s already came..twice!, it hurts so much! but feels so good, “a-aanghhmm dearest!~♡ p-please! oohmm~!!♡♡”, you lean down to suck on the tip whilst you pump the rest of his length, swirling your tongue all round- collecting the pre-cum whilst his hips quiver. his knuckles soon turned whites whilst gripping the sheets, moaning out as his tries to use his other palm to cover his mouth, ashamed at how an archon can be put in such a state.

[ MORE UTC ]

his hips buck up whilst he starts to feel the heat pool in his abdomen once more, the tight knot snapping whilst he cums in your mouth for the third time. his back completely arching off the bed whilst his eyes snap shut. “a-ah! c-CUMMING! mmggh! aahngg~~ ♡ o-oh y/n!♡”. yum. broken zhongli <33

XIAO.

✎…who would’ve thought that last adepti would be in such a position, his back leaning on your chest whilst your arm wraps around his waist and the other holds a fleshlight, engulfing xiaos cock. he whines and thrashes and the feeling of such a toy but he needs his relief sometimes, “good boy, just relax…feel good for me..”. and before you know it he cums without your permission, when coming down from his high he apologises profusely as he tries to slip away from your arms.

yet you pull him back and start jerking him off, in fact squeezing the toy more, “a-ah! aannnmmm aah!♡♡ s-stopp! m-mmnn♡”, the tears start to cascade whilst he shakes in your arms, “ohh?adeptus xiao?? crying??? such a whore”, he shakes his head whilst his hips stutter, “n-not a whore- o-oh stop i-i can’t! c-cumming!!~ ♡ i-i..a-ANGH! mm~!”, nono this won’t do. three more orgasms will suffice.

KAZUHA.

✎…aahh kazuha! such a good boy- he looks so pretty when he’s crying from the onslaught pleasure and all spread out with a spreading bar, “nonono! please no! f-feels too good~ mm- cant! cum again♡♡a-angh!”, you slow down your brutal pace of fingering him, “wanna use safe word?”, he whimpers and shakes his head no, “p-please keep going”, you grin whilst fingering him again, stroking his cock at the same time.

he covers his mouth using both hands and spurts out white streaks of cum, crying out whilst he shakes and turns on the sheets, “a-aahhh!! cumming- c-cumming!♡”, he moans out your name whilst attempting to fuck your fist but little did you know you plan on milking him dry anw.

GOROU.

✎…gorou lays on his stomach whilst he moans into the pillow, the tip of pretty cock red whilst the tears pour down his cheeks, youve been tugging on his tail for 30 minutes now and he’s came twice! he can’t do it anymore- not to mention when you touch up his ears and scratch them at the base, along with the vibrator in his ass, so snug and at the highest setting.

his eyes roll back and his tongue lols out when you tug on the base of his fluffy tail; pretty hole fluttering whilst he cums all over his stomach once more, unable to even form proper words as the vibrations send him reeling again. “aaahh! mmfff! ah ah ah!! mm♡♡.”

KAEYA.

✎…tbh it was a sight to behold, the almighty calvary captain tied up and under your control? sucking on his nipples whilst you press a vibrator onto his tip, you’ve been edging him for so long! “annngh! an- ah!~ n-no!”, he whines when you edge him again, always pushing the vibrator away just as he’s about to cum. fine if he wants to cum so badly he can.

you twist his nipples whilst setting the vibrator to the highest setting as you apply pressure onto, he comes unexpectedly and yet whines you continue playing with him, “no! too much~ t-too much! angh!~♡♡”, what a slut, make up your mind.

ALBEDO.

✎…you smirk whilst blindfolding albedo, and tying his wrists to the headboard, eyeing at the arrays of toys you have on the counter, “well we’ll be doing some research today albedo”, “r-research?”, he questions but before he could get a word you begin stroking him with lube, “researching how many orgasms you can withstand.”

surprisingly he’s on his 4th orgasm and going, the blindfolding heighten his senses and the electric feeling of the prostrate massager constantly bumping onto his special spot. it’s worse when you squeeze the base of his cock, body twitching as he cums for the 5th time that night.

“aaahhh! ammmgh! ahahh~~!!♡♡”

THOMA.

✎…the tears begin to well up in thomas emerald eyes whilst you pound him into the mattress, at this point his body’s weak so you have to hold his hips up for him, “mmm!~ o-ohh my!~♡♡”, you didn’t expect him to cum after a few spanks on his cute ass. spank. he mewls out as his eyes roll back. one more spank and he spilt his load all over the sheets.

a few moments later and his soft, plump ass red is a cherry red whilst he sniffles, orgasming again and again, “n-nooo! c-can’t cum again! ♡♡mm- ahh~~!!♡”, you grin whilst you lift his knees up, fucking into him even deeper- thoma couldve swore he’s never felt that good before.

#genshin drabbles #genshin impact drabbles #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin headcanons #genshin x you #genshin x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #zhongli x reader #xiao x reader #kazuha x reader #gorou x reader #kaeya x reader #albedo x reader #thoma x reader #zhongli x reader smut #xiao x reader smut #kazuha x reader smut #gorou smut #kaeya x reader smut #albedo x reader smut #thoma x reader smut #zhongli smut #xiao smut #kazuha smut #kaeya smut #albedo smut #thoma smut

[spaceman-earthgirl]

Supercorptober 2023 Day 14: Midnight

ao3 fic link. series link.

Lena can’t keep her eyes open, her blinks turning slower as she struggles the stay conscious. But she refuses to sleep, she doesn’t want this conversation to end.

“Mmhmm,” Lena hums to Kara’s last statement, too tired to form proper words anymore. Which is definitely a sign she should sleep, but not just yet.

“You sound tired,” Kara says. “Oh gosh, is that the time?”

Lena blinks her eyes open, not realising when she’d closed them. She pulls her phone away from her ear to check the time. “It’s after midnight,” Lena says, the surprise waking her up, just a little. They’ve been talking for over three hours.

“Yeah,” Kara laughs, her voice warm and soothing in Lena’s ear. “I should let you sleep, it’s late.”

Lena wants to argue, wants to say she’s fine and it’s not that late, because she’d had a long day, the only thing making it better being this conversation. But she really doesn’t think she can stay awake for much longer.

“You need to sleep too.”

“I will,” Kara hums, and again, Lena is filled with an indescribable warmth that makes her want to continue this conversation forever. “Goodnight, Lena. Sleep well.”

“Goodnight, Kara.”

Lena’s asleep as soon as her eyes close again.

---

“Miss Luthor, it’s late, what are you still going here?”

Lena rolls her eyes at Kara’s way of greeting. It’s not uncommon for Supergirl to fly by late at night and find Lena still working, except-

“Is that the time?” Lena asks, glancing at the clock on her computer.

“Yes, it’s almost midnight, which means you should be at home and in bed by now.”

Lena sighs. “You’re right.” She rubs tiredly at her eyes. She’d removed her contacts hours ago, which should have been a sign that it was getting late and she should go home. 

“I usually am.” Kara grins. “Another thing I’m right about is how cute you look in glasses.”

Lena blushes, just like she always does when Kara comments on her glasses. Lena usually avoids wearing them at all costs, she prefers her contacts, but she does sometimes wear her glasses now just because she knows Kara likes them.

Lena busies herself gathering her belongings so she doesn’t have to respond. Kara clearly knows what she’s doing because she laughs.

“Do you want a lift home?” Kara asks.

Lena shakes her head. “No thanks, I’ll just take the car.”

“Are you sure?” Kara flexes her arms. “Because I’ve been told that I’m very strong.”

Lena’s cheeks really go red this time and Kara laughs again. She’d said that one time while drunk and Kara hasn’t let her forget it since. Apparently, Kara is in a teasing mood tonight. Which is cute, but does things that Lena’s heart can’t quite handle.

Kara laughs again, and Lena can’t even be too annoyed because again, she’s cute.

“Well, text me when you get home then?”

“I will,” Lena smiles. She nods her head towards the window. “Stay safe out there.”

Kara salutes with another grin before she’s gone in a flash. Lena thinks working late isn’t that bad when she gets to see Kara.

---

Lena doesn’t want to be alone. She thought she’d be okay, even told Kara as much when she’d offered to come over this evening. Lena had declined, but now it’s nearing midnight and she’s alone and scared and can’t sleep.

She’s been debating for the last half hour whether or not to call Kara, just to talk, just so she doesn’t feel quite so alone. But it’s late and she doesn’t want to disturb her.

The thought that makes the decision for Lena is the fact that if the roles were reversed, she’d want Kara to call her if she was upset.

Lena takes a shaky breath before she presses Kara’s contact on her phone. Two rings later and Kara answers, and judging by the sleepy quality of her voice, she’s woken her best friend.

“Hello?”

“Did I wake you?” Lena asks, already knowing the answer.

“Are you okay?” Kara asks, instead of answering the question.

The question reminds Lena of exactly why she’s calling and suddenly she feels like crying. “I-“

Lena doesn’t even get to say anything more before Kara cuts in. “Do you want me to come over?”

Lena only hesitates for a moment before she answers. She knows exactly what she wants, she just doesn’t like asking for things.

“Please.”

“I’ll be right there.”

True to her word, Kara’s there only moments later, tentatively knocking on Lena’s bedroom door. “Hi.”

Lena swallows, tries not to cry again. Today had shaken her more than she’d realised, and now all she wants is a hug from her best friend. She always feels safe when Kara’s around.

Clearly Kara can see exactly what Lena wants because Kara doesn’t hesitate as she enters the room and climbs right into bed beside Lena. She doesn’t wait as she shuffles over and then Lena’s wrapped in a warm embrace. She does cry this time, but Kara just holds her and she knows everything is going to be ok.

---

Lena doesn’t realise it’s so close to midnight until the countdown starts, the shouts loud as excitement buzzes around the room. She sees all the couples pair up and it instantly makes her look for Kara, the only person she wants to bring the new year in with.

To Lena’s surprise, Kara is already looking at her when Lena finds her and as the countdown ticks down, Kara crosses the room to meet her.

“Three…two…one…Happy New Year!”

The shouts ring out in unison around the apartment and Kara opens her arms, Lena stepping into her best friend’s embrace, wrapping her own arms around Kara in return.

“Happy New Year,” Kara repeats when she pulls away.

“Happy New Year,” Lena smiles.

There are more celebrations going on around the apartment but Lena pays them no mind for the moment, eyes only on Kara.

Because how could Lena look anywhere else? Kara’s eyes are the most striking colour of blue she’s ever seen, her cheeks pink with excitement, scattered with freckles that Lena has had dreams of pressing her lips to. Kara’s smile is so bright and Lena couldn’t look away even if she tried.

“I have a good feeling about this year,” Kara says. She’s close, the words just for them.

Lena’s not sure why, but she has the same feeling. “Me too.”

The moment stretches, and Lena wonders which one of them will move first. It’s always one of them, breaking away from these moments that seem to be happening more and more recently. But neither of them do, and Lena doesn’t miss the way Kara’s eyes fall to her lips.

This is far from the first time Lena’s caught Kara staring at her lips, but something about this feels different.

Kara’s leaning in, and this isn’t even the first time that Kara’s done that either, but neither of them are pulling away. In fact, Lena is leaning in too and then their lips meet and it sounds cliché, but Lena sees fireworks as Kara kisses her.

It’s brief, far too brief for Lena’s liking, and when she blinks her eyes open, she finds Kara watching her.

“Was that okay?”

Lena is so in love, it’s ridiculous. She reaches out, tangles her fingers with Kara’s. “It was more than okay.”

“Yeah?” Kara asks, a grin spreading across her face. “Does that mean I can do it again?”

“You better.”

Kara laughs and then Lena laughs too and then they’re kissing and Kara was right, this is definitely going to be a good year.

#supergirl #supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #supercorp fanfic #supercorptober2023

[softieekayy]

Sweet treat

Vincent Renzi x reader

Word count: 1.8k

A/n: the dialogue is italicized because my French isn’t good enough (yet) to right proper dialogue.

Moments like these were precious to Vincent. These quiet serene moments where the only sound was the chirping of birds and the soft, mellow music in the background that accompanied it. He liked to light a cigarette, lean into his chair as he sat on his small balcony, looking out to the sky and the street below him.

However what captured his attention more was the cute little baker from across from him.

Vincent noticed that she often started her day early, rushing into the store as if her pants were on fire, hair unkempt and a cigarette dangling from her lips as the long winter coat protected her from the harsh wind. Vincent often donned a smile seeing her. He saw himself in her. The way the hair was messy and the cigarette, she was just another version of him. One that he so desperately wanted to know.

He watched her now, eyes squinting slightly as the silver haired man waited for his mystery woman to arrive. She was late today but Vincent swore up and down that he wasn’t stalking her. No, he’d never do that. He’d just familiarized himself with her routine. It wasn’t much different from his own. Up at such ungodly hours doing lord knows what.

This time though, she felt him watching. The clearly disheveled woman could feel eyes on her a couple months ago yet she chose to ignore it. Until she caught a glimpse of possibly the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. The young woman let a small smile graced her lips as he looked up at him, eyes squinting from the sun that decided to peek out today. He wasn’t looking at her then, no. He was looking ahead, not even in her direction. Deciding that she was running late already, the woman headed into the shop, quite unaware of Vincent’s watchful eyes.

Days went by yet neither of them made any moves. (Y/n) watched him occasionally, admiring the way his silver hair fell over his forehead. He looked like a cat. A very beautiful cat. She wanted to know the man yet she couldn’t exactly match up to him and ask questions. Her nose crinkled at the thought of being so invasive. Vincent, ever the recluse, watched her from his balcony, a cigarette in his mouth. He wanted to introduce himself to her and get to know her, possibly at dinner but he didn’t. He couldn’t.

“Watching him again?” A voice, Helene’s voice, interrupted the young woman from her thoughts. She turned her head slightly to look at the older woman standing in front of her, a teasing smile on her face and arms crossed.

(Y/n) scoffed. “No, I’m just… admiring the weather.” Her voice held uncertainty. Helene laughed, the young woman couldn’t lie to save a life.

“Mhm, because the weather is stunning today.” It wasn’t. The weather was horrible, not a peak of sunshine. It was just strong wind and clouds looking like they’re about to bless the ground with snow.

“Yeah. I can’t wait for the inevitable snow storm we’ll have.” The younger woman replied sarcastically, throwing her hair over her shoulder. She’d done it nicely today, two braids on both sides.

Helene looked up at the man, his name still unknown to both of them.

“He is quite beautiful.” She sighed, taking in Vincent’s form and earning herself a jab in the rib from her coworker.

“Come. Stop being distracted, we have work to do.” (Y/n) tells her, pulling the older woman in by her arm, leaving Vincent unbeknownst to their conversation.

The older man retreated into his apartment, it wasn’t a very small one. It was nice, well, nice enough for him. Two bedrooms, one used as an office while the other one looked like it had barely been slept in. He rubbed his eyes, trying to drive away the tiredness that seeped through his bones and into his head. Vincent looked over to the pile of files he had to sort through, sighing, he went over to brew himself a nice, warm cup of coffee.

“Fuck.” Vincent muttered, seeing the sputtering of the old machine. He sighed, rubbing his forehead in agitation. He knew he should’ve replaced the damn machine months ago but he didn’t. And now he’s seeing the fruit of his labour. Maybe today was his lucky day. Maybe he’d get to talk to the cute owner of the coffee shop. The older man exhaled deeply, pulling on a black sweater, one of his nicer ones along with a black trench coat.

The weather didn’t seem to be letting up soon and he wasn’t fond of freezing.

Vincent made his way down the stairs of his apartment, walking across the street and towards the shop. He stopped for a minute, breathing deeply, he didn’t want to come across as a stalker and he sincerely hoped that the cute girl didn’t notice his obvious staring. He pulled the door open, walking into the shop, surprised to see it busy.

“Oh my god.” Helene whispered, her jaw dropping as she noticed the silver haired man walk in. She nudges the younger woman beside her.

“What?” (Y/n) asked her, not in the mood to listen to another one of Helene’s rants on the cute guy that just walked in. (Y/n) stood up from where she was crouching and turned to look in Helene’s line of direction, only for her jaw to drop as well. The man that she had been admiring for the past few weeks was even more beautiful up close. His hair fell so perfectly over his forehead and the sweater he wore just did something for him. Not that he wasn’t perfect already.

Vincent looked at her, eyes crinkling as a small smile donned his lips as he made his way up to the counter.

“Hello.” Vincent greeted her politely, hands stuffed into his coat pockets. God she was even more beautiful up close. Big doe eyes looking up at him from behind the counter making him forget why he was here in the first place.

“Oh hello! Welcome to Café of Curiosity! How can I help you today?” The young woman chirped happily, looking at Vincent. Well, she wasn’t really looking, she was admiring him. Vincent lost his train of thoughts for a small second. He wanted to hear her voice for the rest of his life.

“Café of Curiosity?” He asked.

“Mhm. It’s because there’s many coffee flavors that intrigue curiosity that we offer!” Helene chirps in and both of them turn to look at her. (Y/n) shooting her a sharp glare while the older man just looks at her and nods before turning his attention to the woman before him.

“Right then. I’ll just get a plain black coffee and a croissant, please.” Vincent tells the young woman in front of him, nodding at his choices.

“Going for the basics?” She asks, not looking up at him from the screen. Vincent hums in answer.

“Right… May I grab a name for the order?” She asks him kindly, offering him a sugary sweet smile.

“Oh I’m sorry! It’s Vincent.” (Y/n) laughed at his expression, a deer in headlights. Vincent felt warmth rush up to his neck and into his cheeks, no doubt looking like a beetroot. He’s sure he’s embarrassed himself and ruined all his chances while the woman opposite him thought that he was endearing and charming, in an awkward way. She nodded and gestured for him to wait by the other side of the counter.

“He’s cute, no?” Helene nudged the younger girl who only smiled. Helene knew though, she always knew. She looked up at the man, Vincent, who was looking at her co-worker and smiled.

“Well, I’m not handing him his order.” Helene exclaimed, moving to greet the person at the counter.

“What why?!” (Y/n) asked, eyebrows furrowed together and a small pout on her lips.

“Because, my dear, I doubt I’m the one he’s here to see.” Helene winked, pushing the younger girl forward gently. Vincent smiled awkwardly, fiddling with his phone, opening the photos app and settings, trying to look like he was doing something other than staring.

“Vincent!” She called out, capturing his attention. The said man looked up at her, smiling. He seemed to be doing a lot of that near her. He went up to the counter to grab his drink and croissant, hands briefly touching.

“Oh, thank you!” He responded, grabbing his coffee off the counter. The younger woman nodded her head in response. Having nothing else to say, he awkwardly turned around and left, cursing himself for not saying more. Inside the café, (Y/n) was doing the same, shaking her head in disapproval at her stupidity for not saying anything.

“You know, he’s still outside.” Helene pointed out, seeing the mop of silver waiting for the light to turn green. (Y/n) looked at her before smirking, she grabbed a tiramisu, tossing it in a box before running out.

“Vincent!” The young woman yelled out, waving her hand for him to pause, and he did. Vincent halted in his tracks, waiting for the woman to catch up.

“You forgot this.” She panted out, one hand holding the box out to him while the other was on her knee, trying to catch her breath.

“Oh… I didn’t order this.” He told her, trying to turn it down, thinking that she had mistaken him for someone else.

“Think of it as a treat! From me to you.” She told him, shoving the box in his hands and bolting before he had a chance to say anything else. The older man huffed out a small laugh at their interaction and made his way home, not thinking much of it. On his short walk home, he couldn’t get the sound of her voice out of his head.

Vincent Renzi was utterly enamoured by this siren of a woman.

He set the box down, opening it up only to see something that surprised him. Inside the box was the woman’s phone number and name.

“Call me… or not.” He whispered out loud, laughing a bit. He hadn’t even known her properly yet she was already weaseling her way into his heart. He saved the number in his phone, not quite ready to shoot her a text yet.

This had to be the best day possible for him. All because he forgot to replace his stupid coffee maker.

Deciding that the weather wasn’t going to change its mind anytime soon, Vincent decided to drink and work outside, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. Only to see that she was waiting for him, in the window of her café, waving at him shyly before signaling her hand into a phone. Vincent nodded, truly intending to know the woman more, hopefully over a nice dinner and a glass of wine. She smiled before turning on her heels and rushing back to the café.

Oh dear, he hadn’t even known her yet he was in so deep.

Tagging: @caramel-hufflepuff @weird-civilian @hypocritic-trash-baby @ynguklvr @jake-g-lockley

#vincent renzi x reader #Vincent Renzi x reader fluff #Vincent Renzi fic #Vincent Renzi x you #Vincent Renzi #swann Arlaud #Swann Arlaud x reader fluff #Swann Arlaud x you #anatomy of a fall #anatomie d'une chute #slice of life #meet cute

[scekrex]

Ok.

Adam X Male Reader (ofc).

But.

Reader erotically dances or just pole dances in revealing clothes for Adam to get off to.

While music blasts in the background.

Okay so the song I chose for this fic is 'Shut Me Up' by Mindless Self Indulgence bc I thought it fits, the cursive written shit r the lyrics blasting in the background.

Make me cum

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, pole dancing, sexual dancing, lap dancing, hand jobs

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

The bass, the rock, the mic, the treble / I like my coffee black just like my metal

Adam’s golden eyes were glued to your body, in admiration he watched as you moved your body ever so fluently, so smoothly. There you were, kneeling on the floor as you thrust your hips up into nothing but air and the brunette did not understand how you managed to make something simple as thrusting your hips up into nothing look so fucking sexy. In a fluent motion you got up from the floor, with a look in your eyes that made Adam feel hunted, that made you look like a predator who just spotted his prey. You stepped closer to the first man, rounded the armchair he was sitting on, then stopped behind him. Your hands grabbed his shoulders firmly and you pulled the backrest of the chair flush against your barely covered chest, that caused a surprised yelp to fall from his lips and the back of his head hit your sternum. Hazy eyes looked up at you, hazy eyes filled with lust and desire and yet they managed to hold so much love for you as well. The hand on the first man’s dick stuttered as your breath hit his ear and you whispered, “Enjoying yourself?” Because fuck yeah, he was enjoying himself, he was enjoying the show you gave him even more though. He wanted to grab you by your waist, pull you in, bury his dick deep inside you and push you over the edge with him - but you had made it clear that if you were to give him a dance like that, a show even, he was not allowed to touch you in any form or way, the only person allowed to touch were you.

‘Cause I can’t wait for you to knock me up / In a minute, minute, in a fuckin’ minute

Your hands roamed over his chest, lightly pulling Adam’s chest hair, you drew a delicious sounding moan from the brunette and he arched his back in such a pretty way for you, it was truly a shame that this would get him nowhere today. Because today he was at your mercy, he would cum when you allowed him to and not just verbally, this time you had to physically push him over the edge first, the only assistant Adam had was his hand, the rest was yours to take care of. And let’s just say that you knew quite well what you were doing. “Fuck, Y/N,” the brunette breathed out heavily as his eyes locked with yours, the wicked grin on your lips was something he wasn’t quite sure if he liked yet but when your hand covered the hand he had wrapped around his dick, when you squeezed lightly, he lost the strength to keep his eyes open for any longer.

I can’t wait for you to knock me up / In a minute, minute, in a second

The music that was blasting through your apartment was loud enough to swallow Adam’s moans for the public - especially for those fucking noisy kind of neighbors you had, but not for you. You heard every little sound he made. You withdrew your hand from Adam’s erection as quick as you had been to wrap it around the first man’s hard on, making the brunette whine at the loss of friction. Adam was used to teasing, he had been your boyfriend for a fucking while, of course he was used to teasing, but there had never been teasing without an reward so whatever it is that was happening, Adam wasn’t able to wrap his mind around it fully. The only clear thought that his mind was capable of producing was ‘Get him in your lap and fuck him mindless’. And he wasn’t very subtle about his thought as his hands reached behind him, clawing on your shoulders, trying to get a proper grip on you so he could lift you over his shoulder and get you to sit in his lap, his brain had completely forgotten about the no touching rule you had made so clear in the beginning. He had been created to reproduce, it was in his nature to get his dick wet - at least that was what the leader of the exorcists kept telling himself.

I can’t wait for you to shut me up and make me hip like badass

You pulled away from his grip instantly, slapped his hands playfully to remind you of who was in charge of all of this. “No touching,” your voice sounded so firm, so dominant that Adam was quick to drop his hand. He wanted you to keep talking, wanted you to step into his view again and continue to dance for him, he wanted whatever it was you were offering and drown in it. So when he felt you stepping away from the back of the chair and you appeared on his left side, he thanked God for listening to his wishes. “If you touch me again, I’m off of you for good. No more dancing, no more touching. Then you simply won’t cum,” and the eager nod Adam gave your words was telling you all you needed to know, the man was desperate, too far gone to actually speak words, too far gone to disagree because he wanted to climax so badly, felt like he would die if you would deny him his orgasm. So all he could do truly was to agree to the words spoken by you.

I can’t wait for you to shut me up / Shut it up

You swung your leg over Adam’s and your naked asscheeks were quick to meet his bare thighs, the brunette’s head lulled backwards, hit the top of the armchair’s backrest as it did and a throaty moan fell from his slightly parted lips. “Touch me and all of this comes to an end, and trust me when I tell you,” you once again grabbed a hold of his shoulders, a harsh pull forced the first man’s upper body to collide with yours and he felt as if the air got knocked out of his lungs. You moved your hips a little, trying to find a position that was somewhat comfortable. That position was found when Adam pulled his hand off of his dick and his erection found its place right between your asscheeks. Good. “Holy fucking shitballs,” the brunette underneath you cursed under his breath as his eyes watched your every move. His hands had gripped the armrests of the chair and he was digging his nails into the soft fabric in order to keep himself from reaching out for your body. He wanted to touch you, to make you experience the same amount of pleasure you were giving him, he also wanted to simply lift you up and carry you over to the couch and fuck you silly. HIs mind was telling him to do all sorts of things to you that he knew you would like, but he wasn’t allowed to and you weren’t complaining about the boner in your underwear. So he remained seated and kept his hands to himself, even though that was fucking hard to do.

I don’t buy your body right now / I’m almost over my body right now

And then you started grinding your hips against his, you were giving him a lap dance. And Adam had to admit, he understood why people were barely able to keep it together during those, because he himself was struggling hard with the no touching rule you had laid out. It felt like torture and a blessing at the same time, though he was sure it would feel even better if he were allowed to grab your hips and guide them a little. This way the only active thing he was allowed to do was meeting your thrusts, matching your pace and watching you move your body in the most divine way Adam had ever seen. Because you didn’t just stop at simply moving your hips against his, no, that would be boring to do so. Like before, you were putting on a show for the first man, you stripped out of the bit of fabric that had been just long enough to cover your nipples and as soon as that was off you roamed your hands over your body in ways that you knew Adam would do. It was visibly driving the brunette insane and you had to admit that you liked teasing him so much more than you had thought you ever would.

I’m on my way to the party right now / I don’t buy your body right now.

And just when Adam thought you had settled for a position that you would stay in until he would eventually orgasm, you pushed yourself off his lap and went back to fully dancing for him. And don’t get him wrong, he appreciated your dancing, especially because you made it look so easy and sexy at the same time, but he also appreciated friction. Friction that you had just taken away from him without the slightest bit of a warning. A whine of your name fell from his lips as his eyes continued to watch you - it was this moment that he fully learned to like the pole you had convinced him to get installed a couple months ago, this was the first time he actively watched you using it. And holy fucking shit, your dancing before had been good, magnificent even, but seeing you poledancing? Yeah that was truly something else entirely.

I’m almost over my body right now / I’m on my way to the party right now

The brunette’s hand was back on his dick in an instant and you couldn’t hide the soft chuckle his quick reaction caused, not that you had tried very hard anyway. “C’mon big guy,” your voice sounded playful, inviting and yet taunting at the same time and the first man was so overwhelmed by everything going on that he found himself unable to respond. “Show me how much you appreciate my skills and my effort,” the taller male that was watching you knew that you just gave him the verbal permission to cum and while he would’ve loved to do so, he needed a little something to push him off the edge, just a little more than he was able to give himself. A little something of you, preferably.

Because the break, the break, the break

Your legs wrapped around the ple tightly as your hands let go, you bent your body backwards until your palms were pressed firmly against the ground. That’s when you untangled your legs and pushed yourself off the pole, stopping right in front of Adam. Your hand traced up his inner leg in a teasing manner and yet that was enough to cause the first man to fall apart completely. With a loud, throaty moan of your name, that sounded more like he was cursing you out if you were honest, he spilled his load and came undone. He covered his milky skin with the white fluid that kept spilling from his dick like he hadn’t orgasmed in weeks - which wasn’t the case at all. But Adam was simply the type of guy who would be able to fill buckets with his cum, God had created him to reproduce after all. “That’s my good boy,” you hummed with a sly grin on your lips and Adam simply turned his head away, facing the wall instead of you as he mumbled a weak, “Eat dick.” And usually you’d drop to your knees and do him the favor, but the first man seemed kinda spent at that moment so instead you gave him time to recover as your wings wrapped around the taller male to push him off the chair and into your arms.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam x male reader #male reader #adam x y/n #adam x reader #adam x you

[pictureinme]

kinktober day viii. VIRGINITY - eli sunday

word count: ~1k tags: breast play, creampie masterlist | ao3

“Oh, look at that…”

Eli smiles with faux innocence as he gazes upon your sleeping form, donned in a thin nightgown for the hot summer nights. He had been late coming home, he could tell you tried your best to stay up for him– you weren’t even under the sheets, much less using a pillow. Curled up like a puppy, he thought.

The two of you had been married for only a week now, but churchly duties come first before any such… husbandly ones. Eli was saving that very duty for you tonight but of course, there was always a barrage of holy questions when he’d rather do anything else.

He rids himself of his shoes and unbuttons his shirt before kneeling next to your resting face, “Let me see your beautiful eyes, (Y/N).”

You stir, only waking as he squeezes your arm slightly. Eli grins as you squint sleepily at him and your smile grows, “Good morning…”

“Not quite, my love,” he gets up onto the bed, hovering over you. “I just wanted to see my pretty wife.”

Eli traces your cheek with a cold finger, and you shiver as you almost fully wake up, “I wanted to stay up for you, I wanted… tonight to be the night.”

His eyes widen, but his expression quickly turns to one of pure warmth, “I… have to admit, that was my true intention for waking you.”

You grin and pull him down by the collar to kiss him sweetly. He laughs into the embrace, but his hands begin to wander to caress your arms– rather roughly. It isn’t unwelcome in the slightest, you felt just as eager to ‘consummate your holy matrimony–’ that was Eli’s way of skirting around the subject, using the more flowery language to describe it. You would prefer ‘making love’ or, when in the proper mood, ‘fuck,’ but he’d have none of that as a man of God.

“I need you,” his hot breath tickles your ear as he makes his way to kiss gently at your neck, “Desperately, my love. May I?”

“Please, Eli.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice as he unceremoniously crawls off of you to rid himself of the rest of his clothing– he needs to be one with you, no manmade barriers would come between your embrace. You follow quickly, only needing to pull your white nightgown over your head and toss it onto the floor.

This wasn’t the first time he had seen your bare self, but this time, Eli practically jumped you once he saw your breasts, “Beautiful, so beautiful.”

You look down at his hardness grinding against you as he explores your body, and mewl at the idea of it being inside of you, “Please… get on with it, I can’t wait.”

“Just let me do this first, love.”

Eli leans down to lick at your breasts, nipping ever so lightly on their curves. You mewl at the time he takes with each of them, memorizing every aspect of them, lest he forget. His other hand kneads the other as he bites gently around your nipple– it feels amazing. Eli’s length continues to rock against your thigh, and you try your best to maneuver it closer to your own arousal.

His tongue flits over your hardened nipples one last time before he moves up to kiss your lips again, “Are you… ready?”

You nod rather quickly, the promise of pleasure after all these years of pining clouding whatever shame you could have possibly felt at this moment. The nervousness inside of you dulls when you see Eli smile as he kneels before your entrance– you feel loved and desired. You could see his hands shaking slightly when he positioned himself in front of you, the tip of his length so close, yet so far.

“I’m ready, Eli.”

He nods, trying to rid himself of any fears he may be holding onto. He pushes inside you, the wetness of your arousal only doing so much to lessen the stretch. You watch as his entirety fits inside of you– it is hypnotic as much as it is painful. A moan erupts from your throat as he’s sheathed to the hilt, Eli’s breathing ragged as ever.

“You’re so…” His eyes are shut tightly, “Warm, and tight, my love.”

Your hips move on their own, desperate to feel more of him. He begins to move slowly, in and out, little moans escaping his throat with even the most minor of movements. You spread your legs even further, wrapping them around his body– that’s when Eli’s eyes finally open to gaze upon the woman he married. His thrusts increase in pace as you meet his gaze, your blown-out bedroom eyes meeting his practically crazed ones.

“Oh, God,” Eli cries out as you clench down, “I don’t, oh– I don’t know if I’ll last.”

A part of you didn’t want him to. “It’s okay, it’s okay…”

Your gentle voice elicits a pathetic moan to crack out from his throat, and his head lolls back as he chases his promised pleasure. You move your hand down to rub at your unattended clit, wanting to see him fall apart– all because of you. Who could resist such a delectable power play?

Eli stutters in his movements, his expression looking almost pained– he was close, and you wanted him inside.

“Come on, come inside of me, love…”

His eyes shut yet again as he lets out a rather high-pitched moan as he releases inside of you– the warmth of it only encouraging you to get off quicker. You feel your peak approaching as you watch his chest, glistening with sweat, rise and fall rapidly. Eli watches with nothing but love in his eyes as you whimper into your orgasm.

#eli sunday x reader #paul dano x reader #eli sunday smut #paul dano smut #kinktober 2023

[elodieunderglass]

Referring to you "anxieties of the culture" horror tropes post, I just watched the 1990 adaptation of IT and this comes less than a month after watching both Kolchak movies & starting the TV show. What do you think it was about the late-70s/early-80s that led to "the killer is a monster that hibernates for a set number of years before returning to perform the killings again, as a grim echo of the past, and it's up to the heroes to stop it now before it rears its ugly head again"? There's gotta be some "pass-the-buck" crisis that PEAKED in that time period, something that was a long time coming before that and may or may not have continued since. I don't think it's climate change, that wasn't really at Critical Mass yet until the HFC hairspray crisis of the mid-80s. Your thoughts?

(In reference to this post: https://www.tumblr.com/elodieunderglass/729604545735458816)

Oh that is SO interesting! I also like the Horrors of the Past that Re-Emerge. You get them in fantasy too. To some extent they’re quite nice, because they displace responsibility, allowing the heroes to grapple with something distanced. necromantically resurrected Zombie Nazis will always be a more appealing enemy, for a broad market, than your present-day actual real life QAnon uncle. You can blow up an Ancient Horror as much as you like, can’t you? You don’t need to worry about the tricky present-day political circumstances that birthed the serial killer if it’s actually an ancient time-travelling monster. Monsters are often articulated and described and used because they are “safe” in this way: a displaced thing that can be used. Separate from us in species, appearance, home planet, history of origin, motives, spacetime - the farther they are from us and our shared background, the more justifiable it is to nuke them from orbit, to make a splashy movie.

HOWEVER. As I said in that post - “horror reflects social anxieties” is a SUPER well-described piece of media study and you can read proper writing about that anywhere. I encourage you to seek it out! They say it much better than I do.

I also said in that post that I, myself, don’t watch horror/movies/film. It isn’t due to contempt for the genre, or fear of the content - I just can’t get into it or get immersed, which defeats the point of an immersive genre meant to provoke response. (For example, despite being explicitly told that I would love Stranger Things Season 4 and that I was required to write fic about it for a friend, I gave out at the beginning of season 2; despite being really fond of Welcome to Night Vale at a formative time of my life, I dropped out before StrexCorp. And those are things I generally liked, wanted to consume, and knew I would enjoy! It’s a me problem, and I’m not bothered by it. I am TOO BUSY.)

That’s just to say that I could spitball some thoughts, but I’d be out of my depth.

But here’s an idea. A very small minority of people in the notes took offence to me having meta thoughts about horror when I don’t consume the genre - and worse, saying them out loud, while also openly admitting that I’m out of my depth and would prefer an expert to say it better. “YOU are a COWARD,” they say. “The audacity of commenting on a trend in a genre that you don’t even watch.” “You complain so much but don’t even watch these films” “imagine writing all this with such a bad attitude about horror.” etc.

I think those people have effectively volunteered to write you an essay. They clearly have the horror-consuming chops! Perhaps not the reading comprehension … or analysis skills… but they definitely watch a lot more horror media than I do, so why not give them a crack at it? (This is jokes, don’t bother them.)

Alternatively - there are a lot of clever and savvy people with good takes around here, so they’re welcome to spin out some answers on this post.

[propertyofwhitney67]

Extra Help

M!Winter x AFAB!Reader

Words: 761

TW: teacher/student, cockwarming

Note: I got really horny and needed this old man so here we are

Inspo post

I’d been teasing him the entire class period. Subtly parting my legs every once in a while, showing off my wet cunt. Even occasionally reaching down and playing with myself when I knew he was watching. I could tell he was getting worked up. I’m surprised he hasn’t pulled me aside like he normally does, forcing me into a chastity belt for the rest of the day.

“Y/n. Meet me after school, we need to talk about your grades.” Not his best excuse, I was the best in class and shouldn’t be worried about my grades.

I smirked and nodded, “Yes sir.” He acknowledged me with a nod and returned to preparing for his next class.

Robin nudged me with his elbow on the way out of class, “What’s that about?” Sometimes he’s too curious for his own good. “You get great grades.”

I chuckled and waved him off, “Probably just a chance for extra credit or something.”

After school I didn’t bother changing out of my school uniform, just quickly walking to Winter’s classroom. I stopped short of the door and politely knocked, “Come in.” 

I entered the classroom, closing the door behind me. “You wanted to see me?” I dropped my bag on a chair and stood in front of his desk. “Did I do something wrong, sir?” I asked, feigning innocence.

Winter sighed, “You’re such a pain sometimes, Y/n.”

“Yet you still can’t get enough.” I joked and walked around his desk, standing beside him. “Do you need any help?” I made a show of bending over and leaning on his desk. 

He put a hand on my bare upper thigh before picking up a pen, “Though I’d have you help me grade some papers, it’ll keep you out of trouble for a while.” He handed me the pen and gestured to the pile of papers, “You’re a smart girl, you should know all the correct answers.”

I pouted, “Really? I thought we could have some fun.”

“Maybe if you do as you’re told.” He told me a matter a factly before pulling me into his lap. “Do you think you can do that, Y/n?”

I huffed but nodded, “Yes sir.”

He wrapped a hand around my waist and readjusted me on his lap, “Good girl.” I hummed happily at his praise and quickly got to grading the papers, wanting to get the boring part over with.

Winter seemed content to let his hands roam my body while I graded the papers. He was quiet for the most part, only grunting when I moved around too much or when he corrected a mistake I missed. I felt him harden under me, “Sir?” I asked coyly, shifting in his lap.

He cleared his throat, “Stand up.”

I smirked, dropping the pen and standing as instructed. I didn’t bother turning around as I heard him undo his pants, knowing what was going to happen. He lifted my skirt and slowly guided me back down onto his lap. I gasped, feeling his cock against my slit, “Winter…”

“Shh…” Winter shushed me, not wanting to draw the attention of anyone who was passing by the classroom. He doesn’t want to be caught fraternizing with one of his students.

I moaned lowly while he groaned as he slipped his cock in, “Fuck...” 

Winter rubbed circles on my hip, “Watch your language, it’s not becoming of a young lady.” I knew he was only half joking but I didn’t have a comeback, I couldn’t think straight with him inside me. “Keep grading.” He instructed while handing me the pen. I whined but took it and went back to grading.

It’s always nice sitting in his lap and cockwarming him. I can relax when I’m with him, “What’s on your mind?”

“I wish we could spend more time together…” I explained my thoughts while fidgeting with the pen.

He softly kissed my shoulder, “I know.” Winter’s busy and we don’t get to spend much intimate time together. He took the pen from my hand and put it in its proper place on the desk, “I think you’ve done enough.”

A pit formed in my chest, fearing I said something wrong. I took a deep breath and stood up, fixing my skirt and stepping away, “No.” I turned back, surprised. “I still have some extra time to spend with you.” 

I smiled happily and hopped up on his desk, spreading my legs and giving him a perfect view of my cunt. “How much time?”

He chuckled and shook his head, “You’re a handful.”

𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

#dol #dol x reader #dol winter #winter the history teacher #winter dol #degrees of lewdity #winter degrees of lewdity #degrees of lewdity winter the history teacher #degrees of lewdity winter #degrees of lewdity fanfiction #degrees of lewdity fanfic #degrees of lewdity imagine #degrees of lewdity imagines #dol fanfiction #dol fanfic #winter x reader #dol winter x reader #my writing

[goddessofroyalty]

Fandom: One Piece 

I wrote the dialogue for this in the ZoSan server while we were chatting about alpha!Zoro taking care of pregnant omega!Sanji but the two still bantering earlier this week and because I finished reading two of the four super long documents for work I needed to read by the end of this week I thought to reward myself by turning it into actual fic.  

Pairing: Zoro/Sanji  

Tags: mpreg, omegaverse, canon-typical slightly mean playful teasing  

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

Sanji leans back against Zoro when his mate comes up behind him, the swordsman’s strong arms wrapping around him so his hands can caress at his stomach heavy with their child. Despite knowing exactly what kinds of violence they are capable of inflicting Sanji never felt all that surprised at the gentle touch they managed when it came to what will soon be their first pup.  

“Want me to take the weight for a little?” Zoro asks, resting his head on Sanji’s shoulder.  

Sanji hums at it.  

“Don’t ask stupid questions.” He blames the mosshead’s stupid genes for how heavy the pup is. And as such the bastard can take a bit of responsibility for the weight of them and give Sanji’s poor back a break.  

His comment earns him a huff but Zoro’s fingers find purchase under the swell as he lifts their pup up and off Sanji’s hips.  

“Oh thank fuck,” Sanji mutters. Melting in relief as he lets more of his weight fall onto Zoro. He knows the alpha can take it and it is becoming rare the moments where he doesn’t at least slightly hurt from the pregnancy. It’s all worth it, he knows, but the relief, even momentarily, is appreciated.  

Zoro presses a kiss against his forehead and Sanji can feel the grin that forms next. Bracing for the inevitable dumbass comment.  

“This all that’s giving you grief? This is nothing cook!” Zoro teases but he doesn’t move to let go of the weight he has taken. His thumbs rubbing against the bunched fabric of Sanji’s shirt where they rest.  

“Nothing!?” Sanji snaps because even if he knows Zoro means nothing by it he still won’t let the insult slide. “You try having it on you 24-7 while your ankles have swollen twice their size!” 

As much as it pained him, he had given up on his proper shoes a month ago and accepted life in slippers and slides.  

Zoro is quiet in apparent, and possibly, no, probably, put-on, contemplation of what Sanji had said.  

“Nah.” Is apparently what he decides on. Joined with a nuzzle against Sanji’s cheek. “You’re better at it than I would be.”  

A part of Sanji wants to tell him to fuck off for once again trying to dodge some chore by claiming Sanji’s better at it just because he’s a fucking omega. He doesn’t - mostly because Zoro actually might leave and Sanji’s not ready for the weight to be back on him just yet.  

“They’re only going to get bigger you know,” Sanji says. Because that’s what he’s been thinking about lately. Complete with the mourning of the sacrifice of his figure that goes along with it. “There’s still another month to go.”  

Zoro gives a very articulate grunt at that.  

“Guess I’ll have to do this more than. Can’t have you collapsing on us.”  

#zosan #one piece zosan #zoro x sanji #roronoa zoro #vinsmoke sanji #mpreg #omegaverse #One Piece #One Piece mpreg #One Piece omegaverse #I accidently a ficlet #The amount of times I nearly included the line #not that [Sanji] is complianing #was high #but no he is doing a lot of complaining #mostly at Zoro #all discomfort is Zoro's fault #and he's fine with complaining about that #even if once his perfect princess is born #he will never complain about it again

[andofone]

SNS fic rec

I have found lots of SNS fics that I think deserve even more love and recognition, so buckle in and here we go!

-PS, if you don’t want your fic on this list, I will take it off.

---

O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou an idiot? by Skyheaven

Naruto thought he could impress his crush by landing the role of Romeo in their school play. With Sakura playing Juliet, it would be the perfect way to get close to her. So how is it that he ended up being forced to play the modern version titled Romeo and Julian with his arch rival Sasuke instead?

(It’s a full, flushed out fic. It was a joy to read through)

-

(This is part two - a POV change to see what Sasuke is thinking, I strongly recommend reading after the first.)

And Julian is the moon by Skyheaven.

Ever wonder what Sasuke went through when he got stuck playing the romantic lead together with Naruto in their school play about Romeo and Julian? Here's the answer.

A pov change of the fic 'Oh Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou an idiot?'

---

The Frog Dealer by lilypheria

Naruto’s trusty frog wallet breaks down after years of faithful service, and someone delivers a new one to his office. Naruto is elated, not caring if it’s proper for the Seventh Hokage of Konoha to wander around with a wallet like that. But then he starts to get even more deliveries to his office—frog-shaped keychains, fridge magnets, everything you can think of.

Naruto has no clue who has found out about his affection towards frogs. But the gift giver is closer than he thinks…

(It’s a adorable one-shot. What else could you possibly want.)

---

Unrequited: sometimes it is, and sometimes it isn't by KizuKatana

Naruto hates to hurt people's feelings. So when Hinata puts him on the spot about dating her, he doesn't want to come straight out and tell her he doesn't like her that way. Instead, he comes up with a poorly thought out idea to tell her he is dating someone already. All he needs to do to convince her is to show her a photo of the guy. He just needs to get a picture of someone so ridiculously hot she will know it's hopeless. He actually has someone in mind, a guy he'd had a one-sided thing for from his gym. Although, the guy is sort of an ass and probably wouldn't agree to posing for a picture. Naruto decides to ask him anyway. What's he got to lose?

(Another wonderful, simple one-shot. Easy and very nice to digest.)

---

In Good Company by weialala

This will sound a little ridiculous, no matter how Sasuke phrases it. I see dead people is embarrassingly tacky, and I'm half-spirit seems like something Sakura might say when she's stoned sky high. So he settles for a shrug.

(This is a gem of a fic. Highly recommend.)

---

Iced coffee with extra base by Dotec_1

Working in a cafe certainly isn’t the worst thing, that is if you find a certain raven a few tables down.

(Not too long, just 25,000 words and a good plot.)

---

Fire & Wind by Cyllia

Wind and fire: it's the most powerful combination of elements there was. So when Sasuke, the most talented fire elementalist in his year, pairs with Naruto, who has the greatest air element seen in centuries, they should've been the most formidable team in history. Yet they can't seem to win one match.

(OH MY GOD, okay, this has got to be one of my favorites on this list. And these are all some of my favorite.)

---

all i want to do, just like this by lunoiere (aeon_uriel)

"Good morning," he whispered, content, and peaceful. 

Naruto's nose twitched, still asleep. His lips were pursed to form a pout that somehow looked even more childish in this state. 

Sasuke's smile got wider and wider and something in his chest bloomed and exploded.

 Unbidden, a thought passed by: he loved that man so much it was unreal. 

Sasuke gets another reminder that waking up with arms around his waist and the smell of sunshine filling his lungs means opening his eyes to yet another good dream.(Because Naruto is there and he’s never leaving.)

---

 I hope this gives you some good reads!

And if you want more, check out another SNS rec I created here

#ao3 #ao3 fic rec #sasunaru #SasuNaruSasu #sns #ao3 is why i dont sleep #fic rec #naruto #Sasuke Uchiha #sasuke is amazing #Naruto Uzumaki #narusasu #amazing things #some of these people should be authors fr #enjoy

[yoongsisbae]

Run Run Run - Seoul Close (Part 5)

A zombie apocalypse breaks out and you’re stuck on a plane with none other than…BTS! Oh, you thought because you were an Army that would help you survive? Girl think again. OT7 BTS Zombie Apocalypse AU / BTS member x reader slow burn

WELL I'M NOT DEAD. MY CHARACTERS ON THE OTHER HAND...JUST KIDDING. LET ME COPE WITH HUMOR.

Warnings: death, monsters, blood, fighting, killing, gory details, some toxic nationalism, mention of SA-nothing graphic, angst, smut, handjob, fingering, bathtime shenanigans

Word Count: 21.5k (I actually got block limited for the first time on this chapter. I hope the long chapter makes up for the wait!)

---

Run.

Run.

Run.

Keep your back straight, your shoulders relaxed, move your arms, breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth, and most importantly, don’t trip!

AND RUN!!!

You look back. You expected to see a lot of them, but not this much...

‘It’s gonna okay it’s gonna okay it’s gonna okay,’ you repeat desperately, as long as you keep running!

No time to scream or even cry, you need that energy…

To run!

You hear the labored breaths of the men around you, such a stark contrast from the horrifying growls of the undead behind you, a group of zombies you all had accidently awakened from their mindless ambling.

But there is quite a distance, fortunately. And if you just keep ru-

“Ow,” you grunt. You collided into a back, knocking the wind out of you.

“Wh-” You are silenced at the sight in front of you. There is a hoard of zombies and fresh corpses, the monsters are crouched over the bodies, pulling apart and devouring what remains.

You all stare at the gruesome sight. No words are needed and you are too winded to form proper sentences anyways, so you push the closest person to your left into the grass, which so happened to be BTS leader, Kim Namjoon. 

You keep pushing him until he takes the hint. He yanks on who he can reach too, giving silent orders. ‘RUN THIS WAY!’

If you’re lucky, you can create enough distance between you and the monsters behind you that have already caught a scent of your blood before the preoccupied ones begin to notice you. And if you were really lucky, the former might just give up once they smelled the scraps of someone else’s meal.

Too bad luck is rarely on your side.

The feasting zombies smell a new meal instantly.

Dammit! 

Keep running! 

Run for cover, run into the woods, run as far as you can away from them.

Hongcheon is a fraction of the size of Seoul and yet there are already so many more of them than you had expected. 

So many lives gone. So many families torn apart, hearts broken, young lives cut short…

A city destroyed. 

You don’t have time to cry over it now. Maybe later, when you’re safe, you can think of the children you saw, thirsty for blood, eyes sunken in, tiny bodies brutalized into monstrosities. Later you can agonize over their stolen youth, wonder where their parents are, if they remained a family, feasting together even in death.

Right now, you have to…

Run.

-

“Run over there!”

It hurts to move, to breathe. Your head hurts, your chest hurts, you’re terrified, worried sick, barely able to think, running on adrenaline. Hoseok grabs your hand and pulls you along. It makes you grateful, yet it makes you worry more. He should run ahead of you, you feel like a burden, you feel your heart clench when he squeezes your hand. 

You can’t help but think about the others, even now, you should have cherished those moments more, the smiles and laughter and banter and good times. Taehyung’s jokes, Jungkook’s bored singing, an infectious melody that had the others and even you humming along. Hoseok’s animated retelling of the events at Sutasa temple that the leader and eldest two had missed, making you and the others laugh along, the leader’s slightly impressed and very dismayed expressions and Seokjin whining over his sore feet.  

How wonderful it was when sore feet were the only thing to complain about.

You should have enjoyed those days leading up to reaching Hongcheon city more. When killing zombies felt like a team building exercise. Remember that? Tallying up your kills. Like it was a game, like it wasn’t the worst thing imaginable you had to do to another person, because they were people at one point... 

You look at the scared tired faces of the men around you and think how easy it could be to lose them to the same fate, a tally in a game strangers play not knowing how much love that growling decaying body once held… the jokes they told, the songs they sung, the stories they experienced, the sacrifices they endured…

You should have taken life more seriously, maybe now it wouldn’t feel so abysmal, karma for your blase us vs. them mentality. How stupid, you of all people should know better.

No, it wasn’t you and them, it was you and your future staring back with yellow clouded eyes. You stare back and feel nothing but regret.

And guilt.

And fear.

So you run faster, gulp down hot air, let it burn your lungs and let it sting your belly, because you now know the pain of living is always better than death, always!

You follow the others into the first house you come across where you quickly barricade yourselves in.

One two three four five six…No. 

Namjoon pats you on the shoulder. You almost scream in surprise, but you were trained now to only scream into pillows or under water, places it would be hard for them to hear you, not when you actually wanted to. 

Seokjin is behind him. Seven, eight. 

You all made it. Even Dev. Fuck, you’re actually relieved.

You relax only a little. Everyone looks beyond exhausted. You all need food, you need water. You doubt this small abandoned house has enough of anything for all of you.

There’s black blood on your arms and clothes from where you had to defend yourself from the zombies who came too close. The others have blood on them, and you wished there was more light so you could properly make sure the blood wasn’t theirs. 

“Is everyone okay?” you whisper. No one is just ‘okay,’ but they knew what you meant.

They pull at their clothes, checking their bodies. They all nod. You glare at Dev, and then eye Taehyung who nods again. Now that you’re stationary you realize how sweaty you are, how tired. You fall to your knees, finally able to rest.

Namjoon walks cautiously through the house, making sure the coast is clear and there are no residents remaining, alive or otherwise.

As you rest you listen to doors sliding open, Namjoon’s footsteps as he makes his way through the house. The others are quiet, catching their breaths, holding their bodies against doors, coughing quietly, rubbing their muscles, and of course, listening intently to the sounds outside…

The scratching, clawing, growling…

“Clear. Two Beds.” Namjoon returns.

“I’ll check for food.” Yoongi stands up, wiping the sweat off his forehead.

“I’ll take first watch,” Namjoon says solemnly.

“Me too,” you add. He doesn’t argue with you, even if he does look like he wants to tell you to rest instead.

“Second.” Jimin and Taehyung say in unison.

It’s safe for now. What will it be like once the sun is high again? Better, worse? How long can you keep this up? 

Going through the city might have taken a couple of hours tops in the car, but you didn’t have that now, not even the horses…Those poor horses…

How many days will it take to get out now that you are on foot, you wonder. You can’t even bring yourself to look forward to it either, already imagining how much worse Seoul will be. 

You can’t help but think the situation you’ve put yourselves in is looking rather helpless.

You keep your eyes locked on a small divot in the flooring, trying to stay calm. Even if you had the time now, becoming emotional in this moment would be too dangerous. You have to focus and be ready for anything.

“We made it,” Namjoon whispers, placing his hand on your shoulder. You’re impressed with his optimism, you try not to feel worried, but it's for that exact reason you are so worried. You made it this time, but what about next time? What if something happens to him, what if you never hear those words again? Namjoon just might be all the optimism you have left.

You eat cold portions of canned food Yoongi prepares. 

You’re not mad at him anymore, almost dying has always had that kind of effect on relationships, but when he hands you your portion you still can’t meet his eyes, thinking of the conversation you had before entering the city.

---

“Why did you kiss me?”

“Huh?” Yoongi looks anywhere but in your direction.

Now you’re feeling even more wary. It took Herculean courage for you to even ask, now he’s going to make you ask again?

“Nevermind.”

You walk away from the rapper, back to tending to your horse while the large animals rest. You couldn’t help but notice the rapper has been rather aloof around you, more than usual, since kissing you. You tried not to take it personally, to not feel hurt every time he seemed to quickly shut down any conversation you start with him, but ugh, why did he go and kiss you then if he was just going to act like this?! 

It takes you all morning, right before the group is about to start your travels again, when you confront Yoongi one last time.

“Why did you kiss me?” You mutter, hoping he would respond this time. ‘Just say it was the heat of the moment,’ you think, so you can both move on, get over it. So you can accept it was just a one time thing, a moment of weakness, you would never hold it against Yoongi, but this, the way he’s acting now, you definitely do have a problem with!

Unfortunately, ears whom you hadn’t intended to hear perked up at the new information.

“You kissed y/n?” Hoseok crashes in between the pair of you.

“No, I didn’t!” Yoongi hisses immediately.

“You didn’t?” Hoseok tilts his head.

“He didn’t.” You repeat quietly.

“But you just said-”

“I didn't say that!” you laugh incredulously. “You misheard me. I asked why did he pick me… PICK me, is what I meant.”

“Pick you for what?” Hoseok looks between both of you in disbelief.

“Uhh…” you hesitate, trying to come up with something credible while Yoongi takes the opportunity to scurry away. “Pick me for the um next night shift-”

“He picked you? But you always volunteer,” Hoseok says accusingly.

“Okay, well, this time, I didn’t. And so uh I wanted the night off. Anyways, it doesn’t matter anymore! I don’t care! forget it!” you ramble angrily, making Hoseok back away this time. 

Yoongi waits by the car while you glare at him. He’s definitely ignoring you now, like you’re some deranged saesang, and it’s annoying as hell! He kissed you, didn’t he? Yes, you might have kissed him back, and…

You remember the way you melted into him, Yoongi’s body pressed against yours, the way you chased his lips, how you wanted more. You shouldn’t have done that. You shouldn’t have…liked it so much…dammit! Why did he kiss you?!

Yoongi answers you the next day. “It was a mistake. I’m sorry,” Yoongi whispers to you, bumping into your shoulder. 

You wince. “So you kissed me, by accident?” you ask.

“I shouldn’t have done it. I thought you had died, and, I…I don’t know…” Yoongi looks around anxiously, gaze stopping on Seokjin who is animatedly giving reasons why he shouldn’t have to sit in the back of the car this time.

You grind your teeth. This is the answer you wanted, why do you feel so crestfallen? “I understand.”

“You do?”

You look over at Yoongi. “Yes,” you smile wearily. “How do I say this? I get it, you wouldn’t normally have done that under normal circumstances with someone like me, I just wanted to make sure...” you pause. “So you want to forget it? Okay!” you say resolutely, “I’ll pretend it never happened.” You give him a more confident grin.

Your smile falls when you notice his red ears and tinged cheeks. “Yoongi?”

Yoongi looks like he’s holding his breath, holding something in for sure. “That’s not-” Yoongi cautiously lifts his arm up, knuckles touching the side of your face.

“Yoongi?” you repeat, holding your breath.

He almost looks like he might kiss you again, almost…but he turns his heel and walks back to the car, taking a seat in the back and settling an argument between Jin and Taehyung.

You frown, crossing your arms, you guess he is going to expect you to forget that just happened as well, you sigh, frown deepening. 

Maybe you are being delusional, he answered your question, you should just leave it at that, you think. You have bigger things to worry about.

-

You spent days pushing the car, hoping to find an exit to a gas station. All that energy wasted.

“You’ve been ignoring me.” Yoongi accuses under his breath.

You have not not been doing anything of the sort! You still acknowledge Yoongi’s presence, just like you do that asshole Dev, yeah.

You frown. “You have been acting weird,” you cross your arms. All day every day you can feel Yoongi’s eyes boring into the back of your head when you talk to the others, and yet he refuses to even look in your direction when you get anywhere near him! 

“I have not!”

“Well then I haven’t been ignoring you!”

Yoongi sighs. “Well it's clear to the others something is up between us and that is exactly what I was trying to avoid.”

You narrow your eyes on him. You think you finally understand him, Yoongi was ashamed of kissing you. You want to yell at him, but you can’t…not when you feel something akin to disappointment clawing at your insides, a small voice inside you confirming all your insecurities.

“Why would there be something up? Nothing is up, absolutely nothing,” you frown. 

“Stop.”

“I can’t stop because I haven’t started.”

“You are so annoying sometimes.” His hand holds your jaw, thumb rubbing the dirt away from your face tenderly.

You flinch away, “Is that why you didn’t kiss me?”

“Listen, I just don’t want to burden you-”

“Well, I’m very unburdened, can’t you tell? I mean, what could burden me? I have all the food I could want,” you say sarcastically, “I’m not running from monsters that want to eat me alive and I certainly don't care that you did not kiss me!” you hiss.

Yoongi covers your mouth. “Are you guys okay?” Jungkook says hesitantly, walking up to the pair of you.

Yoongi pulls his hands away as if he were burned. You roll your eyes at him, trying to not focus on the sharp pain in your chest, daggers embedding themselves inside you, each one confirming your worst insecurities. 

“Everything is great, Kookie,” you say, acting sweeter than your usual self, grabbing the youngest and leading him away before either man notices your watery eyes. 

---

“You can rest against me,” Namjoon murmurs, watching as you sway and try to keep your head up as the others sleep.

You laugh softly, “If I do that, I will definitely fall asleep. When I’m close to you, you make me feel safe. And I get sleepy,” you add, yawning. You rest your head on the wall, smiling back when he smiles. “Ahh, see, I can’t look at you,” you shake your head, trying to shake away your tiredness too.

“So you’re not all the way over there because I smell?” Namjoon pulls at your sleeve, trying to coax you closer.

“You smell? Damn, I must smell horrible then.” You sniff your worn and tattered clothes. 

“I saw a well outside, we can take advantage of it tomorrow, get some water to clean ourselves up.”

“A bath?” you wonder out loud, unable to hide your excitement. “Finally,” you sigh.

“Well err it’s gonna have to be a cold bath-”

“Mhm. A bath.” You ignore his warning, nothing can change your excitement. Let it be freezing cold, you will happily soak yourself until your fingers shrivel up.

After a while Namjoon speaks up again. “I think maybe we should stay here for a bit. Once the zombies disperse, we can go out for supplies, maybe scout for a better house to crash.”

“Here, in the city? For how long?”

“Maybe,” he hesitates. “A couple weeks? Or…a couple…months?”

“M-Months?!” you gasp, surprised.

“Look at them.” He gestures to the bodies sleeping on the floor around you, none of them wanted to leave the room for the beds, no one wanted to lose sight of each other. “We need to rest, we need supplies…we need to build ourselves back up.”

“Shouldn’t we, um, get out of Hongcheon first?” you ask worriedly. “I feel like…these monsters here are…different. They seem more relentless, don’t you feel?” you groan, thinking aloud. “Why are they so energetic? We’re the live ones! Shouldn’t it be the other way around?” They seem…well fed, you think, grimacing. “You think it’s a good idea to stay?”

“I don’t know.” Namjoon looks around anxiously at his friends, worried for their safety. “I don’t know.”

“Okay,” you whisper, reaching for his hand, you stroke his knuckles soothingly, deciding to follow Namjoon’s plan. “We’ll stay here for a while, and take it day by day. As long as we’re together, that’s what is most important, right?”

Namjoon lets out the breath he was holding, relaxing now that he had your support. In truth, he was too scared to move forward right now. He just needs some time, and Namjoon feels the whole group might do well with some rest too. You have all been in flight mode since first entering Hongcheon. Even you have chosen to forgo fighting, overwhelmed by the hoards of zombies and responsibilities to your friends.

-

Namjoon shakes Taehyung awake as second shift starts. Jimin rubs his tired eyes, sitting next to you, ready to take your place. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you whisper.

He nods his head to the group cuddled together like sardines, “Go rest, I got it from here.”

You hesitate. It’s becoming harder and harder to sleep. You dreaded the moments where you weren’t awake and alert for danger. Jimin sees your hesitation, he opens up his arms, “Do you want to stay with me until you’re ready to fall asleep?” You nod, relaxing slightly. 

Jimin is too good to you, it just makes you worry more, it just adds another dagger full of guilt sticking out from your chest. It all feels so heavy. You sink into Jimin, sorry to him for everything you’ve put him through. He hugs you back so tenderly you want to cry.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

Jimin smiles, enjoying your warmth against him. You cling onto him, cuddled to his side, keeping your head buried into your chest, scared if you look at Jimin you’ll do something you regret, already so desperate to make him happy. But you can’t give into your feelings. You cannot bear to think how frightened you would become then.

---

“Is it true? Is it true? You…you…YOU’RE SO BEAUTIFUL THAT I’M SCARED.”

The road was abandoned, everything around you was at a standstill since that fateful day, only the trees danced with you, swaying in the wind. You let your bike zig and zag as you hummed one of your favorite songs happily. 

There were cars still on the road but the engines had long ago stalled out, the drivers ran away. 

It was so quiet. It was calm…peaceful even, serene…

And if there was a noise, it would likely be a member of the undead gurgling for brains. Noise now only served as a warning. 

You bike slowly, looking around at the bright landscape in awe. It had been too long since you saw green, trees, grass, flowers... 

Stuck in the airport for months you had become used to dirt and tarmac, withered plants in pots and only weeds surviving. But now you realized, lots of things survived. It was so beautiful, mesmerizing.

And you were about to be even more mesmerized.

“Oh my god, oh my god!” you laugh, biking fast before coming to a complete stop. “Y-You’re alive!”

The stranger looks at you, mouth agape. 

You kick your bike stand out, running up to him. “Oh! You don’t understand me!” you quickly switch to Korean. “Sorry! Hi, good afternoon! I didn’t mean to frighten you! I’m just– wow– I’m surprised! I haven’t seen another person in...I just...hi!” You resist the urge to hug him, noticing how skittish he already seems, instead bowing ninety degrees. “My name is y/n. Are you okay?”

“You…you speak Korean.”

“You do too, lucky us,” you laugh awkwardly. 

He looks around, shuffling from side to side. “Where did you come from, foreigner? Are you alone? Do you have any food?”

Your smile slowly falls. You had gotten too excited, you hadn’t paid attention, hadn’t noticed his dirty clothes hanging off his very thin frame, the shiftiness in his attitude, the strange look in his eyes, he didn’t seem…well. 

“N-No, I, uh…I came from the airport.” You look behind you, back in the direction you came from.

It only took a second for you to take your eyes off him, and in that second the man decided to attack.

“Hey!” You stumble backward as he tries to pull off your backpack. “Get off! Stop!”

You were used to zombies attacking you, trying to bite you. If it had been a zombie, you would have yanked out your knife before even thinking, stopped the monster immediately and been on your way. 

But a human attacking you? Someone living? 

It caught you so off guard you couldn’t react. You fall on the ground trying to get away.

The stranger lunges at your bike instead, still standing abandoned by you. You scramble to your feet, grabbing on to the handle bars as he tries to mount your bike. 

You start hitting him with your fist, yanking on the bike in between punches to get it away from him. 

‘Is this really happening?!’ you think. You just met and he’s trying to steal your bike?!’

He starts hitting you back, yelling in his weakened efforts. That noise was too similar, and you were bitterly reminded of the airport. You grunt, getting winded from your fighting. Yanking hard on your bike, you maneuver it out of his grasp, only for him to attack you again. 

Even in his weakened state, his adrenaline had managed to make him strong and combative. If you’re not careful, you could get seriously injured, probably left for dead, without your bike, without anyone, dying alone and abandoned…

Again?! Fuck this, fuck him!

You put your knife against his throat and he finally stops trying to attack you. You tried to sound threatening when you told him to stop. But the truth was you were terrified, more terrified than you had ever been at the airport. What if he decided to not listen to you? You didn’t think you could go through with it, you couldn’t kill this man.

“Stop! Get away!” you plead, screaming.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m so hungry, I’m sorry! I won’t hurt you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He bows his head, wailing.

You try to steady your hand, but the knife shakes in your grasp. You’ve stopped fighting each other but you can’t seem to catch your breath.

You roll the bike further away from him, arm still outstretched, pointing the knife at him in warning. Your eyes sting with unshed tears, wanting to cry.

You’re sorry too. 

---

You startle, even when Namjoon whispers your name, squeezing your shivering body. “Huh?” You’re lying next to him, you cannot remember when you’ve moved here.

“You were crying in your sleep,” Namjoon says in a concerned hushed voice.

You rub your eyes in your tiredness. It was true, your eyes felt puffy, your cheeks sticky with tears.

You turn your head to look at him, and he looks back at you, concern etched across his brows. Twilight has begun and soon the sun will be up. You sigh, you felt safer in the dark and safest next to Namjoon and the others.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just had a bad dream.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I was dreaming about my bike,” you laugh half-heartedly.

But Namjoon doesn’t laugh. “We all…have them, the nightmares-”

“I know.”

“So you can talk to me..us about it. You don’t have to always keep everything in. It’s not healthy.”

“Okay Doctor Kim.”

Namjoon sighs. He’s too cute when his brows furrow, his hair sticking up from sleeping, you can’t help but giggle. “The monsters I dream about aren’t the dead kind,” you whisper. “Sometimes, I just-” you sigh, “-feel like running away.”

“Run away from us? I would track you down,” Namjoon says.

You can’t help but smile, closing your eyes. “I won’t, I’d be too worried you’ll get yourselves killed without me.” 

He reaches for your cheek, lying his tired arm against you. “I’m scared,” you mumble.

“Why?”

“We’re going to run into more people eventually, what if next time…something horrible happens? Sometimes I feel like I made a mistake. I should have stayed away.” You think back to the first time you encountered him again. “At the time I wanted to hurt you, I wanted revenge, and then…” you mumble, reaching for him in the darkness. “People..are dangerous. You were safer with Kanhgo on the farm.” ‘Maybe everything about this was a mistake, not just Yoongi kissing you,’ you want to tell him.

“I think we met at the right time. You don’t know how it was before, we were all...too close to death, too friendly to the idea, to dying. It was in that house, sitting with us, all the time. Do you understand? You saved m– us.”

You don’t hear what he says next, already falling under sleep, too content next to Namjoon despite the looming danger outside. 

Namjoon stares at your closed eyelids and relaxes, scooting closer to your sleeping frame.

---

You wake up out of breath, body shaking. You couldn’t remember your dream, but from your pounding heart rate, your sweat drenched clothes, and the dread you feel lifting away, you suspect it was awful. You jump when arms grab you, pull you in and hug you tightly. 

“You’re okay.” You hear Jimin mumble against your shoulder, soft and soothing.

You see Namjoon still asleep next to you. The day is out. It’s only the four of you left asleep, the others already awake and going through the house.

“Go back to sleep,” Jimin murmurs. But you can’t, not with all that adrenaline coursing through you now, so you watch Namjoon’s peaceful sleeping face, so close to you. You start memorizing his frown lines and birthmarks and cuts still healing, calming yourself down. 

You make a promise to yourself that when you reach Seoul, when Namjoon finds his family, when you eventually go your separate ways, you’re never going to forget him just like this, your friend and your idol trusting you enough to sleep peacefully while death now stands outside.

---

You raid the town’s fire department in the morning. 

No firetruck anymore to your disappointment. 

But there was an axe left behind in haste, some canned food, bandages and antiseptic; incredibly valuable finds. You grab as many helmets as you can carry, intent on sticking them on a few members’ heads. 

“Hobi!” you call out, “Come here!” Hoseok finds you and lets you dress him up in your newly acquired gear. 

It is just as you suspected, you sigh, head in your palms as you watch Hoseok clog around in heavy boots, rolling up the jacket sleeves.

Hoseok would make the. hottest. firefighter.

 Man, you wish selfies were still a thing.

“What are you guys doing?

You drop a helmet onto Taehyung’s head. “Nothing,” you smile. 

“Alright, enough playing around.” Namjoon says, coming back with a full backpack. You pout, pulling off the huge firefighter jacket you found and offering it to Namjoon, hopeful. He eyes the jacket. “C’mon, it’s definitely your size!” 

“Firefighters your thing, eh?” Seokjin rounds a corner. He looks so dashing decked out in uniform. 

“...Maybe.” you tease. 

“Help!” That’s Jungkook’s voice.

He’s stuck in a corner, fighting off two of the largest zombies you’ve ever seen.

These particular zombies, not only look massive and strong, they are also wearing helmets, protecting their most vulnerable spot, and the exact area you need to access to stop their attack.

How the hell are you going to kill them?!

The axe! Namjoon swings it into one of the zombie’s shoulders, completely dislocating the entire arm, while Jungkook keeps his bat lodged in the zombies’ mouths. 

Namjoon brings the axe down again and again, as if he were hacking at a tree. You grimace, you definitely could not use what came off as firewood. “This is so gross.” You look down at what remains, two heads still animatedly trying to bite your shins.

“Sorry,” you wince, stabbing the heads through the eye quickly.

As you sneak your way back to the house, Taehyung decides to ask you, “Why do you always do that?”

You massage your neck, “Do what?”

“Say you’re sorry. You always do it.”

You smile sadly. “Because I am sorry. It’s not their fault, you know. I am sure a man like that always wanted to help people, not eat them.”

‘Man,’ Taehyung certainly did not consider what that firefighter was reduced to, to be anything close to man. “Well I don’t think they understand you.” 

“Hey! My Korean is not that bad!”

Taehyung bumps your shoulder, “You know what I mean!” he laughs.

“Maybe, maybe not,” you sigh. “Their ears are still there, why wouldn’t they understand? Do you think they aren’t in there anymore?”

“I hope not.” Taehyung shudders.

“I guess we’ll never know until we become one…” you hum.

“Kill me before then.” Taehyung mutters.

You offer him your hand, “Deal.”

“If I become a zombie, put a muzzle on me and keep me as a pet.” Seokjin drapes his arms over you and Taehyung.

“Deal!”

“No way!”

“What about you, y/n?”

“If I become a zombie?” You catch Namjoon staring at you. “I don’t know,” you think back to the airport. “I like to think I would be able to you know, but when it comes down to it, I don’t think I could kill myself…” you shrug. “But if I try to eat you, you do have my permission to-” you swing your arm back and forth, aiming for Seokjin’s head, laughing when he yells at you.

---

“What if we go this way? Closer to the river? That might be safer?”

“What about the school?”

“No, that’s usually where the town would find shelter. If just one of them was bitten…I think we should avoid this whole area.”

“What’s this word?” you point to the character on the small map. You, Namjoon, and Yoongi are looking over the withered piece of paper, trying to find the best place to find shelter before night.

“That’s like a, ‘Government Building.’” Namjoon answers in English. “A town hall.”

“What about that church?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea either.”

“What about this street, with all the stores? We could find a place to stay there. Close to supplies? And close to water!”

“Look! Military base.” Yoongi points to the map.

“That’s so far.”

“Tire shop? We could find a running car?”

“Y/n, can we talk?”

“Jimin, just wait,” Namjoon answers for you, stepping closer to you as you study the map.

You rub your temples. Your head hurts trying to decipher the map, speaking Korean rather than reading it has always been easier for you. “Wherever you want to go, I’ll go.” you massage Namjoon’s shoulder, stepping away. You switch positions with Jin as you make your way to Jimin.

-

“Where’s Jungkook and Tae?”

“Working on the well.”

“Should we go watch them? Stand guard?”

Jimin pulls you back, “They got it, we already made sure it’s safe.”

“Oh, alright,” you tilt your head at him, he’s acting a bit impatient. “Are you okay?”

“I just…you’re always– it’s hard to get your attention,” Jimin swallows.

“What? Well, I’m here now,” you say softly, running your hand down Jimin’s arm until you reach his hand, squeezing it with your own.

Jimin squeezes your hand back. “Come with me,” he says more confidently. Jimin leads you back into the house, inside a bedroom, and then inside…the closet? You stumble into boxes full of someone else’s treasured memories.

“Well the closet wouldn’t have been my first choice.”

“I just wanted uninterrupted time with you.” In this small house, hiding away might be the only way Jimin could be with you alone. “I just want to make sure we definitely won’t be bothered,” Jimin sighs, leaning into clothes.

Clothes! You lean against him, picking a shirt off the hanger. You’re so excited by your find, you don’t notice how tense Jimin gets when your body presses up against him. “This would look good on you!” you hold up the shirt you chose.

Jimin takes a deep breath. “Y/n…”

You freeze when you catch his eyes. “Jimin…”

Oh god, why did you say his name like that? All breathy and high pitched and…needy…oh no, why does he have to look at you like that?!

“Don’t look at me like that,” Jimin murmurs, smirking.

Wait, how are you looking at him? You didn’t have very much of a poker face, despite what you thought. “Huh?”

Why does his lips have to be so soft when he kisses you? How does his tongue do that thing-

“Jimin, we can’t,” you step back.

You definitely did not mean to pull him back with you.

He chuckles against your lips, kissing you deeper.

“Wait.” You are suddenly very aware of how hot and cramped you were. You find the door knob, grateful for the new space to clear your head. “W-We really can’t. We should– We shouldn’t! We shouldn’t-” Why can’t you catch your breath?!

“We definitely shouldn’t,” he jokes, resting his hand on the bed’s post.

You exhale, looking at the empty bed. Not doing things with Jimin sounds very appealing. But you can’t! Why “can’t” you again? Oh yeah-

You sit on the bed, looking up at Jimin.

Jimin who is looking down at you with that tiny pleased smirk he can’t stop showing.

You stand up abruptly. No, a relationship was too risky, even if the threat of being eaten didn’t loom over your heads. And what if...

What if Jimin got tired of you, came to his senses once he reached Seoul and had more options? 

“I thought we agreed to wait until Seoul-”

Waiting looks like the very last thing Jimin wants to do. “What if I don't make it to Seoul?!”

“Don’t say that!” you hiss. Why did he have to say that? Now you feel like crying. You must have looked upset, because Jimin is now looking at you with a mixture of confusion and worry. 

Jimin hugs you close, arms wrapped around you tightly, like he knows you will fall apart if he doesn’t. His lips are trembling against your neck, you can feel your own body trembling against his. 

You are not strong enough to resist him. 

“Please Jimin, all I’m saying is you might feel differently once we get to Seoul-”

“I won’t-”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.”

It’s easier to speak when you are looking away from Jimin. “Everything that’s happened…that is happening, it’s easy to, you know, want to feel something other than fear or loneliness,” you swallow. “And I’m convenient to do that with,” you let your hands drop away from his embrace. “I feel like we’re just using each other, and once it’s not convenient, you won’t want me anymore. That’s why I wanted to wait.” 

“I’m not using you, y/n!”

You look up at the ceiling to keep from crying. You weren’t from a rich family, or famous, you weren’t gifted, you weren’t special. You would have never been more than a fan to them had the world not gone to shit…

They left you alone.

You don't forget that, that nagging feeling always in the pit of your stomach, always tight around your chest when you notice one of them giving you that look, the one Jimin is giving you right now. The look Yoongi gave you after he said what a “mistake” it was kissing you.

And if you let Jimin kiss you again, have you on this bed, could you handle it if he tells you someday later, those exact words? You’re overcome with a weird feeling. Are you okay with that? 

He’s looking at your lips.

Maybe you should. Fuck it. Yolo. Or whatever.

Can you push away those feelings?

Is...that what Yoongi did to you?

“Is everything okay?”

“Go away Namjoon!” Jimin yells as you pull away from one another as the bedroom door opens.

“What? Excuse me, Park Jimin?” Namjoon is staring at your distressed anxious expression. “What the hell is going on?”

“It’s fine. I-I’m fine. I…I need some air.”

Jimin grabbed your arm. He didn’t want to let you go, he knew you had a penchant for being reckless, and especially if you were about to go outside, he was definitely going to put a stop to it. 

It probably sounded like a whimper, the sound you made when Jimin held you again, the way Namjoon was right by your side in an instant. “Let her go, Jimin!” He warns, holding both yours and Jimin’s arms.

“Kim Namjoon, why do you let her put herself in danger all the time?!”

“WHY ARE YOU YELLING AT ME, PARK JIMIN?”

You wince at Namjoon’s booming voice so close to your ear. You hear footsteps rushing towards the room, so you rip yourself away from both men’s grasp.

Well, you just locked yourself in the closet. You just did that.

The men stare at the closed door for a while. They hear your muffled voice yell back, “I’m fine! I just need some time alone…in here. I won't go outside, I promise!”

---

You finally leave the closet when Seokjin knocks softly on the door telling you dinner is ready. You carry a box full of clothes, shirts and pants for each man to try on, and a new outlook on things after shifting through old keepsakes, a collection of items that told a story of a couple who must have been together for decades. You want that. But that kind of life, like old movie tickets, developed film, and festival prizes, that kind of blissful happiness was not possible for anyone anymore.

“Do we have water?” you ask Jungkook. He looks exhausted.

“Drinking water, yes.”

“What about…cleaning water?” you ask, hopeful. 

“What about soap?” Jungkook asks.

You smile wide, clapping your hands together, pulling out everything you found and setting it up in a neatly filed line in front of Jungkook. “You have first pick, of course, if you get me that water,” you smile deviously.

Jungkook grabs the shampoo and conditioner combo. “You will have it all set up for you tomorrow when you get back from scouting.”

“Yay!” You give the youngest the tightest biggest hug you could muster up. “Oh! Maybe I should wait until after I bathe to give you a hug-”

“No! Hug now, and hug tomorrow!” Jungkook squeezes the air out of you. You giggle, despite not being able to inhale.

---

“Are you still mad at me?” Yoongi asks wearily, finally speaking up. “I’m sorry-”

“You don’t have to apologize, Yoongi.” You dig through the neighboring house’s kitchen, handing Yoongi the cans of food you found. “I’ll just try not to act so irresistible next time,” you joke, in brighter spirits, winking at the idol.

Yoongi places the items in his pack, relieved you weren’t giving him the cold shoulder.

“Oh, thanks,” he says sarcastically. “You’ve been doing a pretty good job though with that smell.”

“Okay, mister! Oh look, I found some food for you!” You throw him some cat food, laughing.

“I expect a two course meal tonight,” you tease, after finding spam and more canned veggies.

“I’ll make sure to prepare a second course all for you with the cat food you found.”

“Ew!” You shove him playfully. “I guess I won’t share my dessert with you then.”

“What dessert?”

“You think these are still good?” You pull out a full box of chocopie from your pack. You smile in satisfaction at Yoongi’s stunned face. 

“I guess I will have to make you a three course meal then,” Yoongi says, making you smile wider.

A noise makes you jump, and Yoongi instinctively covers your body with his. You force your head under his arm, unwilling to let him sacrifice himself for you.

“Stay behind me!” Yoongi hisses.

“No, you stay behind me!”

Yoongi shoves you with all his strength away from the noise closing in. It catches you off guard as you stumble backward, you hadn’t expected Yoongi to use so much force.

So you jump on his back, sending him stumbling and crashing into a very nice looking cabinet...full of glass wear.

Two of the biggest racoons you’ve ever seen in your life scurry out of the shadows and past you and Yoongi, making you squeal and tighten your grip around the rapper.

Yoongi sighs, freezing against you when he realizes his hands are holding your thighs.

“Next time just get behind me,” you mumble.

“No fucking way.”

You should be mad at him, but you can’t help but smile.

Yoongi should be mad at you, but all his anger dissipates seeing your smile.

You pass by a record player on your way out. “Yoongi! Do you think we could make it work?”

Yoongi shakes his head. “It needs electricity.”

“You can’t just turn the record with your finger?” You sound so desperate to hear music.

“The speakers won’t work without electricity. Sorry, y/n.”

You nod, crestfallen. Yoongi hides his disappointment too, the rapper wishes most of all to hear music again. You grab a pile of records, “just in case,” you say, hoping one day to find a way to play them. It makes Yoongi sad and happy all at once. He wouldn’t have done that, had any hope like that to begin with. 

You both walk back to your new found home quietly, but now shoulder to shoulder.

You gasp, making Yoongi pause. “Oh! Look at that. The wall-”

Vine had grown all over the concrete fence. Between the two panels, vegetation had come in between them and on the sides, and now the gray that could still be seen resembled-

“It looks like the Army logo!” you laugh happily.

Yoongi looks at you. His eyes seem lost and far away and so reverent, and at the same time, he looks at you with that same reverence.

And Yoongi knows he shouldn’t. Not after Seokjin had confessed to him his growing feelings for you, or when Jimin looks at you so longingly during those moments you’re not looking.

Not after Yoongi had noticed the way his leader always gravitates to your side, and Jungkook’s red ears and wide smile when you give him your undivided attention. Yoongi knows there was already enough discontent in the group. He shouldn’t feel the same way.

But you’ve wound yourself around him like those branches. 

You’ve grown on the rapper, your attitude and your kindness and your strength and your smile. He feels it, that excitement when he looks at the hidden symbol, only for a second, only because of you, and he’s grateful to you. 

Your eyes follow his gaze, looking at him in excitement over such a small thing, a small sign that meant…still means so much to him…so much it hurts to remember. It hurts to think about what he had and what he lost. You mean so much to him. And he can’t lose you too.

Your eyes sparkle before they turn questioning, and before you can ask, Yoongi is already kissing you.

Your eyes widen, and your hand presses against his chest. Yoongi’s muscles are hard against your palm and makes you gasp how solid and warm he feels. He kisses you deeper, quickly, indulgently before he makes himself pull away.

You're both breathing hard, you look at him surprised, mouth agape, your lips still tingling from his contact.

He did it right in front of the house.

And right in front of his bandmates, waiting for both of you to return. 

Shit, he thinks. Where did all his control go?! He wishes he could blame you, after all the things you do to make his heart burst so much he bursts to feel you.

He makes a quick apology before turning away from you. He knows he’s fucked up again when he feels your grip on his shoulder as you try to pull him back unsuccessfully and your silence following.

Maybe somewhere deep down he wanted you to chase him, and somewhere deeper he was disappointed you didn’t.

---

“Someone kissed you, someone here kissed you?! One of my brothers kissed you?!”

“No! No, no.” You say rather unconvincingly in Jimin’s opinion. 

“...”

“Yes?”

“So? Who was it? I know it wasn’t Jungkook or Taehyung because they were the ones whispering about it.”

You groan inwardly. “Well it doesn’t really matter, because he didn’t mean to, but um, it was– and he regrets it! I think. Well he definitely regretted the first time-” you mumble, annoyed.

“First?! As in, this was the second time?!”

“Uhhhh…”

“Did you kiss him back?”

“...”

Jimin sighs, rubbing his eyes. “So that’s why you didn’t want to be with me,” he laughs bitterly.

“What! No! Well yes…but not for that reason! Ugh! Jimin please,” you inhale deeply, “Yoongi regretted it as soon as it happened. I just didn’t want you…if we had done more, I didn’t want you to feel stuck with me once we reached Seoul,” you sigh.

“YOONGI KISSED YOU? TWICE?!”

“Eh? No? Yes?”

“You do know zombies are attracted to noise, right?!”

“Shut up, Dev!”

Taehyung and Jungkook, the cause of this commotion (because it was definitely not you and Yoongi) pull Jimin away. 

“Maybe you should go check the bathroom, y/n,” Jungkook pleads.

You don’t have to be told twice. You nod, at a loss for words.

-

You stare at the half filled plastic tub situated in the middle of the bathroom, contemplating on drowning yourself. 

It would certainly make things easier for the group. You decide probably not the best thing to do at the moment and pull off your shirt.

The door opens mid undress, and you decide to just pull off the dirtied material anyways.

“Oh shit, sorry! I thought you might have been done already.”

“Oh, I was…preoccupied.” Interrogated, more like it, you sigh. You cover your chest with the dirtied shirt, staring at BTS leader, Kim Namjoon, who looks sheepishly at his feet. “You wanted to use the water?” you ask hesitantly.

“No,” he lies, “We already washed up.”

“You did a shit job.” You notice his hair is still a little bit greasy.

Namjoon laughs. “Well Jungkook is rationing water like a maniac, we were only allowed a bowl full each.”

You suddenly feel horrible looking at the tub full of water you were about to use. “I’m sorry, that’s not fair, you can use the water first.”

“No, no! You deserve it out of all of us.”

“What?! No I don’t!” you exclaim, pulling Namjoon to the tub and heading for the door.

“Hold up, Jungkook will murder me if you don’t use this water,” Namjoon laughs.

You pause. Grabbing a towel and soaking it, you squirt soap across it. “Well…you need it more,” you smile half heartedly, holding the towel out for him to take. “Please.”

Namjoon sighs, pausing at the door. 

He shuts it.

-

You sit on the closed toilet, suddenly realizing the situation you’ve put yourself in as Namjoon pulls off his shirt. He takes the towel from you, holding it to his face and sighing.

Where did your shirt go?! Should you go put a shirt back on? Should you leave and give him privacy? Or maybe you should stay very very still in hopes he forgets you’re still here. You glance over at Namjoon, trying not to stare as he wipes his chest.

Namjoon bends over your lap, wetting the towel again.

“Do you want help with your err back?” you ask.

Namjoon looks over at you. He hasn’t said a word since he’s closed the door. He simply nods, turning his back to you.

You notice all the scars littered across his torso and arms. It's sad what this new world does to you, you can’t escape it no matter who you are.

You wipe down his spine and across, over a particularly deep looking scar. It’s so close to his spleen, it must have been a scary situation. “How did you get that one?” 

“I think it was when we were running through the woods after our first lake run. We hadn’t anticipated so many of them. I fell down and got jabbed by a branch, went in pretty deep,” he grunts, remembering the pain and having to get back up and keep running even as blood seeped out of his gash.

“Clumsy,” you tsk. Namjoon chuckles, back to being silent. So you tell him to lean over the tub. You cup water in your palms to wet his hair and you grab some of your shampoo.

He sighs as your nails massage the soap into his scalp, his arm absentmindedly holding your leg. You tell yourself it's so his clumsy self stays steady.

You pick up a cup and let the water run through his hair. “Don’t tell the others I did that for you, they might get mad at me.” You wonder just how mad Jimin currently is.

He shakes his head, flinging water at you, nodding happily. You laugh, looking away. His pants are soaking. 

“Thank you.”

“I can leave, so you can finish cleaning your body,” you mumble.

“Or,” Namjoon says softly, “you could stay.”

That makes you look up. Namjoon stands upright, he looks so tense and wound up. You are faring no better, and this was supposed to be a relaxing experience! 

“Do you want me to stay?” you ask slowly.

“Yes.” Namjoon says without missing a beat.

“Okay. So, I’ll stay,” you swallow.

“I can help you too, wash your back.” 

You scoff. But he’s serious.

You have gotten very close to them, spending every waking minute with them, falling asleep in their arms, you’ve lost count how many times it’s happened. You try to always tell yourself it’s what you must do to survive, that’s all there is to it. That sort of familiarity was a kind of preservation.

This is probably the closest thing you’ve done with the leader. And the way he looks at you, with such a soft look in his eyes, making you second guess yourself, that mantra just doesn’t seem to fit this time. 

You decidedly turn around, reaching for your bra clasp. Namjoon undoes it quickly, easily, surprising you.

Now it's Namjoon’s turn to look over the scars littering your body. They look deep and painful.

He touches one in particular. It’s a miracle you lived. 

He holds his hand there, over the scar, palm resting on your side. Your heart feels like it’s pumping a thousand beats per minute.

He delicately runs the towel across your shoulder blades as you cross your arms over your chest.

You shiver when the cold cloth touches your skin. “I told you it was going to be cold,” Namjoon laughs. “You wanted to soak in that.”

“I’ll still do it,” you say stubbornly, getting used to the cool sensation.

You turn around once he seems to have gone over your back three times over. You were both topless, however you kept yourself covered with your arms. You didn’t protest when he wiped your neck and collar bone. You were concentrating on not making any noise at all actually, worried for the sounds that might come out.

Namjoon was taking deeper breaths, through and out his nose.

You wondered what kind of reaction he would have if you dropped your hands.

You also wondered how long it’s been since Namjoon has seen a woman’s body up close like this. You had already noticed how his eyes kept glancing down at your cleavage every other second. It’s been a long time since someone has seen you naked.

It would be like a thank you. 

Were you really thinking about flashing the idol?!

But Namjoon…has become more. Felt like more…he was more to you. He’s more special to you than you could have possibly imagined.

Also you just kind of want to see his reaction. You chuckle.

Namjoon quirks his head, a small smile surfacing. “What?”

Oh god, what’s wrong with you?! Was the thought of showing him your boobs that amusing to you?

“I just realized you’re the only person that can really see me like this.”

“Is that why you’re avoiding Jimin?” He asks.

“Part of the reason,” you mumble.

“The others will-”

“No.” You shut down whatever his suggestion might be. “You’re the only person I trust completely, Namjoon.”

He nods. “I trust you completely too.”

You shy away, turning back around. Hearing your words repeated back to you, you didn’t realize how…intimate it sounded.

You hear Namjoon unbuckling his belt. You didn’t know what to do, so you started unbuttoning your pants as well. For some reason, your brain thought if you were both naked, that would make it less awkward. The mind is a funny thing.

You let your pants drop. Your heart rate is now ringing inside your ears.

You stumble over to the small tub, standing in the middle, waiting, glancing over your shoulder to a very naked Namjoon, hands over his manhood.

“You’re not really gonna-”

“Oh, I definitely am.” You try to sound as confident as possible with your heart fully jumping outside your chest and your eyes staring directly at your toes. “You too?”

-

“How is it?”

“Freezing.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Whatever!” You cup some water and let it trickle down your front.

It’s cramped as hell, you’re trying very hard to ignore Namjoon’s naked member pressed up against your bum. The water is cold, but every place Namjoon's skin comes into contact with yours, warmth is radiating.

Namjoon smiles. You're spooned against his front, knees pulled to your chest. He has to reach down your legs to wet his towel again, running the damp cloth across his neck and shoulder. He relaxes against you, resting his head against the tub’s rim as you meticulously lather soap over your body and through your hair. He tries to remember what compelled him to do this with you. 

He wanted to be closer with you, and well now, he thinks there is no way he could possibly get any closer unless he jumped into your skin.

He didn’t want to leave you. Even though he knew he should have gone the moment he saw your shirt over your arms and your cleavage on display. He knew you were just being nice offering him your bath, but you looked at him eyes so pleadingly, half naked too, Namjoon wanted to stay with you, so he did.

He didn’t want you to leave him either. So he asked you to stay. He told himself, if you said no, then he wouldn’t push, he would accept that was going to be as close as he would be able to get for now. But then you stayed. He got what he wanted.

And now you were naked in his lap, happily splashing around while his balls froze, and Namjoon was exactly where he wanted to be. He probably shouldn’t feel so satisfied about it, but he’s been having to quietly deal with not being able to do what he truly wanted for so long…

“Well I’m having fun,” you laugh.

“Me too.”

“Y/n is that you?”

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. 

“Yeah, yeah it’s me. I’ll be out in a bit. I'm, um, busy!” You try to stand, but you have no footing.

“Oh okay!” Taehyung yells back. You listen for any sounds of movement. 

“I can’t find Hobi or Joon, do you know where they went?”

“No um no, I don’t know where Hobi OR JOON is! I don’t know, I’ll uhh help you look after I’m done…go away now– Close the bedroom door when you leave! I need to grab my clothes.”

Taehyung sees two large shirts on the bed. He likes the color of one. “You want them now?”

“NO! No no, I’m busy, you should leave. I can’t um concentrate with you there.”

“Okay okay.” Jeez. Taehyung pouts. It’s not like he hasn’t heard it all before. But women are touchy with things like that so he lets you have your privacy.

You had floundered like a fish, leaning over to make sure Taehyung could hear you, arm outstretched in case you needed to throw the door closed. You had completely forgotten your, very naked, predicament.

Two of those predicaments pressed right against Namjoon’s cheeks. 

Now you are very much understanding what you’ve done, and how rigid Namjoon is, trying not to think about you pressed up against him. And you notice how rigid something else is…..

You freeze in shock.

That doesn’t help Namjoon’s current situation.

“I can’t leave now. It will be too obvious,” Joon says, fighting every mortal urge inside him at this point.

You peel your breasts off him, falling out of the tub and onto slippery tile.

“I’ll leave!” Shit. Your own self restraint is hanging on by threads. You need alone time. How are you gonna get it here?

Fuck, it’s cold now, you’re missing Namjoon’s body against yours, you’re really missing it.

“Stay.”

“Namjoon, listen– oh,” you had intended to tell him the same thing you told Jimin, you hadn’t expected him to see him so...exposed.

Namjoo stood one foot out of the tub, skin wet and glistening, hand not so much covering much of anything as he gripped his very very erect cock.

Your mind goes blank. This was the first time you’ve seen him…that. Not in quick shy glances at the lake, not in unfocused looks, eyes downcast or upcast or anywhere but his fucking sexy body cast. You were shamelessly staring at the man in front of you, eyes wide open.

Namjoon looks so goddamn hot, so big. And you made him that hard, you can’t even bother to cover yourself, noticing his eyes looking hungrily at your bare chest as he runs his hand down his cock, gripping it tight. 

You look up at him, panting. Goddammit, he’s so goddamn hot, touching himself to your body. You might just hyperventilate right in front of him, but that would be super unsexy of you.

Namjoon runs his tongue across his bottom lip, grunting. Or was that a moan?!

You feel so wet, so burning up, you’re surprised the water hasn’t evaporated off your skin.

“If we…if we…we’re just helping each other. Like friends. We’re just…”

Namjoon nods, too horny to think straight anyways he’d agree to anything you said.

Namjoon doesn’t say anything, just bends down, laying his body over yours so you can feel his warmth against you again.

It was your first kiss with Namjoon. Previously, there were moments at night when his lips grazed your shoulder, a couple times against the crook of your neck, that you chose to believe was something sort of a reflex he would do half asleep, probably remembering someone who was not you, an action he never mentioned once morning came. But this kiss was so desperate, full of passion and want. His lips were strong and rough, his mouth was devouring you.

You reach between your legs, gripping his length finally. “Fuck, you’re so hard,” you moan, impressed. “I am so wet right now.”

“Oh fuck,” Namjoon whimpers.

Fuck! He whimpered! 

Yep. You’re gonna do it. There is no fucking way you’re gonna leave here without cuming. 

You arch your back into him, hand now moving furiously up and down his cock. He kisses you, tongue licking into your open mouth. His fingers meet yours as he reaches for your center. You bite back moans, closing your eyes as his digits dig into your thigh, hiking up one leg to open you up for his skilled fingers.

You gasp, catching his eyes, the way his brows furrow and his intense gaze, so very different from when he’s half asleep. His fingers reach in deep inside you, a sensation you haven’t felt in so long. You try to focus on his pleasure, running your hand up and down his length, finding a speed he responds to the most and trying your best to keep it up as you fall apart under his own ministrations.

You finally lose your very intense very sexy staring match when he curls his fingers into you, your eyes rolling back. “Fuck…yes…yes,” you groan.

Namjoon is close, kissing you when he finally reaches his high, silencing himself against your lips as you shudder against him.

He breathes heavily against you. He wanted to do more with you, it was too quick, he was too quick, he thinks cursing himself, even though he should have anticipated that kind of reaction to finally being touched by another person in so long. But time, like everything now, is scarce.

You stare up at the ceiling, post orgasm clarity hitting you like a ton of bricks. Did you just really do that?! It just all happened so fast, and now Namjoon is laying over you so heavy you can't move. Namjoon lifts himself up after catching his breath and you stare at each other.

You wonder what he’s thinking. You’re too embarrassed to ask. At least you’re in the perfect place to clean yourselves up.

---

You’ve all decided to move tonight, closer to the river, closer to Seoul. Everything is packed! You’re all ready, well fed, prepared. You should all be feeling pretty confident at this point. But everyone’s in a bad mood, tense, well almost everyone.

Taehyung is staring at Namjoon’s new shirt suspiciously and the way he seems way too relaxed about things, the way he stands right behind you, extremely close, bodies touching like...no way...

‘No, definitely not.’ Taehyung thinks...he hopes not. Damn, he should have taken that shirt when he had the chance! You catch Taehyung’s narrowed stare and immediately look away like you are hiding something. “How did you like it?” Jungkook walks up to you, staring at your freshly cleaned face, you are glowing.

“It was perfect, thank you so so much,” you whisper.

“Do you still have some of the soap you used? You smell good.” You giggle when his nose tickles the crook of your neck as he sniffs you, knocking him away playfully.

“Mhmm it’s not soap,” you say happily, “It’s lotion!”

Jungkook holds his hand out expectantly. “Boy, your skin is perfect, you do not need it, I do!”

“Noona, share!” Jungkook whines.

“Finders keepers! Fine, I’ll let you borrow some later, remind me,” you laugh.

Taehyung stares at Namjoon, who is cracking his knuckles, his jaw tensing as he watches Jungkook touch you playfully. Taehyung notices the way his leader’s eyes immediately soften when you look over your shoulder and call his name asking if he was ready, smiling. He smiles too.

‘Oh my god,’ Taehyung thinks.

-

The group decides to break up into pairs and one trio. Normally you would have said, hell no, that’s being-chased-by-monsters rule number one, never split up the group! 

But it was easier to move around this way, to hide quickly.

The first pair would make sure they had the second always in their sights and it would go down the line like that, so it was easy to alert the closest pair to any signs of danger and the message could get to the whole group no matter how far spread out.

And it was strategic, one pair could lure monsters away while the others slipped through. Another pair could help you escape. And if it came to the worst, at least it would only be a few, and not all of you…

Taehyung decides to step in when you and Namjoon want to be paired together, so that’s why you are currently holding hands with the baritone singer, crab walking behind a fence.

You pass by shops with Taehyung, looking through the store windows. You want to explore, you would have if you were alone. But now you were part of a group, with a group objective, and group members who were counting on you, so you move steadily forward. That would have been a cute outfit though.

Every once in a while the pair in front of you stops, sends you and Taehyung a series of hand gestures to translate. This time, you learn there are nine zombies at your ten o’clock. 

Taehyung lets Jin and Yoongi know, telling them to follow you and him to the right while Namjoon and Hoseok throw rocks, leading the monsters away.

Taehyung has been unusually quiet. You suspect he’s probably mad at you on behalf of Jimin, so you don’t push him to make small talk. Grudges become trivial in these kinds of situations anyways. 

You turn a corner and notice three zombies hunched near the remains of a food stall. 

You wonder, were they customers at some point in their lives? They don’t notice you and they are pretty far away, but could definitely become a problem later. You and Taehyung exchange looks. “I’ll handle it,” you say.

“I got your back,” he whispers, signaling for the others to wait and hide.

One, down, a middle aged woman missing a huge chunk of her calf, her eyes so clouded she couldn’t see anymore, just smelled you too late.

Two, down, a business man still wearing his work suit, a hole in his jacket and his intestines falling out, his jaw crooked, a limp in his walk, he was already falling apart before you destroyed him completely.

The third one, he only had one bite mark on his neck. His clothes were grimy, like everything else in this new world, but his skin still had a lively color. He looks like he was turned not even a day ago, and he’s fast. 

You fall down. Taehyung sinks his knife into the undead’s neck when he jumps on you, but the angle doesn’t hit where it needs to and the zombie turns his body to attack the idol. You grab the zombie at his ankles, giving Taehyung enough time to strike where it counts. Taehyung is shaken but okay. You are winded but okay.

You see the two eldest running towards your location and you hold up your hand to tell them not to worry. But they don’t stop, instead signaling you to hide. Taehyung pulls you up by the elbow and you run towards the empty stall.

“Grab that guy!”

“What?!”

“Hurry!” you hiss, yanking the now fully dead woman across the pavement.

One, Two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, you count. Did you hear that right? Ten different pairs of feet dragging across pavement, ten different tones, growling, passing by you and Taehyung, currently lying under a broken stall table, with two corpses covering you. They drag around you, bodies shadowed on the red plastic table cloth covering you and Taehyung.

You both stay hidden, taking short breaths, listening intently, fingers numb from holding each other. The plastic tablecloth keeps you hidden but also traps the heat in and doesn't give you any field of vision. God, it smells horrible, the smell of death. You squeeze Taehyung’s hand tighter, letting the pain take your mind off the stench. You notice sweat roll down his forehead as Taehyung scrunches up his nose, trying not to inhale the smell.

Taehyung looks at you, telling you to wait, because he already knows that you’re itching to leave, to run, to fight. He tightens his already crushing grip. 

“You remember what you promised me?” You promised Taehyung something? You look at him questioningly. “Before I become like them, kill me, so I don’t hurt my brothers.”

“We’re going to get out of here, okay?” Taehyung nods, very unconvinced. “Hobi and Joon, did you see where they ran?” Taehyung nods again, very not ready to leave. “I know you’re mad at me, but do you trust me?” Taehyung’s eyes go wide.

“I’m not mad at you.” 

The growls can no longer be heard. You pull a corner of the table cloth up, looking around, seeing the undead group dispersed and in the distance, only moving shadows in the night now. “So you got my back, right?” Taehyung nods, eyes focused. “We’re gonna go really slow, clear the area as much as possible. If we see one, and they’re a slow one too, we’re gonna let them come to us.”

“And if it’s like him?” Taehyung gestures to the corpse next to him. 

You smile, “We’re gonna let them come to me. You take them down. We just have to last until the others get to us. I trust you, Tae.”

You’re breaking your second rule on being-chased-by-monsters. Always run from newly turned zombies. But you’re doing it for Taehyung, for the group. 

Also, you can’t deny that you and Taehyung have both gotten very good at defending yourselves. Of course every zombie encounter is life or death, of course it’s a terrifying experience to fight one, one Taehyung would rather avoid, but he hasn’t lost yet! The odds are in your favor.

This so happens to be just another night out in post apocalyptic times. And as you hold Taehyung’s hand, now standing in the middle of the unlit street, watching a few ambling monsters start ambling your way, you and Taehyung start to walk as if you were just out on a stroll, and you think, this is not the most horrible night out you’ve had post apocalypse, and you might even go far as to say pre-apocalypse either, thinking about that night you ended up in the ER. 

Twelve more, down, you and Taehyung have stopped. You stand back to back, looking around for any signs of life. 

“Should we just call out for help?” Taehyung suggests, looking around for any signals to where his brother’s have gone.

It’s so quiet now, you can only hear Taehyung, maybe the others are being quiet on purpose. “Not yet. Which way did you see Hobi and Joon go?”

“I think we should go back and find Jin and Yoongi.”

“Oh? Okay...” you let Taehyung lead you away. “W-Wait! Do you hear that?”

It sounds like a ticking, no, more like a pounding. Something heavy bumping into glass. You situate yourself against Taehyng’s back again. “What is that?”

“I don’t know, do you see where it’s coming from?” you whisper, looking at the buildings around you. Could it be the others? Are they in trouble?

Taehyung holds your hand, bracing himself, “Yeah.” He sees a young woman, banging on the glass in an abandoned store. It is fairly far, at first Taehyung thought she was signaling for help…

…but she’s banging on the door with her head.

There’s so much blood, but Taehyung can clearly see the way she bares her teeth. And in the shadows, Taehyung can just make out some movement, something else, coming closer. “We need to hide. Now!”

You look over your shoulder, to see what Taehyung sees, just in time to witness the glass break. Taehyung is leading you away before you can respond, running faster than you can keep up in the opposite direction. You stumble into an alleyway, looking for a place to hide. “WHY IS IT BLOCKED?!” 

You have found yourselves at a dead end, a car jammed in the narrowest alleyway, turned over on its side, probably trying to escape the exact kind of monsters chasing after you now. 

The monsters find you as you and Taehyung are desperately trying to climb over the car. “Wait wait wait!” Taehyung holds his hands up, knife ready to stab.

The zombie actually stops.

“Did you just speak zombie to her?” you ask incredulously.

It was probably a coincidence as the monster starts running towards you and Taehyung again. “Stop!”

“It’s not stopping, Taehyung! Just run!”

“It was worth another try.”

The zombie is catching up, not caring how badly damaged its body becomes as it catapults itself over the car. Taehyung trips, pulling you down with him. You’re sure to have cuts across your palms and elbows as you crawl away on the hard pavement.

Now the distance is closed, and there’s two more crawling over the top of the car like ants over a hill looking for something sweet to devour.

But before you can defend yourself, her head is already gone. “Get up!” An older man yells at you. Taehyung pulls you up as a strange group takes down the remaining zombies.

The stranger runs to the backdoor of a store, opening it with a key, ushering everyone inside until the last man joins you, and the old man locks the door again. “Thank you,” Taehyung says, winded.

The man introduces himself and the group. “We saw you outside, on the street,” he says. “It was impressive,” he adds. The pair of you seemed fearless taking on so many zombies, so he thought…

You stay quiet as Taehyung and the man talk. You look around, counting four other men and two women. You notice each woman clinging onto a man, presumably their boyfriend, and you glance down at your own hand, fingers still interlaced with Taehyung.

“Is it just you two?”

“Yes.” Taehyung says. There was another reason you broke off into groups, so if you ran into anyone living, depending on your situation, you could make sure they wouldn’t know about the others. “We’re trying to get to Seoul.” You hear soft laughter. Why is it always so funny?!

You haven’t spoken up, only stared at the group, trying to gauge their level of hostility. They seem curious about you and they don’t seem to have recognized Taehyung. “I don’t think there will be much left when you get there,” one of the men speaks up. “I escaped Seoul.”

They always say that too…

“What happened in Seoul?” Taehyung asks. “What do you remember?”

“What I remember? I think I blocked most of it out now,” he laughs bitterly. “The first day, it must have been half…half of everyone changed into biters by that night..” A few others nod their head in agreement. “We were told to stay in our homes, shelter in place, so we thought, ‘that’s good news,’ right? Someone would come and save us, bring us food and supplies at least, but there was...nothing. We had internet, we could contact our friends and family for a while. But power stopped eventually, and then we were really fucked to hell. No one came to help us, only to try to break down our doors to get inside. Once we finally left, it was completely changed, I’ve never seen anything like it. Seoul wasn’t Seoul anymore.”

“What about the military?”

“They tried their damndest from what I heard, but they were all overrun by those things, even the American base,” he eyes you up and down, wondering where you came from and if you understood him, your impassive face not giving anything away, He also questioned…bitterly…why a foreigner managed to survive all this time when his friends, his family, hadn’t. 

“It can’t all be destroyed,” Taehyung says, choking on his words.

The man clears his throat, “There were rumors of certain communities in Gangnam and in Itaewon that created a good enough fortification, what’s left of the military now fends off the biters for them. But we also heard they would shoot anyone who came close to their buildings, living or not really.”

Taehyung seems to light up at that new information regardless. If rumors and half truths were anything to go by, that meant there still might be some hope someone he knew survived. Taehyung turns to you, “That’s good news, right?” You nod. Well, if you were to ignore the shooting on sight part.

“T-That’s not– Did you listen to me? If you go to Seoul you will die.” The man interrupts. 

“You said there were survivors-”

“Yeah, they got the important people up in there, in their damn billion won penthouses, ready to kill off anyone who even tries to get close. It was rumored even the president ended up there. Or escaped to North Korea, some say. But it doesn’t matter, because they killed everyone else! They’re not going to let you in, even if you manage to get there. And the rest of the city is hell on earth. Trust me, you don’t want to take her there.”

Oh shit. You study the two women, do they recognize Taehyung? What will they do once they find out? Take out their anger on one of those billion won penthouse owners? Thank god it’s dark in here, only a few rays of light from the moon shine through the windows and everything else is in the shadows, you and Taehyung included.

“And you have a place here, if you want it.” The old man interjects. “It was impressive, what you did, both of you,” he repeats. He needs more people like you here, he needs more fighters. There’s already so many factions in Hongcheon, it’s a miracle his tiny group has survived up until now.

“Can we…think about it? We still need to get supplies, that’s why we came out in the first place. We’ll go out and come back here, now that we know this place is safe.” Taehyung says.

“Okay, go and help him.” The older man asks another.

“I can show you where we sleep,” one of the women walks up to you, putting her head on her hands in case you didn’t understand her.

“No, she’s coming with me,” Taehyung interjects. He hasn’t let go of your hand this entire time.

“I know you want to protect her.” The older man adds, noticing the way you stayed glued to each other, even when you fought the monsters you always held onto each other's hands unless you absolutely had to let go, only for moments at a time. “It would be safer for her to stay here.”

You look at Taehyung with wide eyes, trying to convey to him all the things you want to say. Like, hell fucking no! There is no fucking way you are letting him out of your sight! Who the fuck cares whatever place they have to sleep looks like?! They’ve got to be kidding-

“Uh, let me talk to her, to explain!” Taehyung pulls you away, deeper into the store.

“Taehyung, you can’t be seriously thin-”

“I noticed the front door is barricaded, there might be a window in the bathroom, no, that’s not gonna work-”

“Oh-”

“We need to leave, y/n. Right now.”

You nod. “Do you think they recognize who you are? We need to be careful.”

“Yeah.” Even if it’s been awhile, Taehyung knows better than anyone, he still can spot a fan just by the way they look at him, the way they act, or pretend to act.

“How are we going to leave without them noticing?” You glance over to the strangers, trying to see if they are talking amongst themselves, if they are being told about Taehyung.

He pulls you further away, eyeing the shelves, glancing over his shoulder at the group. Taehyung sighs. “I think we’re gonna have to break one of our rules-”

Oh great, there goes rule number three on being-chased-by-monsters, out the window.

-

“We know all the places that have been already cleared of biters, there might be a few stranglers, but nothing like what you just went through.”

“Okay,” Taehyung eyes the way you visibly frown as one of the women tries talking to you about the roles the men and women accomplish day by day, and he tries not to laugh. 

The more of these “chores” she goes through, the more it’s sounding like they want to turn you into a 1950s housewife. And she might be all too content to sweep the post apocalyptic dust around the store so it can settle into another corner for the next day, but you certainly are not!

And why is Taehyung smiling at you?! “Okay, I’ll be right back.” Taehyung gives you a hug, and touches your cheek softly, looking into your eyes like he’s about to kiss you.

And then he kisses you. 

What. You close your eyes and just go with it, trying not to look too surprised or too awkward.

And then he bends down and kisses your stomach, smiling, before giving you one last kiss on your forehead. “Just wait and remember to let them come to you,” he whispers against your temple.

Eh? Did Taehyung just Peeta you? You get he’s trying to protect you, but you think you might actually murder him after this. You look around, grinning as wide as you can pretend to, seeing everyone’s surprised faces.

“Wait,” you tug on Taehyung’s sleeve. Actually, you really hate this, you don’t want him to leave you here! So much has changed since you last broke rule number three: never go out at night on your own. You hold his head in your hands. Somehow holding him like this, with your foreheads and noses touching, feels more intimate than when your lips touched.

“Please, be careful…for the baby,” you add. Taehyung nods, smiling. He hugs you tight and you’re both reluctant to let each other go.

If they had any doubts you and Taehyung were together, they didn’t anymore.

-

“So, you’re pregnant?” The woman makes an arch over her stomach with her arm, “Baby?”

“Yep,” you fake smile, holding your belly and inwardly groaning. 

You walk aimlessly around the store, most of the shelves are empty now, apart from things like a row of pastel phone cases, this plastic thing that you can’t figure out what its supposed to be, hmm, it seems collapsible, but even the smaller size doesn’t make sense to you! And, ironically, you find a row of baby powder. Damn, even in the apocalypse people don’t forget how bad it is for you.

There’s the older gentleman, two women, and one of their boyfriend’s who stays behind in the store. Just wait, y/n. Wait. Did Taehyung forget how impatient you are?

“Bathroom?” you ask.

“Oh, it’s outside but we can’t go now. Wait. Later. Outside,” the woman, whom you learn is named Jinyoung, says, hoping you understand.

You sigh, you could make a fuss, you know pregnant women and their bladders, but you really don’t want to pee in a bucket somewhere inside here to prove a point. You flick the crumpled remains of some food packaging, sifting through the junk. Everything is empty apart from what you found, which Jinyoung promptly grabs from your grasp. “Oh, no, no good,” Jinyoung speaks up, “baby powder causes cancer.” You smile at her, laughing awkwardly.

The couple seems preoccupied at least, you think, they are all looking at you, however. You catch their eyes peering at you every so often. You feel like a caged animal putting on a show. This is an act in a way. 

The store is pretty clean despite having been ransacked. You could try and run upstairs to the living quarters, but you had no idea what was waiting up there for you. The front door is indeed blocked. The glass windows look thick, probably won’t break unless you throw something really heavy at it, and even if you want to escape, you won’t destroy their home to do it. The old man is standing guard by the back door, blocking your only exit. Ugh. 

It’s been awhile, at least a couple of hours now. You listen to the women whisper to one another while you try not to run head first into the glass like that zombie woman just so you can escape this place and search for Taehyung and the others.

“I knew there had to be a reason why he was with her.”

“He’s a good man, watching over her. They really care about each other.”

“Because she’s carrying his child, obviously.”

“That’s exciting though. A small Taehyungie, She’s so lucky.”

“Yeah, that’s going to be more people to feed.”

“It’s going to be the most beautiful baby, oh! You know, if she survives.”

“She definitely won’t.”

Mmm don’t think murderous thoughts, y/n. It’s bad for “the baby.” ‘It’s been too long, they should be here by now,’ you think. ‘Ok, screw this plan,’ you think, finding something you thought you’d never see again: a jar of gochujang paste.

“Hey old man, please will you move and open the door, I need to leave.”

“It’s not safe to go out alone, young lady. Your boyfriend should be back soon, don’t worry.”

“Are you holding me prisoner?”

“Of course not,” he says, flabbergasted not only by your accusation but your ability to speak fluently, “but I also will not allow you to put yourself in danger under my watch. I know we are strangers to you, for now, but we should still look out for one another-”

“Let her go if she wants to go!” one of the women says.

“I appreciate you saved my life, I really do. So this is a courtesy to you, I’m protecting you, from me.”

“What is she saying? She doesn’t make any sense.”

Ugh. “I’m bitten. I got bitten, and I’m going to turn, so let me out!”

“What?!” 

You lift up your shirt, “I didn’t want to say anything before, not in front of my…partner. But see, I have to go! You’re in danger the longer I’m in here!” You show him a scar on your side, where you have strategically placed the dark red paste to look like a bleeding bite mark.

“Kill her!”

“Or just let me leave?!”

“Oh my god, can we save the baby?”

“She’s not even showing! What are we gonna save?”

The younger man runs up to you, chasing you through the aisles. “Just let me go outside, damn.”

“Your Korean is so good!” Jinyoung exclaims.

“Thank you,” you say, barely dodging the man’s fist.

Suddenly, there is a pounding on the door, scaring everyone into silence. “Open the door!” Jinyoung exclaims.

“There’s a code,” the man waits. The pounding gets louder and quicker, rattling the door.

“What if they are in trouble! Open it!” you yell.

“What if it’s those biters?! We can’t let them in!”

“Hello, did you forget about me?!” you whine.

“OPEN IT!”

“Please, hurry!”

The older man relents, unlocking the door. And in bursts-

“Jin!” you cry out.

“OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD.” Namjoon, Hoseok, and Yoongi are right behind him. Someone, you can’t tell if it’s Jinyoung or the other woman, screams. 

Namjoon holds out his knife, pointing it at the old man. “We’re not going to hurt you, we just came to get our friend.” You run towards the singers as fast as your legs can take you.

There is another reason why you broke into pairs, so you could save each other. Namjoon grabs you first, pulling you into a hug. 

“She’s bitten, stay away from her!”

You pull out the gochujang from your pack, “Oh, I lied, sorry, I just really wanted to leave.”

“But t-the bite-”

“Fooled you, didn’t I? It does look like blood if you dilute it enough.”

“Oh my god, you found this?!” Seokjin asks excitedly.

“Let’s go!” Yoongi grunts.

-

“Where’s Taehyung?!” You jog up to the leader. 

“We’re getting there,” he says. You haven’t stopped running since leaving the store. 

Finally you see that moppy headed menace, running towards your group. “Next time YOU wait!”

“But my plan worked, didn’t it?”

“You really just had to tell them I’m pregnant?”

“Hey, I was doing it to protect you! I didn’t know if they might hurt you because of who you were.” Taehyung says, and the irony is not lost on you.

“How did you get away from those men?”

“It was pretty easy, I just said I was bit-”

“No way, me too!”

“How much longer do we have to run? My legs hurt!” Seokjin yells.

“Pace yourselves because it’s gonna be a while,” Hoseok says.

“Next thing we look for are some better shoes,” you whine.

A zombie runs towards your group, and you use the opportunity to take out your frustrations of the night, piercing through the monster’s jaw and up. The blood goes all over your clothes. Now you look just as dirty as the day before. “I just took a bath. UGH.”

“Don’t upset the baby!” Taehyung laughs, running away from you.

“Oh, you’re gonna get it!” you run. You turn the corner and find Jungkook, Jimin and Dev waiting for you. The group is now all together again, running into the night.

“So, anything new happen? How's the weather?” you ask Dev.

“Those zombies that were following us are taken care of,” Hoseok speaks up.

“We might have more than zombies following us now,” Taehyung adds. “Like living zombies, what are those called again?” he jokes.

“We ran into people too!” Jungkook says, running past you with ease. 

“Yeah?”

“They’re trying to get to Jeju!”

“Jeju, why?” Namjoon asks

“They said that’s the place with no zombies.”

“How do they know?” you ask, intrigued.

“Well they don’t, but that’s what others have told them and they sound pretty convinced.”

“Any news that’s not a rumor?”

“Y/n is pregnant with my child!”

“Yeah, that’s just a lie.”

Taehyung then goes into all the details you’ve learned about Seoul.

“So, we just have to figure out how to not get shot, convince them to let us in, and hope our families are somewhere inside?”

“I don’t think they would shoot BTS.” you say, confident.

“And we have no idea if any other place, if Big Hit, is a safe area or not.” Jin asks.

“I mean, it could be?”

“The odds are not great, but it’s not horrible odds, aye!”

“We’re gonna die.”

“Ugh shut up, Dev. We’re in Hongcheon and we’re doing…okay. I even found gochujang!”

“I can’t have spicy food.”

“UGH DEV PLEASE. It’s not even that spicy!”

“Damn, if only we had meat,” Jungkook sighs.

“Shhh Shh don’t do this to me now, I am running on fumes, literally.” Jin says.

“I want K-BBQ. Please god don’t let me die until I can have K-BBQ again,” Jungkook wails.

“Why are you laughing, y/n?”

“Nothing, it’s a bad joke. You don’t wanna know…also what are the odds a zombie has eaten a person that has been recently caught on fire?”

“Y/n!”

“BAHAHA.”

---

You wake up crying again.

Even in the bright daylight, your tired bodies were fast asleep. You ran all night, finally finding a suitable house that didn’t smell like death, and hid yourselves inside. You look over at the sleeping bodies around you, reflexively counting each head. Wait, what? Someone is missing!

You see the final head, leaning against the open door frame, looking outside. You move quietly and make your way over to him. “Yoongi?”

“Go back to sleep.”

“You should go back to sleep, you look exhausted,” you whisper.

“It was hard to sleep.”

“If you’re worried about someone standing guard, I can stay here.”

“It’s too sunny to sleep now.”

You sigh, giving up arguing with the rapper, sitting in silence with him.

“Why were you crying?” he asks, curious.

“I don’t know,” you laugh. “Sometimes I can remember the dreams, but most of the time I can’t, I just know it was probably something horrible.”

Yoongi has noticed the way you cry in your sleep, shake and whimper until someone holds you, only then will you calm down a bit, so the members take turns making sure you always have someone next to you when you’re resting. “I was thinking, once we get you guys to Seoul, I might try to go to Jeju,” you say wistfully.

“What about the Embassy?” he asks.

“What are they gonna do if they are still even there? How would they get me out of the country? I’m…not as confident that my family is still around.” You give Yoongi a sad smile.

“What about your family here?” You tilt your head, surprised by his words. “You’re gonna leave us?” he asks.

You bite your lip in thought. “I don’t know.” With the way everything changes so quickly, you had no idea what to anticipate. There are so many things that could happen before you reach Seoul and then after, you can’t even begin to figure out your future. “Do you want me to stay?”

Yoongi stays quiet. With you forever, is the implication. “Jeju is nice, I might go to Jeju too,” he says, not looking at you.

You smile at the thought. It’s nice to imagine what a trip there would have been like before the world turned upside down. You hold out your palm to him. “I promise to forget,” you tease.

He puts his fingers in between yours, holding your hand. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he says, thumb making circles into your skin when you rest your head on his shoulder. It’s pretty outside, in its own special way, how the trees and vines have covered everything now, how everything that’s abandoned sits still and serene. There’s even flowers, sprouting in the most unlikely places.

“Jimin’s mad at me.”

“He’s mad at me too.”

“He’s not mad at you,” Yoongi sighs. “I think he’s in love with you.” You freeze. “And I think you should give him a chance-” he continues. 

“Yoongi. It’s not that I don’t want to give Jimin a chance– Do you really think he’s in love with me?”

“Yea-”

“And if I wasn’t the only woman here do you think he would still be ‘in love’ with me?” you frown.

“Is that why-”

“I just don’t know, Yoongi, I don’t know if I can believe that. I don’t know if he really believes it, or just wants it to be true because I…I am-”

“The only woman here?” Yoongi finishes for you. You hum.

“That’s why you kissed me, right? And Namjoon, nevermind.”

Yoongi stays quiet, until finally asking, “And what do you feel?”

“I can’t, I can’t, I’m scared,” you start to laugh despite your welling eyes. “We almost died, again, last night, how can I let myself fall in love, if something happens, how can I survive that? I can’t.”

“And here I thought you were fearless,” Yoongi smirks, wiping away a stray tear.

You snort. “I’ve never been more scared.”

“You are my family,” you say, answering his previous question. “You are everything I have left. That’s how I feel.”

“Even Dev?”

You laugh, “Yes, even him…maybe.”

Yoongi watches you smile. He understands your fear, he’s felt it, let it consume him, weigh him down until he’s stuck inside himself, frozen by that fear. But this kind of new world forces you to face your demons. You can try to hide, alone, too scared to go outside and too scared to move, but he’s learned hiding in bed under the covers won’t keep you safe, won’t keep the people you love safe either. 

“It’s scary to put yourself out there. It was scary even before the world went to shit.”

“So did you have someone, before?”

Yoongi shakes his head. “No, not really. I was always so damn busy, it was hard to have anything serious. I would go into the studio, work all day, losing track of everything else, I told myself I had plenty of time to settle down. Funny now that I think about it.”

“After?” Yoongi sighs. He looks like he’s in pain, in thought. You hold his hand a little tighter out of reflex. “I’m sorry.” You assume, like most everyone else, the person he cared about is gone.

“To be honest, I can’t believe we made it this far,” you laugh, changing the subject. “You’ve got to have some new songs about all of this. Some, survivor-you-can’t-stop-me type song you’ve got.”

“Writing lyrics is not on the top of my to-do list right now.”

“Mhmm, you’re just collecting pens because you like them, right?”

“I have a few raps,” Yoongi confesses. “No music, no way to make a beat even if I want to.” You make a silent note to try to find Yoongi some kind of an instrument. “Music is gone.” 

“That’s a good song title. But I have to disagree, it’s not gone. I think there are songs everywhere just waiting to be written. This moment? There’s a song,” you look out at the landscape. “Hear it?” You hum a tune you feel.

Yoongi laughs. “You sound like Namjoon.” Namjoon. You can’t think about him without thinking about what happened. How did that even happen?! It was like some horny demon possessed both of you. 

You thought it would be awkward afterwards, but it wasn’t. You put on the clothes you laid out, handed him one of the shirts you found and you laughed when he tripped over his pants leg. Namjoon shoved you playfully, knocking you onto the bed. He looked at you without shying away and told you to put on some pants in a way that sounded like, “I like seeing you without any pants,” and then you both walked outside and acted like nothing ever happened.

But for some reason you can’t act like that with Yoongi, his kisses are haunting you still, his touch is still burning across your lips when you remember (even though you promised him you wouldn’t). You never really got a real answer from him.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You sit in comfortable silence. The others haven’t stirred awake yet, and you’re content to sit here with Yoongi until they do. You wonder about him, though. Is he happy you’re keeping him company or feeling burdened? Yet he hasn’t let go of your hand.

“You guys are close to one another, you and Joon,” Yoongi says in sort of a questioning way.

“Yeah, I guess. He takes on everyone’s burdens, even my own,” you sigh.

Yoongi nods. He should let go of you. You hum that tune again, looking outside, holding Yoongi’s hand tightly. Instead he clicks his tongue to the beat, making you laugh loudly. “Sorry, sorry.” You look back at the others who thankfully haven’t woken up from your outburst. “That’s good! So you can hear it too then, the song out there,” you joke.

He feels stuck, knowing his brothers want you, and knowing how it feels to kiss you, knowing how soft your lips are, and knowing he can’t kiss you again, he just can’t.

“You’re beautiful.”

You stop laughing.

Yoongi said it in English. 

When you know two languages, it’s hard to explain the differences in the words and how they make you feel. You’ve been called yeppeun. You’ve seen the word in textbooks, heard it in lyrics and Korean shows. 

But beautiful is what your first boyfriend called you right before he kissed you, what your childhood best friend called the butterfly that landed on your knee when you were playing together, what your mom said when she looked at you before you left the house on your first date, what your grandmother called you as a kid so many times when she consoled you and held you in her arms as you cried. “My beautiful girl.”

You’ve been speaking Korean for so long now. It just feels different being called beautiful. Beautiful is what you haven’t felt like in a long time...

“I’m sorry!” you pull away from Yoongi after surprising him with a kiss. 

Yoongi nods. He had wanted to kiss you in that moment so badly he hadn’t expected you would kiss him. It was too quick, it was barely a kiss. Is that really going to be his last kiss with you? “I can’t kiss you anymore.”

“I know, fuck, I’m sorry.” You pull away further, but can’t go far with Yoongi’s vice grip around your fingers.

“I can’t-”

“I’m sorr-”

“I’m sorry.” And he takes the opportunity to kiss you one last time, letting all his unspoken emotions flow through his lips, his tight embrace. He feels your soft lips one last time, he lets his fingertips run across your cheek, your neck, rolls his tongue inside his mouth just once more. He finally breaks away and lets his thumb run across your lip, just to feel one last time.

That should have been the end, yet your eyes start shining, glassy as tears start forming, and you close the gap between you again.

Until you hear something off in the distance. “Did you see that?”

Yoongi looks in the direction you’re studying. “No?” He looks for any sign of life or, well, animated death.

“I swear I saw something,” You both stand up, searching for any movement for a while until you give up. And now kissing Yoongi seems to be left in the past, another thing you can’t get back.

---

One last supply run in the city before you move again.

Everything is empty, this run is not looking very fruitful. You’ve gone to three restaurant already and have managed to find only one tiny can of edible food. You’ve just entered the fourth restaurant and it doesn’t look like this place has anything to offer either.

So far you haven’t encountered any undead, which is the only good thing about this run, until you hear a noise coming from the kitchen of a restaurant you, Jimin, Jungkook and Namjoon are currently searching through.

“Yo RM, come here.”

“What’s up? 

“I thought I heard something over there.”

You make your way through the kitchen. Everything is either gone or moldy. You sigh, “I don’t know if we’re gonna find anything here either.”

“This part of town seems completely empty.”

“What are we gonna do? We need to eat.” You go through another cabinet, finding nothing.

“We still have some food leftover. We can keep trying, stay here for a few more days and check the other streets.”

You nod. This restaurant looks like it specialized in fried chicken, the oil smells putrid now. What’s left in the freezer would probably kill you if you tried to eat it.

“Man, this sucks,” you wipe the sweat accumulating off your forehead.

“Can we do anything with this?”

“Flour? Mmm we could make the blandest pancakes you’ll ever eat,” you laugh.

Namjoon pouts. He pulls off his jacket. It’s safer to wear layers when out, but the days are getting hotter, and no aircon inside makes certain spaces really unbearable.

“You should keep that on,” you eye the way his muscles flex.

“I’m burning up.” You cover his forehead with your palm, checking his temperature. “Not like that-” and Namjoon uses a word you don’t understand.

“What does that mean?”

“Genius.” By the way Namjoon is smiling at you, you just know it means the opposite. “Ow!” he winces when you hit him, looking so accosted you start to giggle. Namjoon hugs you from behind, and the big towering giant he is decides to lift you off your feet, making you squeal.

“N-Namjoon, Y/n!” Jimin sounds scared.

The kitchen door opens. “Sorry to break up whatever this is, but it’s time to come out now and join the others. Oh, you know she was kissing Yoongi the other day, looks like I was right. You’ve got your own groupie whore.”

You knew you felt eyes on you. “Hey Minho.”

“Hey bitch.” He points a gun at you and Namjoon. 

Who the fuck gave this man a gun?

Minho ushers you both out into the eating area, where they are several men with various weapons all aimed at your friends. Minho is the only one with a gun, though.

“I told you I would make you regret choosing her,” he says to Namjoon, sneering at you.

Minho looks possibly even more buff than you remember.  “I made new friends,” he smirks. His new friends look very unfriendly. They lounge around, overly confident, looking amused by the situation. 

“Of course you did,” you grunt. He pushes Namjoon towards Jungkook and Jimin and separates you from the others. 

“I just needed to have been an idol, then you would have given it up, yeah?” he whispers in your ear, grabbing the knives from your pockets and throwing them on the ground.

You roll your eyes. “You’re following us? That’s not creepy at all.”

“Where are the others?” Minho asks Namjoon. He grabs the back of your neck and holds the gun to your temple when Namjoon doesn’t speak. “Where are they?”

“Searching the restaurant next door. We’re only staying a couple more days, then we’ll leave this city.”

“Still believe you can make it to Seoul, huh?”

“Just let us go.”

“We will, after you give us your backpacks. Hurry up now.” The three men glare at him but relent, handing the thieves their packs.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” you ask him.

“Nope,” Minho smirks. “Okay, you can leave now,” he points his gun at the leader.

“Wait, him too.” One of the men speaks up, pointing at Jimin.

“No. The deal was her.”

“Well the deal has changed, I want him too,” he eyes Jimin up and down. Namjoon and Jungkook instantly hide Jimin with their bodies.

You struggle in Minho’s hold. “Minho, what are you doing? What deal did you make with them?!”

Minho stares at Jimin. “Anyone else but him.”

The man looks between the singers. “He’s the prettiest, I want him.”

Minho pauses. Even if he wanted to hurt Namjoon, he still felt a sense to protect Jimin. It had been his job for so many years, and then it had been his decision to keep protecting the singers even after his position wasn’t official any longer. You, he didn’t care about you. But Jimin, deep down, he still cared about him. He couldn’t let something horrible happen to him, not when Minho could stop it.

Minho exhales exasperatedly. “Not him,” he says, pointing the gun at the thief.

“Minho, come on now, you and I both know there’s no bullets in that gun.” What? You elbow Minho in the stomach, running towards the kitchen when he doubles over in pain.

“Grab her!” one of the thieves yells.

Namjoon punches one of the men too distracted by you. Jungkook lunges for your knives on the ground and unleashes all the pent up fury he’s felt on the unlucky few who had tried to hold down the singer. Namjoon and Jimin exchange looks with Minho.

They charge the thieves.

---

“Leave me alone!” You swing a pan in the thief’s face as he swings his knife and both metal pieces clang together. You fall hard on the kitchen tile as he lunges at you. There’s more men, all armed, all coming for you, and the only weapon you have is a stupid pan!

-

You feel like you’re hyperventilating, trapped in such a small space. You bang on the door, crying. It finally opens and someone is shoved inside with you. He’s cut, bruised, thoroughly beat up.

“Piss off your new friends?”

“Not really, we’re going to finish what we started, yeah?”

“Touch me and I'll kill you.”

“I would like to see you try.”

“What happened? They didn’t take Jimin, did they?!” you ask, horrified.

“No, they escaped,” Minho grunts, thumb running over his cut lip.

“Oh. Good,” you say, relieved.

Minho laughs. “And you? Did you forget you’re their prisoner? They are going to do whatever they want to you?”

“If the others escaped, they’ll come for me.”

“You’ve got them whipped for you, must be really good pussy.”

“Ugh, maybe I’m more to them than just a hole, you fuck?”

“You really think they would give you a second glance under normal circumstances?”

“No! I don’t!” you scream. God, he pisses you off. “I thought you would have, that’s why I kissed you! Big mistake that fucking was.”

“So what, you kissed me because you thought I would lower my standards for you?” he jabs. 

Oh, this fucker! He says that like he wasn’t flirting with you for months on end before you kissed him. “You know what?” you cross your arms, “Yeah, I did, Minho. I thought maybe, just maybe, it would be nice to try and have something more with you so we wouldn’t have to, you know, die alone in an apocalypse. But then you ended up being the most vile despicable jackass-”

Minho throws your body against the door, arm pressed against your throat. “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! This is all your fault! You ruined everything!”

The door opens just in time for you to catch in oxygen before you pass out. “Will you two shut the hell up! Take her to my room,” he says to one of his men, “Minho, you had your turn, now it’s mine.” It’s that thief, the one who wanted Jimin, the one who seems to be in charge. You scream until the wind is kicked out of you. “Don’t hit her face.”

You crumble inward, trying to cover your body from their kicks until one lifts you up, carrying you over his shoulder while you scream and cry.

-

Shit, the windows are boarded up. The bed, like everything in this building, looks disgusting. Everything else, you notice grimacing, is barren, like this room only had one purpose.

The door slides open.

“Okay girl, we can do this the hard way or the easy way.”

“I’m not easy.” You move to the furthest corner, pressing yourself up against the filing cabinet. You just had to wait, you are an expert at waiting, you tell yourself. You can do this, whatever happens, you can move past this, you tell yourself. Horrible things happen to you all the time, you’re just gonna have to add this to the tally.

“Good, I prefer the hard way.”

Please, god, let them find you soon.

You’ve met men like this before, men that think you owe them something just because you’re a woman. “Smile more,” men who think your body is for their eyes, created for their hands and their mouths and their-

You bite down on his hand, digging your nails into his face. He hits you, hard, but not hard enough to knock you out thankfully. He’s not that kind of man, at least, you think bitterly. He is the kind of man who has no qualms making you know how much stronger he is than you, making it hurt, wants you pretty but also will give you a black eye for daring to go against him. There’s so many men like that now. You feel lucky knowing you have men around you that don’t act like that.

You scream again.

---

Jungkook leaps up the stairs, taking two at a time. He’s in the lead. He’s always been fast, but this time, after months of running from monsters, and an insane amount of stamina, he’s like lightning.

This office building is small, but there are so many floors, and they’ve already cleared the first two without finding you. But Jungkook has a suspicion the men he’s searching for are on the top floor, so he trusts his gut and he races to find you.

Jungkook is the first to open the door to a group full of men surprised to have a visitor. He stays in the stair well, he’s not crazy enough to run in there alone yet, since the others haven’t caught up to him. He still has to keep a level head, let them come to him, let him knock each one of those bastards out. He grabs another and throws him over his back and down the stairs where his brothers are about to arrive.

Maybe Jungkook is a little crazy at this point, he throws someone over the railing into the open space between stairwells and the man screams as he falls five flights down, body clanging onto metal as his bones break. Jungkook uses his arms to defend from knives and gets his jacket and skin sliced in the process, yet he keeps on swinging while blood drips down his fists. Yeah, Jungkook is a bit crazed, but he has good reason to be as he hears you scream again for help.

He runs inside once he has his brothers behind him. He runs towards the sound of your screaming, knocking away anyone who gets in his way. He feels his restraint slipping, he feels like he might enjoy killing whoever is hurting you. It’s already been too long, your voice sounds small and broken. He throws his full weight into the locked door, knocking into the wood with his shoulder until the lock busts.

“Don’t even think about it.” You have a knife to your neck, your body shielding the man who has you captive, just another way he’s found to use your body. “Let me go and I won’t kill her.”

“Let her go or I will kill you.” The fighting has stopped. It’s clear to both men who won as Namjoon and Seokjin arrive to help Jungkook. The man holds onto you a bit tighter, he realizes he might be the only one left and by the look in his eyes he’s planning on surviving until the very end. He shuffles your bodies closer to the door, closer to his escape.

It’s an achingly slow pace as he makes sure no one can attack him from behind. He looks at the bodies of his men on the ground, realizing just how dangerous this group of yours is, he should have never made a deal with that damn Minho, he should have let him fight his own battles, now he’s standing in a graveyard of his own men.

You pass by each member and you can’t make eye contact, you let your tears silently fall, let your body be pulled in hopes it will all be over soon. He finally makes it to the stairwell, relieved. “Give me your word you won’t follow me and I’ll let you have her.”

“Fine,” Namjoon speaks for the group.

He presses his knife into your neck. “That doesn’t sound too convincing.”

Suddenly, his grip lessens. He drops his knife and, finally, you can get away. You turn around and see his surprised wide eyes. You feel just as shocked as he looks when he makes a gurgling noise instead of speaking.

And suddenly Dev’s equally shocked face pops up from behind the man’s shoulder.

He had been too scared to enter the office room, but looks like he hadn’t been too scared to stab the man holding you in the back of the neck. “I did it. I killed him,” he says, equally excited and petrified as the man falls onto the ground.

You look at him in shock. “Yeah.”

---

“He’s bleeding!”

“Taehyung, no…”

“Shit, I’ve never been stabbed before, this hurts.” Taehyung winces.

“Oh god, how do we stop the bleeding,” Jimin asks, panic rising in hiss voice.

Namjoon answers, “There’s one way, we have to burn it with something hot. Find a small knife-” 

“I’m going to be stabbed twice?!”

“Wouldn’t it be better to, like, stitch it, with a needle or something?” Taehyung grimaces, the thought of being sewn together without any pain medicine is making him feel sick.

“What about the internal bleeding?”

“Oh god.”

“You’re going to be fine, your body just needs to heal...someone start a fire!”

“OH GOD.”

“Jungkook, I’m fine, go help them,” you tell him. Jungkook doesn’t believe you are fine at all. Your eye is swollen, your shirt is missing buttons, your neck is bruised and who knows what else he can’t see is bruised. 

“You’re bleeding too?!”

“Oh,” Hoseok winces, clutching his side. “Yeah, it’s not as bad as Taehyung.” Except it does look as bad as Taehyung’s wound. Hoseok's whole left side is covered in blood. You start to cry again, feeling responsible. 

Jin is the one who cauterizes the wounds. Namjoon and Jungkook holds the members down. Hoseoks passes out but Taehyung somehow stays conscious, screaming bloody murder the entire time. It’s going to be another memory that will have you up at night, crying and shaking when you remember his shrieking. This safe house you’re in has a fair amount of supplies and an excessive amount of alcohol. They use it to sanitize the wounds as best they can. 

“You helped us escape. I’m not going to kill you,” Namjoon tells Minho, who sits on the floor, hands duct taped.

“I’m going to kill him!” Jungkook yells.

“No, you won’t,” Namjoon says, calming the youngest down. He turns to Minho. “What do you know about this place? Is there a pharmacy around.” He stays defiantly silent. “Minho!” The leader looks ready to kill, even after his promise not to.

“They won’t be anything left.”

“We have to try, let’s go. Get up!” He yanks the former bodyguard up.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” Jungkook says to you. “I’ll look for something for you too,” he says, so softly. You just nod, worried if you were to open your mouth you might start wailing.

Jin is left with Jimin and Yoongi to take care of the two wounded members and you. “I’m so sorry,” you cry, holding onto Taehyung’s hand. 

“This isn’t your fault, don’t blame yourself. You’ve saved me more times than I can remember, I’m sorry we didn’t find you sooner,” he winces.

Jimin holds Taehyung’s other hand. “You’re going to get better, don’t worry, and then you’ll have a cool scar.” Jin and Yoongi are tending to Hoseok who thankfully hasn’t woken up from the pain yet. Yoongi brushes the hair out of Hoseok’s face, cleaning up the blood he finds on his skin. He’s meticulous and careful about it. Jin asks you if you want help cleaning the blood off you too. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Let him help you,” Jimin says.

“We can do it later, I don’t want to be…touched right now.” You mumble. 

“Were you-”

“Don’t push her right now, Jin.” Jimin speaks up for you. 

Jimin holds out his free hand to you, letting you take it if you want. You do. He makes you feel grounded and safe. And you feel small and weak and tired at the same time. You lie down next to Taehyung, bringing your knees into your body, you hug yourself into his side, crying.

Jimin mirrors your actions, resting for now. As long as he holds both your hands, and he can keep an eye on both of you, he can allow himself to relax and recover just for the moment.

Seokjin rubs his face, exhausted. Yet his body still feels wound up and anxious, he can’t relax just yet. He works to clean the space of death. He drags the bodies left inside and heaves them over the railing, creating a pile of corpses at the bottom, hoping it will become a deterrent for any other hostile strangers and then works to make food for when you all wake up, doing what he can to help. He tries to remain positive, he tells himself it could have been so much worse. 

“There was no penicillin. Nothing, not even Tylenol.”

You wake up hearing Namjoon’s voice but keep your eyes closed as the men talk. “And Hoseok has a fever,” Yoongi says.

“I’ve searched this place from top to bottom, they have enough liquor to drown a regiment and no damn medicine,” Jin says.

You stand up on shaky legs. “ I know where we might find medicine.”

---

“Maybe they’re not there.”

“No, there’s a code for knocking, I don’t know it.”

“Hey, we know you’re in there. Please open the door. We need your help, please! We’ll give you anything.”

You hear the door click, and you see the weary faces of the group you left. You explain to them the situation, hoping they have some medicine to trade you or at least know where you might find some medicine. “I have something that could help.” The woman who isn’t Jinyoung holds up half a bottle of pills. “This is amoxicillin I found a while ago.”

“We’ll trade you anything for it.”

The woman thinks for a bit and finally decides. “Seokjin.”

“WHAT?!”

“Just for the night.”

“WHAT?!”

“Fine. yeah, I’ll do it.”

“Wait a fucking a minute, no!” Her boyfriend speaks up. “Honey, are you crazy?!” He turns to your group. “You have food, don’t you? Give us that instead.”

“And Seokjin!”

“Have you lost your mind?!”

“Honey, stay out of this?”

“You’re really going to cheat on me?”

“Oh please, don’t act like you have been soo faithful to me! Before our city was attacked you would come home past midnight almost every night!”

“I was with my coworkers!!”

“Yeah, with Eunji, right? That slut you worked with!!”

You turn to Namjoon, Yoongi and Seokjin while the couple continues to argue, saying “That’s not enough medicine for both of them…”

“It’s better than nothing.”

“There is a house four blocks from here. A pharmacist used to live there. There might the medicine you’re looking for there,” Jinyoung speaks up. “I c-can take you!” She says, her face turning red.

“Okay, Namjoon, you and Yoongi go with her, and I’ll stay here with y/n and…get the other medicine.”

“Seokjin, y-you don’t have to do this,” you say incredulously. Namjoon and Yoongi agree.

“Stop. Yes I do! If this can save them, I will.” Seokjin glares at the three of you, already making up his mind.

Seokjin looks so serious. He looks angry, yet determined. He is putting on a brave face, you want to cry for him. “Jin…” 

“It’s okay, y/n.” He turns to the group. “Yeah, okay, deal. Food and me.” 

“I’ll help you look for the medicine too,” Jinyoung’s boyfriend says, looking over at the idols wearily.

“Hey young lady, I have something for your eye.” The old man says. You sit waiting, once more, in this store, waiting for Namjoon and Yoongi to return, for Jin and that horrible women to be done with whatever she is doing to him upstairs, waiting and hoping Taehyung and Hoseok are okay.

“It’s alright.” You sit with your knees pulled in, much less in the mood to talk than before, sick to your stomach, body aching. The four of you were so beaten and bruised, it’s taken you a couple days to find this place again, what if you get back and it’s already too late?

“I don’t expect anything in return for it, it’s in good faith, I promise you.”

You start to cry, your head buried in your knees.

He sighs, puts his hands on his knees to stand up and moves towards you hesitantly. “Look up for me.” He puts on some antiseptic gel from a tube that looks almost empty, carefully applying the gel to the cuts and bruises around your eye.

“Thank you,” you mumble.

“I’m happy to help.”

Waiting for Seokjin to come downstairs feels like an eternity. The boyfriend sits in the corner away from you, completely dejected. You wish you had some kind words to give him, but you have nothing nice left to say, after everything you’ve went through.

Jin enters first, walking silently over to you and sitting down. The distance between you feels so far away. He’s clutching the bottle of pills so tightly the tips of his fingers are red.

You glare at the women when she finally comes downstairs. What the hell is wrong with her? How could she take advantage of the situation like that? How could she use Seokjin like that, what kind of fan is she?!

You move your body slightly so from where she’s sitting, now next to her miserable boyfriend, she can’t see Seokjin. You want to protect him from her. Just thinking about what she could have done to him makes you want to rip out her eyes, makes you think about what was done to you. She deserves the same fate as that man. 

You haven’t looked at Jin. You know if you do, and see his expression, see your own self in his eyes, you might really try to kill her. 

Namjoon and Yoongi come back looking accomplished and put you in hopeful spirits. You say goodbye one last time to the group. You hug Jinyoung, thanking her. Yoongi and Namjoon hug her goodbye too and she turns an even brighter shade of red, smiling happily and clutching a book to her chest, a medicinal plant book she found in the pharmacist's house that she shyly asked the rappers to sign when they were waking back to the store. They happily obliged, grateful because they found just what they were looking for thanks to her.

-

“Have you ever given someone a shot before?” you ask wearily.

“There’s a first time for everything,” Jin mumbles. The penicillin bottle has a few doses, so they decide to split it evenly amongst both members. The pills are being saved if they need more medicine.

Jungkook pulls you aside. “They found Tylenol for you and I found this if you need it.” He hands you a few Tylenol and another box of pills. You’ve never seen those Korean characters together. You ask him, “what is it?”

“It’s a pill to take if you, um, if you need it, if so, so they won’t be any pregnancies if you take it,” he stutters.

You nod, taking the Tylenol and pocketing the pills and glancing over to Jin who seems to be diligently looking over Taehyung and Hoseok, a hard frown etched across his face.

“I’m ready for help, if you want to help me. I can ask Namjoon, if you’re not feeling up to it anymore,” you ask Jin. Jin stands up, happy to do something to take his mind off things.

You didn’t want to go into any of the rooms on the top floor, so you and Seokjin walk quietly one flight down.

This office space looks like it used to be full of computers, there’s electrical pieces littered around the floor like someone came and used each one for target practice. You both sit in two beaten up office chairs. “I’ve never bathed myself with alcohol before,” you mutter, bemused. Pulling off your jacket. You notice there’s already bruises forming on your arms. 

Seokjin works to clean off the dried blood from your neck where the knife was pressed. “I’m sorry,” Seokjin says, looking over the bruises.

“I’m sorry too,” you say, trying to catch his eyes, but he won’t look up. “I wish I could take a shower, wash everything away.”

“Yeah,” Seokjin agrees. His eyes start to water, worrying you.

“Do you want a hug?” You ask. He nods. The plastic pieces crunch under your shoes as you move closer, hugging him gently, letting him decide if he wants more. He wraps his arms around you, hugging you tightly and you bite your tongue to keep yourself from yelping when he touches a bruise on your back. He pulls you into his lap. You feel safe and held together in his embrace. And Seokjin feels the chaos inside him finally settling. 

You were both taken advantage of differently, but in that moment it didn’t matter, you both felt the same kind of anger and injustice, for yourselves, and for one another. And in that moment you both just wanted to be held by someone you loved, hoping to erase the touches left by those before. 

You watch Jin break down the door to the break room inside this office. It only takes him three hits with his shoulder. You rush forward, your knife raised, worried you’ll find a monster inside. No monsters, only-“No way.”

“That’s a lot of ramen.”

You and Jin look at each other smiling. There’s enough snacks for days! This discovery might not equal all the pain you’ve both endured, but it was a nice shift, it only takes the slightest push to turn things around. Jin is smiling again now and that is worth celebrating. You make a silent promise to yourself that you’ll bring some to Jinyoung and the old man before leaving Hongcheon. Goodness still needs to be rewarded. Happiness still needs to be celebrated.

---

Looks like Taehyung and Hoseok are in the bottom of the poll. I decided readers will have more input into the story this way. Yoongi seems like a fan favorite (for now) so I hope you enjoyed his relationship progression with y/n, and poor Taehyung and Hoseok, well, I’ll let readers decide, what might happen next chapter? Go vote!

#bts fanfic #bts smut #bts zombie au #ot7 x reader #bts x reader #namjoon smut #bts apocalypse au #bts fantasy au #bts crack au #bts slow burn

[discotenny]

Lost you once

After your death, Akechi struggles to make the right choice.

Goro Akechi x Reader <3k words, angst, P5R spoilers, acceptance of death, Akechi cries a lot>

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It’s the first time he sees you in months and it feels just like the first time he ever met you.

You’re lost in the station, looking around in confusion as you try to decipher signs that don’t look familiar. You accidentally bump into him and Akechi has to stop himself from letting out a yell, to stop himself from unleashing the culmination of a bad day onto some unsuspecting stranger.

Besides, you were already terrified enough, having gotten off at the wrong stop with little to no money left on your train card.

You chided yourself while explaining the situation to him- rambling self deprecating thoughts about being stupid for not refilling your balance, for falling asleep on your original train ride, and for bumping into him from behind.

He thought you were pathetic at the first meeting. A bumbling idiot, sweating with every word you rambled out- he had to hold himself back from letting his inner annoyance leak into his eyes.

Something about you sparked something strange within him. You reminded him a little too much of who he once was. And maybe that’s why he helped you that day. Why he bought you a ticket to Yongen-Jaya. Why he sat next to you on the train. And why he let himself accept your thank you gift of a half finished pack of gum.

Akechi made a joke that just one piece would have been less sad than a half eaten pack and he could see your lip tremble at his words. Akechi chose to ignore the strange guilt that came with the sight.

Following that, you promised one day you’d give him a proper thank you gift the next time you saw him. Akechi didn’t really believe there would be a next meeting, but it didn’t hurt to entertain the thought.

It’s the first time he sees you in months and it feels like the first time he saved you.

In another stroke of bad luck (or maybe fate), you find yourself falling into the Metaverse as you run away from some creeps trying to rope you into a ponzi scheme.

You’re terrified, shaking at the surreal and unfamiliar setting of a twisted version of Shibuya. From the corner of your eye you see running figures of blacks and reds. Out of instinct you hide, afraid of whatever monsters this strange world possesses.

That’s where he finds you. Hiding in an alleyway from sentient ATMs and shadowy businessmen. You’re just as scared as the first time he saw you, even more so in fact.

Once again he finds you pathetic, shaking like a leaf in the wind. But the sight of someone like you alive in the metaverse is a fascinating one he can’t help but admire. Deep inside he wonders if you’re different from others, but he squishes that thought.

He would have just killed you there, had you not immediately jumped into his arms when he first spotted you. Even worse- you had somehow guessed his identity under the mask- claiming the surprised sound he made was the exact same as the one from the train station.

He had every reason to kill you then and there, end your existence as he continued his mission to run away from the thieves, and no one would be the wiser as to where a pathetic nobody like you ended up.

Yet he didn’t. And that might’ve been the worst mistake of his life.

Because maybe if he killed you he wouldn’t have gone to dinner with you after. Maybe he wouldn’t have taken you home. Maybe he wouldn’t have spoken more and more with you.

Maybe if he killed you then he wouldn’t have fallen in love with you.

Maybe he wouldn’t desire your touch through every hour of every day. Maybe he wouldn’t go to sleep drifting to dreams of you. Maybe he wouldn’t live the rest of his days craving your form.

And maybe if he killed you, he wouldn’t have lost you.

It’s the first time he sees you in months and the way you run into his arms has never felt so wrong.

The last time he held you, he knew it would be the last. He spent the day showering you in love, kissing you all over, holding you as to savor everything you had to offer. He wanted you to feel safe in his last moments with you, how you always felt when you were by his side.

Going into Shido’s palace, he had every intention of never coming back.

He expected you to be devastated. Spend days crying in your bed over his disappearance. Be upset, maybe even angry at the thought of him abandoning you for his selfish goals. He expected you would be devastated, but he also expected you would move on eventually. That maybe your anger towards him would turn to hate, that your upset would turn to disdain. That you would look upon his imprint on your life as a dark part you would never long for again.

It’s for the best, he said to himself. As always, he ignored the guilt that came with knowing he would cause you turmoil.

But Akechi never expected you to come to Ren, begging him to help him. He never expected you to force them to take you, for you to venture willingly into the dangerous world of the metaverse- just for him.

Akechi looked into your eyes through his red mask and saw a flash of bravery that was never there before. The spark made him stop in his tracks, pause in his monologue, freeze over as he realized the best of you only came when he was at his worst.

But the guilt is squashed as soon as Ren opens his mouth. And all hell breaks loose.

The battle between the thieves and himself is something he wishes you never saw. Seeing his humanity break, letting loose the feelings he tried to keep you safe from, his desperation to prove he was worth living-

He tried not to look at you throughout the struggle. If he did, he knew his resolve would fall apart and he’d do nothing more than cry in your arms.

As he stands beaten and defeated in front of you and the thieves, he still doesn’t meet your eyes. Even as you try and comfort him with words of love and assurance the ringing in his ears tunes them out. He doesn’t hear your chiding, your cries, and he certainly doesn’t hear the first “I love you” towards him that slips past your lips.

As he accepts his defeat and his own inferiority, he notices a familiar presence creep out from the shadows.

The foul words that his shadow spits out make Akechi want to claw out of his own skin. Towards the thieves, towards himself, towards you- horrible words and terrible truths fill the air. Things he tried so desperately to hide from you.

His killings, his past, his life as a living puppet for Shido to toy with as he pleases- all of it is laid out for you to hear.

He notices the pistol attached to the shadow’s waist and recognizes the glint in his empty eyes. He swallows the defiance that rises from his throat, the part of him that wants to prove the monster in front of him wrong. Through it all Akechi realizes this is where he dies.

Acceptance is what causes him to raise his own gun towards the him in front of him.

And when his gun raises, you run.

It happens in a flash.

Two gunshots.

One towards him, one towards the button to raise the wall that separates him and the thieves.

Two people move.

You push him out of the way, he falls to the ground.

One wall.

And he can’t see you anymore.

Laughter in a mockery of his own fills the side of the wall inaccessible to him, descending in tone as they slowly disappear into the floor along with the source. Your shocked gasps and painful winces follow in turn.

He screams until his throat is raw, pounding at the wall as he tries to claw his way to the other side. He promised your safety, not this.

You speak to him the best you can, over the pain in your stomach and the agony in his heart. Shakiness lines your voice as you chide him, telling him to shut up and listen to you. Through your sentences you cry. And you let out the second “I love you” directed towards him, and the first “I love you” he actually hears.

By the time he can reply with his own declaration you don’t have it in you to answer. And despite his acceptance of his own death just seconds prior, acceptance at his own survival makes him want to do nothing but scream.

The months that follow leave him hollow, an empty shell at who he once was. He watches from the sidelines as the thieves save the world. He watches from the streets as Maruki makes a mockery of Tokyo.

And Akechi watches as you cry into his scarf, scared and terrified just as he remembered you to be the first time he met you. He holds you and he knows this isn’t supposed to be. He shuts his eyes tightly, squeezing your shaking form.

Akechi brings you to Ren because he doesn’t know what else to do.

But Ren’s changed. There’s a new sense of melancholy that’s settled in his soul, different from the overwhelming grief that’s taken over Akechi’s. The first words he speaks explain everything about this ‘new’ him.

“So this is what he meant.” Monotone. Void of all the underlying confidence and ego he used to carry himself with. Filled with nothing but acceptance of something the two of you cannot comprehend. Ren urges the two of you to come inside Leblanc and sit with him at a booth.

Akechi takes the inside of the seat and you grasp his hand as you sit down. After a moment of silence you’re the one that chooses to speak first.

“Why am I here?” The crack in your voice makes Akechi want to shatter.

You look up at Ren and your eyes plead in desperation for an answer. Akechi can’t help but look away, staring at the table as he refuses to bear witness to the cruelty of your situation.

Ren sighs and twiddles his thumbs on the wood. “Maruki came by yesterday. He offered me something in exchange for allowing him to merge mementos and reality together. I-”

Akechi sees red and stands up, letting go of your hand, pointing an accusatory finger towards Ren. “So you let this happen? You allowed him to do this?!”

“I didn’t! But I woke up this morning and everything… Everyone was different. All of my- our friends are somehow in these idealized, contradictory lives. It doesn’t make any sense… And I- I don’t know how to fix this.”

“And why aren’t you the only one affected huh? He offered you something but you’re still here-”

“It’s this. He offered me this.”

The walls of the cafe seem to dissipate as you soak in the information Ren just revealed. Akechi quiets, eyes widening as his hands fall to his sides. Ren looks away, a grimace finding itself on his features.

“I just wanted you to be happy, both of you. All of us. You shouldn’t have been involved from the start y/n. I- I shouldn’t have brought you with us and I regret it every single fucking day. It was my fault, I’m sor-”

You reach over the table and place a comforting hand on his own. “Please don’t apologize.” Despite the sadness that laces your words you’re smiling.

Ren returns your smile with a solemn one. He turns to Akechi, “When you disappeared after it felt like that dream was as good as gone. I didn’t know you were even alive until today…”

“So by bringing me back Maruki thought that would…”

“Fix us…” Akechi cuts in and his hands are shaking. The anger that claws up his body is familiar. It’s visceral, and he still refuses to look at you. “That bastard…”

The two of you leave Leblanc shortly after, accepting an invitation to come back tomorrow to discuss the situation further with Ren. The streets are quiet as Akechi leads you home, holding your hand but not looking at your stare.

“Goro…” He doesn’t need to meet your eyes to know you’re looking at him in pity. “I…” Your hesitation makes his throat close. Are you scared of what he might do? Are you thinking back to the last time you saw him angry? The last time you saw him ever?

“I… don’t want you to accept this reality.”

“What?” The smile that finds itself on his face is a front for his disbelief. His eyes are closed despite turning towards you and that makes you frown.

“Look at me, Goro.”

He doesn’t want to. The last time he stared at you up close was the morning of your last. The last time he looked in your eyes was moments before your passing. The last time he looked in your eyes was the day a part of him died.

But your hand gently grasps his chin and forces him to drown. He can’t stop the tears that fall from his eyes as his eyes finally meet your own.

“Reject this, please…”

Akechi doesn’t say more because if he does it’ll be a verbal acknowledgement that you weren’t supposed to be here. He doesn’t say more because if he does he doesn’t know what’s going to happen to you.

He was supposed to be your protector, but he’s reduced to a shaking child desperate to cling onto the one source of love in his life. The more you take him into your hold the more he crumples, letting out sobs in a reply he can’t bring himself to speak. He must look pathetic, he thinks to himself.

“I-”

Your hand comes to his head, caressing his hair as he cries. Through sniffles and hiccups he allows himself to hug you back.

“I’m so, so sorry,” His voice is lined with water as he feels himself begin to grovel.

“I know,” your voice is soft yet all it serves is to intensify his turmoil.

“I don’t want to lose you again, I-”

“It’s alright.”

“Is it selfish that I want to say no?”

You pull away from him, holding him by the shoulders and looking up at him with your wonderful, shining eyes.

“It’s not selfish Goro. It’s just love.”

You kiss him, and your lips are just as soft as he remembers them to be. The same lips that would bring him out of nightmares and darkness. The same lips that would manifest a sense of love for himself that never existed without your presence. It’s innocence that lines your movements, just like the innocence that has followed you since the first day he ever met you.

When you draw back to take a breath he finds himself chasing after you in desperation. His hand comes to your chin as he tries to pull you closer to him, to try and merge your souls so yours can’t escape from his again.

There’s a sick feeling in his stomach that if your lips represent innocence, his represents the ever growing darkness seeping out from within him. With the merger of your love, Akechi doesn’t want to know if the product is something that can withstand what has to come next.

His lips supplement all the words he refuses to say. They pour apologies into your being and with every movement he hopes you understand just how much he missed you and how much he needed you.

When you part you’re panting, staring up at him in awe and wonder and it makes him want to sob.

“I…” Akechi wants to move away from your gaze, from any possible judgment he feels you may let out. Ironically, it’s the intensity of your look that keeps him chained to eye contact. “I cannot live in a world without you.”

“But you have to.”

He can’t bring himself to say that he knows but you know it’s there anyways.

“It’s going to be okay Goro.”

“How do you know that? It hasn’t been okay since… I haven’t been okay since.”

“I know because I believe in you,” your thumb rubs his cheek, red from the cold and tears. “I know you think that what happened is your fault but it was my choice Goro. You can’t take that away just so you can deny yourself the chance to live.”

The shine in your eyes is unmistakable. The same look you gave him before he never saw you again, bravery. Akechi grabs your hand because he knows what’s going to happen next.

“You can’t do this,” he chokes up, “You can’t sacrifice yourself again for me.”

You take a step back, still holding onto his cheek and looking at him with those incredible, shining eyes. “I love you, Goro.”

“I love you too. I love you, I love you, I-” He hopes if he repeats it enough it’ll convince you to stay.

“And because I love you, I can’t stand to see you this way.”

You kiss his cheek for one more time and whisper in his ear.

“Live your life Goro. Help Ren and save the world. And when we see each other again, tell me everything,” your lips leave his cheek so gently it's like you were never there.

“I will, I promise, I promise you I will,” his gaze glosses over as he takes in all of your form. Your warmth, your eyes, your kindness, your lips, your bravery, your smile, all of you. Akechi closes his eyes and there’s a silent I love you that doesn’t need to be said.

The embrace of your arms dissipates, his hand closes around nothing, and all that’s left in your wake is the glitter of sparkle and shine. It’s the last time he ever sees you in this life, but it’s nothing like the first time he lost you.

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RAHHHHHHh !!!!! I hope you guys enjoyed this !!!! I enjoyed writing this GOD I LOVE MT BAB TGEFUWHFIWEHFJQI !!!

#persona 5 x reader #persona 5 royal x reader #goro akechi #goro akechi x reader #akechi x reader #persona 5 x reader headcanons #persona 5 x reader imagines #persona 5 imagines #persona 5 headcanons #persona 5 #persona 5 royal imagines #persona 5 royal #akira kurusu #ren amamiya #persona 5 x reader angst #angst #goro akechi x reader angst