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yoongsisbae · 2 years

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Run Run Run - Hwarang Freestyle (Part 4)

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

Heeeey, miss me? :’D I wanted to give you guys something cute and funny to read cause life sucks. I mean, there’s still zombies O_O but they are not the only villains this time round >_> Enjoy! <3

Warnings: death, monsters, blood, fighting, killing, gory details, injury, angst, seduction, restraints, time travel?, abuse of power, general chaos and confusion :’)

Word Count: 10k

---

Fuck. It’s definitely not zombies driving those vehicles.

Your vantage point on top of the car’s roof was perfect when it came to fighting off slow zombies, their brains rotted and too dumb to figure out how to reach you, but now you and Jungkook were stuck and exposed, dangerously out in the open like two cans on top of a fence ready to be shot at.

It’s impressive how the cars line up in formation, one right next to the other, strategically blocking the road so your group can’t leave.

Men jump out with spears and large knives and work quickly to kill the remaining zombies in the area. You stand on top of the car with Jungkook watching all of it, both of you frozen by the display.

You can tell they know how to fight, how to survive. Thirty or so gather around you, an intimidating group of young men with short hair and dark expressions, like soldiers who just came home from battle after seeing the horrors of war.

They weren’t completely filthy, but they looked like they had been working all day without rest, clothes covered in deep brown oxidized blood. You look down at your own clothes, similar stains across your shirt and pants. After clearing the area the men line up, weapons still poised in their fists, as though they were about to run into battle again…against you!

Well, this is a predicament you did not plan for.

One old man steps in front of them all, and by the way he carries himself you could tell he was not to be messed with.

“Come down,” he orders with a flick of his hand. “Out of the car.” The car doors beneath you swing open and those inside hesitantly file out of the vehicle, the high pitched creaking noises of the metal car frame and gravel crunching under shoes becomes painfully loud as their group stares down your group.

You exchange glances with Jungkook as he gnaws on his bottom lip. He steps down first, reaching his hands out and helping you down, arms kept protectively around your waist.

“Now what is going on here?”

Namjoon speaks, “We are trying to get to the city-”

The group of men start laughing, giving each other knowing looks. What do they know that you don’t?

The old man stares curiously at Taehyung, as if he recognized him. His striking face was undeniable, such a contrast to the weary looking group of men in front of you. Whispers begin slowly amongst the line of men, until one of the men, whom you noticed has been looking at your group stunned, stumbles forward, pointing right at Namjoon with wide eyes. “You’re Kim Namjoon. You’re BTS?!”

Namjoon nods in the man’s direction, but their leader does not look impressed. “So you are,” he says thoughtfully.

“We just want to reach Seoul.” Namjoon says again. “We just want to pass through without any conflict.”

“Bangtan Sonyeondan,” he muses, “Wow, you’ve done well for yourselves so far from home.” He scrutinizes each member, walking down the line. “...with two foreigners…” He scratches the stubble across his chin. “We haven’t seen another group this big in so long.”

He walks back to stand in front of Namjoon, sighing, his expression hardening. “A big group like this must have lots of food. Where are your supplies, Kim Namjoon from BTS?”

Namjoon stiffens, jaw clenching while he thinks about how to answer his question, but the old man seems to be in a hurry, pulling out a large knife from his back pocket and pointing it at the leader.

He spits on the ground. “There are no kings in this world anymore. We all die the same way,” he warns, staring at Namjoon. Your group watches the exchange on edge, fists clenched, ready to defend their leader. You grind your teeth at his words, holding yourself together.

If you were alone, you would have done anything possible to keep your supplies from getting stolen, you have done everything possible. But this time, all you want is to keep everyone safe. You look to Namjoon, hoping he has a plan out of this.

“It doesn’t need to come to that, it doesn't have to-” Namjoon says calmly. “What the world needs now is kind leaders, yes?”

“Kindness...” The man sighs and moves down the line again, surprising you by pointing the knife to your throat instead. “All out of that.”

Why did he have to point the knife at you?! Because you’re a woman? A foreigner? Typical.

Now that he’s directly in front of you, you see the scars across the old man’s face, how cold his expression becomes. It makes you wonder, if he was always like that or...what ever has happened between this moment and the day you landed in Korea has changed this man so harshly that his frown lines are now permanently etched across his weathered skin.

Will that faraway detached look that ‘this needs to be done’ become you eventually, all of you? No, you have already been through so much, and you still find reasons to smile. Seven reasons to be exact.

“Where are the supplies?” he asks Namjoon again, turning his head towards the leader. You look over to Namjoon too, noticing how fright has washed over his features…and anger. The tension is rising, you have to do something quick-

“Uh Hello? Uh my name is y/n.” You timidly introduce yourself, you make sure to mispronounce the words, the way you used to when you first started learning Korean.

Now that you’re in the spotlight, you feel even more uncomfortable. The new group of men stare at you like you’re a piece of meat. “Where’s the supplies, girl?”

“Sup-plies?” Everyone remains silent and you tilt your head, looking at him like you don’t understand. He repeats the question at the group, yelling this time, spit spraying from his mouth.

Ew. “What did he say?” You ask Yoongi in English, who seems to be working out the reason you’ve suddenly forgotten how to converse in Korean.

“Open the trunk. Now. Do it!”

He moves the knife just under your chin, the tip grazing your neck. Everyone shifts at the small dangerous movement, the tension rising once more. You glance to Yoongi again, the member closest to the trunk. If you could scream at him to open the damn thing already you would have, but you couldn’t exactly make any sudden movements right now. Instead you raise your eyebrows at him, eyeline moving quickly to where you want him to go.

Yoongi, remaining as stoic as ever, silently moves to the car and pops the latch up, stepping aside and crossing his arms.

In the tense silence all that is heard is a soft patter of falling items hitting the ground as the overfilled trunk accommodates for the new space.

Both groups remain silent as the old man stalks closer to your trunk.

“What the fuck is this?!”

Everyone turns as the man kicks a very cute alpaca into the street. The old man comes back into view holding an armful of stuffed alpaca dolls and drops them in the empty space between you and his men.

“Where’s your food? Your fucking supplies?!” Technically they were hidden under that massive cluster of alpacas, but he didn’t need to know that.

“F-Food?” you repeat the Korean word back at him, “Farm.” You point in the opposite direction, towards the tunnels of zombies not yet cleared.

“What is this girl trying to say?!” The man yells.

“There’s a farm in that direction, we stayed there. There’s food and supplies,” Seokjin speaks up, following along with your lie. “We only brought our weapons…and uhh, the alpacas…which we also use as...weapons,” he says confidently. “Distractions! They make good distractions.”

“Can’t you just let us travel, Sir?” Taehyung speaks up.

The old man rubs his temples taking in the information and calls one of the younger men over to him with a nod of his head. The young man drops the stuffed animal he was inspecting onto the ground before moving closer. Being the closest, you try to listen to their whispers. They are debating what to do with your group, and by the way they talk you have all clearly given off a very bad first impression.

They finish their conversation and the old man nods, looking over to the younger man, “Tell ‘em.”

“I e-escaped from Seoul. Being there, it was a living hell.” He shudders at the old memories as he explains he was the only one in his family to make it out of the city without a bite. Even his wife-

Well that's not reassuring at all.

“Where in Seoul?” Taehyung asks, curious.

“Gangnam.”

The route you discussed with the guys had the group traveling through Gangnam District. You wince thinking of what’s to come, hoping the situation isn’t as grim as they describe.

“We know it won’t be easy,” Namjoon pauses, “We know the risks and we are prepared to face them...We just want to find our families.”

“You must have a death wish to head to Seoul,” The old man finally addresses your group, “...but…we won’t stop you.” Everyone collectively relaxes at his words. “Wait. Before you leave…we’ll take those packs.”

Shit. You heave a big sigh as the group shoves past the singers and grabs your backpack resting on the car’s dash. You know you shouldn’t get sentimental of things in this post-apocalyptic world but…you really liked that backpack.

“No, this is all I have!” Dev cries as one of the men grabs his pack off his shoulders.

Ugh, shut up Dev.

“And her,” the leader points to you. His men start advancing on you.

“What?!”

You really cannot catch a break, you think.

“We need someone to show us where this farm is.” He says with a smirk on his face.

“Wait! We can show you where it is, we can all go together-” Namjoon protests, suddenly right in front of you.

The man still holds his knife, pointing it accusingly at Namjoon with a twist of his wrist. “You’re headed towards Seoul, aren’t you?” He says, amusedly watching you try to push past Namjoon and the other members who have moved into a tight circle around you. “Just extra room for one. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

Before Namjoon and the rest of the idol group can start a fight they can’t win, you shake off the members and speak up. “Okay, farm! Let’s go!”

Jungkook grabs your arm, confused why you were adamantly trying to get away from them. “What are you doing?!”

You push him away more aggressively than you intended, but you were desperate. There were too many of them, someone you cared about would surely be hurt, someone might even-

“Going with them. Why would I stay here with you? And him?!” You point at Dev. “No thanks.” The men laugh at the flustered foreigner, probably thinking you and Dev were quarreling lovers, ugh.

“Stop.” Yoongi looks upset. You wonder what he’s thinking, and you try to convey to him with your eyes that this is what needs to be done.

“Whatever you’re planning, don’t do it!” Namjoon warns in English.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Turning to him, you speak in a softer tone. “You’ll be fine.” ‘C’mon,’ you think, ‘look into my eyes and just go along with it.’ Any other way and it would just end up in a blood bath, they have to see that too.

“These men are not…zombies.” Namjoon looks at you with pleading eyes, but you’ve already made up your mind. If anyone resists, everyone could very well end up as zombies before the day is over. No, you promised Jimin.

This time, you don’t mind letting them go. You found them once, you’re sure you could do it again.

“I know that, I know. Well, err goodbye.” you give Namjoon a hug. It’s the first time you’ve really hugged him close before, he’s solid and warm and you're mentally kicking yourself, why haven’t you done this before? You take the opportunity to give him a kiss on the cheek and a few men whistle. You use the distraction to take both your knives and slip it in his back pocket. “See ya.”

You go to their leader, slowly walking forward, bowing awkwardly. “They just gave someone as pretty as you up just like that, without even a fight. That’s the difference between us and city men.”

Oh, you can think of so many more differences, all unfavorable. You cock your head to the side, “I don't understand,” you say in broken Korean.

“We lived in the city, it doesn’t mean we grew up in the city.” Yoongi says defiantly, his Daegu accent thick in his anger. “And you’ll see she’s more trouble than she’s worth!”

You scowl but catch yourself quickly before the strangers notice your reaction.

“I think I can handle a woman.”

---

You’re sandwiched in the front of the largest car with the leader and another man. You can see the upset faces of the members through the dirtied cracked windshield of their car. You look over at the young man in the driver's seat, who has been staring at you unabashedly since you got into the car.

‘Calm down, y/n. You’re fine. Just pretend everything is fine and you have no idea what they’re saying.’

“She smells so good, I can smell her from here.” One man in the seats behind you says, staring way too long at your face.

‘You’re a rock. You’re unmovable. You’re not going to break.’

The driver reaches out to touch your hair, and you inch away from him, trying not to show your temper.

‘One with the wind, one with the sky.’

“Look at her boobs. Real live tits.”

‘How long have these men not seen a woman?! Nope, you don’t understand them, as calm as a babbling boob-brook! With really nice boobs…ROCKS.’

The driver moves closer, sniffing your hair, while you remain still, staring ahead. Jungkook looks like he’s going to start swinging at any moment.

“Foreign women like skinship too.” You fight the urge to roll your eyes. You listen quietly, stomach turning at the way they talk about your body. You keep your hands to your side, limiting movements.

The car starts moving and You turn around to stare at the men in the back seat. “Cool sword. Question! Where are your guns? You know, bang bang?” you ask.

“Typical foreigner,” he laughs, he crosses his arms in an x. That’s a good sign, yeah, they just have freaking machetes, great. How the fuck are you going to get out of this? Think, y/n, think!

One of the men in the back seat asks you how to get to the farm in broken English.

Pointing in the opposite direction from which you came, you say “that way,” right towards the tunnel of lurking zombies.

This is a bad idea, this is so so bad.

---

“Did you see the way they were looking at her?!” Jungkook yells, after the last car disappears into the tunnel. “We have to follow them!”

“She gave me her knives.” Namjoon pulls the weapons from his back pocket.

“Oh god, what is she planning now?” Jimin groans.

“She’s going to get herself killed.” Yoongi mutters. Everyone erupts into arguing.

“Where do you think she’s leading them to?” Seokjin asks. “Ohh-”

The group’s conversation is halted as a vehicle speeds out of the tunnel in reverse, a half dozen zombies holding onto the hood.

Standing on the side of the road, the group watches silently as the vehicle zooms straight out of the dark tunnel, past them and all the way into the adjacent tunnel.

Two more cars zoom out, crashing into each other.

And then Namjoon, without words, hands off one of your knives to Yoongi.

---

‘This is why they tell you to wear seat belts,’ you think as the world spins. At least the airbags didn’t deploy! The car’s system dings over and over in warning. ‘Yep,’ you think, ‘The car is definitely broken.’

You should have come up with a better plan, this sucks! You might have broken a rib, it sure feels like it.

Once inside the tunnel and darkness enveloped the cars, you waited until there was the tiniest gleam of an opening at the other side and acted quickly, you jumped on the driver, pressing your knee onto his leg, accelerating the vehicle, and pulling the steering wheel sharply, spinning the car, crashing into the vehicle following directly behind you.

The old man puts you in a headlock and your already blurry vision worsens, but you reach for the shift stick in between you and slam it into reverse, the lurches backwards so fast everyone is thrown off balance before you crash into concrete.

You probably have a concussion now, you think as undead growls fill the empty silence between the vehicle’s beeping. You feel the leader rouse next to you and so you force your limbs to move as well.

You find the door handle and open it, kicking your feet, you and the man fall onto the concrete. When you meet eyes, you see how furious he looks, the blood gushing from his face makes him look monstrous.

You crawl under the car, trying your best to get away from him, kicking at his attempts to grab you.

He pulls you harshly across the concrete, but he releases you when a zombie ambles too close, occupying him for now.

You jump up, opening the driver's door. The man who sits inside was knocked unconscious by the impact, so you throw him out.

When he lands on the ground in a hard thud you wince for him, but you also feel definitely not sorry. The men in the back are disoriented. The car still has power, so you put the window lock on and proceed to hold down every window button, determined not to make this easy for any of them. The windows slowly edge down, disappearing from view.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

You yell back in English, “SORRY, I DON’T UNDERSTAND. LOWER?”

One of the men aims his knife for you, you try to move out of the way but he still slices your shoulder. You throw anything loose you can grab from the dash at him and manage to turn off the car lights, grab the keys, and back away before he slices into you again, dodging an undead before throwing the keys down the tunnel.

The men hide on the car floor, but the one who sliced you is too angry to follow reason, throwing himself out of the window to try and catch you while you run around the wreckage dodging zombie after zombie.

The other men are busy fighting zombies. It would be a shame if you just-

You reach over an unconscious driver and slam your fist on the steering wheel. The car horn blares and echoes throughout the tunnel.

“You fucking bitch.” The wind is knocked out of you as one of the men from the other car grabs you, throwing you to the ground. He kicks you in the stomach, his heavy body over yours as he swings his knife above his head.

Shit, is this how you die?

You guess this is how he dies, watching as a zombie latches onto his back.

You kick him hard so he falls backward, helping out the undead man. Rolling underneath the car, you wait.

The howls of the men are echoing now. You breath is raspy, your stomach hurts, your ribs hurt, your head definitely hurts, but you’re hidden and you’re safe for now.

---

Namjoon never killed a man before. Technically he still hasn’t, the knife wound he left in the advancing man’s shoulder wasn’t life threatening, more of a warning than anything, and the shove afterwards was in self defense. He had shoved him in the path of an ambling zombie, yes, but could that really make Namjoon responsible for his death? It would be a question he would later agonize about, added to the list of countless other situations that were not really his fault but Namjoon blamed himself for nonetheless. Now, he kept moving, kept fighting, and he’d worry about the moral implications of throwing wounded men into the path of monsters later.

As the eldest member of BTS, Seokjin felt almost a paternal affection for the youngest member. It was hard not to, when he watched Jungkook grow up right in front of him, from a shy silly teenager with stars in his eyes, ambitions greater than Seokjin, a young adult, could ever imagine for himself, to the grown confident adult man Jungkook had become now. Even if Jungkook was now stronger than Seokjin, reached his height and could piggyback him with ease, the moment Seokjin saw him fighting for his life all he could see was the small shy doe-eyed child that grew up in front of his eyes. Seokjin grabbed the splintered bat and aimed it for Jungkook’s attackers’ skulls, he didn’t care if they were living or dead.

Yoongi had the strongest preservation instinct of all the members, it wasn’t a question of if he would fight for his life by any means necessary, it was only when. He had been able to avoid it up until now, but it was an inescapable decision, and a decision he didn’t hesitate to make when he saw a man lunging at his leader and dear friend from behind. When the man turned his attention on Yoongi instead, Yoongi aimed to kill.

Hoseok hated zombies. He hated the blood, the carnage, and the horrors of the new world order. Images of rotted corpses, screaming friends dying in front of him, weeping over lost ones, haunted his dreams. He relived nightmares every time he slept, blood squirting from bodies, running down pale green mouths, cut-off limbs, festering flesh, blood-thirsty eyes. He hated zombies, but he found he hated even more, anyone who would threaten his brothers.

Jimin knew how to fight, how to defend himself and his friends. He couldn’t stand the thought of losing anyone, he would do anything to keep his friends safe. He quietly resigned himself to the idea that he would have to kill for them, and then moved on instinct. Jimin did what he had to do to keep himself and his friends safe. He ignored the fresh blood on his hands, he ignored the screams of men he didn’t know, he ignored the pain in his heart and lurch in his stomach at having to do so many horrific things, and he only thought of the moment when he could walk away from this with the rest of his best friends as one.

Taehyung was not a fighter, he could argue until he was blue in the face, but he never liked being physical. He trained with his members, he ran drills half-heartedly, never expecting he’d ever have to use his self defense skills on anyone other than an ambling undead. It’s not that he didn’t expect that would change the closer they traveled to the city, he didn’t know what he expected actually, but he didn’t expect the mad scramble of men with anger in their eyes and erratic attacks aimed for his body. People weren’t supposed to treat other people like this!

Jungkook was athletic, he liked releasing his energy by punching and kicking and fighting. But did he ever want to actually maim anyone? Never. But after everything, after the countless nights on edge, the many losses he endured, the way his group dwindled and dwindled until it was only his brothers left, he would have done anything to protect them. He knew he had the skills, he knew how to, but becoming a killer? It happened before he could question himself. He heard Taehyung yell and he used his skills to defend his brother. And then he heard Hoseok scream and he ran to his side as well. He landed punch after punch without holding back, and even though for nights he would quietly cry as his knuckles healed, he knew he would do it all over again.

It was supposed to be a fun vacation to Korea for Dev, it was only supposed to be for a couple of weeks! He wanted to eat and shop and club, just two weeks! Dev was supposed to go straight to Itaewon after getting off the plane in Seoul, he wanted to get hammered and dance all night and maybe even find a hot Korean girl to take back to his hotel, this vacation was supposed to be a dream fulfilled, not a walking nightmare! He signed up for days shopping in Gangnam and norebang and Korean BBQ, not fighting for his life the moment he stepped foot on Korean soil. He didn’t sign up for this! Why should he have to participate?! Dev never wanted to leave the safety of the farm, all because that girl y/n couldn’t just…take one for the team! This was an impossible situation to be in, he didn’t want to die! The moment he saw the locals running angrily towards the group Dev ran back into the car, locked the doors and hid on the floor, hands tightly pressed over his ears to muffle out the screaming.

You steadied your breathing and decided now was the time to run. The men were distracted enough by the onslaught of newly formed zombies, their numbers thinned enough. So you rolled your body out from beneath the car. You could have run towards the closest exit, the small half circle of the day’s new light was shining in the darkness like a small pot of gold at the end of a long stretch of misery, but you couldn’t will yourself to run from your friends. Yes, the idol group had become your friends, possibly the only friends you had left in this world. The only option you had, the only road you were willing to take, was straight into the darkness back towards them. So you faced back into the darkness and cautiously ran your fingers along the tunnel wall. This time, you hoped if you were to run into anything, it was a dead man rather than a living one.

Before you could run, however, you heard a noise.

The noise was so unlike man or monster it made you pause, made you turn back to that pot of gold, to see the jackpot suddenly appearing before you. As soon as you turned and saw the creature that made the noise you heard, you thought, of course, of course that’s what it was.

You stood in front of the creature as it whinnied and neighed and looked up incredulously, but before you could acknowledge the sight before you, your vision went black...

---

Oh god, your head is pounding. You lift your head up from the soft pillow placed underneath, and nice silk sheets underneath you. You roll across the ground like a worm, realizing your stiff limbs are not cooperating how you want them to because you have your hands tied behind your back, legs tied at the ankle.

You see intricate wooden fixtures and colorful tapestry and pastel satin draped across your body.

Oh my god, did you time travel?! Have you become the main character in your own historical K-Drama?!

Wait wait wait wait. What the fuck happened?

You turned around and saw…a horse! Yes, an actual horse. You remembered his large brown eyes staring down at you, a sight you never expected. There were lots of horses! And horsemen, that’s right, they trotted from the light and right towards you, had you frozen in disbelief.

And then everything went dark and you can’t remember the rest. Where are you?!

You slowly and painstakingly scoot yourself to the exit, wiggling your body over pillows and blankets, wondering how you’re going to open the door once you reach for it, but your questions are silenced when the door slides open of its own accord. You turn over on your back, readying yourself to kick whoever enters. A man bends over you, befuddled by what you’re trying to do.

“You look good in it for a foreigner.”

You glare at him, staying defiantly quiet. The man before you wears a traditional hanbok, and you almost would have believed you hit your head and instead of dying time traveled straight into the Silla Dynasty…if he wasn’t eating from a bag of shrimp flavored potato chips.

He crouches down next to you, licking the crumbs off his fingers while you glare at him waiting for your answer. “I’m not supposed to be in here, but I had to see for myself, but you don’t look particularly threatening.” He talks to himself, assuming you don’t understand him, reaching a sticky finger to your chin, causing you to flinch away.

“I’m not supposed to touch you, but-” He reaches for your face again and you attempt to bite him. The man yelps, falling backwards. “It’s true!”

You wish your own hanbok wasn’t so long and full bodied, you feel like you’re drowning in fabric as you try to wiggle to the open exit. The man, who is much larger than you, looks actually scared of you, and it makes you want to laugh at how horrified his expression becomes. He quickly jumps up and slams the sliding door shut before you can even gain any sort of footing.

What is happening?! You survey your surroundings again, confused now more than ever, it looks like you fell into an exhibit of Ancient Korea. Maybe those horsemen were time travelers. They brought you and shrimp potato chips to this era, just a short pop off into the 21st Century and you happened to be in the worst place at the worst possible time. Your imagination is running wild now, there is no way...though just a couple years ago you wouldn’t have believed in the existence of zombies either, and the world proved you wrong!

Feeling alone now more than ever, you wait uncomfortably restrained, the feeling in your fingers and toes growing numb. It must be lunchtime, or even dinnertime by how hungry you’re feeling. They surely don’t intend to keep you here until you starve to death, right? You wonder whether you should start yelling for someone to come back or try to escape again, and then decide yelling your lungs out is definitely the more satisfying action at the moment.

You yell and yell and yell until another man appears, he is much older than the first yet he wears the same kind of clothes.

You frown at him, “Why are you playing dress up, old man?”

He looks momentarily surprised at your Korean. “We are on temple grounds, we respect the temple and its traditions.”

“Eh?”

“Our warriors found you, it was quite the surprise to find a woman in these parts, we thought it might have been a gift from God, but now…it seems we were given a curse from the Devil. You are an abomination.” He looks at you with disgust.

“Okay, just cause I’m not Korean-”

“Don’t play coy, girl. You and your friends will stand in front of The Lord of Sutasa tomorrow morning and we will see what he plans to do with you.”

“Lord? My f-friends?! Where are they?!” ‘Could he really be talking about Jimin and the others?!’ you think. Oh god, you hope he’s not referring to those men that found you.

“Don’t worry about that, now if you don’t stop your wailing we will gag you as well.” He says, eyes narrowing.

You guess escape is the way to go.

---

It must be nighttime, it must. There is a stabbing ache in your gut, the familiar pang of hunger after going without three meals. You haven’t made much headway in the escape department, your wrists feel raw by how much you’ve tried to pull your hands free from the tight rope bindings, and you’ve tired yourself out trying to become more flexible reaching for your restrained ankles. Your entire body aches now, bruised and sore. You’ve given up hope until the familiar guard comes back.

“I have water for you,” he says timidly. The other guards said to stay away from you, that you were diseased, but he heard your constant cries for help, and no one had tended to you or fed you, plus he was too curious for his own good.

This time your attitude is much more pleasing. You sit up and thank him, “Thank you so much, I’m sorry, Sir. We had gotten off to the wrong foot, as it were. Does that, um, saying not make sense in Korean?” You ask as you stare at his confused face.

“You speak Korean…so well!”

“Oh, yeah, that, ha, you see,” you reign in your words and try not to act too smart, “I get uhh nervous talking Korean. You’re just so..handsome. And I’m shy.” You look up at him softly, and he stares back mouth-open at your compliment.

“Sir, please, let me go, I’ve done nothing wrong!”

He looks away from your pleading eyes, “It’s not my place, I have to listen to the Lord-”

You groan, “Excuse me, Sir, um, can I ask, do you not find acting like this a little…odd? I mean we are still in the 21st Century, err right?”

He smiles wearily. “I can understand what you mean.” He studies your foreign features, “I assume you grew up far away from here, yeah?” You nod. “The industrial revolution happened in my grandparent’s time, even I remember how long it took for our town to become modernized. It’s not so strange... Once the electricity stopped, everyone was forced to adapt, and this place,” he laughs. “They found a way back to our traditional way of life that works. I’m thankful to serve my Lord-”

“I’m uhh very thirsty.” You nod towards the cup in his hand.

“Oh! Right! Here,” He tips the cup to your lips. It’s refreshing and cold in your dry mouth and makes you cough.

“Sorry, sorry!” You try to wipe your face on your shoulder, and instead he reaches out to wipe you off with his sleeve and this time you suppress your instinct to flinch.

You can do this, you might not be the greatest seductress, but you are a woman, and you know damn well by the way he looks at you he hasn’t been in the company of a woman in a good while. You meet his eyes, telling yourself to just look at him as if he were-

The singers' faces flash in your consciousness and you can’t help but look away ashamed. Fortunately the guard took your action as more shyness, only inflating his ego further.

“I don’t know why this has happened, I was only trying to escape these bad men, and all of a sudden I was attacked and-” your voice wavers in fake anguish.

The guard wipes away your tears softly. You even managed to fake cry, you're proud of yourself for that one. “I see…this will be fixed in the morning, just wait a bit more,” he soothes. Not good enough, you think.

“What kind of person would lock up an innocent woman?!”

“No one is innocent, not anymore. For you to have survived as long as you have, you must have made some regrettable choices.” He winces, thinking of his own sins before he was taken in by the people of this temple. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but this place had structure, gave him a job and a purpose, this life was something more than slowly starving and running from monsters every day. You aren’t sick or combative like he thought you would be, he’s sure they will judge you the same as him and let you stay-

“I can’t believe this has happened to me!” you cry into his shoulder, “I don’t know what they’ve told you, but I’m just a normal woman,” you look up at him through your lashes, your lip quivering. “Just a lonely scared woman,” you cry.

Okay, that might have been more truthful than you care to admit. You feel overwhelmed, tired and hungry and body still bruised and aching from everything you’ve been through. He moves his head closer to yours.

Up close, you can see he was a quite handsome man, with rugged features and a strong body making him an ideal fit for his position.

Yet he surprised you with how delicately he kissed your lips, mouth moving cautiously against your own, until months of going without the touch of a woman poured out between his lips, deepening the kiss. He moved himself over your body, but your tied legs prevented him from moving between your legs. “Untie them,” you mew into his ears, and any doubts he had vanished when you licked his skin, placing soft kisses across his cheek and jaw.

Once he untied your legs, he pressed himself closer to you, hands pulling up the tulle edges of your long hanbok.

You could have probably gotten him to untie your arms too, but you panicked, and instead you broke the kiss, breathing out a genuine apology before swinging your neck and knocking your forehead hard into his. You regretted that instantly, your body mirroring him by crumbling inward in pain.

“S-Sorry, sorry,” you grunt, dizzy from the impact while the guard lays momentarily stunned. You manage to wiggle yourself to your knees, groaning as you finally find a way to stand. And then you take off running. To where, you don’t know, you just sprint.

You run towards the closest exit, and see guards, and turn around, knocking into wooden walls clumsily. You run towards the next exit, where guards are standing as well, except this time you’re upon them before they notice you, and barrel into them the moment they hear screams from your chasers.

You manage to rather ungracefully make it down the temple stairs before falling down. It’s not your fault! Your hands were tied!

When a pair of hands yanks you to your feet you flail and kick until everything goes dark again. How many concussions can one human endure?

---

You wake up groaning, this time on hard dirt, painful sharp threads of hay pricking into your skin. Your ankles are re-tied together and you yell one long frustrated cry.

“Y/n?”

Was that…

“Hobi?”

“You’re here!”

“W-What are you doing here?!”

You look around at your surroundings and notice you’re in some kind of stable, turned into a kind of jail. You hear the adjacent stable cell knock on your wall. “Y/n?!”

“Taehyung, oh my god.” You cry out in relief.

“Were you bitten?”

“No!” You yell back.

“They said you were infected!” He yells back worriedly.

“Oh, they did? Well, I’m fine!” You struggle in the hay. “Are you tied too?”

“Yes, they tied our hands!” Another voice, farther away, speaks.

“Jimin?! Who else is here?”

“Me!”

Ugh, Dev, of course he’d be okay. Jungkook calls out to you as well. All except…

“Where's Namjoon? Jin? Yoongi?!”

“They are talking to their leader,” Taehyung assures you.

“What the hell is going on?!”

“They just showed up, out of nowhere like ghosts!” Hoseok yells, remembering the horsemen appearing out of the tunnels once the fighting had ceased.

At first, they thanked the members for stopping those men, as they were terrorizing the area and were in a long stale mate with the horsemen.

“They wanted to bring us back to this temple,” he pauses, looking around at his tiny stable cell, “but we explained to them where we were headed and then...Jin noticed you,” he emphasized, “one of the rider’s had you, you were unconscious, and well, they refused to let any of us go after that,” he groans.

You swallow hard. So it is your fault they were stuck here with you.

“There’s a whole community!” Taehyung yells, “They call themselves, ‘Hwarang!’”

Despite getting captured, Taehyung managed to garner a lot of information from his captor, an enamored fan. You learn the temple was sealed off after the outbreak. The locals and temple workers stayed inside and survived. They were too scared to leave the temple for many months, convincing themselves the reason for their safety was the temple itself. The modern world had failed them, but not this temple.

Obviously, a secluded temple with many gates would be a perfect hideaway from zombies. The idea that it was something more than just mere luck and location was a hopeful story that kept their spirits up, could you blame them for finding meaning when there really wasn’t any? The temple workers had been playing the parts their whole lives, now they really got to live like lords and knights.

Well, it was definitely an interesting coping mechanism, you thought.

“What are we going to do?!”

---

“What are we going to do?” Yoongi whispers to Joon, sipping the offered soju. “He doesn’t seem…all there.” He gestures to the old man in front of them, who listens to the quiet command of his guard.

“I know, let me think.” He still has the knives you gave him. He tries to come up with a plan that doesn’t involve them.

“Your...highness, can we talk about the woman-”

“Oh yes, her, the girl my men rescued! She’s fine, fine, we’ll deal with her. More importantly, tell me more about your performance at Gyeongbokgung Palace!” An old woman brings a round of refills, hands shaking, bowing to the Lord and Namjoon, Seokjin, and Yoongi. They bow back at her, but she won’t meet their eyes. Everything feels tense and awkward, and the members try their best to remain calm.

“First, your highness, we would like our friends to be released,” Seokjin speaks.

“Oh my, this is just a precaution, my men spoke about how combative your friends were,” he pauses, “You know we can’t have that on temple grounds, I would like to peacefully come to a compromise, yes? Now I know you have your hearts set on Seoul, but it is a fool’s journey. You’re much better off staying in our company, don’t you agree?”

Seokjin and Yoongi turn their heads to stare at their leader, seated between them, eyes closed in thought.

---

“I got it!”

“Got what?”

“I got out of the ropes.” Taehyung says triumphantly.

“How did you manage to do that?” You ask, lifting your head up from the hay.

The wooden door creaks, unlocking. “I found a sharp corner. Friction.” Taehyung stands in the doorway, a smirk planted on his face. “You look pretty.”

“You look like a prince,” you say, looking over his clothes. He looks cute and elegant in his new robes. “So, come rescue me,” you grunt. You wiggle around, turning over your stomach.

You feel Taehyung’s long fingers work to unravel your knotted ropes. Once free you roll your shoulders, your arms prickling with new blood flow. Taehyung helps by rubbing your arms up and down. “I’m so happy you’re alright,” you breathe out, swallowing down tears of relief. “Let’s untie the others.”

“Jimin!” You hug the idol tightly once you open his cell and he chuckles against you.

“Untie me so I can hug you back.”

“Oh! Sorry, we should hurry, I feel like a guard will come back any moment.” You yank on the bindings until he can pull his wrists out, hugging each other once Jimin is free.

“Don’t ever walk away from the group like that again,” he murmurs in your hair.

“I would have found you again,” you sigh, “They would have hurt you if I hadn’t left willingly.”

“Well, you gave us a fighting chance, I’ll give you that.”

You tilt your head in confusion, “What do you mean–oof.” You feel a hard presence behind you, arms wrapped tightly around both you and Jimin.

“They said you were bitten, I thought I would never see you again,” Jungkook grumbles behind you.

“Guess you’re stuck with me,” you smile, turning around to inspect the youngest. Jimin wore something similar to Taehyung, satiny robes that matched yours, while Jungkook wore what looked to be an uncomplete fighter’s outfit. What happened to your knuckles?” Jungkook quickly pulls his hand away from yours, you can’t help but notice the cuts and bruises across everyone’s faces and hands. “What happened-”

“Shit, we have to go now.” Hoseok calls out when he sees a guard pace closer to the stable.

“Wait!” You look over to the advancing guard and then down at your dress. “We can’t let him alert the others, uh does anyone know how to do a chokehold? I would try to do it, but-” you twirl in your oversized skirt.

Jimin sighs, “I’ll do it.” Jungkook agrees to help, and you agree to act as bait. It was five against one and it went as easy as one could hope for, though you did feel for the stranger once he was knocked out cold by the youngest, your dull headache came back throbbing in sympathy.

“So you think I will fit into those clothes?” You look around in question.

“But you look so nice,” Taehyung says.

“I do like it, not very practical for escaping however. Someone help me trade clothes with him.” You turn to see five wide-eyed men. You groan, “Please!”

“Shouldn’t one of us wear the knight’s clothes?”

“Okay,” you untie the jacket across your chest, “Well someone is giving me their clothes then.”

The group becomes flustered, turning their backs to you and working to remove the guard’s clothes. In the end everyone ends up swapping at least one shirt, a jacket, or pants, until you’re put into a semblance of an outfit that works on your female body, synching your belt tight around your waist. As cute as you felt in the pastel woman’s handbook, this fit is much more easier to move in.

“I’m jealous,” you cross your arms looking over at Taehyung, “The guard wears my dress better than me.”

Taehyung laughs, while Jimin dressed like a guard grabs the last of his things, a large sword, sheathing onto his hip instead. “Let’s go find the others!”

---

Namjoon Jin and Yoongi were having their own troubles. They listened horrified as the Lord animatedly spoke about all the ways he punished dissenters.

“I think we should have a celebration! Your group can sing, it would really be a great morale boost for my men.”

“What about y/n?”

“Oh the girl? She will have to be executed of course, she was infected, didn’t you know? She tried to bite one of my guards!”

“WHAT?” Jin yells.

“No, that’s not possible,” Yoongi is in disbelief.

“It most definitely has been confirmed-” he says annoyed.

“Your highness can I please talk to you in private?” Namjoon interjects. But a scream brings the attention of the group towards the west.

“Your highness, what is that noise?” Seokjin asks, and as if to answer, a guard runs up towards the group, yelling…

“ZOMBIES!”

---

Only moments before your small group stumbles upon a discovery.

“Guys, what the hell is that?” Dev whispers. The smaller dwelling away from the largest temple was locked, wooden spears positioned over the doors. However, the familiar low growling was unmistakable.

“I think we know exactly what that is,” you swallow.

“Why the hell do they have zombies locked inside?!” Jungkook asks, horrified.

“I don’t want to find out!” you hiss.

“Well,” Hoseok swallows, “This is as good of a distraction as any.”

This is a bad idea.

---

“Look what I found!” Now that the zombies were out roaming, you and the group were inside the newly cleared building waiting. Jimin walks towards you with a handful of swords and spears.

“Aren’t those props?”

“Not these ones.”

“You know hwando, right?” you ask, grabbing a spear.

Jimin smiles, nodding. “Never thought I’d have to use it like this.”

“So what’s the plan?” Taehyung asks, reaching for a sword.

You look at Hoseok, Hoseok looks at you. So you look at Jungkook, and Jungkook looks at you. “Why is everyone staring at me?! Do I look like Joon?!”

After a long stretch of silence you sigh. “You said Namjoon, Jin and Yoongi were with the Lord, right? Well let’s go pay him a visit.”

---

It was night time, it was dark, the only lights around were the stars in the sky and the lighted lanterns scattered around the temple grounds. So if you kept your head down and ran in between the others, no one could really tell who you were.

“You!”

“Oh!” You stare back at the guard you had first met. Jimin runs in front of you before the guard can hit you with his sword, blocking his swing impressively.

Another guard appears with two zombies running after him, halting the fight. You all scatter. Running towards the closest building, you fall inside before zombies can make you their dinner.

Unfortunately, you were alone with none other than-

Fuck it's the guard.

“Listen, I did not want to hit you but you gave me no other choice! Really, you should have expected it.”

“You tricked me!”

You run back to the exit, “Well to be fair you kissed me.”

“YOU KISSED HIM?” Jimin yells, landing a kick to the guard’s stomach as he enters inside.

“Well, I-” the guard lets go of his sword, and punches Jimin instead. “Stop fighting!” A zombie enters after Jimin, heading towards your group. You spear him before he gets any closer. “Stop fighting and help me!”

---

“Did I mention how sorry I was?” you ask, saving the guard from another zombie. He huffs, but is grateful you saved him. “I am y/n by the way.”

“Park Wooyoung.”

“I’m sorry Park Wooyoung.” You extend your hand to help him up. “It was a g-good kiss-” Jimin stumbles into you, slicing another zombie. “Not the best, obviously,” you stutter, “I mean, you know what I mean-” Now that the last zombie in your area was taken down, Jimin grabs your hand, pulling you through the exit before you can finish your thought.

“I let him kiss me so he would untie me, that sounds bad, I did not mean to kiss him. I meant to escape, that is. Um, Jimin?” Why do you feel the need to defend yourself? Jimin pulls you along silently, until a wave of guards hit you from the side. Literally, barreling into you and Jimin as they try to escape a hoard of new zombies.

You are hit in a particularly sensitive spot on your ribs, still bruised from the car crash, and you fall to the ground, your grasp on Jimin gone. The pain is excruciating now and you crawl as best as you can through the chaos, until you reach a fence, using the wires to pull yourself to your feet. Okay, new plan, follow the fence.

Your crawl turns into a brisk walk and then turns into a quick jog away from the chaos. The situation is quickly getting out of hand, a zombie guard runs towards you and you have nothing to defend yourself with!

Luckily, his head is sliced off before he reaches you.

“Yoongi!”

“Y/n?” Two hands find your cheeks, holding your face tight as Yoongi looks at you in disbelief.

“Finally, I found you.” you smile, relieved. “I-”

Yoongi pulls your forward, hands still cupping your face, kissing you suddenly.

You stand stunned, looking at the soft skin of Yoongi's eyelids, the strands of his messy hair framing his face, until the softness of his lips and his warm calming presence allows you to close your eyes too. You reach behind to hold onto the fence to steady your buckling legs as Yoongi leans into you. His kiss ends too soon and has you following his lips, wishing for more.

“I thought you had died,” he whispers.

“I’m surprised I’m not,” you laugh, wincing as the pain in your ribs flairs up again, “Just a little beaten up.” Smiling as Yoongi wraps his arms around you to steady you. Your head bump together and you can’t help but look down at his lips, turning your head as his nose grazes your cheek, your lips almost connecting again.

“Where is Joon and Jin?” you ask, still so close to him you can feel his hot breath when he exhales, your noses touching, the space between your bodies practically non-existent.

“We lost each other.” He stares into your eyes and you stare back, you can’t look away, his dark brown eyes are so rich in color, matching his intense gaze. “I think I know where they went though. Can you walk?”

You nod, still unwilling to let go, feeling lost in the softness of his skin against yours. You realize just how tightly you are gripping the fence, relaxing your strained fingers. He shifts his body and you finally close your eyes, leaning your forehead against his. It's not the time to be doing this, whatever it is you’re doing with Yoongi. So stop it, y/n! You have to, even if all you want to do is kiss him again.

You straighten your body. “‘More trouble than she’s worth,’ huh?” You hit his shoulder playfully, glaring at him.

“I was trying to get him to let you go,” he says.

“It’s okay, you’re probably right,” you smile half-heartedly.

“You know I didn’t mean it. You are definitely worth all the trouble.”

You snort. “Well he’s dead now, so I guess he couldn’t handle me after all,” you frown.

“I would have killed him if he wasn’t,” Yoongi says.

You roll your eyes, yeah right.

Yoongi fills you in on his experience with The Lord of Sutasa.

“See, that’s why term limits need to exist, even in a world overrun with zombies.”

“Well, I think it is safe to say his little kingdom has fallen.”

“Hmmm-wait, is that...?” You see your beat up car next to the horse stables.

“Where do you think the keys are?”

“You go get them,” you point to Taehyung and Jungkook, sword fighting....each other. “I’ll go search for keys.”

---

“Jimin, don’t kill him!” You yell, finding Jimin fighting with Wooyoung again.

“I should have known it was you guys, you destroyed this place! My home!” he yells, bringing his sword down with momentum, a strong hit that has Jimin stumbling backward.

“Maybe you shouldn’t keep a pen full of zombies inside your home!” Jimin yells back, sword clanging against the guard’s.

“LIAR!”

Jeez. “Stop fighting! Wooyoung, please!” you follow the men around, pleading, “I have an idea, I can help you.”

“Woman, your ideas do nothing but bring me misery!”

“If you don’t like this idea you can kill me.”

“You touch her and I will kill you.”

Wooyoung knocks his sword against Jimin's, stopping for now. “This better be good.”

This idea was in fact, a good one.

---

“Joon?!” You run into each other, or well, Namjoon crashes into you, knocking the wind out of you in the process.

At least he didn’t hit your head.

“Y/n! Shit!” Namjoon reaches for the temple wall to steady you both, accidentally hitting your forehead in the process.

At least you didn’t pass out.

“Ow,” you wince, cradling your head, slipping on dirt, falling into Namjoon, who, for a former idol, has terrible spatial awareness, falling backwards as you fall forwards.

“Ahhh!”

“Owww.”

Maybe passing out would be less painful, you think. trying not to throw up as you lie across Namjoon's body.

“A-Are you okay?!”

“No! W-Where is Jin?” You do not move, as Joon is pretty comfortable to lie on and it's really the least he could do after he swept you off your feet god-of-destruction-style.

“We were separated.” He says, arms holding you to him before pulling you up. “You’re bleeding, did I do that?!”

The wound in your shoulder had opened up. “Oh, I was stabbed. Damn it feels like forever ago now,” you laugh, wincing again when your ribs move.

“You were stabbed by who?!”

“Not ‘stab’ like-” you make a fist and mimicking a stabbing motion, “More like-” instead of moving your arm you move your wrist up and down, “-that.” You craddle your ribs, sighing.

“You’re really hurt,” Namjoon says panicking.

You nod, “You too,” you reach for the bruise across his cheek. “What happened?” Even if the old fashioned robes covered their bodies, you could tell the group was just as beat up as you.

Namjoon sighs, “You are hurt worse,” he says, avoiding your question. “Y/n, you can’t put yourself in danger like that. We stick together, remember?”

“Trust me, I’m regretting it,” you tease. “We have to find Jin, we have to stop these zombies, because well, technically it was our fault.”

“What?!”

“I mean it was also their fault for having a room full of zombies. Who does that?”

“A mad old monarch,” Namjoon grunts.

“About that. We also have to stop...the Lord of Sutasa.” you gulp.

“Well,” Namjoon hesitates, pulling out your knives and handing one back to you, “You can cross that one off the list.”

Namjoon doesn’t explain how he knows the Lord is dead, just that he is definitely dead and undead and dead dead.

---

“Jin!” You kick your legs, trying to jump off Namjoon’s back. Jin runs towards you with Hoseok and Dev. You hug him close ignoring the pain in your side. “Did they fill you in on the plan?”

“I am filled in on everything. I wish I could have seen you in a hanbok.”

“Well technically this is a hanbok,” you laugh, and then double over in pain. “I’m okay.”

“You’re not okay.”

“I’m not a zombie.” You grumble, eyesight tunneling.

“Y/n rest,” Jin says softly, holding on to you.

---

You wake up softly groaning.

“W-Was it all a dream?” you question, looking around at the familiar looking room, full of soft pillows and blankets. You look down at the dress you thought you would never see again.

But this time you were not tied up, except for the tight bandages you felt tied around your torso and shoulder.

You look at the closed door and wonder if it was locked. Hesitantly you call out the name, “Wooyoung?”

You sit up, “Wooyoung!”

Slowly, the door to your room opens up and in walks the guard, but this time Wooyoung is no longer dressed in his familiar guard uniform.

“For some reason I thought you would look more, I don’t know, Lordly.”

Wooyoung smiles, shaking his head. “I like being a Hwarang, but I guess you could say I am sort of a leader now,” he smirks. “I want to protect this place and people the right way. No ‘Lords,’ we will all work together.”

“You’ll make a great leader,” you smile. “Where are my um friends?”

“I can bring them in.” He hesitates, “Be warned, they might be mad at you.”

“What?! Why! Didn’t the plan go well?”

“Oh that’s not why, they were arguing for days who you were going to call for first when you finally woke up. Thank you, by the way, being chosen over BTS really made me feel like a Lord!” he laughs.

“Oh.”

“This is for you, honorary flowering knight.” He hands you a Hwarang uniform.

---

Everyone seemed more relaxed, which was a feat considering the zombie attack and coup that occured. The temples were open, knights were playing basketball with a makeshift hoop and an old basketball, a ‘forbidden’ item no longer outlawed.

You wore your hanbok until you had to leave, mainly because Jin wouldn't stop complimenting you, and then changed into your gift. The boys wore a mixture of modern and traditional clothing; Taehyung, Jin, Jimin, and Jungkook wearing a similar Hwarang uniform to yours.

You said your goodbyes, back on the road again! Now, with two horses, along with your car. Poor car, it took a beating as well, back windows broken from dragging Dev out, huge indents in the frame from the fighting, but the trunk still had your supplies tucked safely underneath the largest pile of stuffed alpacas you have ever seen.

First stop, a grim reminder of everything that's happened.

You stand at the wreckage, speechless. Dev pulls his pack from underneath a corpse. There were so many. It reminded you of the airport. You try not to cry.

“Did you find your pack?”

You shake your head.

“Are you okay?”

You can't look away from the scene in front of you. You piece together the story of what happened. “This was my fault, wasn’t it?”

“No,” Namjoon says. “This is what happens when men forget their humanity. They chose to act like monsters,” he softly tilts your head away from the gruesome sight. “We fought them, just like we would have any other monster.” You pull his hand away from your chin, feeling the healing cuts across his knuckles. You nod in agreement, because you had to, because you needed to let him know you believed his words.

“They will find your pack, don’t worry.” You wanted to tell him that was the farthest thing from your mind right now, but you stayed silent and stoic, as he was doing for you.

---

Well your bike was run over. You won’t cry over a bike, you won’t.

“Y/n?” Taehyung extends his arm out to you, offering a hand up on his horse.

“You know, I had a nintendo switch in my suitcase. I played with it until it died. I looked for battery chargers, and eventually those ran out of power as well.”

“Yeah?” you say, quietly listening to his story. You lean back against him, getting accustomed to the sway of the horse.

“Then you know what happened?”

“What?”

“I cried. It felt like part of my life was gone, I guess it kind of was, yeah?” he looks down at you.

“Yeah,” you sigh. You listen to the horse hooves clacking on pavement, turning your head to his chest, closing your eyes.

“I won’t say who, but when his laptop died, he cried so much, we were all worried he was going to become dehydrated.” He continues.

“Was it Yoongi?” You open one eye.

Taehyung gives you a sad smile, “Can't say.”

Click clack, you sing a tune to match the rhythm in your head.

“…It’s okay to cry.”

You sigh, gather up your tears and swallow, shaking your head. “I’ve cried enough over the past.”

Taehyung flicks the reigns, using his foot to softly increase the horses speed.

“I have to believe, there will be a day where we don’t cry over these memories, and laugh instead, at how we managed to make it through a zombie apocalypse and back to our families.”

“Yes,” you swallow, looking forward again.

“Who knows maybe I will see my family one day too,” you smile. “My friends. Oh my god, imagine if I told them I spent the zombie apocalypse with BTS. No one will ever believe me,” you giggle.

You liked pretending, imagining a hopeful future with Taehyung. He might just be acting to make you feel better, but he acted so optimistic and assured. You wanted a happy ending, no matter how unbelievable it sounded. ‘We will find a way.’

---

“The tank is low!” Jin yells out the window.

There is nothing but miles of road and no exits in sight.

‘We will find a way.’

---

Next chapter, we are headed into Seoul, and the tension goes through the roof! Mainly the sexual tension O.O

Go vote in the poll to choose the member you want to save!

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bubblegumarts · 1 year

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Spider Webs: Intro 🍂

(Characters aren’t real and it’s just a little comic about an apocalypse scenario cause I love angst!)

I hope you can fall in love with all the characters and their stories (it’s Yoonkook focused ... kind of but they all love each other!)

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sk8erboi-bts · 2 years

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September Namgi fic recs because I missed last month 😬😭🙃

Been deep in a funk lately so I missed last month, sorry!! But anyway, Namgi fics are 🔥💖

(these are all complete)

👍 Yes to Smut

tear you apart by nutting

Yoongi is in a metal band. Namjoon is obsessed.

Smitten (Bitten) by Kumatokkii

Sex dice, confused Namjoon, adorable Yoongi

objects in mirror are closer than they appear by Bazooka

Namjoon is possessed by Yoongi. Literally. Fun times with mirrors

🚫 No to Smut

Nothing Hurts Like Your Mouth by Iz-o1 (protowrite)

pre-debut Namjoon asks Yoon to teach him how to kiss 😽

Frozen Pines by Pammie

After the world ends, Yoongi decides to share his bunker with a wanderer.

The Woods are Just Trees by AttillaTheHun

After Namjoon accidentally confesses to Yoongi, he runs away into the woods

#Namgi fic recs #bts fic recs #yoongi #namjoon #bangtan fics #enemies to lovers #college au bts #apocalypse au #cute yoongi #rock band au #possession au

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moonchild1 · 1 year

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min yoongi fic rec list (Ⅴ)

hi guys it's been a minute since i posted it's been hectic i recently got a promotion so that's been taking up my time but here's another list of my favourite yoongi fics honestly reading them was so much fun and made me feel happy so i hope you enjoy them as much as i did. remember to please show lots of love and support to these incredible authors and creators and their blogs, don't forget to give them a follow , leave a heart, reblog or leave a kind message i know they will appreciate hearing from you, these fics contain smut so no minors interact feel free to send and share any fics you are currently into and would like to share with me i would love hearing from you guys

a- angst s- smut f- fluff

series

love lockdown by @personasintro f s a (enemies to lovers zombie apocalypse)

belong by @ahundredtimesover f s a (exes au basketball yoongi summer love au)

in the margins by @bonvoyagenoona f s a (enemies to friends to lovers slow burn)

look down on me like that by @here2bbtstrash s a (enemies/coworkers to lovers slow burn)

andante cantabile by @kkulfm-2 f s (regency au unrequited love slow enemies to lovers pianist yoongi)

match made in hell by @ughcore f s a (arranged marriage doctor au rivals to lovers)

only yesterday by @borathae f s a (strangers to lovers)

dating advice by @taleasnewastime f s a (strangers to lovers)

the deal by @untaemedqueen f s a (strangers to lovers gang/cartel au)

matilda by @babystrcandy f s a (brother's best friend unrequited love)

down the hall by @jjungkookislife s a (brother's best friend)

ink nemesis by @scriptaed f a (fake dating au)

unexpected lovers by @jjkeverlast f s a (fake dating artist yoongi)

love is a dog from hell by yourlocalhoney (ao3) f s a (love triangle friends with benefits) ft.Jungkook

petals by @yoonia f (parents au)

pink bird houses by @54daysormore f a (single dad au)

everytime by @deathbyyoongx f s a (fuckboy exes au)

desolate by @angelicyoongie f s a (hybrid au)

one-shot

first-date bait by @jimlingss f (strangers to lovers)

↬first-date bait drabble @/jimlingss s (strangers to lovers)

wallflowers by @bonvoyagenoona s (strangers to lovers)

shirt by @bonvoyagenoona s a (one night stand idol au)

sugar by @zehakoo f s (ceo au strangers to lovers neighbours)

radio sweethearts by @helenazbmrskai s (brother's best friend college au slow burn)

tongue like candy by @jjungkookislife s a (brother's best friend age gap)

auburn skies by @persphonesorchid f s a (brother's best friend)

black and white by @akinnie75 f a (slow burn)

always & forever by @sugakookitty f s (established relationship wedding au)

hard liquor by @chateautae s (boss x employee age gap)

sweetener by @taegularities f s (enemies to lovers fwb au fuckboy)

soft spot by @cultleaderyoongi f (first date)

↬sweet spot by @/cultleaderyoongi f s (established relationship)

sticks & stones by @xpeachesncream f s a (friends to lovers ex friends with benefits pinning au)

fuck being friends by @strawberrynamjoon f a (friends to lovers college au)

the seventh muse by @wwilloww f s (friends to lovers)

tell me what you want by @/wwilloww f s (friends to lovers)

yoongi’s lullaby by @jiminrings f a (unrequited love friends to lovers soulmate au)

illicit favors by @yoongiofmine f s a (friends to lovers)

snow blanket by @yoonieper f s (friends to lovers)

a wager of lords & love @hisunshiine s (regency au arranged marriage)

an empty home by @7deadlysinsfics s a (arranged marriage) ft. Taehyung

the nanny diaries by @btsgotjams27 f (single mom roommate au)

the good part by @introlxv s (roommate au)

handyman by @borathae s a (rebound au roommate au)

peaches in bed by @/borathae s (domestic au husband au)

don't hold hands by @whatifyoulivelikethat s ( friends with benefits roommate au)

by the time i've figured out what it's worth by @ugh-yoongi f s a (marriage au)

swing life away by @aphrodijin f s a (marriage au)

the little things by @kth1 f s (boyfriend au)

fxck a fxckboy! by @yoongifis s (fuckboy)

cupid's curse by @ressjeon s a (first love au)

dawned in by @aquagustd f s (dilf yoongi)

bad things by @yoonia s a (escort au pining)

close call by @xjoonchildx (mafia au)

↬looking for other myg fics or the other bts members check out my library

6K notes · View notes

lokisasylum · 2 years

Text

WIP Wednesday!

Yoongi was taking awfully long compared to previous times that Jimin was starting to consider just going after him, but knows that one of them needs to play Sentinel while the other goes in to get whatever they need.

‘It’ll start to get dark soon.’ He notices by the way the sun is barely visible on top of the building.

They were pretty far away from their hideout and will need to move quickly back once they’re done.

“Tch, this hyung really.” Jimin shakes his head, before resuming to pace one more time. “All for those fucking paper cups.”

“Gu-g…haa…”

Suddenly a strange sound carried by the wind makes it to his ears and has his blood running cold.

At first all Jimin can do is stay very still and strain his hearing to try pick it out again, though his mind is racing faster than his pulse and being a former Health Professional he knows that’s not healthy at all and he really should try to calm himself before his blood pressure increases as well. But right now he needs to think and act quickly if this were a sign of danger.

“Uhghhh…arg…”

Pain.

Groans of agony… someone was hurt and in great pain.

Or maybe it’s a zombie; his mind had dared to joke at a time like this and momentarily Jimin curses himself for ever finding those stupid movies “entertaining” now that he might be stuck with a similar scenario alone.

Fragment from “Ashes to Eden”, a short Yoonmin apocalypse!au I’ve been working on.

#wip wednesday #wips #wip fic #yoonmin #yoonmin fic #yoonmin au #apocalypse au #jimin #yoongi #bts au

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jeonqkooks · 7 months

Text

our beloved summer | jjk (07)

You made a vow to hate Jeon Jungkook ever since he packed up and left you without a single explanation, but when he shows up at your door after years of radio silence, it turns out that maybe your resolve isn’t as strong as you thought.

pairing: producer!jungkook x songwriter!reader genre/warnings: exes au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, swearing, mentions of oc's mother because we know girlie is hella traumatized, mentions of drinking, mentions of an almost physical fight, abandonment issues, jk forgets to practice safe driving for 2 seconds, and uhmmm kissing 🤫, anddd that cliffhanger? 👀 rating: 18+ (minors dni) word count: 10.8k note (1): this is the longest it has taken me to update obs and i do feel pretty guilty about that. but it's finally here now and this is one of the chapters that i'm the most nervous about posting. massive thanks to @daechwitatamic and @wintaerbaer for beta-ing this for me or else i would've screamed cried thrown up and scrapped the whole thing, and to @jeonwiixard for being a wonderful cheerleader as i was writing this, and to everyone in my beloved obs discord server for always being so sweet and kind and putting a smile on my smile every day since the server was created. also to my sunshine ☀︎ for introducing me to the song mentioned below bc HELLO is it not just one of the most obs coded songs ever. love you all my babies <3

series masterpost / playlist ; moodboards ; taglist join our OBS discord server ✨

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

Somewhere in the multiverse There's a me and you that works We never fuck it up We're out there still in love Somewhere in the multiverse Maybe that's enough

multiverse - Maya Manuele ft. PEMRBOKE

Sometimes, whenever you look up at the moon at night, you wonder if Jungkook is doing the same thing.

Even when you fall out of love with someone, it still hurts. It hurts because you once loved them so much it felt like the sky would collapse if you couldn’t be with them. It hurts because the love wasn’t taken from you, but rather it started slipping away on its own, more and more each day until you realize you’re holding onto nothing when there once was everything.

You can’t say that you’re too familiar with that kind of hurt though. You’ve never fallen out of love before.

You don’t think Jungkook is too familiar with it either, at least not when he left you.

You wonder if he thinks about you from time to time and gets sad. You think he does, because you know that he loved you. Something ended for him too. The memories that you shared were his memories too.

You hope that it’s painful for him whenever thoughts of you cross his mind, because that would mean that he cares. That a part of him still cares.

And if he still cares, then he might come back.

Despite the front that you try to parade around, there is a part of you that will always leave your heart vacant for him, regardless of whether or not he would return. It’s a scary thought, one that you would rather avoid at all costs, one that says there will be no one that you love more than you loved Jungkook. Maybe there can’t be another person that you will love at all.

You can come back quietly, like the wind slipping through the crack I leave in the window at night; or you can announce your return resoundingly like a sudden downpour quenching the summer heat. I don’t care. I kept your side of the bed empty and warm, waiting for you to come back. Hoping that you would come home.

[08:47] Yoongi: sure you don’t want me to drive you there? [08:48] Yoongi: i can pick you up in 30 [08:52] You: positive 🤧 i told you i already booked the train. it’s only 4 hours away [08:53] You: i’ll survive, yoongs [08:55] Yoongi: did you not watch Train To Busan? [08:56] You: ? [08:57] Yoongi: what if there’s a zombie apocalypse [09:00] You: yoongi if there’s a zombie apocalypse, how is your CONVERTIBLE supposed to keep me safe [09:01] Yoongi: i’ll put the roof up [09:02] You: stop talking [09:02] You: please stop talking. [09:03] Yoongi: 😡😡😡 [09:03] You: 😇 [09:03] You: gotta get dressed now though. i’ll see u when i get back? :) [09:05] Yoongi: fine [09:06] Yoongi: safe travels. text me when you get there :)

You plop onto your bed with a sigh, glancing at the bag that’s already packed and sitting near your wardrobe, lonely. You stay like that for a while, contemplating whether or not you should bail at the very last minute.

It was not on your bingo card that you’d be here, agonizing over your ex-boyfriend’s brother’s wedding. Nope. Absolutely no one saw it coming.

For fuck’s sake, why would they invite you to a wedding? A celebration of love? It feels like you’re being forced onto a prank show, just waiting for someone to jump out and scream in your face.

You learned that the wedding was for close friends and family only, so it would be a relatively small event, which makes it even more confusing why you were also asked to join. Maybe the world is changing too rapidly and you’re just a little old-fashioned for it, but you really don’t understand why your ex-boyfriend’s family would want you there.

Taehyung and Jimin were invited too; they’re Jungkook’s best friends after all. They’re practically an extension of the family, Jungkook’s brothers by choice. But Taehyung doesn’t come back from his work trip until the day of the wedding, and Jimin… Well, he just doesn’t want to go to a Busan wedding in the middle of winter.

So why are you even going?

You could’ve declined. Said you couldn’t attend because the invitation came in so late. Made up a work trip or a family emergency. There’s a plethora of excuses you could’ve used.

Or you could’ve simply said no. That would’ve been perfectly fine too. No one would even need to ask why.

But maybe it was because his mother had customized the invite with her own handwriting in the back. You would’ve missed it if you hadn’t spent hours meticulously studying the card like someone was going to quiz you. It wasn’t anything special - just We hope to see you there - but you think you’d feel really bad to decline after she’d made the extra effort to ask you to come.

When you told Yoongi that you would be attending Jungkook’s brother’s wedding, he didn’t seem upset. Still cool as a cucumber. Although if he was bothered by the announcement, you don’t think he would’ve let it show. It did take him a minute to take it in, but then he just pecked your cheek and asked if you could bring a plus-one. You both knew that you wouldn’t even if that was an option.

Pushing your body off the bed, you drag yourself to the bathroom to splash some water on your face. Then sunscreen. Then change into the clothes you’d already picked out last night. Your train doesn’t leave for another hour and fifteen minutes, but you want to be there at least twenty minutes early just in case. This is one of your only good habits.

You rub your eyes when you finally haul yourself outside, thinking you must still be dreaming because what is Jungkook’s car doing here?

You blink a few times, expecting the vehicle to disappear in a puff of white smoke.

Spoiler alert: It doesn’t.

The car is in front of you, but the man is nowhere to be found.

You stand there dumbfoundedly, contemplating whether you should wait it out for a little bit to see if he’s actually here. He comes running up to you a couple minutes later, holding two paper cups in his hands, one of them a chai latte. A memory you’d buried long ago comes rushing to the surface. It’s too early for you to be feeling.

“Hi,” he says, his warm breath coming out in a huff of smoke in the crisp morning air.

“Hi?” you mutter dumbly when he trades the bag in your hand for the drink. There’s a moment where you’re genuinely baffled, wondering if this is a memory reel playing right before your eyes. This is your Jungkook, wearing that same old smile whenever he used to come bounding up your dorm building so you could walk to the library together, where he would hang out with you during your shift if he didn’t have classes. “What are you doing here?”

You don’t remember telling him what time your train was, so he’d probably badgered it out of Taehyung or Jimin somehow.

“I thought I could drive us there,” he says. “I texted you about it.”

Well, that explains it. You don’t bother with his dozens of messages anymore. “Oh, uhm, I already booked the train.”

This doesn’t seem to faze him at all. “Free cancellation up to 15 minutes before departure.” Jungkook grins, clearly eager despite your obvious reluctance. It’s too early for this, whatever the hell this is.

When you told him that you had RSVP’d yes to the invitation, he was surprised that you even knew about the wedding. He even seemed nervous that day.

“What if I’d already left?” you ask.

He blinks, then stammers like a confused child. It’s cute, and you have to mentally slap yourself over the head for even thinking that.

“Then I’d go after you.”

How? you scoff internally. Unrealistic.

Regardless, not even an hour ago, you were declining Yoongi’s offer to drive you there. Now, you’re standing here, in front of your ex-boyfriend, contemplating whether or not you should go with him.

“Let’s go,” he says after a minute. “We don’t wanna be stuck in traffic.”

“I haven’t said yes.” Yet. “It’s a 4-hour drive.”

You don’t have to clarify what you mean. He understands it.

You both just stare at each other for a moment, the tension suddenly thickening with every passing second. Four hours on the road. Four hours alone in a car with Jungkook. That’s about two hundred minutes more than you think you can handle.

It’s like he can see right through you. “Don’t think about it,” he says, voice dropping lower. “It’s just a weekend. Everything will still be here for you to think about when we get back.”

In your head, it translates to: All of our shit will still be here when we get back. You can keep being mad at me then.

You hope that’s not true. You hope that when you get back, the things that keep you up at night will simply cease to exist. That in the two days you’ll be gone, a genie will materialize and solve all your problems for you.

Either way, it’s probably for the best that you aren’t mean to him this weekend. You’re stuck with him for the next 48 hours or so; it’ll only stress you out even more if you channel all of your energy into tormenting him. Besides, you’re already the ex girlfriend who has no place alongside his family. You don’t want to be the dark cloud raining on everyone’s parade too.

Maybe you’d already made up your mind when you let him take the bag from you.

For the first half of the drive, you were unconscious.

It’s a useless superpower that you have, the ability to fall asleep anywhere - literally anywhere, including in the passenger seat of your ex-boyfriend’s car while he escorts you to his hometown. Melatonin gummies manufacturers hate you.

You could’ve slept the whole drive, but around the second hour mark, you were startled awake when your body jostled forward, straining against your seatbelt uncomfortably. There was an arm trying to hold you back, despite the seatbelt having done its job well.

“Fuck,” Jungkook curses before he turns toward you, worry written all over his face. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, are you okay?”

You blink, still half asleep. “I’m okay,” you say. The minivan that Jungkook almost rear-ended continues on its merry way, carrying what seems to be a family of five. “What happened?”

He sighs, his outstretched arm retreating back to his side. “I got a bit distracted, that’s all.”

You take in your surroundings then. There’s barely any other cars in sight, no tacky billboard that sticks out like a sore thumb to catch your attention. There’s just the freeway, stretching on empty for all you can see.

“By what?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he says. “Go back to sleep. I’ll wake you when we get there.”

See, you have the superpower of falling asleep anywhere and everywhere, but once you’ve been woken up, it’s not as easy to fall back asleep.

That, and the fact that you’re hungry as shit.

You open your mouth, about to say no, about to offer to drive the rest of the way if Jungkook is tired, but your stomach doesn’t let you get a word out. It growls, filling the space of the car, making you want to chuck yourself out the fucking window and run all the way back to the city. This wouldn’t have happened had you taken the train, because if you had, there would’ve been food services and no one would be subject to hearing your stomach sing like it’s chewing out a small puppy in there. Life is nothing but an endless pit of embarrassment and despair.

Your arms hold themselves tighter around your frame, practically squeezing into your abdomen as you will it to please, please, please be quiet. Jungkook stares at you, and you can tell by the teeny tiny quirk of his lips that he’s trying to bite back a smile. He’s relaxed, but there’s still something hesitant on his face. It takes him a minute before he finally throws the question out.

“Do you want to go to that guksu place that we used-” that we used to go to, “you know the place. The one that’s right off the freeway?”

The sun is out today. The sky unfolds endlessly just outside the window, coloring blue everything your eyes land on. There are strips of clouds scattered here and there, like delicate strokes of white paint on an azure canvas. Even the winter cold has to soften.You bite into your cheek. Don’t think, that’s what he had told you.

Not much about this quaint restaurant has changed. The quirky decorations are still where they used to be, the windows still the same unique stained glass that you never came across anywhere else. You remember the elderly woman who runs the place, even if she doesn’t have a single clue who you are. The golden retriever you used to fawn over every time you stopped by, sits quietly by the door and watches the cars pass by, his fur now graying as weariness begins to settle into those old bones.

You would’ve been displeased if the place had changed, because, well, you don’t like change. But then again, this familiarity is dangerous. It tricks you into thinking that everything is still the same, even you and him. Deludes you into believing that you’re still in love and that he’ll walk out of here holding your hand.

Regardless, the first spoonful has you biting back a smile.

“How is it?” Jungkook asks.

It makes you feel all warm inside, and then a little sad, nostalgic.

“Tastes just the same,” you tell him simply.

“Hmm.”

He lets you satisfy your hunger in peace. It’s the least he can do anyway.

There’s a wall near the back of the restaurant, where people could hang polaroids of themselves and cute handwritten notes. You think if you dig through the hundreds of photos scattered across the space, you might be able to find you and Jungkook there, if you two haven’t already been thrown out long ago to make room for new memories.

He pays for your food after you’re both finished, despite some protesting on your side. As you leave, you’re busy thinking that if you could have a moment to marvel at that far-back wall of memories, if you could find a photo of you and him there, you would probably sneak it into your coat pocket.

It’d be another thing to add to your pile of Jungkook memorabilia - the old clothes in the back of your closet, the stack of dusty polaroids at the bottom of your drawer. You wonder if he keeps anything of yours, maybe an old t-shirt that you forgot to take back. It’s probably unlikely, but a girl can hope.

You miss the way Jungkook glances back, thinking the exact same thing.

You survive the rest of the drive with more ease, probably because of the food. You spend most of the remaining 2 hours leaning against the window, humming to the radio, closing your eyes but not really sleeping. You even forget to be nervous about what is to come.

That is, until the car pulls up to the venue.

It’s absolutely gorgeous, and a lot bigger than you imagined - a modern beach house overlooking the waters. It’s not as extravagant as one would expect to see when they come to a wedding, but considering the small crowd in attendance, this is more than enough. You see people rush in and out of the place even from far away - planners, caterers, the bridesmaids and groomsmen, probably.

You feel a bit comforted just watching this. His family seems to be doing a lot better than before. It’s nice to know.

You barely make it out of the car before someone calls your name, and pulls you into a hug that knocks the wind out of you. Although, when you catch the scent of her hair, you instantly know who it is.

Parents usually have a scent that’s distinct to only their kids, a scent so cozy and homely that no perfume can ever mask. You can only describe your mom’s scent with a feeling, specifically the feeling of your chest tightening, tingling with a bittersweetness that you never found elsewhere.

Strangely enough, Jungkook’s mother has always made you feel the opposite. She makes you feel relieved to be in her embrace, like she accepts you for who you are even if all you are to her, at the end of the day, is a stranger.

You hug her back awkwardly, hesitantly, in front of Jungkook’s dad, his brother Junghyun, and a girl you don’t know. You assume that she’s the bride-to-be, the main character whom this weekend revolves around. Sooji, you remember that was the name on the wedding invitation.

You get choked up suddenly, eyes turning glassy though you quickly blink it away. You’re not sure if you’ve had someone be so happy to see you. Bypassers might even think that you just found the cure for cancer.

For a second there, you wonder if your mere presence has ever made your mother this overjoyed.

You look at Jungkook for help, silently asking him to rescue you. Who else are you supposed to turn to if not him?

He understands that look. “Okay, mom,” he says, entangling her arms from you with ease, “Y/N’s tired from the drive. Let’s let her rest, yeah? I’ll show her the room.”

She ignores her son. “Honey,” she says, brushing your hair away from your face so she could see you better. “Thank you for coming.” She used to insist that you call her “mom”, or at least by her first name because “Mrs. Jeon” was too formal for someone she considered family.

You now have to opt for the latter, because “mom” isn’t an option for you anymore.

“Thank you for inviting me, Mrs. Jeon,” you tell her with a smile. You’re not really sure what else to say, but it makes you a little sad just calling her that.

She opens her mouth before closing it again, seemingly about to jokingly scold you for the formality before she recognizes the bittersweet look in your eyes. She just smiles at you then. There’s not much to be done about it.

You don’t know if anyone else sees how the moment is weighed down. Probably not. Maybe it’s just you and her who share this sentiment.

Jungkook doesn’t wait for his mom anymore. Sons, typical. He wedges himself between the two of you like a bulldozer and leads you inside the house.

Even though all you have is an overnight bag, Jungkook carries it for you all the way up to your room, which is only down the hall from his. Then he disappears pretty quickly afterward, saying something about his best man duties and putting out fires. He seems apologetic as he tells you this, but it’s not like you’re expecting him to babysit you all weekend.

You bore yourself to death in your room for a while, before you remember you have to text Yoongi to let him know you got here safely. Though, you stop short of telling him that it was Jungkook who drove you here. It’s trivial enough, right? You don’t want Yoongi to feel bad over nothing. You do, however, inform Taehyung and Jimin when you text them about it, to which Jimin only responds with a preemptively disapproving ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’

When you get too stir-crazy, you wander outside, hoping to explore the beach before it gets dark and colder. You try to stay out of everyone’s way, because a good guest is a quiet guest. You seem to be doing a good job. No one notices you, not even Jungkook’s mom but that’s because she’s the person you actively want to avoid the most. You don’t know what you’d even say to her if she gets you alone.

Everything is hectic, as one can probably imagine when it comes to wedding preparations. You haven’t had anyone close to you get married yet, so it’s safe to say that you’re pretty much clueless about all of this. You wonder what it’ll be like when your big day comes around, if you even ever get married. You haven’t thought about it in a long time. Why would you? You don’t really have a reason to think about this. It’s much easier to picture Taehyung’s or Jimin’s wedding day than your own.

Your opinion on having kids still remains the same, and you were never one of those girls who daydreamed about having a big and extravagant wedding, but it’s not such a bad idea to ponder about. You still think marriage is a scary thing - it’s one of the biggest commitments a person could ever make - but you’re not entirely opposed to getting married.

Why are you even mulling over this? Your time might never even come.

When you round the corner to get the steps that would lead you down to the beach, you run into Sooji and a woman holding a thick binder - must be a wedding planner. You give Jungkook’s future sister-in-law an awkward smile in greeting, which she returns much more gracefully before she tells the woman that she’ll be with her in a minute.

So now you’re stuck here, about to make small talk with a person you have never met before, and will likely never see again. Great.

“Hi,” you say, extending a hand. “I haven’t had the chance to introduce myself. I’m Y/N.”

“I’m Sooji,” she replies warmly as she shakes your hand, and you have to stop yourself from being a little weirdo and thinking about how silky her hair looks up close. “You’re Jungkook’s… friend, right?”

You purse your lips before nodding with a chuckle. The pause tells you that she knows, and you wouldn’t be surprised if she’s uncomfortable having you here.

“I’m sorry if this is weird. You probably don’t want a complete stranger at your wedding.”

Sooji shakes her head instantly, waving her hands around to dismiss your apology. “Please, it’s totally fine. Junghyun’s mom talked to me about it before we sent out the invites. I wouldn’t have agreed if I was really bothered. Don’t worry about it, seriously.”

“Why did you agree?” you ask, trying to sound as polite as possible. “You don’t know who I am.”

“I guess I was curious.” She shrugs, before laughing lightly as she says, “I used to think you weren’t real.”

“Huh?”

“She talks about you constantly. Never in front of Jungkook, of course. But she’s really fond of you, and you probably already know that doesn’t happen very often. She really does see you like a daughter. She made you sound too good to be true.”

You’re not sure how to respond to that. His mom still thinks about you, still talks about you after all this time. You’re just his ex-girlfriend, but she considers you her family. You don’t know what to do with this information nor the way it pinches your heart.

“I-” You purse your lips, fumbling with the responses in your head. You settle on a light laugh, because Sooji can probably tell that you’re struggling with the words too. “I have to be honest. I don’t know what to say to that.”

“You don’t have to say anything. I just thought you should know that you’re still very much loved here.” She gives you a kind smile, and it looks like she wants to tell you something else but decides against it in the end. Sooji’s eyes land somewhere behind you before she points in that general direction. “I have to go take care of an issue with the flowers, but look, Jungkook is here. Why don’t you ask him to show you around?”

And then she’s already off. Overall, what a… strange interaction.

You turn around to see Jungkook standing near one of the entrances to the house. As you watch him talk to someone - a bridesmaid, you assume, or just one of the other guests - you try not to think about the fact that there’s a stirring sensation in your stomach, and that it only intensifies when she throws her head back in a pretty laugh, a perfectly manicured hand landing on his arm like he’s the most charming person she’s ever met.

You don’t give it a name, don’t label it green in color even though you’re blue and he’s golden sunshine. You don’t acknowledge that it’s a feeling, because doing so would make it real and there are certain truths that you’d rather delude yourself into thinking are lies.

When Jungkook’s eyes catch yours and he cuts off the woman mid-sentence with a curt excuse me, you don’t acknowledge that feeling either, but it’s warm and it blooms in your chest as he makes his way to you. It’s something victorious, something that tickles your ribs.

He comes to you like you’re a destination he’s been waiting all his life to reach, and you certainly, adamantly don’t acknowledge the spectacularly dizzying feeling that swallows you whole when he places a gentle hand on your arm, his voice soft as he says, “There you are. I was looking for you.”

The familiarity, it’s catastrophic.

“I was just walking around,” you tell him. “There’s not a lot to do here. I was bored.”

“You have me,” he says. Probably not in that way, but you’d like to think that’s how he means it. “I don’t have any more fires to put out. What do you want to do now?”

You glance over your surroundings, still set on your original plans. You wanted to go alone, but you suppose you can let him accompany you. You check the time on your phone before asking, “Can we go down to the beach? I wanna see if we can catch the sunset.”

You used to do this whenever you came here to visit - walk along the beach, hand in hand, sunlight in your hair and the cool breeze holding you tight in the afterglow.

The keyword here is “used to”. Now, you have to stuff your hands in your pockets just so you don’t reach for him every time you shiver.

It’s late enough in the afternoon for you to see the moon faintly shine against a blue and orange backdrop. Sun and moon, together in the same frame. It feels symbolic somehow. You’re not really sure.

“The moon looks like an egg,” Jungkook observes astutely, taking casual strides next to you. It makes you burst into easy laughter, which makes him laugh with you too. You stop walking when you reach what you think is a good spot to watch the sky.

“Let’s sit here for a bit,” you say. It’s not the greatest idea - sitting idly by would only make you colder - but you just want to stop and look at the sunset. Once you’re seated in the sand, you respond to his moon remark, “That’s true, y’know. NASA said so.”

“Yeah,” he says, settling down beside you, “you made me read that.”

You’d forgotten about it, and you didn’t think that he’d remember. It’s freezing cold and the moon looks like an egg, but you’re not thinking, and you feel safe. Nothing can hurt you here, or at least that’s what you’d like to tell yourself.

You wrap your arms around yourself to keep from shivering, but you still shiver anyways.

“Are you cold?” he asks.

“A little,” you admit. “I should’ve worn a thicker sweater. But it’s o-”

He doesn’t let you finish the sentence, just smoothly takes off his jacket to put it around your shoulders.

You put your hands atop his to stop him. When you touch him, there’s an electric tingle that almost makes you flinch. He feels warm, still resembling a human furnace.

“No, you don’t have t-”

“Take the jacket, Y/N,” he says. “It’s just a jacket.”

The jacket smells like him. It only makes you want to crawl further into the warmth.

He seems more self-assured here, that’s what you notice. More like the version of himself that he used to be. Confident, sometimes borderline cocky. Annoying but oddly endearing, you came to love that about him.

His relaxed demeanor is understandable. You’re merely a visitor here, while this is his homeground.

“I’m curious about something,” he says after a while.

“Okay.”

“What’s the deal with Wednesdays?” he asks.

“You know how they say bad things come in threes?” You purse your lips, thinking it over, feeling something bitter in your mouth as you recall the events that led to this. “My parents got divorced on a Wednesday. I moved out of mom’s house on a Wednesday. And…” You hold your knees close to your chest as you hesitate to utter this last part, “we broke up on a Wednesday.”

You see the exact moment Jungkook mentally slaps himself, paling a couple shades as he tongues his cheek, not expecting his question to inadvertently lead back to this. It wasn’t your intention to guilt trip him. It was true that he dumped you on a Wednesday, but you don’t want the mood to turn sour, to have to mull over this again. Like he said, it will still be there for you to worry about when you get back. You’re not looking forward to returning to a shitshow, but what you’d hate even more is to tarnish the memories of this place just because you can’t keep from being vindictive for not even a weekend.

“I was born on a Wednesday too, so I guess bad things come in fours sometimes,” you continue, chuckling to yourself humorlessly.

A frown appears on his face almost instantaneously. “What is that supposed to mean?”

You shrug. Jungkook turns his body toward you, which makes you spare him a glance before you return your gaze to the horizon. His face is so serious that it’s almost funny. “Y/N,” he presses. “Why would you say that?”

“C’mon, it’s a joke. I was just being self-deprecating. Lighten up.”

“Why are you talking like that?”

“Like what? Contrary to popular belief, I don’t walk around with a thundercloud over my head all the time,” you laugh lightly. “I figured if there was a day to be nice to you, it should be today. And tomorrow, I guess.”

“This is you being nice?”

Funny how just a few weeks ago, you were fighting with him and calling him a hypocrite. Now, you’re sitting together, watching the sun set, trying not to be mean to him.

“I’m not picking a fight with you,” you say. “This is nice enough.”

“It’s not even my wedding.”

“Okay.” You glance at him again, letting words flow without a single thought. “I’ll be even nicer to you on your wedding day then.”

You don’t know where that even came from, but something aches the very second the words leave your mouth. The thought of him getting married one day makes you just nauseous, even though you always knew that it was a possibility. It might even be inevitable.

You clear your throat, waving the sullen feeling away. Your body shivers then, even after the added warmth of his jacket. Maybe you’re not shivering because of the cold anymore.

He doesn’t say anything, but you can feel his eyes linger on the side of your face. The both of you keep tiptoeing around an elephant that follows you wherever you go.

You hug your knees close to your chest, watching the blue sky melt into the golden horizon, splattered with ribbons of cotton candy clouds.

You want to scooch closer to him and have him wrap his arm around your shoulders. This isn’t the spot where you used to draw your names in the sand, enveloped in a giant heart like two lovesick kids, but wouldn’t it be nice to imagine that it is?

“I was always really happy here,” you mumble to yourself.

You were, truly. This city was your pocket of hope, your piece of peace.

Being here brings back so many memories.

It’s the same feeling you get every time you pass by somewhere you used to live. The nostalgia of walking down the same road you used to walk every day until your shoes wore out. The familiarity of your surroundings. The bittersweetness of looking into a past you cannot hold anymore, of remembering the person you were at a certain period in your life, of knowing the things you do now that you didn’t back then.

You long for things you cannot change.

Nostalgia only grows stronger with time, you can always count on that.

He hums in agreement, before admitting quietly, “I miss you.” One pulls, the other pushes. The water wavers, like it’s touched by his words, simple but earnest. You’re touched too, somewhere in your heart, where you know you should be writing someone else’s name now.

Should?

“You’re pushing it,” you say softly.

“I know.”

You look at him. Maybe it’s because you’re back in the city that holds only good memories of you two. Maybe you’re hypnotized by the way the pink and purple hues kiss his side profile, making him feel like a fever dream and not someone you loved. Maybe it’s the cold, making you yearn for any source of warmth. But instead of returning his sentiment, you say, “It’ll pass.”

He meets your eyes. There’s something pleading in his gaze. All things pass eventually. Time moves forward, people move on. Bad things will pass sooner or later. Your worst heartbreak, your most arduous trials, your saddest moments, they will all pass.

And good things… good things will have to pass too, whether you like it or not.

Your fingers twitch from where they’re still holding onto your body. You itch to reach for his hand. You don’t tell him what he wants to hear, even though here’s a part of you that wants to say it back. In a better world, you would be telling him I love you too, instead of having to suppress an I miss you too.

“All things have to pass eventually. This will too.”

[20:05] Taebear 🐻: we could go to that bar near the gallery. Y/N likes the cocktails there [20:06] Mimi 🐥: kay kay [20:06] Mimi 🐥: soooooo next friday? [20:09] Mimi 🐥: why is y/n reading our messages. shouldn’t she be at dinner [20:09] You: i approve of the bar choice [20:11] You: if you didn’t want me reading your messages, you shouldn’t have sent them to the gc [20:11] You: and if you must know, i’m skipping dinner. i’m avoiding Jungkook’s mom [20:12] Mimi 🐥: understandable. i figured you would do that [20:13] Mimi 🐥: how’s it going? are we regretting going yet? i told you to just stay home and we could binge watch the office together [20:15] You: and EYE told you that you could be a good friend and go to this wedding with me but nooooo baby doesn’t like the cold [20:16] You: you could’ve visited your parents while you’re here you know. two birds with one stone [20:18] Mimi 🐥: babes my parents stayed with me for a whole month last month. i reached my quota for family face time [20:19] You: son and friend of the year 👏 [20:20] Mimi 🐥: 😎😎😎😘

[20:22] Taebear 🐻: hey [20:23] You: uh oh. am i in trouble? why is this not in the gc? [20:25] Taebear 🐻: lol shut up [20:26] Taebear 🐻: you okay? [20:28] You: feels like that could’ve been a perfectly good question to ask in the gc [20:29] Taebear 🐻: because it’s a serious question and we both know Jimin can’t be serious for one minute to save his life [20:32] You: why does it have to be a serious question? 🤪 [20:32] Taebear 🐻: 😕 [20:33] You: stop pouting. i’m fine [20:35] Taebear 🐻: are you? [20:36] You: i am! you don’t have to go all mama bear on me [20:39] Taebear 🐻: ha ha ha. you’re so funny [20:40] Taebear 🐻: want me to call you? [20:42] You: i said i’m fiiiiiine 🙄 [20:43] You: but also no because i told everyone i was tired and i’m pretending to be asleep in my room right now [20:43] Taebear 🐻: okay [20:43] Taebear 🐻: did you eat something at least? [20:44] You: i have a cup ramen in my room [20:45] Taebear 🐻: okay [20:46] Taebear 🐻: how was today? did JK make you wanna strangle him? [20:48] You: okay Kim Taehyung at least act like you have some faith in your friend lol [20:50] You: but mmmmmm it was ok. he was mostly behaving himself [20:51] Taebear 🐻: mostly? [20:54] You: we were down at the beach and he just told me he missed me out of the blue [20:55] You: Mimi is asking why no one is replying to him [20:57] Taebear 🐻: i can see that [20:58] Taebear 🐻: what did you tell JK? [21:01] You: i quoted fleabag to him [21:09] Taebear 🐻: i had to google that [21:10] Taebear 🐻: i still don’t know what that means [21:11] You: i know you don’t lol. you’re adorable [21:11] You: i’ll tell you when i get back. [21:13] You: ok bye i have to sleep early or i’ll look like ass in the morning [21:14] Taebear 🐻: oh. okay [21:15] Taebear 🐻: sleep tight. remember not to gorge yourself on booze tomorrow [21:17] You: thanks for the reminder. love you mom 🙄💕 [21:17] Taebear 🐻: :) [21:20] Taebear 🐻: you won’t look like ass btw

You clocked out right after you told Taehyung that you would. It wasn’t a peaceful sleep though. The anxiety simmering in your belly woke you up a few times throughout the night. You don’t even know why you were anxious. It’s not like you were the one who was about to walk down the aisle.

When morning finally came and you managed to untangle yourself from the surprising comfort of your familiar bed, you practically dragged your feet for the subsequent two hours, trying to get ready. As if that would actually slow down the passage of time.

You had to compartmentalize the things you needed to do in a mental checklist. Makeup. Hair. Dress. Stare at yourself in the mirror for half an hour and internally freak out while waiting for Jungkook to come get you from your room.

Now you’re sitting in the wedding hall, watching people filter into the room. It’s not even a lot of people, but you’re still overwhelmed regardless.

You feel so exposed, even though he’s the only one looking at you in this room of strangers. He’s been looking at you like that ever since he first saw you this morning, in a dress that you got just days before the wedding. You still don’t know if it’s entirely appropriate for your ex-boyfriend’s brother’s wedding - maybe a bit revealing - but it was the only one you could find on such short notice.

When you tried on the dress for Taehyung and Jimin a few days ago, Taehyung said you looked beautiful. Jimin said you looked decent, “six point five out of ten,” which translated to “pretty nice” in Jimin-lingo. That would’ve been enough if you were going to any other wedding, not one where Jungkook would also be attending.

You had wanted him to see you and regret ever leaving you.

It was a silly thought, just a tad adolescent.

You had wanted him to see you in your dress and be consumed with thoughts of you until he couldn’t even see straight. To be the only thing on his mind, you didn’t think it was a lot to ask for.

That was before he told you not to think about it and you’d been convinced to just go with the flow just for two days. It was before he actually did see you earlier today in your dress - a simple midnight blue satin cowl neck with a slit in the thigh - but you were the one rendered helpless and speechless. He had stared at you for a minute when he came to walk you down from your room, then he’d said, all breathless even though both of you were just standing there, “You’re beautiful.”

You’re beautiful, not You look beautiful.

You don’t know why, but you appreciated it.

It made your cheeks burn underneath your artificial rosy blush. Stupid, you thought to yourself when you two made your way to the main hall. Stupid for letting yourself get dizzy because of a single compliment from him.

You’re seated with his parents, which makes sense because you don’t know anybody here except for them. Well, maybe you know one of his cousins whose kid you and Jungkook used to babysit whenever their family was in the city, but you doubt that he even remembers you anymore.

When the ceremony begins, your heart instantly feels like it’s about to drop to the pit of your stomach.

You can’t lie to yourself. It stings.

It stings just sitting here next to his parents like a daughter-in-law, like a member of their family, watching his brother solidify his happy ending.

It stings that Jungkook is standing up there, looking as handsome as ever, but his eyes aren’t on the couple. They keep flickering to you no matter how much you try to pretend that they don’t.

It stings that even though you don’t think about marriage often - or maybe you just don’t allow yourself to - you can’t deny that the thought does cross your mind from time to time. Any time that you’d wander the corridors inside your head, you’d pass the doors that you keep unopened on purpose but there’s always that one door marked with a bright red X that you can never sidestep.

You watch Junghyun and Sooji with their teary smiles and shaky hands, shaky but happy. There’s a sudden clarity that this could’ve been you and him in another life. Forever is a lie, but you would’ve perjured yourself a thousand times for him. I do - you would’ve meant it.

You imagine yourself in Sooji’s place, and Jungkook, standing right on the other side, holding both your hands in his. A beautiful and radiant bride terrified of the altar. A dashing groom with a smile that could rival the sun and shoulders weighing heavier than he lets on.

It would’ve looked clumsy, but it could’ve been right.

You wonder if he’s wondering the same thing. Maybe he is. You hope he is.

When the ceremony ends with a kiss shared between the newlyweds, you wipe away the tears that well up in your eyes. The people around you do the same thing, but they’re doing it for the right reason, out of genuine joy for the happy couple. You don’t think you can say the same for yourself.

Some of the bridesmaids fawn over him. It’s reasonable, you suppose. One tends to do that in the presence of Jeon Jungkook.

You watch as they come up to him one by one to ask him to dance, watch as he politely declines until they’re all stalking away with similar pouts on their faces. You watch him until his eyes lock on you, sitting at a table near the back, nursing a glass of champagne.

He weaves himself with ease through the people making their way to the dance floor. When he’s in front of you, he holds out a hand.

“Dance with me?” he asks, his doe eyes working overtime to lure you in with their sparkles, though you’d rather stay here where you can easily go unnoticed until the night ends. “One song?”

“I don’t know how,” you say, even as you’re taking his hand and standing up.

“I showed you how, remember?”

“That was a long time ago.”

He squeezes you reassuringly. “Just follow my lead,” he says, walking the both of you to the floor. “C’mon.”

Once the music starts, your heels stomp on his feet at least three times before you start finding the beat to move along to. Muscle memory, or whatever, is bullshit. You remember absolutely nothing of what he showed you.

You’re grateful that the song is slow, because it makes it easier for you to follow the beat with your two left feet. He takes one of your hands in his, the other settling on the small of your back, guiding you to move in a steady rhythm.

You feel his mother’s eyes on the two of you, because she must be somewhere nearby, watching you like a hawk. You feel his gaze on your face while you keep yours on the knot of his tie, just trying to keep your composure and to not step on his feet with your heels.

The blur of white that you catch from the periphery of your vision makes you turn your head. Sooji and Junghyun are close by, swaying together slowly to the soft music, both of them glowing with happiness. She must sense your eyes on her, because she lifts her gaze up to meet yours. She smiles at the sight of you and Jungkook, and you smile back, because you don’t know how else to respond to that.

You don’t say it, but you do think it. Your fingers tighten around his hand ever so slightly.

Could that have been us?

If the answer is yes, then it would hurt.

If the answer is no, then it would hurt.

The point of your story is that it’s painful however you choose to look at it. There’s no other way to frame it. It’s just painful, because you’re never going to get any of it back.

You bite your lip, then turn away from the happy couple but you still don’t look at Jungkook. You look at your hand in his, and that’s when you see it.

“How’d you get that?” you ask, gently tracing the inch of slightly raised skin on his knuckles. You never noticed the scar until now.

“It was four years ago, I think? After Taehyung and I almost got into a fight, I went outside and… punched a wall,” he says, wincing as he recalls the memory.

His answer takes you aback. “You and Taehyung got into a fight?”

“Almost,” he corrects. “It was a long time ago. Didn’t they tell you?”

“No, they didn’t say anything. What happened?”

“Nothing happened.”

“If it was really nothing, you wouldn’t have punched a wall.” You frown. It makes you miss a few beats, but the song isn’t what’s important now, even if Jungkook is still trying to steer you back into the dance. “Taehyung isn’t violent. You aren’t violent.”

“I’m serious,” he says finally. “It’s nothing. We were just drunk and stupid.”

You know there must be more to it, that something must have happened or been said to trigger such a reaction from both of them. But you also know that you won’t probably get anything out of Jungkook if he doesn’t want to tell you.

You give up, for now. “Fine. If you say so.” You’ll just have to weasel it out of Jimin later.

The song comes to an end, before another one comes on. If Jungkook remembers that he only asked for one song, maybe he’s counting his blessings that you’re still here and dancing with him, because he doesn’t mention it.

For some reason, you pull your hand away from his, only to slide up his shoulder to lock both of your hands behind his neck. He seems surprised, but he does the same around your waist.

Jungkook’s gaze flickers to your lips briefly, then back to your eyes again. You find yourself doing the same and wonder what he tastes like after all the time you’ve been apart. Is he still as sweet as you remember? You used to tease that it was because of the excessive sugar he put in everything, but you knew it was really just him. The few inches between you are so inviting that it’s practically tempting you to close the gap. You could, easily in fact. Blame it on one too many glasses of champagne later if you want.

He looks younger like this, like the boy you loved, starry eyes and dimpled smile. His shoulders are always the most comfortable resting place, the crook of his neck your long lost home. This is nice, you think, to see him again even though it feels like a fever dream. Memories of your first date, your first kiss, come to life before your eyes so realistically that you could almost touch them.

Loved? That sounds funny to you.

The people you used to be, souls wrapped in innocence, when the world was nothing but the arms of the person you loved. You reach out, and the memories quickly fade from view. The only trace they leave behind is a speck of gold on your fingertips, a memento of charming naiveté for you to tuck neatly away in the corner of your mind, but also a reminder that ah, they only exist in the locket of your heart now. Because he has changed, and you think you must have too. Life, as they say, goes on.

“We made it. Kind of. That’s crazy,” you find yourself saying.

“Did we?”

“You don’t think so?” you chuckle. “We’re in a group chat with the Kim Seokjin who spams it with bad jokes on a daily basis. I’d call that a win.”

That makes him laugh. “If you put it like that, yeah, maybe. Sure.”

Other people might be fooled, but it doesn’t sound at all convincing to you. The light doesn’t really reach his eyes. You bite the inside of your cheek, thinking of how to translate the sudden poignant turn of the moment.

“It isn’t everything you hoped it’d be?” you ask.

His shoulders rise then fall quickly in a second-long shrug. “I thought it would make me feel more… fulfilled. But it doesn’t. Not really.”

The way he says it and the way he’s looking at you makes your heart dive. You understand what he means. You’re good at what you do, and you don’t need reassurance from anyone to recognize that. But sometimes, it doesn’t feel like it’s enough. Doesn’t feel like it’s real, like it’s validated.

When you landed your first big project, even before Yoongi, you were so proud of yourself. You were bursting with excitement but you weren’t happy, and you knew what the reason was. Something was missing that couldn’t be filled, not even with all your friends’ hundreds of messages of encouragement.

It’s beyond stupid, this feeling like your wins amount to nothing at all just because of one person. You wanted him there to celebrate every achievement with you and he wasn’t, and the milestones seemed incomplete without the presence of him. It doesn’t feel like you’ve accomplished anything because this always used to be a dream you thought you’d make come true together.

“It’s lonely,” he concludes.

It sounds like he feels the same way, like he wanted you to be there too.

He suddenly holds you tighter than you think he needs to, like he’s afraid to let go of you. You imagine that he doesn’t want to let go of you, and it makes you feel better for a second. But it doesn’t change the fact that he still did in the end. And he will have to when this ends.

What was the point of this? Why did he bring this upon yourselves when he seems to be as hurt as you are? All of this time, all of these years, lost to what? You could’ve been happy together but instead, you were both lost and miserable.

When the music stops - you lost count of how many songs it’s been - you pull away from him. He looks disappointed, maybe even a little hurt for some reason.

“I’m gonna get some air,” you say, already turning away from him.

“Y/N-”

“I need some air.” Then you’re weaving through the dancing couples despite Jungkook calling your name. How did he manage it? How did he not look back when you called out for him?

You hastily grab your coat on the way out. It’s not going to keep you warm, but that’s not something you’re even remotely concerned with.

It’s everywhere, you feel it down to your bones.

The wind wraps itself tightly around you, intertwining in your hair, slipping through the cracks of your fingers, caressing your face in a chilling touch. You greet the cold like a long lost sister, shivering violently with nostalgia. It was there for you more than your own flesh and blood.

Is that why you like the sea at night? Because it reminds you of mom?

It’s dark out here, barely anything is visible except for a lighthouse sending out light in the quiet of the night. You can’t see much, but you can certainly hear it. You’re not sure if the music is coming from inside the venue, or if it’s still ringing in your ears. It’s probably the latter; you’re too far away to be able to catch the music anyway. But regardless, the tune is quickly drowned out by the sea.

The waves crash violently against the shore like it’s out for blood. There’s a magnetic pull, as if it’s calling out for you. You want to go to it, to reach out and feel the cold outside of your body for once, but you stay there despite your legs itching to stand up and run straight ahead. Into the water and down under.

You could lie down and close your eyes for a moment. The sound of the water, as sharp and brutal as it is, nurtures a part of you somehow.

You just want to be alone. You don’t want to talk to Taehyung, or Jimin, or even Yoongi.

Oh.

Yoongi.

It’s a terrible feeling, knowing that you’re going to hurt Yoongi. Knowing that you’re going to kill this even before it has a chance to truly begin.

Truth be told, you can’t envision a future with Yoongi. There isn’t anything wrong with him, because he’s not the problem here. Yoongi is fun, he’s considerate, he keeps things light on purpose for you, until you’re ready to initiate something more serious. He’s good for you, even Taehyung thinks so.

But you can’t love Yoongi, not in the way that he wants you to. Not more than you love Jungkook.

There you go. Ruining things again.

Did you ruin Jungkook? Is that what happened?

The layers on you are no match for the sea at night. The wind hisses relentlessly, biting at any part of your skin that’s exposed.

It takes you back to that night. Almost everything does, actually.

Maybe that’s why you never even stopped to consider starting anything with anyone, because it always ends. If there’s a beginning, then there will be an inevitable ending. Love isn’t made to last and you aren’t meant to carry love with you. You’ve been abandoned twice. If it happens a third time, it’s a pattern, and then your hypothesis will only be proven. That the problem here is you.

You’d be lying if you said you haven’t wondered when it’ll finally be Taehyung’s turn to leave. He eventually will, right? That one’s gonna hurt.

Then, you’re startled when someone calls your name.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks. The wind and the waves masked the sound of his footsteps walking up to you. When you turn around to face him, his eyes grow worried, almost panicked. “Why are you crying?”

You breathe out irritatedly before you hastily wipe at your cheeks. You didn’t even realize that you’d been crying. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine,” you say, though you both know it’s a lie. “I’m just tired. I’m going up to my room.”

He catches your wrist in a firm grip when you try to walk away. You wish he’d just leave you alone, but you knew he wouldn’t drop it just like that.

“I said I’m fine,” you insist.

“You were crying,” he says. “Did I do something wrong?”

He didn’t, at least not tonight.

God, you really don’t want to do this right now.

“Jungkook,” you warn. “Let go of me.”

You try to free yourself from his grip, hoping that he’ll get the hint and back off for now. Instead, he pulls you into his chest, where you struggle to escape from his hold until you realize your efforts are futile. He takes the wind’s place, wound tightly around you, so tightly that it’s nearly impossible for you to move.

You hiss out his name, but he doesn’t budge.

“Jungkook, can you just- Fuck!”

Damn him.

You realize he’s not giving up, which in turn makes you give up struggling, hoping that if you let this be a moment, then it’ll be something that can pass.

You’re just standing there, letting him hold you, letting yourself be held by the person who broke you in the first place. This feels exactly like where you’re supposed to be - in his arms, with your face hidden in the crook of his neck, his gentle fingers stroking your hair. There’s not a lot that you could do but lean into that feeling the same way you lean into him. One foot in the sand, one foot in the past. A hand on the doorknob of time, wondering if you should look back or look forward.

You want to be alone, but that never used to apply with him.

The wind stills, the sea calms. You remain unmoving too, locked in his embrace. You feel the faint rhythm of his heart, beating faster than you think it should. If you could, you would bottle this moment up and live there forever.

I miss you, you think.

I miss you.

Then your arms are around him too. It only makes him hold you tighter, and all you can think about is how much you miss him, how painful it is to miss him, how you feel like you’re being pulled apart at the seams from the weight of missing him.

Fuck.

Can you pretend that the last few years never happened? Is there a higher power that would allow you to go back to the night before that wretched Wednesday, when everything was still perfect? Hundreds of days of your life, can you pretend that it was just one long nightmare? When you wake up, you’ll be back in his humble apartment, tangled up together in his bed. Warm sunlight, your silken youth, and him. It was all you ever needed.

Again with the devastating familiarity. The city, the beach. His mother’s warmth that always made you reminisce about your own mother’s coldness. How Jungkook used to find you in moments like this and just stayed by your side until the dejection passed. He understood that he could never understand it the way you did.

You hear yourself sniffle, then you feel him press a kiss into your hair. Home is comforting.

Oh, you never want to leave.

You don’t want to leave, and that’s terrifying.

You allow yourself to stay there for one more second - one endless second - so you could commit to memory what it’s like to be with him. Back and forth. It’s always so easy to fall into him.

Jungkook releases you when he feels you loosen after a while, and you reluctantly meet his eyes as he tilts your head to face him. His fingers cradling your jaw, how warm and delicate they feel on your skin.

You swallow thickly, your mind going blank. He’s the only person you see, the only one that matters. His eyes flicker south, and even then you don’t make any move to run away, despite his loose grip on your waist telling you that you can if you want to.

You told him that it would pass, and maybe for him, it will. For him, it’s the city and the moment, making him feel like he’s caught up in a page that he’s turned over a long time ago. He was fine with leaving, and he’s been fine without you. It will pass for him, as much as it hurts you to admit it.

But not for you. For you, there’s only him. There’s nobody else but him. It’s always been him, no matter how hard you try to tell yourself that there will be another person you can love as much as you love Jungkook. You might only be a page, perhaps even a chapter, in the story of his life, but he’s your entire book. He’s volume after volume after volume, until he takes up the whole shelf and leaves no room for anything else, not even for yourself.

And now here he is - at the biggest turn in your career.

He’s a bad blood cell you can’t ever get rid of.

You’ll never be able to truly let go of him. How could you? When you truly love someone, those feelings will carry on forever. They’ll always have a piece of your heart despite an ending. When you look back on a certain period in your life, you’ll think to yourself, You’ll always be a part of me. I loved you then.

But Jungkook is a force of nature. He has your whole heart.

Years and years from now, when you look back on your life, you know you’ll see him everywhere. Even when you’re old and gray, and when faces all just blur together in a mosaic of broken memories and long lost youth, you know you’ll still remember him - the person you loved, the one whom you let slip through your fingers. The great love of your life when you were young.

Sometimes, you regret that day. You can’t help feeling like it was your fault too. Maybe you should’ve tried harder to keep him. You should’ve fought harder, should’ve held onto him instead of standing there and watching him leave.

He lit the match, and you let the house burn. It takes two to tango, two to break a heart.

You’re quick to let people leave. Oh, how you wish it could be that easy to let them go too.

It isn’t until your eyes mimic the flicker of his gaze that he leans in. You meet him halfway. For the first time in years, you feel like you could breathe, truly breathe. It’s achingly slow, like neither of you can believe that this is happening.

You sigh against his mouth when his tongue brushes your bottom lip, slips past the seal to devour you. It feels like a perfect dream. You could stay in this bubble with him forever, pretend that you’re the only two people who exist in the world and there’s nothing else, no one else, waiting for you in a city that seems so far away right now. The thought of him never left you, not even for a second. He’s always been with you everywhere you go, no matter what you do, always in the back of your mind.

He tastes like your youth, like remembrance. He kisses you like he’s still yours when deep down you know that you’re still his. The hand on your jaw is gentle but firm, and it makes you repeat a thought, I miss you.

Then a feeling, I love you.

Not then. Now.

I love you now.

I love you even when I shouldn’t. Even when it hurts. Even when you leave me. Even when you don’t love me more than I love you. If there comes a day where you love somebody else, I will still love you then. There will never be another person for me but you. My first and only love.

When he pulls away, you think it’s too quick, even though your lungs are grateful for the breath that you instantly inhale. You stare at his lips like you’re in a daze, mesmerized, wanting to chase them again. You don’t even know how you have it in yourself to utter these next words, but you hear your own voice saying them anyway.

You’re holding onto him now. Doesn’t that count?

“Let’s…” Your fingers tighten on the collar of his dress shirt. “Let’s go up to your room.”

note (2): so... what do we think?? will they?? won't they?? 😵 stay tuned for obs7.5 which will be dropping 29.09.2023! also i'm gonna pause obs muse asks for a little bit! 😬

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personasintro · 1 year

Text

Love Lockdown | 07

𝐯𝐢𝐢. 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; rather be drenched by the rain than dead

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: yoongi x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: zombie apocalypse au, enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, eventual smut, horror au (?), slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, fingering, breast and nipple play, unprotected sex, denied orgasm, dirty talk

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 17k+

banner by: @dee-ehn

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢

“Yoongi?”

The said man lowers his knife, squinting his eyes into the distance at the approaching bodies as he slowly deciphers there's no real threat.

“Is that you?”

His features soften and a sign of hope casts over them before he's enveloped in a bone-crushing hug. He's shocked, not believing he's hearing and seeing right. The two of you are no longer alone. It all happens fast, definitely takes longer for you and Yoongi to fully realize who's actually here. However, it proves to be a reality when the light from their flashlights flashes upon them and you're met with three familiar faces.

“Cher?” Yoongi asks, sounding as if he still can't believe the redhead is in his arms as he slowly hugs her back.

Bruno lingers around for a while before he urges Cherry to step away, the two men welcoming each other with slaps to their backs and hugs. You're not sure you've ever seen Yoongi smile that much. Especially when he reunites with Xavier who almost jumps into his arms, Yoongi holding onto him for a dear life.

You've not been around for a long time, yet you're aware of their bond. Xavier is like his little brother. His big responsibility and to know he is safe and here, must mean a lot to Yoongi.

Xavier surprises you when he rushes toward you and hugs you, murmuring how happy he is to find you and Yoongi. You hug him back, heart warming at his evident happiness of reuniting with you two.

As much as you're happy to see someone familiar, no matter what the actual relationships you have with them, there's not everyone and it makes you panic. Especially when you spot Yoongi counting all of them with his sharp eyes as a frown makes it to his face again.

“Where's Taehyung?” And Zoya? Even the stupid Johnny?

But you don't get to say their names when Cherry's eyes set upon you, a look of distaste clear even in the darkness. “Oh, you're still alive.”

Ignoring her remark, you clench your jaw and glare at her as Yoongi speaks up. “Cher, where are they?”

The rain has drenched everyone's clothes, but there's nothing you can do at the moment other than trying to stay under the trees. It's too dangerous to be moving during the night and soon enough, their flashlights are turned off too not to catch any unwanted attention.

“We lost them, Yoongi.” Bruno speaks, voice trembling. “We got into the other building together but there were undeads there. We were separated and we don't know–” He chokes up, your chest clenching at his obvious vulnerability.

Despite not knowing them for long, your own body tenses and you wait for the worst, wondering if any of them made it out alive.

“We don't know where they are or if they are alive.” Cherry finishes for Bruno, the man rubbing his forehead frustratedly as Xavier stands next to you and looks at the ground.

“We managed to get out, hyung. But it was impossible to get to them.” Xavier speaks up with a silent tone, Yoongi shifting his eyes to him.

“It's okay,” he responds quietly, “You tried your best. I'm glad you guys are safe.”

This is certainly hard for him to say. Even you can tell how Yoongi struggles to not show how worried he is for the rest of the group, trying to wrap his head around what they just told him.

“It's okay,” he repeats, trying to assure everyone – or maybe himself. “We're gonna stick to the plan. Get to the center and hope for the best.”

That's what a leader does. Guiding his group and making tough decisions. All of you know they could be anywhere, dead or alive. There's no way or realistic chance of you finding them. They had a deal after all. One they can't break because it's their only hope.

“I fucking hate this.” Cherry mutters through her teeth, sounding rather impatient. Johnny is somewhere out there too, he's her brother after all. She must be worried about him as well.

Even if he gives you weird vibes and you've never had any good experience with him, you do hope everyone's alright. It's a miracle you bumped into Ben, Xavier and even Cherry.

“You're not alone.” Xavier joins just as the rain starts to pour again.

“Fucking great.” she sneers.

“What are we gonna do?” Bruno asks, looking up at the sky as all of you get closer to the tree to at least hide under the tall and long branches.

“It's too dark, it's safer to stay here and wait it out. We should wait till the morning to move.” Yoongi explains as you slowly sit down, leaning against the tree again.

The slight chilliness makes you shiver as you cuddle to yourself while the sighs and whines resound from the group because of the weather. Like Yoongi said, it's safer to wait it out and all of them know that. They have to be smart. Trying to rush to the center to see their friends again, hopefully, is not going to keep them alive. They soon follow you, each of you sitting against the three. With the sound of rain pouring as it hits the leaves and ground, Cherry fills up Yoongi with what they've been through with a silent voice. Bruno remains quiet, too deep in his thoughts to engage himself in any conversation while Xavier falls asleep in a record time, his head hitting your shoulder as he uses it as a pillow. It's the only thing that makes your lips curl into a soft smile.

The rain continues for almost the entire night, making it hard to fall asleep or even rest. It doesn't look like it's going to stop any time soon. You're going to be entirely drenched by the time rain stops.

But rather be drenched by the rain than dead.

Bruno has found a watch. Just an old one with a brown worn out stripe, it was tossed in one of the buildings they were stuck in. He's not sure if it's set right, but it seems to be when the tiny hands moving indicates that it's working. Apparently, it's 9:22. You hear their distant voices in the back of your mind and the conversation is the cause that makes your eyes crack open.

It takes you a moment to properly wake up and notice them standing not that far away, talking to each other. You notice Xavier still sleeping soundlessly next to you and you wonder if you looked that peaceful too.

Something's not right. Not only are your clothes still wet from the rain that you're not sure when it stopped, but your head is killing you. The sharp throbbing pain makes you groan softly as you shudder in your wet clothes. It's undoubtedly the result of the weather.

The group stops chatting, a few words exchanged between them before they go to grab their stuff from the ground. You and Yoongi share a look for a short period of time, barely noticeable but enough for him to notice you're already awake. No words are said, just Yoongi softly shaking Xavier's shoulder as he wakes him up.

Bruno goes to grab his backpack that's sitting next to you. His brown big eyes set on your exhausted figure. “Are you alright?”

You're not sure what to answer. Is it something worth mentioning? You're pretty sure none of them feel absolutely alright, considering the conditions under you're trying to survive. The headache is surely caused by the lack of sleep and the poor weather that accompanied you throughout the entire night.

You hear Cherry complaining about her wet clothes in the distance too, saying she hopes they find some kind of house or something where she can change it. You agree. Dry clothes sound really good right now.

So with a little and not so genuine smile you offer to Bruno, you simply say; “Yeah.”

He doesn't question you, busy grabbing his stuff as he informs you of having to move while it's bright outside. He doesn't have to say how it's your only chance to be moving more safely and not attracting any attention from the undeads. That's unless you bump into them, of course. You know all of that, so it remains unsaid and you're left alone with your thoughts as you grab your own stuff and join them with Xavier still half-asleep walking next to you.

A few minutes later after Yoongi and Cherry are walking ahead and Bruno behind you, Xavier engages you in a conversation, seeming to be fully awake now.

“I hope they're alright.” he murmurs to no one but you.

The side of his face is perfectly shown to you as you see concern crossing his young features. His hair is long, everyone's hair is compared to the first time you saw them. Logically. None of you had the chance to find scissors or even need to get a haircut. The simple thought would almost make you crack a grin if you didn't feel like shit.

Looking ahead of you, you see Yoongi's back as he looks around while walking with a prominent yet attentive frown. His hair is the longest out of all the guys. You remember it was almost reaching his eyes when you first saw him, but now, they reach the back of his neck. Despite all of you being unkempt, paradoxically he looks the best. The hair suits him and you do wonder how he looked before the apocalypse. Was he the type to have a neat haircut? Did he change it often? Your damn curiosity.

“I hope so too.” you tell him softly. He's not a kid, despite Yoongi calling him one. You're not going to feed him with untrue words and give him false hope, when you both know how today's world works. Even he knows that.

“We have,” he starts, taking a breath before starting again. “We've never gotten separated like this before. Yes, we were facing close death too many times but this is the first time we got separated.”

Xavier has always been this sunshine of a boy, almost like he's hoping for the best all the time and ignoring the brutal reality of today's world. That's what was your first impression of him and it continued as you got to know him better. Sure, you haven't really talked or become close friends, but you could've seen a good glimpse of his personality. Innocence is what would radiate off him. He's not stupid or naive though.

Seeing him vulnerable like this, and to know he's saying this to you out of all people, shows you another side of him. More concerned, worried and scared. Maybe that's why he has chosen to talk to you. Not only because he's been walking next to you for the past ten minutes or so, but because he's scared and he needs to get it off his chest. You get that.

“I'm scared too,” you admit. “For them. I really hope they're… okay.” Alive, is what you mean.

Your throat is itchy, something that came to the surface after a few minutes of being awake. The group is determined to get as close to the center as possible, you fully understand that because it's everyone's goal. Probably the only thing you have in common and the only reason why you're still here, with them. However, even as the sun starts to warm up and makes everyone's thin jacket or hoodies be undressed, you leave your thin jacket on and ignore the slight shivering that intensifies with each minute.

“You're a good person, Y/N,” Xavier tells you, shooting you a soft yet pained smile from your conversation. “I don't think any other person would be so considerate of our friends.”

There's no reason for you not to be. They still took you, even with a few complaints from certain people, but you're here.

All you can muster to give him in return is a small smile. A concern washes over his face when he looks at you, the smile dropping. “Are you okay?”

You don't feel okay. You feel worse and worse and each step is more difficult to make. You're short of breath, despite the group not going too fast and the pace is kept normal so all of you can get the furthest without being too exhausted. You still have a long way to go, according to the map you remember seeing and even though you're not quite sure where you're at, you know it's going to take days if not weeks to get to the center.

Your lips feel dry, though drinking water on your sore throat feels like a nightmare at the moment. You're not even sure if you have some water left in your backpack.

“Hyung,” Xavier calls to Yoongi before you can open your mouth, but even that feels difficult. “Can we stop for a moment?”

Yoongi looks over his shoulder at Xavier. “Why?” he questions, sounding slightly worried as he checks the youngest.

“I think Y/N needs to rest for a moment.” His intention is innocent and good, yet you wish he kept his mouth shut because the scoff that makes it out of Cherry's lips echoes in your ears.

“We've been barely walking for thirty minutes, kid.” Yoongi still talks to Xavier, pointing out the obvious as Xavier only nods in understatement, but opens his mouth again.

“I know, but we can surely stop for five minutes?” he asks, sounding hopeful as you keep your eyes on your feet, focusing on the branches underneath them as the uneven ground feels like your worst enemy.

You're getting weaker. It's not like you can't walk at all. But knowing your body, you acknowledge there's something going on, something that's most likely the cause of the rain. And you're mad. Mad at the freaking weather and at anything that had to do with this.

“I'm okay.” you mutter, waving Xavier off and completely missing out on his frown.

“See? She's fine, now let's go.” Cherry sings out.

No one has stopped for a second, even the conversation has been happening while walking.

“We can take a break in thirty minutes. We need to move, Xav.” Yoongi reminds him, urging the group to keep moving.

He's right. Even though you feel like you need a new set of clothes and rest among other things, he is right. You need to move. You can't waste any more time than you already have. They have another reason to get to the center as fast as possible. Their friends.

“But–”

“Didn't you hear?” Cherry snaps, “We need to move. She said she's okay.”

“She doesn't look okay!” Xavier exclaims as Yoongi sighs and rubs his forehead.

“Xav,” Yoongi starts calmly, “We will rest soon, okay? We should get out of these woods first.”

Xavier fumes but keeps his mouth shut, knowing Yoongi's words are final. He gives you an apologetic smile and you try to smile back. You don't even remember if you smiled. All you think about is to move your feet and try to get as far as they can lead you. You ignore all the signs your body gives you, even the shivering that intensifies.

“Aren't you warm? Maybe you should take the jacket off.” Xavier suggests after a while but you wave him off.

“No, I'm–” you yelp, your feet weak as they cause you to stumble and lose your balance.

Someone catches you quickly just as Xavier's hand remains on your forearm, holding you up too. You realize it's Bruno behind you, making sure you don't fall as he gets you to your feet as you thank him, trying to hide the embarrassment. Your yelp caused Yoongi and Cherry to stop in their tracks, watching the whole thing too which only adds to your embarrassment, let alone the silent snicker she lets out.

“You're not okay.” Xavier says, almost like informing the whole group with a little attitude in his voice while Bruno turns you to him.

You're met with his brown eyes again, they travel all over your face and body as he still has a hold on you. He frowns, “You're shivering.”

Now that you're not moving, you realize that he's right. You're shivering even more, not being able to control it any longer. You watch him lift his hand up to your face, checking the temperature on your forehead and cheeks.

“You're burning up.” he informs shockingly.

“Great.” Cherry mutters sarcastically, annoyed that there's another trouble that involves you.

You manage to give her a bad look, though your head spins as Bruno slowly leans you against the tree. “She has a fever.” Bruno states the obvious to Yoongi while Xavier gives everyone I told you so look.

But you miss all the details, barely able to keep your eyes open as you breathe heavily, closing your eyes from the exhaustion.

“How can she have a fever in fucking summer?” Cherry exclaims, slapping her arms at her sides.

You want to talk back so badly, to state the obvious but thankfully, Bruno manages to do so in the most sophisticated and informative way. “Summer nights are not all warm, Cher. Plus they've been sleeping outside for countless nights and then the rain happened. It's normal that she's caught something.”

“What is it?” you ask weakly.

Bruno looks back at you, “I don't know. Maybe cold? Or the flu. In the best case.”

“You've got to be kidding me.” Cherry mutters, rubbing her forehead. You know what she thinks. All of them are fine, lived under the same conditions like you have, yet you're the one being sick. You're the trouble. Always. Her obvious dislike toward you doesn't help either.

“It's not like she chose to get sick.” Xavier states, earning a glare from her too.

“No, but she's always the trouble, don't you guys see? We need to get back to Zoya, Taehyung and my brother. She's slowing us down.”

You can't believe you're having this conversation again. Well, they have. You're so out of it that you can't say anything back, but you're aware of every word that is spoken.

“Harangue won't help us, Cher.” Bruno reminds her as she gasps in disbelief.

“Even if she is sick,” Yoongi finally speaks up, sighing as he glances at you. “We can't stay here. She can't stay here.”

“That's true. It would be for the best if we could find a shelter or something where she could properly rest. It looks like it might be raining tonight too. We shouldn't risk any of us getting sick or her getting worse.” Bruno explains as Yoongi nods.

He doesn't look too happy about this, but he keeps his thoughts away. “Alright. Then let's get out of here and let's find something where we can hide.”

“Yoongi–”

“Cher, it's final.” Yoongi sighs, causing her to do the same as she fumes in silence.

“Are you okay walking on your own?” Bruno asks next to you, watching you in concern as you straighten up.

“Yeah, yeah. Thanks.”

Xavier watches you worriedly along with Bruno, as you're about to take a step. Your legs shake and you feel like an animal at freaking ZOO now that they're watching.

“Come on, get on my back.” Bruno suggests, already turning around so you can hop on, but you shake your hands.

“No, I'm fine. Really.” you tell him weakly, trying to push Xavier's hands as he's approaching too.

“Let them fucking help you, so we can get out of here.” Cherry calls, already a few meters away from you along with Yoongi. They must've noticed you're not following them, so they stopped and saw the entire moment.

“Y/N, you're not helping anyone right now.” Bruno reminds you.

You share a look with him, your features scrunching in discomfort and sadness as he offers you a pained smile. “Let me help you.”

Letting out a shaky breath, you give him a weak nod as he takes off his backpack. “Xav, take this for me please.”

Xavier listens, quickly grabbing Bruno's backpack as he watches the tanned man crouch down in front of you, so you can get on his back. You somehow do, afraid you're going to fall but Bruno quickly grabs you by the back of your thighs. Wrapping your arms over his neck, you suddenly feel a little bit of relief that you're off your feet.

“Let's go.” You hear Yoongi mutter, luckily no words about your state are muttered or said from any of them. It's the only thing that somehow lets your eyes close.

You're not sure how long you've been walking for. Well, they, not exactly you as you stay on Bruno's back, in and out of your conscience. Xavier checks on you every now and then, though you're not sure in what intervals. You always hum in return when he asks if you're fine, eyes still closed. It's until Bruno adjusts you on his back for God knows how many times, that makes Xavier question whether he should help or not.

How else could he help? He's a teenager and not that anyone would disregard his strength and body physics, he certainly wouldn't be able to have your entire weight on his back for a long time.

This causes the group to stop the second time, enough to make your eyes crack open to notice you're still in the woods. It all looks the same. You've no idea whether an hour passed or only a few minutes. Sun shines brightly on top of the sky and you start feeling a little too warm, but you don't care to mention or do anything about it. You just want to close your eyes again.

Bruno groans, finally informing the guys he needs a break. His back is probably hurting from carrying you for who knows how long. An apology is on your tongue but it's interrupted when he gently places you down on the ground. It's the first time the group has a full view on you since you first stopped.

Even Yoongi seems a little shocked to see you so out of it. Him and Bruno share a look. He's silently telling him it's not looking good and this, indeed, will be another bump along the road. While Cherry seems to be annoyed as ever, Xavier watches worriedly in the distance as he sees your head leaned against the tree.

“Great. We're not gonna get out of these woods today.” Cherry complains. In a way you understand her. Today's goal was to get out of here, spending another night here is another risk. You hate that you're ruining it.

“We are,” Yoongi says. “We'll keep moving.”

“Yoongi, I just need–”

“I'll take her.” Yoongi interrupts him before unneeded words have to be said. There's no time to waste and it's starting to annoy him that he has to deal with these conversations where one of them is complaining, while the others bring up the evident issue.

Cherry scoffs, but Yoongi ignores her as he comes up to you with a sigh. He crouches down, enough to see you open your eyes slightly. “Dove? You alive?” he asks, frowning a little as you wet your dry lips slowly.

“Unfortunately for you, yes.” you weakly say, cracking a small smile that makes him let out a chuckle.

He notices your breathing is uneven, skin slightly sweaty as a few tiny strands of hair stick to your forehead and cheeks. With the back of his palm, he touches your cheek before informing Bruno; “She's burning up.”

“We need to get her somewhere safe where she can lay down.” And that's only the beginning, both of them know that.

“Do you want to take this off?” Yoongi asks you, gently tugging onto the end of your thin jacket as you weakly nod.

He helps you take it off as he tosses it to Bruno to take it. He does with no complaints as he tosses it over his shoulder and lets it rest there, while Xavier hands him back his backpack.

Yoongi ushers you to lift up yourself, ignoring the whines of complaints that naturally come out of your exhausted body. He doesn't fuck around and isn't too gentle as he quickly grabs your waist and tucks the other arm under your knees. He lifts you up abruptly, causing you to wrap your arms around his neck quickly.

“Let's go.” he mutters to the group, starting to walk as the rest of them quickly join behind him.

Your eyes close as soon as you know you're able to rest again, most importantly that you know you're safe. And you can't believe you're in Yoongi's arms. You've never thought you would be in this position. The hell, you never even imagined it. You're guessing, Yoongi is not as cold as you thought. However, you're fully aware he's doing this to get everyone out of these freaking woods. You don't see inside his head, but you're sure it's the main reason for him helping you – and Bruno of course, whom you feel very sorry for since he had to carry you for a time that's unsure to you.

The sun shines on your face from time to time, the tall trees and leaves mostly prevent it from happening, though it's enough for you to open your eyes slightly. You're met with Yoongi's face from below, mostly seeing his neck and chin but you can tell he's facing forward, focusing on the way ahead. You've never seen him from this point of view, it's a rare sight. One you're sure you won't be seeing anymore.

You hear a small chattering behind you, mostly recognizing Xavier's and Bruno’s voice. Cherry must be with them, though remains silent for most of the time.

“I'm sorry.” you whisper, clearing your throat which makes you cringe at the sharp pain inside of it.

Yoongi looks down, finding you awake and staring at him while you tighten your arms around his neck. They loosened up after a while, proving how out of it you really are. For a moment, he only stares with his same cold expression you've grown used to. You look terrible, he thinks but doesn't voice out the obvious.

“You're a little trouble, aren't you?” he mutters, the corner of his mouth twitching in mere teasing before he looks up and ahead once again.

No matter what his words were just a second ago, there's no true blame in them. You're not sure what to think of them, but you're glad regardless. Glad that he's not blaming you or complaining when you're in this state. Letting you rest as your eyes close again, your arms lose up around his neck and he adjusts you slightly as his hold on you tightens.

He can feel his back getting sweaty, your hot body warming his isn't helping at all. Even his damp clothes are almost completely dry from the heat of this year's summer. But he has to keep moving and get his group to safety.

“Hyung, look, there!” Xavier exclaims, jolting you out of your sleep.

You blink away the sun as the surroundings become more clear. The group seems to let out a sigh of relief, some of them chuckles as if they couldn't believe their eyes. You're on top of the hill, thanks to which you get a good view of what lies beneath it. Green and almost yellowish grass covers a huge space and in the distance, there's a small building of something. All of you are too far away to fully see what it is, but at least it's something. In the distance, it seems like it's a town or a village but it's further away from the small building.

“Let's not waste time,” Yoongi says, “Be careful everyone.”

Yoongi moves again, your whole body with him as you cringe at your dry throat. Your consciousness is in and out all over again, you can't seem to stay attentive or fully awake for a long time. Your body screams for rest and as much as you're grateful for Yoongi's arms carrying you, you feel like throwing up from all that jolting and moving. Thankfully, time seems to pass quickly when you can barely tell time in your state.

Soon enough, you're not that far away from the building you saw at the hill. “It seems like it's a small house. Or cottage.” Cherry murmurs, approaching the tiny building that slowly comes to the view.

“We have to check it out first. Anyone could be there. It's literally the first house we've seen around here.” Bruno joins, causing Yoongi to hum in agreement.

“Hyung, you should probably stay behind with Y/N, so we can check if it's safe.” Xavier says just as you open your eyes, seeing the small building.

“I don't think it's a house though,” Cherry comments, squinting her eyes. “Is that a gas station? Look, there's a road too!”

“I don't think it is,” Yoongi wonders, “I think it's one of those establishments in the middle of nowhere. Maybe some kind of diner?”

“Could be,” Bruno agrees. “Xav is right. Stay here with Y/N just in case.”

“You can take her, I can go and che–”

“Yoongi,” Bruno stops him. “It's okay.”

The said man sighs in defeat and nods, leaving the three of them to continue to walk toward the building in the distance. Opening your eyes again, you shiver in Yoongi's arms as his gaze drops down on you, noticing you're awake again. He doesn't say anything though, doesn't explain things as he looks in the distance and watches his people approach the building.

“You can put me down.” You would widen your eyes from how scratchy your voice sounds if you weren't feeling like shit. Even Yoongi glances back at you with raised brows.

“Yeah, right.” he scoffs merely.

“Yoongi.” You try to sound stern, yet it comes out weak which only proves his point.

“And see you crawling to that place? I won't be wasting any more time because of you.”

But that's exactly what you're about to do, you want to say. For all you know, they could leave you there so they don't feel bad as they would if they left you in the woods. Truthfully, you're not sure if they would be capable of that. Maybe Cherry would be. If it were up to her, you wouldn't be here with them. You would be dead by now for sure. Either way, knowing them some more, you don't think they would just leave you here. At least not Xavier and Bruno. You're not sure about Yoongi though.

You keep quiet, not in the mood to bark back and at the end of the day, you should be thankful he's still carrying you – has been for hours – because you're not in the state to walk. You would get nowhere in this state. And you're thankful.

Suddenly, Yoongi starts to move and walk toward the building. You haven't noticed the way his friends got out of it and waved him over with relieved and happy grins, silently telling him it's safe. Though, you've felt the way Yoongi's body relaxed for a second. Relief.

“It's completely empty,” Cherry informs Yoongi, holding the door for him as Xavier is already inside. “Looks like it used to be some sort of a coffee shop. There are stairs that lead to the second floor, it's a one room tiny apartment. Looks like the owner was living here too.” She fills him up with information, smelling the coffee beans from one of the jars.

“I would kill for a cup of coffee.” Bruno whines a little when Cherry angles the jar to him to have a sniff.

Of course, the electricity doesn't work anymore. Which you don't need right now but it could come useful when the nighttime falls. Yoongi makes his way upstairs along with Bruno while Xavier and Cherry stay downstairs, checking the place out some more. You hear them chuckling, but it's all distant when you make it upstairs as Bruno brushes past Yoongi to help him open the door. The staircase is quite narrow, only walls accompanying it with no railing whatsoever which makes it tough, especially when you're still in Yoongi's arms.

In the end they manage, stepping over the doorstep.

When they look around, they find the apartment really tiny because it is one room indeed. A small bed right there with a tiny kitchen. There's a wooden nightstand next to the bed and other furniture. The walls are in plain color and despite the dust coats the furniture, this place seems to not be in a bad state at all. They've seen worse for sure. There's only one door and it surely leads to a bathroom.

“Did you check that room too?” Yoongi still asks Bruno just in case.

“Yeah, it's a bathroom.” Bruno answers, confirming his thoughts because what else would be there?

You register Yoongi putting you down onto something soft, enough to make you fully awake as you spot his face in front of you before he straightens up. Bruno sits beside your lying figure, checking your temperature again.

“How are you feeling?”

All you can muster is a raise of your brow which makes him chuckle a little.

“I know, sorry.” he apologizes before turning to Yoongi who's looking around the place while saying in the same spot, turning with his back to you. “She's still burning up, Yoongs. She needs meds.”

“What could it be?”

“I don't know. Anything,” Bruno answers truthfully. You're reminded of his past. He was supposed to be a doctor. Would be if the world hadn't turned shit. “Flu, maybe even inflammation. I'm guessing she needs antibiotics, asap.”

Yoongi rubs his face frustratedly, staring at the ceiling and spotting a few spider webs.

“What am I supposed to do?” Yoongi mutters to Bruno, something that isn't for your ears anyway. You do hear him though.

“I'm just telling you. She can't continue in this shape.” Bruno states the obvious which makes Yoongi scoff because of course he knew that. “We need to break the fever.”

“And how are you planning on doing that?”

“First of all, she needs to stay hydrated and she needs rest. But that won't break the fever. A cold shower would be the best, but I'm sure the water isn't working either. Meds are the only thing that are the most reliable though.”

“Fuck,” Yoongi sighs, leaning his head back.

“Xav, Cher! Bring me my backpack!” Bruno yells, hoping for the two to hear them. You flinch at his sudden loud voice and he silently apologizes.

You hear footsteps until they're upstairs in the room, bringing Bruno his backpack. He starts rummaging through it and hands you an unopened bottle of water.

“Oh look, the princess is sleeping.” Cherry remarks, sounding almost evil when she sees your awful state. Your hair is sweaty and so is your skin. You look like a mess and you don't even need a mirror for that.

Xavier sighs beside her but keeps his mouth shut, probably too tired to argue with Cherry. Bruno gives her an unappreciative look while Yoongi just pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Cher, cut it off.” he mutters under his breath.

“Why?” she teases, “We're stuck here because of her, aren't we?”

“Here we go again.” Xavier whispers, shaking his head as Yoongi glares at her.

“We're quite aware, Cherry. No need to point that out every fucking second.”

Even Yoongi sounds annoyed by Cherry's constant jabs. It definitely doesn't help the situation, not when no solution was made. Bruno gives you an apologetic smile and motions for you to lift up yourself.

You are resting on your shaky elbows as you take the bottle from him. “It's sparkling water. Probably a pure hell for your sore throat, but you need to drink.”

“How do you know I have a sore throat?” you ask. Well, it is quite a common symptom when having a cold or flu, but still, you never mentioned it to him.

“Your voice is scratchy, you try to swallow often to prevent yourself from the pain and you make a painful grimace every time you do it.” he informs you with a teasing smile. He's good. Attentive.

You drink the sparkling water, cringing when it hits your throat but Bruno encourages you to keep drinking. You haven't drank for hours now, you're sure none of you have.

When you're done, leaving only a small amount inside, Bruno sets it on the nightstand and tells you to lay back down to have some rest. Meanwhile Xavier finds a thin blanket in the dark wooden dresser as he covers your body with it.

“There's a town nearby. We saw some buildings from the hill. It's worth trying.”

“Trying for what?” Cherry asks Bruno, narrowing her sharp eyes at him as he sighs.

“To find some medication for Y/N–”

“You can't be serious! I'm not gonna risk my life because of her! We need to get to Johnny, Taehyung, Zoya!”

“You're free to stay here, Cher.” Bruno remarks, causing her to fume as she crosses her arms over her chest like a child. “Besides, we need some food too. I don't know about Yoongi and Y/N, but we're almost out of food and water. We would have to stop by and find something eventually either way. And along the way we can find and bring meds to Y/N. We should have some in our backpacks anyway, this could've happened to any of us. Still can. We need to be prepared.”

“Ben's right,” Yoongi agrees much to Cherry's annoyance. “I'm not happy about this, but we need food.”

“We'll go.” Bruno stands up.

“But we just found each other.” Yoongi protests, knowing someone has to go. “I'll go.”

“What difference does it make?” Bruno questions him.

“I can't let you risk your lives.”

“I can go with Yoongi.” Wasn't she against going at all? “What? He can't go alone.”

“Someone has to stay with Y/N. I think Yoongi should stay.”

“What? Why?” Cherry reacts straight away.

“Because he's the strongest and if only one can stay here with Y/N, it should be him. She's safest with him and Yoongi,” he calls out to Yoongi, who makes the man look at him. “You know it's better to go and look for stuff in a group. Preferably as big as possible, it makes things easier and safer.”

He knows because they've experienced it together. He taught them that.

“Xav can stay behind–but me and Cher could–”

“No, I'm going too. I wanna help.” Xavier butts in, whining a little in the process.

“There's no need for more people to stay here. It looks safe here but you never know.” Bruno talks straight to Yoongi who seems to be in thought. In the end, he makes a weak nod.

“I don't like this,” He makes sure his group knows it. “I don't want you guys to risk lives with me being stuck here.”

“So come with us.” Cherry makes it sound so easy, too easy that it makes Bruno scoff under his breath at her ignorance toward you. “Since when do you care for her?”

“I don't,” Yoongi snaps, growing tired of Cherry's behavior as he makes it known by giving her a sharp look. “But someone has to stay here with her. And I won't let one of you stay here. What if another group comes here and threatens you? What if they hurt one of you? What if they kill you?”

“Risks are everywhere, Yoongi and you know that. Whether someone stays here or goes to the town, any of us can get killed.”

That's no news.

“Cherry, I get your point but didn't you hear everything I said before?” Bruno deadpans which leaves Xavier to snort under his breath. That earns him a glare from her but he innocently shrugs while Yoongi rolls his eyes.

“Fine. But I'm only doing this so we can get the food and what we need.”

“Yes, we gathered that. We're aware.” Xavier mutters which earns him another glare.

“When are we leaving?”

“Now,” Bruno runs fingers through his hair as he sighs. “We should leave now while it's bright. Preferably find the closest store and come back. If we don't make it till the nighttime, we should find somewhere to stay and wait until the morning. Then we come back.”

“What about Y/N? Is she gonna make it without meds?” Xavier voices out his concern as the group looks at you, a shaky breath leaving past your dry lips as you clutch onto the blanket.

“She's gonna have to.” Bruno says softly under his breath. “Don't worry, kid. She's not dying.” he assures him as he passes him, gently squeezing his shoulder as he sighs.

“Alright, let's go.” Cherry prompts, checking the knives in one of her boots and pants.

“Be careful, guys.” Yoongi tells them, following them down the stairs.

“It seems like the door can be locked. Lock yourselves, Yoongi. If it's us, we're gonna knock.” Bruno tells him.

Yoongi only nods, staring at Xavier. “Be careful, kid.”

“Hyung,” Xavier whines.

“Alright, alright,” The man chuckles. “Stay alive.”

“Of course.” he assures him.

“Yoongs,” Bruno catches Yoongi's attention again. “Y/N. I don't know about the water, but if it's working–you need to break her fever at least that way.”

“Why didn't we do that? We should help her.” Bruno hears Xavier behind him as Cherry snorts loudly.

“Are you offering?” she teases him, which makes the youngest frown at her.

“If it's needed then yes.”

“One look at bare tits and you're gonna pop up boner,” she continues to tease him as Xavier clenches his jaw. “Besides, you're going with us.”

“Stop provoking him, Cherry,” Yoongi mutters, “Okay, I'll see what I can do.” he says to Bruno who nods.

“We'll be back. Don't worry.” he assures him, giving him a hug as the two men slap each other's backs.

Xavier goes to hug his hyung too, the hug lingering for a moment longer as Xavier shoots him a confident grin. He's always been confident, not showing his fears. It's evident Yoongi is scared for Xavier's life. He saved him and he's just a kid. He has learned to fight thanks to him, spent hours teaching him how to fight and kill undeads. All he can manage is to give him a weak smile back.

Cherry comes up to Yoongi with a little smirk, looking confident in a different way as her red hair is up in a high ponytail. She doesn't hug him like the rest, though she rests her lips against his cheek as she pulls away with a smirk.

They share a look before Yoongi looks at all of them. “Be safe.”

“You too.”

And just like that, they're out of the door. Yoongi locks the door, making his way upstairs where he finds you in the same position. He goes to check the bathroom, finding it small as fuck but it's not like he expected it to be the other way. This whole building is tiny and he wonders if this establishment was doing good, considering it's almost in the middle of nowhere and looks very… modest.

He turns a tap on, a weird sound resounding in the small room until shockingly, water starts to drip down. It's cold, but it's water. He's close to chuckling in disbelief. This place has to have its own water system. He thought that could be the case, considering it's not really a part of town but anything is possible.

He turns off the water, going back to the room. You weakly open your eyes and turn your head to look at him when you hear the sound of his boots squeaking against the wooden floor. You look around, trying to see the others just to find an empty room.

“It's just the two of us again, dove.” Yoongi informs you. “Care for a shower?” he smirks.

“No.”

Protesting weakly as soon as Yoongi tries to make you stand, he ignores your complaints as he finally hoists you up. Arm around your wait, he holds you to his side.

“Yes. Bruno said to break your fever.”

He only informed you of the others whereabouts. You'd laugh at the universe for leaving you with Yoongi again. He seems to ignore your constant protests and complains as he gets you to a tiny bathroom you've never seen before.

“The water works, I don't know for how long, so you need to be quick.”

There's a bathtub that looks kind of high, you're not sure you'll be able to get inside on your own and seeing Yoongi, you start to protest even more.

“Listen dove,” he holds you when you stumble, causing you to stare at him perplexed. “I'd rather do other things than getting you into a shower. You have a fever that needs to be broken, you're all sweaty and you stink.”

You glare at him but he doesn't seem to care about any of that.

“I'll leave you to it if you manage on your own,” You both doubt you would. “Or I'll keep my eyes closed. Trust me, I'm not too keen on seeing you naked.”

You're anything but attractive right now, you're aware of it. Amongst the other issues you're facing on a daily basis, you're also sick and looking like shit.

“It's going to help you.” he says in the end, making sure you stare into his eyes as nothing but honesty – and maybe a little annoyance – seeps through them. “But fine. Do what you want.” he says, his hands no longer touching you as he gets them off as if you just burned him.

You stumble, catching yourself on the white ceramic sink as he walks away. He even shuts the door. Cursing is on the tip of your tongue but the sickness you're experiencing blocks it. You're close to crying. From frustration and because of how bad you feel. Your headache is so strong that you feel like dying. Maybe that's a bit dramatic, but it definitely feels like it. You haven't eaten anything in the last twenty-four hours and yet your stomach feels like it can't get anything inside it, or else you're going to puke.

You start undressing yourself, giving a glance to the towel Yoongi has found in the drawers. It's for the better that you don't think how long it's been in that drawer and how many mites it might have. With the universe's help, you somehow manage to undress yourself to full nudity and get yourself to the bathtub. You turn on the water just as you sit down, whimpering when the freezing water touches your skin.

You notice a small and used bar of soap at the edge of the bathtub, but you don't reach for it and clean yourself like you would if you were healthy. You feel like fainting and the freezing water hitting your hot skin makes you shiver. Everything downs on you and before you know it, your tears slide down your cheeks and get mixed with the water.

“You okay in there?” Yoongi asks through the door.

You're not sure what you yell in return, or what you try to yell with your weak voice. Reaching for the soap and almost gagging at the single hair stuck on it, you get it off before you start cleaning yourself. Not even the freshness makes you feel better. And when you try to get onto your legs to clean them too, you slip and catch yourself just in time. But not in time to prevent the awkward squeak your feet make and the yelp that leaves your mouth.

The door is pushed open before you can cover yourself. “I'm not looking.” Yoongi informs you right away with a palm covering his eyes.

“I'm okay.” you assure him quietly, turning off the water once the soap is off your body.

You're shivering, asking Yoongi to hand you the towel as your arms are doing a poor job to hide your boobs and naked pussy. Thankfully, Yoongi has kept his promise and he's not indeed looking. He hands you the towel where he thinks you'll reach. You do, thanking him and immediately hugging the material around you, completely forgetting about mites or even the smell. You don't smell anything, so you guess the towel was really clean. It might miss the freshness of a fabric softener, but it's better than if it stunk.

“I'm–decent.” you tell him, watching him slowly take his hand off.

He watches you standing in the bathtub, shivering as a scared puppy. “You need help to get out of there?”

Your head continues to throb and your body grows weaker, you can feel it and that's why you nod, followed by a soft; “Please.”

You bite back any surprised squeal when he wraps his arm around your waist, while the other goes under your knees just like before. He hoists you into his arms in one swift movement, holding you a bridal style as he gets you out of the tiny bathroom. He sets you onto the bed, smirking when he sees you clutching the towel to your body.

“Get under the blanket,” he says, “I'm gonna take a shower too.”

He brushes his hand through his thick and long hair to get it off his face, showing you his sharp jawline for a split second as he turns around and goes to take a quick shower. You listen to him, getting under the blanket as you keep shivering, clutching the cheap material. You close your eyes, listening to water dripping down until it stops and Yoongi comes out in a pair of boxers. Wait–what?!

He tosses his clothes to the side, rummaging through the drawers in a curiosity and maybe a hope to find something.

You suddenly get a flashback of the time back at the lake, where all you saw was Yoongi's exposed back. But now, the man is practically naked in front of you and he seems completely unfazed. He hasn't even checked if you're awake or looking!

You sound like a pervert, but you catch the toned stomach of his and board shoulders. He looks more lean now than underneath all those clothes. Mentally shaking your head at yourself, you close your eyes again and keep them like that until you hear him groan as he shuts the drawer.

Yoongi finds you staring, “What?”

He fully turns around, showing you his toned stomach again along with his fully naked and clean chest. It's not only his lack of clothing that catches your attention, but it's the happy little trail that slowly disappears under his black boxers. And fuck! There's an evident softened bulge inside his underwear and you have a hard time believing that thing is soft. Your shock must've been evident because Yoongi makes a noise, something that's very close to amusement. He's smirking when you quickly look him in the eyes.

“Never seen a topless man?”

You clear your throat, swallowing the hurtful lump as you find yourself saying; “You're more than a topless man.”

“You've never seen more than a topless man then?”

He's so annoying. Despite your state, he's enjoying the silence and has the audacity to laugh at this bizarre conversation. You're not in the mood for him to make fun of you. Besides, you are quite embarrassed to be caught ogling him. You're sick for fuck sake!. Sick, but not blind, your conscience whispers.

“Are you planning to stay naked?”

He chuckles, close to asking Is this naked? But he doesn't. “Says the woman who's wearing only her towel underneath all that.”

“I'm sick. What's your excuse?”

He lifts the corner of his lips, “I don't need an excuse. But if you must know, it's freaking hot in here and my clothes are dirty as fuck.”

Now that he thinks about it, he could wash his clothes with the soap he used in the bathroom. At least it's something. It might not make it completely clean but at least it can get rid of something and the smell. They stink of soil and dirt.

“I'm going downstairs to check things.”

That makes your head lift up and Yoongi is met with concern all over your face.

“Relax. The door is locked and we're alone here.”

That seems to make you relax as you give him a soft nod. Not that Yoongi cares as he puts his pants on along with his boots. He remains topless, not forgetting to grab his gun and knife too just in case before he makes it downstairs.

You continue to shiver, left alone as the silence slowly lulls you to another useless sleep.

Yoongi's neck is crooked backwards as he sits on an old stool with eyes fully closed and mouth agape. His hair naturally follows the direction of his leaned head, the position making even you cringe from the evident discomfort. You barely remember anything since you fell asleep, the towel still wrapped around your body though more messily, and Yoongi going downstairs is the pinpoint memory you vividly remember.

You're not aware of how many times you've gently opened your eyes and then closed them right after. The room swallowed in a complete darkness as the night casted upon the sky, while the others haven't come back. The sickness is not any better, your throat seems and feels like a death amongst the still ongoing fever. At least you've managed to get some sleep during the night.

Looking at the leader, it can't be said the same thing for him. Despite his obvious good health and condition, he's surely about to wake up with a massive muscle ache.

Sitting up, you adjust the towel around your body before you clutch it to your clean skin. The blanket follows and you almost hide all traces of your exposed skin. The air is hot and dust can be seen flying in the air as the sun shines through the small, dusty window. Yoongi's wearing his clothes, his shirt too. You wonder why since he talked about its dirtiness yesterday. That much you can remember.

Your nose tickles and just as you rub it, a loud sneeze rips out of your throat and fills the silent room. Yoongi's sleep is interrupted and his neck cracks how fast he moves, a painful grimace scrunching his entire face as his hand rubs the back of his neck. But still, he looks alarmed as he looks around just to find you across the room, staring at him with apologetic eyes.

“Fucking hell, dove.” he curses under his breath, resting his elbow on his knee as the arms stay rested between his legs, while the other goes to rub his neck again.

“Sorry.”

Your apology is ignored but you don't take it to heart. He seems already uncomfortable as he is, which would explain his lack of response. Or maybe he just wants to ignore you. It's Yoongi after all.

Looking around, you find the bottle that Ben gave you completely empty. You've drank from it during the night but you were so out of it that you don't remember any of it.

Yoongi stands up, stretches his arms before looking out of the window. He watches the view for a while until he gives up and turns around with a sight. No sight of others. He needs to keep a cool head. You're clueless about him finding a jar of, possibly good coffee because it surely couldn't run bad after a few months, and mixed it with his last remaining water. It's the only thing that got him through the night. But even in the end, his body gave up and he fell asleep. On a fucking stool that has made his neck and back feel like on fire.

“We've had a few protein and chocolate bars in our backpacks. I gathered all of them,” he says without looking at you, pointing at the top of the dresser. “I don't know when the others are coming back,” he stops for a second, “But this is all we have. You should eat something.”

He hopes they will come back. It's the main priority at the moment. But he also fucking hopes they'll bring more food. A few sweetened bars won't guarantee anyone's daily intake of nutritions. He's starting to get thin. All of you do. His muscles are slowly gone and he can barely do push-ups like he used to, because there's nothing much to do if you're not trying to search for more food or shelter or killing undeads. If he's going to put energy into working out and making himself stronger physically, he also needs to eat more. Which he had to stop doing because then he would end up even more hungry than usual.

The apocalypse affects every single thing. Nothing is normal anymore. This is the new normal.

He walks up to a dresser and opens one of the protein bars, slowly munching on it to savor the taste. Sitting on the bed, you lean your back against the wall and watch him until he grabs one of the other bars and tosses it into your lap. “Eat.”

Arching your brow at the demanding tone, you pull your hands under the blanket and slowly start unwrapping the vanilla flavored protein bar. God, you've eaten so many of those. You don't know what real food tastes like anymore.

“Are you still having a fever?” he asks, resting his elbow against the dresser as he leans against the piece of furniture.

You shrug your shoulders which makes him roll his eyes. After he's done eating, he walks up to you with confident and sharp steps before he's pressing his palm against your forehead. It causes your head to bump against the wall because you didn't expect him to approach you like this, let alone to touch you and be so careless about it.

He ignores your groan just like your glare, looking ahead as he hums. “You still have one.”

That explains the headache and everything that comes with it.

“What are we going to do?” you ask quietly, your throat feeling like there are thousands of razors inside it.

Yoongi sighs, straightening as he tosses the empty wrap to the floor. “Wait.”

There's nothing much you two can do. Especially you in your state. You stay in the bed, curled up while you contemplate whether you want to throw up the only food you've got in your stomach or not. You're even weaker than in the morning, even moving your legs a tiny bit hurts like hell. Your whole body aches. Are you dying? So desperate and helpless that you've asked yourself this question too many times.

That's until there's a knock on the door downstairs. Yoongi springs out of the stool, the stairs creaking under his heavy black boots until you hear chattering. You're sure there's a laughter of joy and triumph. Or maybe you're already hallucinating. It surely feels like it.

One moment you hear them and the next, there's Ben hovering over the bed. His mouth opens but you can barely tell what he's saying.

“This is not looking well,” Bruno comments, just as Cherry informs Yoongi about their quick journey. “Look what I got for you.” He sounds happy and you want to smile, but it seems like the hardest task.

“What…” you whisper, “What is it?”

“Your key to being healthy again.”

While Bruno helps you to swallow some pills, you're close to vomit them but he practically has his palm over your mouth, forcing you to swallow them down. You know it's only for your good. The meds he's trying to get to you is your only solution like he said. You can't waste them.

“I know, I know.” he says, looking away apologetically as you whine but force yourself to swallow them with water in your mouth.

“We've found only a little of these,” Cherry fills up Yoongi as she and Xavier empty their backpacks.

Yoongi is met with a few cans of beans, old crackers and… lollipops? There are a few cans of coke and flavored soda. But it's not much. It will have to do.

“But,” Cherry starts. “We saw another store across the building. It was surrounded by dozens of undeads, we wanted to go there but we already had our stuff and well…”

“Bruno said we need to hurry to take the meds to Y/N. The space around the store was surrounded by undeads anyway… we had to act quickly. But hyung–”

“We can go back.” Bruno finishes.

The room is silent, minus your heavy breathing coming from across the door while the leader looks at each of them. “No.”

“Yoongi–”

“No. You said the store is surrounded by undeads.”

“We can take them.” Xavier sounds sure.

“Yeah, sure. We're not gonna risk that.” The leader disagrees and leaves the youngest frowning.

“We can take them, Yoongi. The store seemed to be untouched.”

“And what if there are undeads inside? You don't know what's hiding behind those walls and a door. Anything could be there.” Yoongi's voice is stern, not liking this idea even if he knows what they've brought is not going to last long. Eventually, they would have to stop and search for more again.

And maybe they won't be lucky enough next time to find an abandoned small town with only a few undeads there. He knows this is a good opportunity. He can't risk them going again.

“We mapped out the streets and the way there. We know exactly how to get there.” Cherry sounds persistent, pushing the leader knowing this is what they should do. Even Yoongi knows it. But sometimes even he needs a little push.

He is the brain of everything. He often chooses to think with his head rather than a heart. But with losing Zoya, Taehyung and Johnny, this doesn't feel good. It never does.

“Yoongi, she has the meds. She's gonna feel better soon. Meanwhile she needs her rest and for the meds to work, we can grab more food and gain more strength. I know we're rushing to the center, but you said it yourself, we need a break. This is a good shelter for now, we can't stay here for long but long enough for us to bring more food, eat and then continue on our journey.”

Yoongi walks away, making his way to the window as he leans against the frame. Palms over the dark wood and head hung low, he groans before straightening. “When do you want to leave?”

“As soon as possible.” Bruno answers.

“We got to eat something in the store. We spent the night there just like we told you.”

It's only now that you notice the traces of blood on their clothes.

“I also found this.” Cherry says, pulling something out of her backpack.

Yoongi's met with toothbrushes, a hairbrush, hair ties and… razors?

“What? They're essentials!” she exclaims once she sees Yoongi's raised brow. Bruno and Xavier laughs and the moment between the group doesn't suddenly seem to be so serious.

She stops just as she's about to brush past Yoongi, her plump lips stretching to a confident smile as her finger traces his bottom lip. “You could use shaving.”

Xavier gags in the distance as Yoongi simply watches Cherry to back off with a smirk. She grabs something off the table and just as Bruno starts talking to Yoongi about their next plan, none of them pay her attention.

You watch her approaching the bed where you're lying, an amused smirk on her face. It's as if she's enjoying how awful you look. And your suffering.

But then she does something surprising, crouches beside the bed as she tosses the new toothbrush and a man's razor next to you. “You could surely use some of this too.”

You gulp, shock evident on your face. “Thank you.”

“This is heaven for women these days.” And she's not wrong.

She seems to be in a good mood, standing up and no longer paying you any attention as she joins the rest of the group. While the meds start to kick in and slowly lull you back to sleep, the last thing you hear is.

“Handsome, you said the water is working, right? Fuck, I need a shower.”

The three of them leave the first thing in the morning. There are no hugs and emotional goodbyes because all of them hope they'll see each other again. Xavier's shoulder is squeezed by Yoongi as the youngest gives him an encouraging smile.

Minutes before sunrise, Bruno went to your room and informed you about the meds dosage. Just to be sure, he also informed Yoongi who frowned the entire time, unmistakably found it bothersome that he's once again left behind to take care of you.

“Don't worry, you'll feel better each day when taking the meds.” It was the last sentence Bruno told you before he went downstairs, ready to join the group on their next journey.

Once they leave the air is… dry and empty. Yoongi busies himself by wandering around the house. Maybe he doesn't want to be in your presence as you keep sleeping throughout the entire day.

He still grumbles in the evening, shaking you awake to take your meds. You would've forgotten if it weren't for him. Though you don't say it out loud, you both know it.

Two days have passed and none of them have returned. It's affecting Yoongi and though he barely speaks, you see his nerves are on the edge. You also feel better. Bruno was right.

Your energy is back – at least some amount is. Bed is abandoned during the day and you keep yourself awake. There's nothing much to do though. Yoongi has been taking walks around the building. It clears his mind and keeps him occupied.

Something you get inspired to do too as the fresh air fills your lungs. While Yoongi stands outside, leaning against the building as his sharp eyes watch you, you do mindless circles around the entire building. There's zero communication. Not until you decide to break it in the middle of the day.

“Teach me how to fight again.”

Yoongi looks in your direction, no particular expression decorating his face until he lets out a mere scoff.

“What?” you question with an attitude. “You wanted me to get better at it.”

“In order for you to get better at something, you actually have to know how to do it.”

Pressing your lips together, irritation stings in your chest as you glare the hell out of him. “What's there to do anyway?”

For the past two days, you've been feeling well. Well enough to do some activity rather than do a mindless walk, constantly looking over your shoulder to make sure there is no threat. And you're not only feeling well because you've showered and used the razor Cherry so kindly gave you. Maybe she's not your number one fan – which can't be said about you when it comes to her – but you felt like dropping to your knees for her the moment you used it. You felt like a human again. For a moment, you felt more comfortable and clean in your own body, acting as if you're in your bathroom back home and doing your nightly routine.

Even when the water was freezing and you were shivering the entire time.

You're sitting on the bed, staring at Yoongi from across the room as his typical frowning expression stares right back at you.

“You're still on meds.” he points out the obvious.

Your reaction comes automatically. “Aw, are you worried about me?”

“Get up.” he spits out.

You don't give him the satisfaction of seeing you flinch, settling on a pleased smile instead.

This time, Yoongi settles onto not using knives but besides that, it's pretty much similar to the first time he tried to teach you how to fight. Your body is stronger, still not strong enough but you try your best to show off your skills. A lack of them but you're still trying. That counts, right?

Yoongi wins every single time. Not that's much of a surprise. Again, he reminds you of your advantages against the undeads.

“It's better for you to learn how to fight humans too. You don't know who you might come into contact with.”

The raw truth rings in your ears throughout the entire session – or whatever you would call it. Yoongi is rough, his voice cold but continues to give you key points.

“You're weak.” he says sternly, motioning that you would be killed by now because of your wrong move.

“At least I'm trying, no?” you question, swallowing down the irritation from his coldness.

You continue, trying to surprise him with a quick attack but before you can even get close to him, Yoongi wraps his hand around your wrist and pulls you to him. His other hand motions to your neck where he could easily stab you.

“You're fucking weak.”

You're not sure if he means it currently or overall. Though compliments are surely not expected from the tough man, the words sting. Your face fails you and you frown, making sure he sees the glare you're shooting in his direction. He's nowhere near tired like you, leaving only you panting as his hold on your wrist doesn't leave.

Being in this position makes you realize how close you're to him. The faint stable that was there just a few days ago is gone. He smells like the cheap soap that's left in the bathroom. There's a tiny mole on his cheek, once you've failed to notice before. Realizing you're studying his features up close, you swallow and quickly look at him, hoping he hasn't seen it. But he has. His eyes are set on you, a slow frown making it on his face again before he pushes you off him.

You stumble, stabilizing yourself just at the right time as you glare at him. He ignores it, huffing as he sits under the window, leaning against the old wall.

Caressing your wrist, you sigh at the silence again as he seems to give up. You don't push him to continue though. You're starting to feel in your body that excessive exercise is taking its toll on you.

Before you talk yourself out of it, you make your way toward him and sit just beside him. You ignore the side-eye he gives you as you wipe the dust off your pants. Sighing, you lean your head against the hard wall.

“How did you learn how to fight?” you ask.

“Experience.” he answers dryly, no longer looking at you.

You scoff. “Wow, shocking.” you mutter.

“We're not friends.” he reminds you.

“I'm not trying to be your friend,” Don't flatter yourself, you think. “I'm just trying to be friendly.”

“Don't be friendly then. I don't need you to be friendly.”

What an asshole!

“We're stuck here alone, not communicating. I don't know about you, but the silence is driving me crazy. Not to mention it's not healthy.”

“I'm fine.”

You huff out loud, shaking your head at him. Dropping gaze down to your nails – nails you're biting because there's nothing you could cut them with – you play with them. You were never a girl to have a perfect manicure but damn… the sight of your nails pains you.

You glance at Yoongi, seeing his head leaned with his eyes closed. One leg outstretched while the other is folded where he lets his elbow rest. You watch his veiny hands, quickly looking away before you could get caught by Yoongi's dark and sharp eyes. Busted is what you don't want to be at the moment. Certainly not by the devil himself.

But being here alone, stuck with Yoongi more times than you were with others, makes you miss the social part of life. Sure, things are different now. But even with a human like Yoongi, you miss having a normal conversation.

“When the virus spread and no one knew what it really was, I was jobless and in a city where I knew no one. I felt so lost, many people lost their jobs because of the virus, me included. That was a really dark time for anyone. But when I saw the news, people turned into these monsters… I never thought it could get darker than that.”

“I don't care.” Yoongi grumbles.

Pressing your lips together, you gather yourself before taking a breath. “And then people in my building started turning into undeads. I heard the growls and screams through the walls… It was the most terrific sound I've ever heard.”

Yoongi says he doesn't care, but he still sits on the same spot and doesn't move an inch.

“Anyway, as you know and could tell… I didn't have the courage to open the door. I don't think I would if I wasn't out of food.”

Giving him yet another glance, you find his eyes open as he rubs his point finger and thumb together to maybe distract himself.

“You would run out of food at some point.” he comments under his breath.

Hiding the tiny smirk, you nod in agreement. “Yeah. But I hoped I would withstand it for a little bit longer than that.”

He snickers, “You're lucky to be alive.”

And that you know.

“What… What was your first experience with undead?”

Yoongi stays silent, not that's a shock either. Just when you think he's not going to respond and damage your ego like he's been doing ever since you met him, he licks his lips and stops his fingers from rubbing.

“It was actually a couple of them.”

“Oh.”

He sighs, “I was at the police station. We had a training field behind the building. The station was connected with a training center and I was just about to train some kids.”

You only hum.

“The outside field was fenced,” He closes his eyes gently again, as if he's visualizing the memory. “I was in the middle of training when I heard growls, people screaming and a lot of blood. Everyone panicked and started running. Some of the undeads were trying to get to us, but the fence held them off. I…” he sighs.

“I tried to get their attention so the rest of us could escape. I've managed to escape too, but before I could return to the police station, undeads my–my coworkers were coming out of there. They were bitten, some of them screaming for help.”

Your experience is different. While you were in the safety of your home, Yoongi was out there, seeing it for the first time with his own eyes. What you've seen on television, reporters yelling for people to find a shelter or stay home while they could.

That was the last time television was still going.

“You were an officer?”

You don't know why you sound so surprised. Now that you think about it, it shouldn't be so surprising at all. But knowing him like this… you've never thought Yoongi before this was a police officer.

“Surprised?” he chuckles.

“No,” you answer automatically, shaking your head. “I mean… I was just a second ago but… it makes sense?” you question.

Yoongi looks at you, eyes telling you to elaborate without even saying anything. You already know that look.

“Well… you're the leader. You're brave, know how to fight, you own a gun–”

“Anyone can own a gun now.”

You frown as you ignore him. “You also weigh the consequences, you're the most logical out of everyone, you consider other alternatives before making a proper decision. And… you've got this dominance inside you which I guess naturally makes people follow you. Among other things.”

Yoongi looks at you, head leaned as a lazy smirk makes it on his lips as he cocks a brow at you.

“You're still an idiot though.” you shrug, a silent snicker escaping his mouth.

“This idiot has saved your life… a couple of times.”

“As you never fail to remind me.” you react right away. “Either way… aren't most officers assholes?”

“What were you doing as a job?”

“Worked at a daycare.”

“You shouldn't be judging anyone then.”

“Hey!” you exclaim, offended but your lips twitch when you notice Yoongi's faint smirk.

“I never wanted to be an officer, actually.”

“No?” you don't feign shock. “So why were you?”

“My dad was one too. He wanted me to follow his path. Not because of some selfish reasons of his own, but because I was always interested in his work. We trained together. He used to bring me to the shooting range, mom wasn't happy about it.”

“As she shouldn't.”

Yoongi just glares, making you shut your mouth.

This is rare. Yoongi talking. Let alone about his personal life which makes you listen to him attentively.

“As a kid I wanted to be like him. But as I was growing, I didn't exactly know what I wanted to do. Before I knew it I was in a police academy. Done my military service as soon as possible. I don't know… when I got the job, it felt like it was meant for me to do. I suddenly felt like the little kid whose dream just came true.”

“That's cute.”

He glares again.

“Doesn't matter anymore,” he mutters, getting to his feet. “None of it.”

And he walks away, leaving you all alone on the dusty floor with thoughts running wild.

When the nighttime falls and Yoongi is forced to come back, you're already lying in the bed fully awake. You haven't been nearly as productive as Yoongi today. After the awfully personal conversation (though it could be considered as a casual conversation between two people stuck in an apocalypse) you've caught him running laps around the building. Perhaps he's upset with himself for opening up to you. You're not his favorite person – he's not yours either. But you don't mind sharing a part of your life before all of this with him. Maybe it's because you secretly crave understanding and empathy. Something that might never come when it comes to Yoongi. Not with you anyway.

The floor creaks beneath his bulky boots, surely worn out like any article of clothing both of you currently wear. He doesn't make any sound, though you doubt it's because of his previously mentioned (and impossible) empathy of you possibly sleeping. Regardless, he's quiet as he sits down on the chair where he has been falling asleep since you arrived here, preparing for tonight's sleep.

Yoongi might lack empathy when it comes to you, but you surely can't shake the annoying feeling of it at the thought of him sleeping there another night. You could switch with him. But the thought of trying to sleep on that freaking chair already makes your body ache. You've been feeling better and maybe you could sacrifice yourself tonight.

Now that you think of it – maybe he's empathic after all. He's been letting you sleep in a bed – even though you've been sick and unable to even sit – but still. He has chosen to sleep on the chair and you mentally gasp at the whole realization. You're stupid for not thinking of it earlier.

You turn to the right side, seeing a perfect view of his shadow and the shape of his body. The blanket and pillow rustles by the movement and you lick your lips to prepare yourself.

Why are you suddenly so… nervous?

Your heart's beating too fast.

Yoongi's possible reaction might be the cause of it.

“Yoongi?”

A beat of silence before…

“Hm?”

He sounds both annoyed and tired. You don't see him but you could easily imagine his eyes closed, barely paying you any attention. The second part you don't have to imagine at all.

You fumble with your fingers, pinching your forefinger in the end. “You should sleep in this bed.”

If your suggestion catches him off guard, you wouldn't know because of the following silence.

“I mean… It's big enough for the two of us. I'll just scooch to the side. The chair is surely uncomfortable.”

Why is this so awkward? Your whole face is heating up.

Not knowing what Yoongi's expression is right now makes it worse. Or possibly better. You don't know what's worse! And the silence is killing you.

“You want us to share a bed?”

You can't pinpoint the tone he asks with. Did he just deadpan? Did he just ask it with a subtle sarcastic tone? Or was it just a simple question?

“Or we could just switch. I'll take the chair.” You sit up as you quickly add, mentally calling yourself for stupid to even consider you two sharing a bed. It's not like you want to! You were just trying to be nice and considerate.

You've noticed the lack of sleep on his face. Not mentioning the visible dark bags under his eyes. He's not your favorite person in this world – even in the middle of the zombie apocalypse – but you're not an asshole.

“You wouldn't be able to sleep here for five minutes.” Yoongi chuckles mockingly.

That could be the truth but you're more than willing to prove him wrong. Even if you wouldn't be able to fall into a deep slumber. Or any at this point.

“Doesn't matter,” you mutter, sighing in annoyance. “Are you taking the bed or not?” you ask dryly, not amused as he stands up.

Taking the hint, you mentally sigh again as you take the blanket to get it off your warm body. The temperature in this room is warm, almost hot, that's why you shed the pants before Yoongi came here and stayed in your underwear only. Luckily, there's no light here and maybe Yoongi could tell by the shadows, you don't mind that much. You'll just have to get dressed because there's no way you will try to fall asleep on a single chair with nothing on you. Even in this heat, not having a blanket sounds awful.

You're not sure how Yoongi has slept there for more than one night.

“Lay down,” Yoongi stops you from getting out of bed, at least his voice does as he grumbles those two words at you. “Don't make this any more awkward.”

You scoff in disbelief, laying back down with your side pressed to the cold wall. “I'm not making anything awkward!” you exclaim.

“Sure.” he mutters quietly, getting to the bed but not before you dryly gulp at the outline of his figure as he takes off some of his clothes. You see him tugging his shirt over his head, followed by his pants and boots as they clack against the floor.

Then the stiff mattress dips under his weight. While your mind is trying to process that you and him are in the same bed, a small single bed, Yoongi tugs onto the blanket you've had safely wrapped around your body. You click your tongue, a sound of annoyance comes from you but as always, Yoongi successfully ignores it and covers some parts of his body.

You're more wide awake than before. The heat radiates off his body, letting you know just as close he is. The scent of cheap soap sticks to his skin just as it does to yours, but surprisingly you find it more pleasing. Shaking yourself out of the moment of stupidity, you turn around rather quickly and face the wall. In the midst of it, your ass brushes against Yoongi's stomach and you suck in breath, shutting your eyes tightly.

You acknowledge how warm your body starts to feel like and it's definitely not because of the summer's heat. It's been a long time since you've shared a bed with someone, let alone a man. So long that you can't remember when was the last time.

Despite the obvious dislike and never-ending tension, you don't find it uncomfortable in the slightest to be sharing the small bed with him. To some extent, you hate yourself for actually craving his proximity.

What? Where did that come from?

Maybe it's the loneliness not only you, but the rest of civilization that has survived experiences. It feels nice to just lay beside someone. You've never been one to fully understand astrology, or being aware of all signs of love languages. Until one day you came across one article where the topic of love language has been discussed. You took a test. Turns out your love language is physical touch. Which makes perfect sense.

You should've known it way before taking some random internet test.

You've always loved to hug and be hugged. Or even touched affectionately.

Thinking of it now, you miss it dearly.

You've got no one. You're a lonely wolf despite being in a group of people of all kinds. Now specifically with Yoongi only, but you're still lonely for obvious reasons.

Engrossed in your lonely thoughts, you would've thought Yoongi is already asleep. Turns out he's not, because he's the one clicking his tongue in annoyance once you shift on your spot without realizing.

“Can you stop?” he mutters in frustration.

An apology is on the tip of your tongue but you change your mind, keeping your mouth shut instead. What you do is try to find the right position once again, keeping any physical contact minimum.

“Fucking hell.”

“I'm trying to find the right position!” you whisper harshly, not even sure why because it's not like there's anyone in the building. If you wanted to scream or throw furniture around, you could. Not sure why throwing furniture around came to your mind. But well… you never know with both of you.

“What are you? A puppy?” he asks mockingly.

You throw a glare at him over your shoulder, trying to elbow him in the stomach. It happens quickly and you don't think of any consequences. You should've taken your proximity into account – you definitely should have – but it's too late when your ass brushes against Yoongi's abdomen and evident soft bulge that's resting in his underwear.

Yoongi groans, hand flying to your hip to hold you away at the unexpected contact. A sound of shock and embarrassment leaves your mouth as you quickly turn around, doing the same damage as Yoongi's hand on your hip tightens.

“I'm sorry!” you shriek, voice muffled by the pillow as you glue yourself to the wall.

“Stop fucking moving around.” Yoongi grits, causing you to gasp in offense.

Hand sliding off your waist, you recognize the underlying feeling of disappointment when that happens. You mentally gasp. What the hell! You blame it on hormones. And the fact it's been too freaking long since you were this physically close to someone. Not only in the same bed but a simple touch such as a hand placed over your hip. It lasted short. Almost too short but you quickly shut that thought down.

There's no space or right time to relax since this craziness swallowed the world. You've been on edge ever since the news started reporting the first cases and visual proofs of undeads. Unmistakable fire burns within your body, the familiar but long no see tingling in the pit of your stomach makes your muscles tense.

Lying in a single bed with another person… touching is inevitable. What were you thinking by proposing this? Here you are trying to make the right thing – a good thing – and you get yourself into a bigger mess.

Not even a minute later and your bodies brush again by accident. You hear a sharp intake of breath coming from behind you, belonging to none other than the bane of your existence.

Bottom lip pulled between your teeth, you don't know what overtakes you when you not so subtly shift again. This time your ass directly touches his crotch. It barely lasts a few seconds when Yoongi's hand grips your waist again. Your gasp is audible just as his hold tightens.

“Just what you're about to do, dove?” he asks, voice full of raspiness and something that makes your toes curl.

“Nothing.” you mutter breathlessly.

“Doesn't seem like nothing to me,” he chuckles with a low tone, fingers gripping your flesh, making your skin feverish.

You get a burst of energy all of a sudden, your body responding to a single touch. When his chest brushes against your back, feeling his own skin, that causes your breathing to turn into a rapid heartbeat.

For all you know, this could be a game on Yoongi's part. It's not like you've thought of this often, but since his obvious dislike is nothing new to you or him, you would've thought he's despised at a mere thought of you. Or anything that has to do with you. You catch yourself silently praying this is not a game. Yoongi won't pull away and snort in your ears, voice filled with disgust and amusement. But it doesn't come, not even when you anticipate it.

And then you feel it.

His bulge is no longer soft, it's clearly harder and hardening with each passing second as you brush your ass against him. This time, more obviously. But also this time – you don't care how obvious and bold you are getting.

“Look what you've done.” he rasps, pressing himself between your asscheeks – being just as bold like you – causing you to gasp.

Trying to act as if his words and voice alone don't affect you, you audibly scoff but it comes out way weaker than you or him are used to. “You get hard and it's my fault?”

He might feel just as lonely as you do. After all, people have their needs. Even in the current state of today's world.

Yoongi lets out an amused chuckle behind you. He's no fool. And you weren't subtle at all. You were grinding your ass against his crotch not even five minutes ago. But surprisingly, he doesn't call you out and saves you from embarrassment.

“So, if I looked between these pretty legs, I wouldn't find you dripping?”

He makes no move, waiting for any sort of reaction from you in tonight's darkness. When your breath hitches and your thighs press together, Yoongi knows the answer. That's why he decides to test the waters by inching his hand down to the curve of your ass. He's pressed against you. You can feel him hardening, blood rushing to his cock and just the thought of it makes your head spin – not mentioning you can feel it firsthand.

Oh god.

You're so fucked.

There haven't been many opportunities when you would find yourself thinking about pleasuring yourself. But now… fuck, you're close to whining loudly to just feel something.

Two people. Alone. Lying in the single bed.

You would love to respond with a sarcastic remark. Or get that idea out of his head. To use that smart mouth of yours to give him the final blow. No pun intended! Not in that way anyway! But the truth is, that you don't want to. You do want him to look between your legs. To touch you where you're craving it the most. But you won't tell him that.

“No.” you gulp.

You sound nowhere near confident or sure – something he catches on very easily.

He leans closer, so close that he's spooning you just as his breath fans your ear. You visibly shiver, anticipating his next move just as you secretly wish he would do more.

And when you most expect it, he lets out a breathless chuckle. “Liar.” he whispers knowingly.

He knows. He knows and you hate that you're not bothered by it. Instead, you find pleasure flowing through your body. It curves just as Yoongi's fingers dig into the curve of your ass even more.

“And what if I'm not?” you play along, voice tight which makes him laugh a little.

“Oh, you are,” he laughs again, “Such a fucking liar. You want me to prove it?”

It's a simple question, yet it holds an important meaning. One that almost knocks the breath out of you. “Prove it then.” you say confidently, though your voice quivers which makes him smirk.

Or maybe it's the impatience behind it.

“Spread those legs for me.” he mutters, fingers loosening their pressure as they slide over your asscheek. Holy shit.

Slowly but determinedly, you do just as he says. Yoongi can tell your hesitance at the beginning, not that he blames you. He's not sure what the fuck are you two doing.

Confident in your body – like you haven't been in a while – you silently moan as soon as Yoongi's hand sneaks between your legs. His fingers brush against the thin fabric of your panties, your entire body shivering. It's crazy how much you can feel even with the barrier between you. And then he hooks a finger under your underwear, teasing you for a moment before he spreads your folds with his long fingers.

Your cheeks heathen up when the wetness can be heard by his fingers skillfully rubbing your cunt. He moves to your clit, rubbing it in circles which has you gasping.

“See? Liar,” he cockily comments, not halting his moves like you would expect him to. That's because you can't think at the moment. “So fucking wet.”

“Yoongi.”

Fuck! Why can't you keep your mouth shut? Yoongi is undoubtedly smug over the fact you're moaning his name.

“Hm?”

He teases your opening. “Feels good.”

“I know.”

You scoff with a silent laughter. “Of course you do.”

“Want more?”

“Please.”

“Look at you,” he laughs, putting slight pressure to his fingers but not entering you with them yet. “Polite and all that.”

“Don't sound so smug.”

He chuckles again. Fortunately for you, he decides not to tease (torture) you any further and enters you with his finger. You gasp, reaching behind you as you get a hold of his arm. You squeeze tightly, finger pumping you. Just as you grow accustomed to it, you need to feel more and your lips beg him for it without thinking. He stretches you out with another finger, fucking you with them as he picks up the pace. You're so close to cumming. At some point, you're sure you inform him of it as you desperately chase your high.

Only it's taken away from you as he pulls out his fingers leaving you to whine. The cloud of pleasure and lust slowly fades away and you're left frowning, no longer feeling his hands on you.

“What the fuck. Why would you do that?”

“You think you get to cum so easily?” he asks casually as if his fingers weren't inside of you just a moment ago.

You hear a sucking sound behind you, causing you to freeze. Fuck. Did he just taste you?

“You're such a–”

“Now, now. Take a breath, dove.” he muses behind you, amused while you fume. And then he hooks his hand under your thigh and spreads your legs again.

The blanket has been off your body for quite some time, suddenly chilly air hitting your heated up body and wet core.

“What do you want, dove? Hm?”

You curse. “Whatever you give me.”

Your ego is going to suffer a lot after this.

“My fingers?” he asks, hearing you suck in breath. “Or my cock?”

Gasping, you curse out loud again. Fuck, this is really happening.

“What's it gonna be, dove?”

If you weren't in the middle of this, you would've thought of Yoongi actually giving you an option. All while he's aroused himself, having his hard cock digging into your ass. Just the idea of having him inside of you has you gasping for air.

“Your cock.”

“My cock?” he asks, laughing a little. “You want my cock stretch this wet cunt?”

Who would've thought the usually grumpy and serious Yoongi has such a filthy mouth. Your hormones must go insane because you're clenching around nothing, with only one wish on your mind. And it has everything to do with what he had just asked you.

“Please what?” he muses.

Motherfucker.

“Come on, don't be shy now.”

“Don't make me beg.” you grit through your teeth, your impatience starting to rise.

“I need you to say it, dove.”

You don't look for multiple reasons behind him saying it. It's the tone he uses that makes you confirm your current and lustful wish. “Fuck me.”

You're not thinking straight. Your mind and body are clouded with lust. There's no control over you and all you're aware of, is that this is what you want at the moment. There's no thought of consequences or future. You live in the moment. Two people acting upon their physical need.

You're close to loosening it when you feel Yoongi's hand behind you, pulling onto your underwear as you help him slide it down your legs. Then he pulls out his cock, the wet tip grazing over your skin before he hooks his arm under your thigh. Spreading your legs, you feel him at your entrance just as your hand grips his one tightly.

He pauses, most likely thinking you want him to stop but you don't make any move. A plea softly comes out of you. Not a minute later, his hard cock enters your tight and warm walls. You both sigh in content. Since you haven't had sex for the longest time ever – let alone been touched intimately by anyone or yourself – everything seems more intense. For a second, you think you're about to cum.

You've never felt this way before.

You blame it on the lack of sex in your life.

He fills you up perfectly. You feel every inch, every vein and the curve of his cock as he pulls out before he sinks back into you. He grunts in pleasure, building up the pace along with pleasure as your and his skin collide with audible smacks. You're so out of it that you barely recognize the soft sounds your mouth makes, sinful curses mixing with them as well.

“Hold your leg up.” he grunts before he tugs down your bra, exposing your breast to his big hands as he squeezes the soft flesh.

Nipples hardened and perked up, he pinches the one in his hold which has seeing you stars. Your hand naturally finds its way to his locks, tugging onto his hair just as much as he does to your nipple. Leg aching, you force yourself to keep them spreaded as Yoongi pounds into you.

Your bodies hot and trembling with pleasure, the second Yoongi slaps your breast you moan loudly before cumming around his cock. He curses, grunting something against your shoulder but you're too out of it as he fucks you through your orgasm.

His hold on your breast leaves eventually, hand moving between your bodies quickly as he pulls out his cock from your pulsating walls. It twitches in his hold and just as your body goes limp, a warm liquid paints your ass and lower back. Yoongi pumps himself after his orgasm ends, dropping his body next to you with an exhausted sigh.

You both pant, trying to calm down your rapid beating hearts. You don't move, feeling his cum slowly trickling down your hot skin. Yoongi rubs his face, though you're unaware of his actions since you haven't moved. Your body is angled in your previous position, so he's not in your eye sight.

“Fuck.” he declares into the silent night, accompanied with your heavy breathing.

Your heartbeat starts to slow down, but you're sure it skips the moment the realization slowly hits you. You just had a sex with Yoongi. Unexpectedly. It happened.

Before you can properly freak out, even though in the back of your mind you knew what you were doing, you can't help but feel shocked by your actions. You just fucked someone who hasn't been the kindest to you. With him particularly, it's very difficult. He has saved your life more than once (as much as he likes to remind you of it), yet there's so much tension and hatred between you two that if you didn't need him, you would slap the hell out of him. You might not be able to kill, but you would surely try it with him. That much he makes your anger rise every time he's being an asshole.

You two don't work together. In any way. You can't stand each other! You barely made it here! And now you had sex and you're not sure if it didn't fuck things more.

He stands up, feet padding against the floor that creaks beneath his weight until something touches your lower back. You flinch, though no sounds leave yours or his mouth. It's safe to say you're surprised when he wipes his cum off your body. He clears his throat, tossing the dirty cloth he pulled out of nowhere (much to your knowing) before he gets back to bed.

Laying on your back, you stare at the ceiling in a complete silence.

Covering your bodies with the blanket for some modesty (as if you didn't have a sex just a minute ago), you completely ignore the fact your panties are nowhere in sight. Mentally sighing, you don't dare to move as you slowly turn around. Your back facing Yoongi as none of you bothers to utter a single word.

Perhaps that's what's best in this situation, you think as you hardly but slowly drift to sleep. Dreams reminding you of your sinful acts and uncertainty of what's going to happen when you wake up.

A/N: lemme apologize for making you guys wait so long for this chapter but it's finally here (can you believe it?!!). I hope the long chapter at least partially makes up for the long wait. as always, feedback is highly appreciated and could really kick my ass to work more on this story 🥹 thank you whoever is reading and interested in 2l, I appreciate every single one of you!! <3 I apologize for any possible mistakes, I tried to have this chap posted asap

#networkbangtan #btswritingcafe #ksmutclub #ficswithluv #bts smut #yoongi x reader #bts fluff #bts angst #bts au #yoongi fic #bts zombie au #personasintro

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hamsterclaw · 8 months

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Fic Library: Namjoon

A list of incredible fics I've read and re-blogged on my (almost) 2 years on here. These stories all celebrate our fave big, brainy, clumsy, sometimes annoying, always sexy Joon, check them out and give these authors some love!

The Body Through Time by @yeoldontknow. KNJ x f! reader, sexy academia AU. Angsty fic with Namjoon as a smouldering brainiac.

Goodnight Nabi by @sahmfanficbts. Get used to seeing Sam's handle in my lists because she's one of my fave writers and a lovely person to boot. KNJ x f! reader, sexy DILF mechanic Namjoon. A sexy, beautiful fic with Sam's signature hope and heart.

Pronoia by @junghelioseok. KNJ x reader, college + zombie apocalypse AU. A cracky, funny, zingy story with guest appearances from other members - including JK and Yoongi.

Booty Jorts by @miscelunaaa, who also has a good showing in my fic recs for her top notch writing and just being a great human. KNJ x f! reader - this is a smuttily delicious gem.

Shell-ter by @miscelunaaa. Hermit crab! Namjoon x marine biologist reader. I genuinely think about this grumpy (crabby?!) Namjoon all the time.

Scent of a woman by @sahmfanficbts. Leopard hybrid parfumerie boss! Namjoon x employee f! reader. There's always so much humanity in Sam's stories, and this does not disappoint.

How I love you by @ahundredtimesover. KNJ x f! reader. A 28k beautiful musing on love and marriage that's thought-provoking and sensitively written.

Seoul Redemption by @sahmfanficbts. Forger! KNJ x single mom! reader. A gorgeously realised imagining with a noir vibe and very human characters.

Park and Ride (Explicit) by @here2bbtstrash. KNJ x reader, idolverse. The first story I read by M, and it made me want to read so much more of her work. Sexy, fast-paced, and this Namjoon is swoonworthy.

Holding on letting go by @augustbutwinter. KNJ x gn! reader. August is queen of the short impactful drabble but her longer pieces are just as incredible. A sad, angsty, truthful, beautifully realised gem.

Cuffing Szn by @miscelunaaa. FBI agent KNJ x soft-bodied/plus-sized reader. Joon's an FBI agent, he's big and sexy, do you really need to know any more?

Reckless by @vyduan. Part of the Her multiverse. KNJ x reader, also featuring JJK x reader, idolverse. I started reading vyduan's writing when I first got into BTS fanfic, and apart from being a fucking fantastic writer, she's also an all-round good egg with a razor sharp wit. Reckless is hot and sexy and reader is gritty, strong and kickass. Namjoon is the arrogant pompous asshole of my dreams in this.

Fall apart & redefine by @ugh-yoongi. Idol KNJ x f! reader. Namjoon's music and musings give off sadboi vibes to me, and this gorgeous, angsty story captures all of that. Stunning.

On the line 1 by @augustbutwinter. KNJ x reader. I was only speaking the truth when I said August writes drabbles like no other. Short, cute and impactful.

Hey, it's me by @yoongiphoria. Exes Namjoon x reader. I remember reading this for the first time around the time Indigo came out and thinking how perfectly it captured the vibe of the album. I still love it now.

Untitled by @ahundredtimesover. An idolverse AU ft KNJ and f! reader. Musings on loss and impermanence and legacies also inspired by Indigo.

If this is all we can do by @yoongiphoria. A follow up to Hey, it's me, linked above, that made me stop skim reading and pay attention. Angsty, full of longing and just a great read.

The package thief by @blog-name-idk. KNJ x f! reader, enemies to lovers. I'm a fan of Mango's cracky humour, and it comes through in this judgy, petty and somehow also endearing Namjoon.

Shut up! by @daechwitatamic. KNJ x gn reader. I love it when a story alludes to Namjoon being annoying and I especially like how reader shuts him up. Smutty, sexy and so so good.

Envy by @whatifyoulivelikethat. KNJ x f! reader. Love this author's general DGAF vibes, and they've also written some of my favourite stories. Namjoon's gorgeously written and darkly sexy in this. So so hot.

The one with Namjoon and the u-haul by @eoieopda. KNJ x Jeon! reader. Jade's writing is sharply hilarious and this is a perfect example. A dreamy, sexy Namjoon and a lil shit JK.

Pheromones by @rmnamjoons. Spaceship captain Joon x spaceship botanist reader, sci-fi AU. The fic that introduced me to the concept of sex pollen and a sexy, sex-crazed yet somehow still chivalrous Namjoon.

Promise Me KNJ x f! reader, JJK x f! reader, military AU, by @sahmfanficbts. A beautifully written, tender love story that made me cry and reflect on my life. Sam writes emotions like no one else.

Additional notes: A few of my favourite Namjoon stories, are only on AO3, for which I've created a separate post.

#fic rec: namjoon #these authors are amazing

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chimsworldsstuff · 1 year

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BTS FF RECOMMANDATIONS

I still update everytime I read something!

KIM NAMJOON

Drunk texting | exes to lovers mini series | by @xpeachesncream

Prohibido | brothers's best friend au series | by @personasintro

Partners | strangers to lovers series | by @btssmutgalore

The art of war | exes AU series | ongoing | by @muniimyg

KIM SEOKJIN

To kill a King | historical fantasy world series | prince x OC | still ongoing | by @foxymoxynoona

By your side | roommates to lovers series | by @sodoyouknowbts

Forever | exes to lovers | by @oddinary4bts

PARALUMAN | love triangle ft. Jungkook series | by @muniimyg

Doe's peak | Hogwarts au one-shot | by @inkedtae

MIN YOONGI

Matilda | brother's best friend series | by @babystrcandy

Daydream | strangers to lovers (nurse x single dad) series | by @xpeachesncream

Schemin' | infidelity au | boss/employee series | by @dollfaceksj

Love lockdown | strangers to lovers (zombie apocalypse au) series | still ongoing | by @personasintro

Monachopsis | brother's husband au series | by @personasintro

Away from you | married couple au series | still ongoing | by @personasintro

Can't afford love | ex husband au series | by @dollfaceksj

Your universe | friends to lovers series | by @muniimyg

It takes two | best friends to lovers one-shot | by @xpeachesncream

JUNG HOSEOK

Soulmate | friends with benefits au series | by @bteezxyewriter12

Live, laugh, love | best friends to lovers | by @untaemedqueen

In good hands | smut one-shot | by @minisugakoobies

PARK JIMIN

I want to be with you | strangers (fan) to lovers long one-shot | by @oddinary4bts

Shifters | supernatural series | by @yoonia

Raise the barre | dance series au, rivals to lovers | by @kpopfanfictrash

The misadventures list | fake dating au | ongoing series | by @kimvvantae

Dance it off | enemies to lovers long one-shot | dancers au | by @kookdiaries

Believe it | friends to enemies to lovers long one-shot | by @writtenwhalien

Tainted | secret relationship AU | by @muniimyg

Paris in the rain | strangers to lovers series | still ongoing | by @sugarwithtea

Best of me | best friends to lovers series | by @writtenwhalien

KIM TAEHYUNG

The half-lycan | supernatural series | read Blood Moon Rising (Shifters series) first | by @yoonia

Crazy for you | (idol au) best friend's brother to lovers | by @oddinary4bts

Norway | couple journey long one-shot | by @edytae

Dad - dy | married couple one-shot | by @edytae

Patient love | best friend roommate au three-shot | still ongoing | by @writtenwhalien

JEON JUNGKOOK

Mutual help | best friends & fake dating au series | still ongoing | by @personasintro

Tell me what changed | fuckboy best friend au series | by @foxymoxynoona

Clash | enemies to lovers (neighbors au) series | still ongoing | by @matchagator

Confessions and confetti | friends to lovers one-sho | by @matchagator

Taste of a poison paradise | enemies to lovers AU | by @dollfaceksj

Motor head | friends with benefits one-shot | by @jeonjcngkook

Lowkey | friends to lovers (college au) & fake dating series | by @xpeachesncream

The millionaire and his lover | friends to lovers (CEO au) long one - shot | by @gukyi

Bands | stripper & idol AU | by @xpeachesncream

Libertine | f*ckboy and f*uckgirl au series | on going | by @msnanu

Denial | friends with benefits to lovers series | by @girlygguk

Liquid courage | strangers to lovers mini series | by @xpeachesncream

Hot in black | husband au one-shot | by @vminizzle

Hush Hush | brother's best friend au one-shot | by @sparklingchim

#bangtan #bangtan boys #bts #jimin #jungkook #bts smut #hoseok #taehyung #hobi #yoongi #bts fanfic

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3rinbkk · 10 months

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yoongi’s masterlist 🍊

SERIES

shoot your shot by @yoon2k

genre: smut, fluff.

love lockdown by @personasintro

genre: zombie apocalypse au, enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, eventual smut. summary: it started with a supposed virus all around the world. it continues with people turning into monsters who want to eat everything that’s alive.

three tangerines by @kithtaehyung

genre: brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au; angst, smut. summary: “when Yoongi told you he would be there if you needed anything, this isn’t what he had in mind”. NOTE: THIS IS MY FAVORITE FIC EEEVEEEER,, just wanted to say thank for this beautiful masterpiece <3

cyberslut by @kimnjss

genre: social media au. smut, college au, secret identity, tutoring au, slight themes of infidelity. summary: he has no idea who you are... up front, you're sweet and innocent- but in reality you're the exact opposite. running your own nsfw account, where your favorite topic is his hands.

ONE SHOTS

your yoongi by @yoongiphoria

genre: fluff and smut. NOTE: i don’t know why i can’t tag you, but i genuinely hope you see this. thanks for your work <3

don’t argue by @yoongiofmine

genre: fluff, smut, idol au, established relationship. summery: after almost six years together, yoongi asked you to move in with him. you’re done packing your whole apartment for the move, and he shows up to make sure your last night at your old place is special.

so close by @namfinessed

genre: major angst, fluff, second chance romance summary: words are not enough for people who are so close and so in love, or a fit in which yoongi loses you but will do everything in his power to win you back.

yoongi chokes you as a xmas gift by @noteguk

genre: pwp, established relationship.

next door by @personasintro

genre: fluff (?), smut. summary: your neighbor doesn’t respect your complaints about him being loud, but you don’t let it slide so easily.

first love, last love by @kithtaehyung

genre: angst, smut; opposites to lovers, high school/university au. summary: after the most pivotal moment in your life, you never thought you would ever see him again. years later, you cross paths in the last place you ever imagined him to be. was this the universe giving you a second chance? or were yo destined to repeat the same mistakes you fought hard to forget?

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b7ngt4n · 4 months

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The Last Remaining | Part 06

-> South Korea was left abandoned after a 'zombie' virus sweeps the nation. Left to save themselves, Y/N and a group of seven men, who she's found safety in, rely on each other to stay alive as they travel to the south side of the country on the hunt for a rumoured 'z-free' haven. But nothing is ever easy. Especially when they find it's not only just zombies they need to watch their backs for.

-> A female reader x BTS zombie apocalypse AU

-> Genre: Post-apocalyptic, action

-> Warnings for Part 6: swearing, violence

-> Word count: 3,208 words

-> Interactions are greatly appreciated xoxo 💖

Part 06: Sensei Jimin🧟

“Are you alright? Did those bastards hurt you? I swear to God if they touched you in any way—”

Jungkook bombarded you with questions as soon as you all sat down to rest at a random intersection, after running at least two blocks away without a break. You were busy trying to catch your breath while Jungkook looked like he barely broke a sweat. You were still in shock and overwhelmed at what you’ve just witnessed. A disturbing doctor, nearly being tricked into eating zombies, cannibalism, the list can go on.

Just seeing Jungkook and being with him healed your soul. You were thankful to be alive and you were thankful he was alive too. So much so you had pulled him into a hug without even thinking about it.

It was one way to immediately shut him up. He stood paralysed, unsure how to breathe, think, or act. When the gears in his brain started to work again, you felt his strong arms wrapped around your waist bringing you closer to his warm body. Jungkook could literally feel your racing heartbeat through your back. And you could feel his through his chest. He was all you needed to remind you life was worth the little things.

“Thank you Kook,” you mumbled into his chest. Hearing you shorten his name like that had him feeling butterflies in his stomach. Only his close friends occasionally called him ‘Kook’, but it hit different coming out of your mouth. He wanted to hear you call him that ten more times. “Thank you for coming back and saving us. Saving me.”

He leaned his chin on your head, grateful you were safe in his arms, “always.”

“Is everyone okay? Nobody ate the soup, right?” Namjoon asked everyone, hands on his knees as he recharged his physical battery.

You and Jungkook pulled away from each other to join the rest. Everyone replied an exhausted ‘no’ between breaths to Namjoon’s question. You sat down next to Yoongi, checking up on him and thanking him for his rescue mission efforts. Jungkook went to go sit down next to Jin, who had some teasing tricks up his sleeve.

“Jungkook definitely had a spoonful or two. Did anyone see how fast he picked up that bowl?” Jin teased him, playfully nudging him as Jungkook hit him on the shoulder in retaliation. Hoseok and Taehyung bursted out laughing.

“Our Jungkook-ie’s a true gentleman now,” Jimin joined in on the teasing on his brother as the four of them all laughed together. Jungkook rubbed at the back of his neck in embarrassment. His round cheeks turned a faint rosy pink colour as he met your gaze. You were smiling at him, softly laughing along with the cheeky men. Seeing your smile made him forget he was ever self-conscious.

“Jokes aside, my arm feels like it's going to fall off,” Yoongi groaned, sliding off a chunky army backpack from around his shoulder and ditching it on the ground. He unzipped it to reveal handguns, ammunition, walkie-talkies, and body gear packed inside, "take your pick lady and gentlemen."

The boys were in awe of the different type of gems the duo managed to get their hands on. While they crowded around Yoongi, Namjoon gently pulled you to the side.

"I'm sorry Y/N," he apologised causing a puzzled frown on your face, but before you could ask any questions he continued, "you were right to be suspicious about those missing zombie parts. And I feel very ashamed I shut you down like that. I feel like if I listened to you, maybe we could've avoided that entire thing," he sighed heavily, looking down while burying his head in his hands.

You shook your head in disagreement, "there was no way we could've known any of that was going to happen. So please don't blame yourself," you tried to comfort him, but it did very little. He was still disappointed in himself and remained quiet, lost in deep rumination. That's when you had a thought.

"Who's idea was code purple?" you whispered to him softly after a moment of silence.

He glanced up at you, thinking for a second before answering, "it was mine."

"What's the reasoning behind it?" you asked. Namjoon didn't understand the sudden interrogation behind code purple but he answered your question regardless.

"I made it up in case we ever got split up and had to try find each other again. We decided if that were to ever happen, we just had to trust each other and that it'd all work out somehow and we'd all meet again," he explained to you nonchalantly. It was a very intellectual idea. You admired his sense of foresight.

"I think code purple is what saved us," you told him, giving him a small smile. He stared at you blankly like he didn't get your point, "you saved us Namjoon,” you clarified, emphasising on the 'you,' making sure your message got into his head.

"If you hadn't have set up that system, how could Yoongi and Jungkook have understood the situation? How could they have found us? With breadcrumbs?" you joked sarcastically, making him chuckle, a positive sign your pep talk was getting somewhere, "you make smart moves Namjoon. I understand why they look up to you so much," you referred to 'they' as in the boys. Briefly glancing at them, the younger ones were playing with handguns like they were in an action movie only to get scolded by the older ones.

"Don't let someone who deceived you doubt yourself and your abilities," you patted his shoulder just as Jungkook called you over, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

“Is he alright?” he whispered lowly into your ear as he kept an anxious eye on his brother.

“He’s fine,” you assured him, reaching out to rub his hand gently, “just needed a little motivation that’s all.”

And as if on cue, Namjoon stepped in to calm an overly excited Taehyung and Jimin from mishandling a gun before he addressed everyone, “it’s time we get the fuck out of here.”

According to a tiny tourist paper map Yoongi found back at the police station, the next city to pass through was Osan. There was no way of making it there before nightfall. And there was no way any one of you wanted to stay another night in Suwon.

Once you all had journeyed as far as the sunlight allowed you to, Namjoon declared to spend the night at an old camping grounds close by. The boys found their confidence levels boosting with every kill they made with their new equipment. It was a bigger upgrade from their last weapons — a rusty axe and pepper spray. You, on the other hand, were still incapable of properly killing a zombie.

The only thing you felt confident using was a taser. It was simple for a simple girl like you. Just aim and tase. But that wouldn’t be very effective if you were ever swarmed. Plus the batteries could run out at any time, making it a very unreliable source.

The only other things you’ve used in the apocalypse have been a baseball bat and your pocket knife — sort of. You used your baseball bat to push away zombies to create enough distance for you to run away rather than kill them. And the only time you used your knife was to threaten Jungkook and Jimin the first time you guys met. Which according to Jungkook didn’t scare them at all. Only the boys have been killing zombies. You, so far, have been a bit useless.

You weren’t proud of it. You were actually embarrassed about it. So when the boys got busy building a fire and trying to catch fish from the nearby lake, you took it upon yourself to get some training in.

About a minute away, you found a good empty space of ground next to the lake to practice your shooting. You weren’t very familiar with guns. You assumed the one you had taken was a handgun, considering it was one of the smaller ones that fit nicely in your hand.

“You got this Y/N, you know what you’re doing” you motivated yourself, trying to convince yourself you had it under control. You held the gun in both your hands, arms fully extended as you aimed at a tree trunk in front of you.

Just as you were trying to adjust to the feel of it and sussing out your aim, you heard a low groan that did not sound so human. Appearing from behind a tree trunk was a thin and very rough looking zombie. Its clothes had been ripped and its blue-ish skin was covered in dirt, perfectly camouflaging into the brown nature. It looked like it’s been lurking in the woods for a while based off the state it was in.

It was still a good distance from you, not in much of a rush to get to you. It gave you enough time to aim at it, making it your very first target. Closing one eye for the most accurate aim, once you were satisfied you could hit him you pulled the trigger. But to your surprise, nothing came out.

You frowned, pulling it again but nothing came out again. And the zombie only came closer, closing the gap between you two.

“Shit! Why won’t it shoot!” you yelled, your frustration getting to you as you prepare to run before it’s too late.

“Turn off the manual safety,” you heard a familiar voice call from behind you, glancing back to find Jimin coming out from the bushes. Before you could yell what safety he quickly specified, “turn down the lever on the left side!”

You didn’t notice it before, the tiny lever on the side of the gun. The zombie was only an arms length away from you as you immediately pulled the trigger without properly aiming. Luckily, the bullet shot right into the zombies chest, killing it for the second time.

“Shit,” you breathed out, panting from the adrenaline pumping through your veins. Jimin appeared at your side, shaking his head in disapproval as he slipped the gun out your hands.

“Do I have to start keeping an eye on you missy?” he raised a brow while tucking the gun away in his pants, but not before turning on the manual safety.

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms as he chuckled at your clumsiness, “I was just getting some training in, no big deal.”

Jimin gave you that ‘are-you-serious?’ look as he placed his hands on his hips, “no big deal but you nearly got yourself killed? Yeah I think we will leave the gun training for later,” he responded sassily making you giggle.

He picked up two long sturdy branches lying on the floor, handing one to you while he kept the other.

“Do you know how to sword fight?”

Of course you didn't know how to sword fight. Just another thing to add to the list of talents you don't have.

Jimin shared he learned kendo for about 8 years when he was younger. He explained to you that it was a form of Japanese martial arts with bamboo swords. It taught him all the basics of sword fighting. He enjoyed the thrill of it, fueling his innocent little dreams of wanting to become a pirate.

As he grew older, so did his love and hobby for sword-fighting. When he became old and mature enough he began to learn kenjutsu and iaido, which were more comprehensive and traditional forms of japanese sword-fighting.

"So you're like a samurai?" you joked as he adjusted your awkward-not-very-samurai-like stance, laughing at your comment.

"I guess so?" he answered, not so sure if he'd ever consider himself to be. But now that he was actually using his sword-fighting skills in the real world, especially to kill, he figured he might actually just qualify.

You spent nearly two hours learning the proper stance, how to hold your 'sword', as well as basic attack and defense techniques. Once you managed to roughly memorise those skills, Jimin decided to put your knowledge to the test by making you spar with him. That's when the sweet and kind Jimin you knew transformed into the merciless sensei you never knew was hiding inside him.

He did not go easy on you. He was very strict, quick to point out when you weren't using the proper stance, or if you weren't hitting him properly, or even if you were being too slow. Nor did he allow you many breaks. He told you it was for your own good, and although you did agree with him, part of you just wanted to collapse on the ground and do nothing for an hour.

By the time Jungkook came to interrupt your training session to inform you both dinner had been cooked, the sun had already set. There was a cool spring breeze in the air that gave you goosebumps, but that didn't bother Jimin's teaching mode. The first thing Jungkook noticed about you was how exhausted you were. But from the brief moment he saw you sparring he could tell you've learned a thing or two.

You were impressed to find a well-lit campfire and grilled fish awaiting you. The boys were huddled around the campfire, sharing bowls they stole from the grounds keeper's cabin between each other. Yoongi stood up, handing you a bowl of grilled fish and what appeared to be vegetable soup.

"Hope it's not too early to be having soup," he laughed with a mouthful of food lodged in his mouth, comfortingly patting your shoulder.

The rest of the night was followed by conversations, laughter, and stories from what life was like before the apocalypse as you all sat around the fireplace. In that brief moment it felt like there no apocalypse to begin with. You actually felt a sense of normality after the longest time of the most bizarre things ever known to man happening to you. It just felt like you were with a group of friends who spontaneously decided to go camping one day. You felt like you've known the boys forever. In a way their presence soothed you. To hear Hoseok's contagious laughter, to listen to Jimin's expressive story-telling, to eat Jin's well-cooked dinner despite the circumstances, and to feel protected by Jungkook. The world could end but as long as you're surrounded by your new friends, you felt like nothing could hurt you.

As the night deepened and the boys dozed off one by one, you on the other hand were wide awake. You had never struggled to fall asleep this much before. Even after twisting and turning your entire body. Maybe it was the uncomfortable hard ground or the chilly breeze against your skin. But you just could not fall asleep.

The only other person who was awake was Jin. He was first in line to stay up and keep watch. You offered to take over his job for him and let him have a sleep. He turned down your offer, keeping you company as you both talked for a bit. Until his eyes became redder and drier, he knew he was losing the battle between him and his self conscious begging him to sleep.

You were lucky the moon was full and shining above you, blessing you with its moonlight. The fire had to be put out before everyone slept to prevent attracting attention from zombies. You used to be terrified of the dark. Yet here you were. Sitting in the dark, outside, in silence, with just yourself. Strangely, it wasn't as scary as you previously believed. Matter of fact, it was somewhat relaxing.

Where you had set up camp was right next to the lake. You left your spot from next to Jungkook and went to sit on the bank, next to the water. The lake was gorgeous under the moonlight, taking your breath away. It reflected the off-white moon, the clusters of stars in the sky, and the silhouette of forest trees on the horizon. You could hear the calming sounds of water, crickets, and frogs croaking. It sounds gross but having a break from hearing the groan of zombies or something being killed was a nice change.

"You still up?"

Jungkook's voice startled you out of your thoughts. You turned around to find him rubbing his eyes as he yawned and stretched his arms, before making himself comfy next to you.

"Couldn't sleep," you sighed, your gaze lingering on the moonlit landscape in front of you.

"I understand that, you've been through quite a lot," he whispered softly. You felt his hand rest on top of yours, his thumb caressing your skin.

You let silence fill the atmosphere. It was somehow the loudest silence you've ever experienced.

"The last time I fell asleep," you started, glancing at him to find his big brown eyes giving you their fullest attention. Even in the dark under the restricted moonlight, you could still see his sparkling eyes, "I woke up and you weren't there."

Jungkook's relaxed expression immediately melted into concern as he pulled you into him without hesitation, "I'm sorry I left you by yourself."

"It's not your fault Kook," you wiggled out his grip to see his face and look him in the eyes, "it's just the shit world we live in. I can't trust this stupid world and the stupid things they do."

You felt ridiculous tearing up as it was just something of the past, but you felt ten times more embarrassed as you felt the tears roll down your cheeks. You couldn't look him in the eye anymore, glancing down as your face turned an angry red in shame.

Jungkook cupped your hot cheeks, wiping away your tears with the pad of his thumb. You felt a sense of deja vu, thinking back to the first time you met. Except this time, you didn't try cut his hand off.

"You're right to not trust the world," he muttered, gently pulling you closer to rest his lips on your forehead, giving you a light peck, "but you can trust me, okay? I'll always find a way back to you."

You couldn't say or do anything but just quietly cry in his arms as he comforted you. You aren't sure what came over you. Nor did you understand why you were so attached to Jungkook and why he was so attached to you. Why was he so willing to protect you? To take care of you? And always come back to you as he says? And why do you let him? Was it the lack of love in your life that made you crave his? Was it because your self-conscious felt safe enough around him and the rest of the boys that you've developed an unhealthy attachment to them?

You weren't so sure or understood anything in life anymore. The last thing you remembered before finally drifting off to sleep was Jungkook's body snuggled up close to yours as he gently caressed your hair.

Until you jolted up the next morning to Hoseok's frantic voice piercing your eardrums,

"He's gone!"

(a/n: HERE SHE ISSS after a long weeks hiatus she has returned ladies & gentlemen!! i hope u enjoyed this part. honestly this part is lowk a let down after a weeks absence i’m so sorry like there’s no drama or action 🙄🙄 but don’t worry, as u can tell by my cliffhanger 🤭, the nxt part is for sure going to be more eventful!

i love u all thank u so much for reading n loving this series i rlly enjoy writing this series and can’t wait to write out all my ideas i’ve planned for this series 💖 till nxt time, stay sexy kids xoxo😛😛😘😘)

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ugh-yoongi · 1 year

Text

threw a punch in a bar | knj

(or, nothing good happens when a man you’d accidentally knocked out in a bar fight tells you to run.)

→ pairing: namjoon x f. reader → genre: zombie!au | crack, smut → rating: explicit. minors dni. → warnings: swearing, alcohol, a guy gets pushy in a bar, this results in a bar fight (mentioned broken bones, but nothing is described in explicit detail), vague american setting in order to drag the us healthcare system, side vmin, taehyung has klepto tendencies but he steals from wal-mart so it’s fine, really mid smut including: kissing, very slight dom!joon, grinding/thigh riding, implied oral (f. receiving), fingering, reader drops a bryce harper quote during sex, namjoon’s dick is big but we knew that, this is cancelled out by his horrible dirty talk, unprotected sex, vmin’s dumpling fight but make it settlers of catan. this is technically a zombie fic, but the circumstances are 99% in the background. there is nothing gory here, just sort of found family vibes centered around an apocalypse. also when i said the smut is mid i meant it. everyone has himbo tendencies except yoonjin. → wordcount: 11k → a/n: started this forever ago after doing one of those twt pause games on who i’d be stuck with in the zombie apocalypse. my result was vmin & namjoon, which birthed the idea of vmin spending the entire apocalypse subtly trying to convince you to sacrifice yourself for them. i was going to publish the draft of this on halloween but decided to finish it, went into a trance, and added 9k words, so please accept my late and humble offering. → thank yous: lauren, bee, and jess as always for all of their help: beta’ing, general feedback, constructive criticism, telling me when my shit doesn’t make sense. @effortandmore / @hot-soop / @the-boy-meets-evil

Any bartender worth their salt knows you don’t mix tequila and brandy.

Jimin, apparently, is only worth enough salt to rim a margarita glass.

All because he’s chaos incarnate: an absolute hellion of a person who causes problems just because. The type of person who calls a drink something innocuous like Tipsy Meow because it sounds sweet and he knows it’ll get people to order it. Sometimes he even serves them in glasses with cats painted on them, which is really cute and endearing and gets people to order that drink in the cute cat glass despite the fact that that drink in the cute cat glass is tequila and brandy.

In any other bar, that drink would be called something appropriate and applicable, like a Knockout.

Because that’s what it does—starts bar fights.

Which Jimin knows, because he’s actually a very competent bartender, but he likes to cause problems on purpose, especially on Tuesday nights when there’s not much else going on.

“Why did you do that?” Yoongi asks, watching some poor, unsuspecting woman practically skip back to her table with two Tipsy Meows in hand.

Jimin just smiles and shrugs. “Because,” he answers, eyes twinkling with something underhanded, “that tall guy at the high-top? He’s been eyeing her all night. She wouldn’t go for it on a good day, but after one of those?” A low whistle under his breath.

Yoongi just stares. He’s known Jimin a long time, going on six years now, so he’s never truly surprised at how duplicitous he can be, but sometimes he pretends for appearance’s sake. “Evil.”

“Not evil,” Jimin retorts, eyes rolled, “just bored.”

Snorting, Yoongi whips the towel off his shoulder and starts wiping down the bar. “Then do a fucking crossword puzzle.”

Jimin waves him away. “I’m not good at them. I’m good at this.”

“Getting people to fight in our bar?” Yoongi clarifies. Jimin nods. They stare at each other for a minute before Yoongi shrugs and finds some menial task to busy himself with. “Whatever. You’re on clean-up duty, though. The last time you pulled this shit, I was sweeping up glass for three fuckin’ days.”

Because he’s chaos incarnate, Jimin’s response is a sarcastic salute, two fingers pressed to his forehead as Yoongi flips him off in return.

Something is wrong.

You’ve been to this bar countless times, have always ordered the same thing. Always made sure to stick to your limits, because college had been both an exercise in adulting and maintaining a functioning liver.

Maybe it’s because the mint-haired guy didn’t make your drinks this time. Truthfully, you’ve been wary of him for a while, convinced he’s been watering them down just to get you to buy more. Not that you’re complaining. In all the years you’ve been coming here, you’ve never made a fool of yourself.

Now, though?

Now you’re very rapidly approaching find the nearest trashcan ASAP territory. I’m going to regret this in the morning territory. This hasn’t happened since that frat party sophomore year territory.

Yeah, that party. You’d drank something god-awful that night, too. Got roped into a game of strip poker in a seedy basement and walked away with $2,000, three nickels, and a half-used KFC gift card, only down a sock. Some douchebag frat bro hadn’t liked that very much, accused you of cheating and gave you a real hard time about it. Long story short, you’d been fueled by too many of the suspicious drinks and knocked him out.

This feels a lot like that.

Because you’re drunk, yes, but there’s something else lurking beneath the surface. Something that’s itching for a fight. Something that’s been dormant for a long time.

(This is a startling realization, because you’re not a violent person, despite all evidence to the contrary. You’ve only ever thrown one punch in your life. It’s really not your fault that it wound up being the punch heard ‘round the world.)

Those who cannot remember the past are doomed to repeat it. Your sixth grade history teacher had that quote hung on the wall and you haven’t thought about it until now. Because there’s a guy approaching your table—probably six-foot, wearing an expensive watch and polished shoes—and he’s been eyeing your friend all night. Had made a few crude comments to his buddies that you’d regretfully overheard, and you’re all out of sorts because the mint-haired bartender hadn’t made your drinks, so he’s nearly got his elbows on the table when you say—

“Fuck off, asshole.”

Both your friend and the guy look equally shocked. “Excuse me?” he says, looking back to the idiots at his table in disbelief.

You roll your eyes, blood beginning to boil. “I said fuck off. She’s not interested.”

“And she can’t speak for herself?” he retorts, all faux-chivalry now that everyone’s attention is on him, even though the bar is practically deserted at nine o’clock on a Tuesday. “Your friend’s a little uptight, huh?” he says, shifting his attention fully away from you.

God, you always do this—befriend the most wholesome people in the room. The ones who always assume the best in others; the ones who can’t say no; the ones who feel guilty speaking up. This friend is no different. Looks at you like a deer about to get rearranged by a car, all wide, panicked eyes and a tight-lipped smile, only polite out of obligation.

What happens next is shocking to everyone except Jimin and Yoongi. Safe behind the bar, the two of them watch as you tell the man to fuck off one more time. He refuses, his attention still laser-focused on your friend, reaching for her. Someone appears to his left—another stranger, this one taller and wider in all the right places and exuding far less scumbag energy—and places a large hand on his shoulder. Leans down to say something to him that you don’t catch. Whatever it is, you’re assuming it’s said in that brand of tense politeness men use with other men before they threaten to knock them out.

Regardless of what’s said, the original douchebag just snorts derisively, jutting his shoulder backwards to get the stranger’s hand off of him. This really bothers you, for all the obvious reasons. Why can’t this idiot take no for an answer? What’s his fucking deal?

Apparently you voice the latter out loud, and the bastard is laughing again, lips turned upwards in an ugly little sneer. Far too quickly, you go from bothered but mostly in control to seeing red and cocking back. All because the mint-haired bartender hadn’t mixed your drinks. Now you’re punching some pushy asshole in the jaw and are probably going to get arrested.

“Oh shit,” you hear, but it sounds like you’re underwater. It’s certainly not a voice you recognize, but you only know one person in this bar and you just punched someone to make sure she didn’t get harassed by some asshole who couldn’t take a fucking hint.

Pain erupts in your hand. There’s probably something broken, maybe multiple somethings, but you don’t have much time to dwell on it before someone’s grabbing you by the elbow and dragging you out of the bar.

A shame, you think; you’d really like to see how much of a pissbaby that guy turns into when he catches sight of his own blood.

“I hope you’re proud of yourself.”

You groan. Whatever room you’re in is far too bright and far too loud, which means you’re probably at home already being lectured by Hoseok. You crack an eye open, and—yep, that’s Hoseok, usual human embodiment of sunshine who is now staring at you like a grumpy little rain cloud. “What’re you talking about?” you grumble, fingers flying to your temples to ease some of the throbbing pain.

Hoseok must be pretty pissed, because he just watches you clutch at your aching head and doesn’t say a word. Usually you can guilt trip him into making you coffee and buttered toast. Grabbing you some pain killers, at the very least, but he’s not budging. You swallow hard.

“Do you remember anything from last night?”

“Not really,” you answer. You’ve been awake for approximately three seconds and your two brain cells haven’t connected to form a rational thought yet, let alone conjure up whatever shenanigans you got into the night before. “I think I went out for drinks with the new hire from work, but that’s it.”

“Mehmehmeh but that’s it,” Hoseok mimics under his breath, voice pitched far too high to ever pass as yours, looking more and more incensed by the second. Everyone told you he’d be too neurotic to live with. You should’ve listened. “Do you remember drinking too much and punching a guy?”

Ah, that would explain why your hand is fifty shades of purple, you think. “Ah, that would explain why my hand is fifty shades of purple,” you say.

Hoseok looks like he’s ready to explode. “Can you fucking take this seriously,” he seethes. “You’re too old to be getting wasted and starting bar fights! What in the actual fuck is wrong with you? You broke a man’s nose, you fucking maniac! What if he calls the cops? God, what if he sues you? Do you have lawsuit money? Because I sure as fuck don’t, not that I would bail you out of jail for this, anyway, because you don’t deserve it—”

“I broke someone’s nose?” Far too late, you realize you should’ve kept that proud wonder out of your voice.

Hoseok’s up and screeching before you can plug your ears. “You are un-fucking-believable! I have to leave. I can’t sit here another second and listen to this.” He’s fussing over his clothes and hair as soon as he’s on his feet, distress seeping out of every pore. “There’s fresh coffee in the pot and I made sure to save you two slices of bread,” he grits out, as if it’s causing him immense pain to be nice to you right now, before adding, “and there’s also aspirin and water on your nightstand. I would not recommend taking it on an empty stomach.”

And then he’s gone.

You microwave the mug of coffee and choke down the toast that’s grown suspiciously hard. You swallow two aspirin with coffee even though you know better and should be drinking the water, but the water has been sitting out for god knows how long and probably has dust particles and other gross things in it. You take a long shower to wash away the bar grime and hangover remnants and nearly crumble to the floor in pain when you try to wash your hair.

Right, your hand.

It’d been easy enough to ignore when you were focusing on not vomiting and taking your painkillers, but not so much anymore. Even if Hoseok hadn’t told you you’d punched someone, you could’ve pieced that much together—the bruising is severe and the swelling even more so. Trying to bend your fingers feels like a fate worse than death, so you salvage your shower as best you can before getting dressed one-handed and ordering an Uber to the nearest urgent care.

Which, much to your horror, is packed.

Every seat is taken except for one next to a man with a baseball cap pulled low and a thawed-out ice pack in his hand. He doesn’t acknowledge you when you sit next to him, and you’re almost offended until you spot the AirPods in his ears. God, he must’ve been here forever if he’s brave enough to plug his ears in a place that unashamedly sends you to the back of the line if you don’t answer when your name is called.

You need to know what you’re getting into, so you tap him on the shoulder and ask, “Hey, how long have you been here?”

The man seems flustered. He reaches for his phone and sends it plummeting to the floor, and when he retrieves it you notice the screen is cracked to hell so this must be a common occurrence. “Oh, uh. I’m not sure,” he says, voice all nasally like he’s got a bad cold. “Maybe two hours or so?”

You groan. “Two hours? Are you for real?” He just nods, still not meeting your eye. You pull out your phone, too, then, and put in the web address for the hospital. “D’you think the wait times are less shitty at the ER?”

“Maybe.”

“You didn’t look? No offense, but you sound pretty awful. I figured you’d want to get whatever it is taken care of sooner rather than later.”

The man snorts. Sounds painful. “Yeah, well. I work at a shitty nonprofit and the only insurance tier I could afford had a two-thousand-dollar deductible, so I’ll take my chances here.”

You hum in sympathy. “Do you believe in karma and reincarnation and all that? Because I do, and I think I must’ve been pretty fucking terrible in a past life to be born in a country without free healthcare in this lifetime.” The man beside you grunts in agreement. “Like, shit. What if I was Norwegian in a past life? Or, like, Canadian?”

“Only worth being Canadian if you’re not Indigenous.”

“Hm, yeah, that’s true. What human rights violations have the Norwegians committed?”

“No clue.”

“I’m gonna Google it,” you decide. Then, a second later, “Not great being Indigenous in Norway, either.”

“Is everyone shitty?” the man asks, pressing the warm ice pack back to his face. You wince on his behalf.

“Yeah.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you watch him pause his music. An album cover you don’t recognize, because this guy definitely strikes you as the underground type: paid Spotify account with immaculate playlists full of artists no one else has heard of, either. Probably imports half of his own shit, too, so his playlists only work on his own phone and everyone yells at him when they try to play his playlists and get nothing but silence.

“What about you?” he asks, and it’s a question that should sound greasy but just sounds really sad with his clogged nose. “Are you shitty?”

“Yep,” you answer instantly, holding up your hand. You’d managed to wrangle an elastic bandage around it, but the bruising is obvious and not easily hidden.

The man whistles. “Damn, how’d you do that?”

“Punched a guy in a bar fight, apparently.”

In hindsight, it should be obvious, the cruel joke the universe is playing on you: you, with your mottled, probably-broken hand; the man next to you, with a black eye and an ice pack pressed to his nose. Right church, wrong pew, your mother always used to say about you, and you’d taken it then as a nod to your creativity and ingenuity, but now you’re thinking you might just be fucking stupid.

Because the atmosphere immediately shifts. The man goes stiff, pauses, tenses his shoulders. Then he asks, “Yeah? What bar? I might’ve heard about it.”

And you might be fucking stupid but you’re not dumb, so you just shrug. “Oh, I don’t know,” you reply, doing your best impression of a person with nothing between their ears. “My coworker dragged me out, and I like her fine, y’know, but if I’m being honest, I don’t know how long she’s gonna last. I think she’s too nice. Well, I thought she was too nice, but then she invited me out for drinks and invited me to this crazy bar with horrible, violent people—”

“And you punched someone,” the man finishes for you, cutting short your tirade.

“Supposedly punched someone,” you correct. “I have no recollection of it, but that’s what my roommate said. He was shrieking and used his Serious Mom Voice so I’m inclined to believe him, though.” You try to wiggle your fingers and have to suppress a scream. “Plus I can’t move my hand, so there’s that.”

This is the part where you get yelled at. You can feel it. The man beside you is about to blow up, demand your name and phone number so he can report you for assault, probably also demand some money because he’d just talked about his god-awful insurance and you’re the entire reason he’s here, but the universe may be cruel but it’s also fair, because—

“Nam…joon?” a bored medical assistant calls out. The man startles, curses under his breath that no one even attempts to pronounce his name correctly, drops his phone again, and if you weren’t glued to your chair in fear you might’ve picked it up for him.

Namjoon stands—he’s fucking massive, and if this is the guy you actually punched, you’ll spare a second later to marvel at yourself—and looks down at you. Sends you the meanest, most murderous glare he can muster, clenched jaw and all, and then he’s disappearing behind a door.

You… feel bad.

It’s not like you’d meant to punch him. You hadn’t wanted to punch anyone! And that has to count for something, so when he comes back out you’ll plead your case and offer to buy him a late lunch, because if he’d been waiting hours you’ll be waiting longer, and maybe he’ll find you just endearing enough to forget that you’d broken his nose and the two of you will become friends. You’ll do the Best Person speech at his wedding and laugh about the time you’d punched him, or maybe you’d be marrying him and—

Pump the brakes.

You love a good enemies-to-lovers, but maybe not so much in real life.

The wait is torturous.

An hour ticks by. You text Hoseok, tell him about the man you’d met and ask if he thinks it’s The Guy, and Hoseok writes back with a very pointed, I fucking hope it is. You’re not sure what that means. Does he hope Namjoon is the guy so you can apologize? So you can make sure he’s okay? Surely he wouldn’t be hoping for Namjoon to even the score and break your nose, too, but he was really mad this morning so you wouldn’t put it past him.

Another half hour. If you’d been paying attention, you would’ve realized how eerily quiet the waiting room has grown. No idle chatter, no coughing, no pained groans. People seem to be going in but not coming out, and you’ve been paying attention to that much, at least, so you can catch Namjoon.

And then the door slams open.

Namjoon stands there, nose stuffed with a cartoonish amount of gauze and a large splint across the bridge. He’s breathing hard. Looks like he’d just ran a marathon, which doesn’t make sense because how large can the backend of an urgent care really be, but then his eyes found you and—

“Run,” is all he says.

Nothing good happens when a man you’d accidentally knocked out in a bar fight tells you to run. Fucking stupid but not dumb, though, so you’re up and out of your seat before he can repeat himself.

Although you’re not sure where you’re supposed to go. You’d taken an Uber, and you can’t really order an emergency one of those. Besides, all Namjoon had said was run but not why, so you’re also not sure if it even is an emergency.

So here you are, standing in the middle of the parking lot like a bozo while Namjoon fumbles with the keys to a pickup truck. “Hey!” you call out, stomping towards him. “Are you gonna tell me what the fuck’s going on?”

Namjoon looks up only long enough to catch your eye. “You need to get out of here,” is all he says. Which is supremely and deservedly unhelpful.

“Why? I ca—I took an Uber here, I don’t have a car. I don’t know where I’m supposed to go or why I had to run out of there or if this is DEFCON 5 or DEFCON 1—”

“One,” Namjoon answers. “It’s definitely DEFCON 1.” Door unlocked, Namjoon meets your gaze again, deadly serious. “I’m not fucking around. You need to get out of here. Right now.”

This has to be a joke. He’s mad you’d broken his nose and now he’s getting his revenge. Still, you’re not all that keen to pay hundreds of dollars in medical bills for them to tell you something you already know, so you’ll play along. “Fine. Can I get a ride, then?”

“No.”

“So it’s an emergency but you won’t give me a ride.”

Namjoon glares at you. “You broke my fucking nose!”

“But I also broke my own hand, so we’re even.” It’s absolutely not a fair trade, but Namjoon seems to chew it over nonetheless. “Hey, c’mon, you wouldn’t leave me here! You’d feel too guilty.”

“How would you know?”

“Because you work at a nonprofit and care about human rights violations, and I am a human with rights, and it’d definitely be a violation to leave me here in a DEFCON 1-level emergency when I don’t even know what’s going on—”

Namjoon slaps a hand over your mouth. A large hand. A very, very large hand that easily covers half of your face. You’ll blame your pathetic whimper on fear. “I saw some shit in there, okay?”

“What kind of shit, though. Urgent cares are weird. Ominous little vortexes where reality is altered. You ever been in one at night? Like 28 Days Later vibes—”

“Yes!” Namjoon snaps his fingers. “Yes, that! Exactly like that!”

Your relief is palpable. You sag a little. “Oh! So it was just weird in there? What, did you get a creepy doctor or something?”

“No.” He groans. Runs his hands down his face. “Not the vibes part, the—”

“The zombie part?” you whisper.

Just then, the entrance slams open, people pouring into the parking lot. Most are screaming, which prompts you to scream in response, so Namjoon screams too and drops his keys. You’re picking them up before you can think twice, pulling the door open and pushing him inside of the truck. There’s something to be said about the way you manhandle him, how ripped his back feels through the thin fabric of his t-shirt and the view of his ass as he climbs over the center and into the passenger seat, but whatever weird shit is going on takes precedence.

You climb in behind him. Shut the door and lock it, and then you’re rolling down the window to adjust the side mirrors while Namjoon just shoots you an exasperated look. “We don’t have time for this!”

“Do you want us to crash and die? I’ve seen movies like this, okay, and someone always dies some stupid, avoidable death because they forget something obvious.”

“Yeah, it’s usually don’t read the weird Latin incantation in that book or don’t go outside to investigate weird noises, not checking your mirrors!” He pauses. “Hey, wait! They’re not even your mirrors! You’re fucking up all my shit!”

You roll your eyes. “Shut up. I’m getting us out of here.”

During Namjoon’s stunned silence, you turn the ignition and peel out of the parking lot as best you can with one good hand, tailspinning onto the main road, tires squealing. “That was… kind of hot.”

“What, me telling you to shut up or my driving?”

“...Both?”

“I—yeah, that’s fair. You’re big, but you seem like the type to enjoy getting pushed around.” Namjoon stays quiet, and when you dare a glance over at him, his cheeks are red. “Did you get a boner when I punched you?”

That actually gets a laugh out of him. “Don’t go there.” You shrug.

The two of you drive for a while. There’s nothing in the rearview mirror. No one behind you. Really, the world around you seems normal, quiet, still. It almost has you second-guessing everything you’d seen, all the things Namjoon had said. And you don’t know him beyond breaking his nose, but everything in you is screaming to trust him.

So you do.

“Hey, do you mind if we swing by my place? It’s, like, two minutes away, and I should probably grab some stuff.”

Namjoon just shrugs.

Surprisingly, there’s very little time to panic. Namjoon sets about grabbing whatever he can from the kitchen and the bathroom while you shove clothes into a large duffel. You grab your laptop and chargers and Namjoon’s scoff is loud when you ask if you should bring your vibrator, too, but he doesn’t say no, so into the bag it goes.

Hoseok comes home in the midst of your ransacking. You meet him in the living room and, aside from the small look of confusion, he seems much happier to see you than he’d been this morning. “Hi,” he says. Sounds normal, too. Doesn’t sound like he’d seen some weird apocalypse shit outside. “Where is there a tall man in our kitchen shoving all our food into bags?”

“Ah, right, that.” You suck in a breath. “Hobi, go pack up whatever you care about and meet us back here in five minutes. There’s some Train to Busan shit going on and we’ve gotta get moving.”

“Yo, what the fuck!” Namjoon yells from the kitchen. “Are you just saying that because I’m Korean?”

Hoseok had looked dubious before, but seems to fall into blind trust upon hearing the strange, tall man in his kitchen is also Korean. “Hey, me too!” When Namjoon comes skittering into the living room, they shoot matching finger guns at one another and do a weird bro-dap. “Oh!” Hoseok says, recognition blooming. “Are you the guy? The nose guy?”

Namjoon just glares at you.

“That’s him,” you answer instead. “Go pack, please. I��m serious.”

Hoseok is scared of everything: spiders, his shadow, carousel animals, your neighbor’s dog because it’s fifteen years old and blind and lost half its fur. He once had nightmares for a week after you’d made him watch the first Goosebumps movie and insisted on sleeping in your room. Had nightmares again after he saw a particularly sinister Squishmallow at Wal-Mart. So, yeah. It’s imperative you convince him to come with you because he stands no chance on his own.

You don’t expect him to shrug and go off to pack.

“Hey, did one of you grab any ibuprofen?”

“Yeah, got it,” Namjoon replies.

“What about allergy medicine? I get really bad sinus headaches so I’ll be miserable without it, but if it’s too much I guess I could—”

“Pack it,” you shout back.

There’s a loud crash from his room. Another smaller one seconds later. “I’m fine!” he calls out. “Hey, cool! I found a bag of Twizzlers!”

“Hoseok—”

“Bring the Twizzlers, please!” Namjoon says, cheeks warming again. “What? I like them.”

It’s your turn to glare. “If I get eaten over some goddamn Twizzlers.”

“At least you’d be strawberry flavored?” Namjoon offers, as unhelpful as ever. Then, before you can respond, “Hey, man, are you almost ready? I texted my roommate and he’s good to go but I still need to pack up all my shit, too.”

“One sec!”

Approximately fifteen seconds later, Hoseok reappears in your living room with a bookbag, a duffel bag, and an oversized rolling suitcase.

“This isn’t a vacation, Hobi,” you deadpan.

He looks at you like you’re a moron. Fucking stupid but not dumb, you remind yourself. “Okay, but I’m not leaving all my nice clothes here to get eaten by zombie moths or whatever. There’s Off-White in here.”

Namjoon nods in understanding. “Valid.”

It’s not worth the argument. The three of you pile back into Namjoon’s truck, you stuck in the middle of the bench seat this time while Namjoon drives. Hoseok babbles the entire way, seemingly unfazed by this bizarre situation in which you’ve found yourselves. He tells you about the cafe he’d met a friend at, the latte he ordered and didn’t like. You can only tell he’s starting to get nervous because he devolves into more and more unhinged chatter. One second he’s telling you about a dog he saw wearing a little sweater and the next he’s rattling off the digits to his social security number.

“Forget you heard that,” you say to Namjoon.

He looks pained as he replies, “Unfortunately I have a god-tier echoic memory so I am physically incapable of doing that.” He feels your stare. “I’m really sorry, I can’t help it! Tell me something else so I forget it!”

“Okay: I think you’re about to run over that guy.”

Namjoon jerks his eyes back to the road and gasps, hitting the brakes so hard Hobi nearly goes flying into the dashboard. He’s moaning, bitching about his seatbelt probably breaking a few ribs, and the tiny man standing in the road in front of you hasn’t budged an inch. Stared death right in the eye and dared it to take him.

“Fucking Jimin,” Namjoon curses. At both your and Hoseok’s blank stares, he clarifies, “My roommate.”

“Is that seriously your roommate?” Hoseok asks, still pressing against his ribs to check for fractures.

Namjoon, huffing and puffing and finally at a complete stop, just nods. “Yeah.”

Hoseok is finally silent. Then, “That tiny, terrifying little man is your roommate and you managed to get knocked out in a bar fight? What, was he busy that night?”

There’s an obvious reply on the tip of Namjoon’s tongue, but before he can spit it out the tiny man is banging his fist against the window. “I’m gonna fucking kill you!” he screams. “Open the door so I can kill you! Did you not see me? I told you I’d be waiting by the mailbox! I even packed all your shit for you and this is how you repay me, by almost hitting me with your stupid truck? You’re fucking cra—wait, who are these people?”

Hoseok, obviously scared shitless, grimaces as he waves hesitantly. “Hi!” you say, though Namjoon’s roommate probably can’t hear you through the thick glass. “I’m the person who broke his nose!”

Then the roommate is smiling. “Oh, that was you? You look different than I remember.”

When you look to Namjoon for answers, you find him slumped against the steering wheel. “Jimin’s a bartender,” is the only explanation you get.

You look out the window again. Small, but no mint-colored hair. “Ah, I had my suspicions about him. …I think.”

Namjoon cranks down the window just enough to tell Jimin he’ll have to hop in the bed with all the luggage, and then the four of you are off again. There’s one more stop, to Jimin’s boyfriend’s place to pick up him and his roommate, and all you can do is hope one of them has a larger vehicle.

Just like before, this drive is suspiciously unremarkable. You’ve long since resigned yourself to believing Namjoon and what little he’d told you, but you can tell Hoseok’s skeptical. Along for the ride, of course, because there’s always the small chance you hadn’t been lying and then he would’ve been knee-deep in shit, but skeptical nonetheless.

“Can I just ask—are you sure about this?” He’s looking out the window. Looking at all the normal cars and houses and businesses. Nothing about the outside world screams looming zombie apocalypse at all. “It seems pretty quiet.”

Namjoon sighs. Grips the steering wheel a little tighter, knuckles flashing white, but he seems okay. Adrenaline, maybe. It’ll hit later. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

“You saw something?” Hoseok prods.

“I—” He nudges you. “Did you notice how most of the people in the waiting room just seemed to have bad colds? Sneezing, coughing, all that?” You nod. “I didn’t really think anything of it since it’s still flu season, but once I got called back, everything just felt… off.”

He sucks in a breath. Keeps driving. Keeps talking. The nurse who’d taken his vitals seemed exhausted. Cracked some joke about being glad Namjoon was there for a broken nose and not whatever respiratory thing was going around. Told him a doctor would be in shortly to patch him up, and when she left his room she hadn’t shut the door all the way. Left enough of a crack for Namjoon to see what was going on: frazzled nurses and doctors and techs huddled around, panicking. Namjoon thinks someone called for an ambulance.

True to her word, a doctor did come in to pack and splint his nose. Then, in the middle of jotting down the name and phone number of his pharmacy, a scream.

“An old man came in. I saw him when they took me back. He was just sitting on a bed because it was so crowded, wasn’t in a room. I guess at some point he passed out. Didn’t have a pulse. I think he was who they called the ambulance for, but while I was waiting for the doctor I kept hearing this weird moaning.”

Hoseok shudders. “Yeah, I know where this is going.”

“Right. So the doctor comes in, fixes me up, and next thing I know, someone’s screaming. Guess that old dude wasn’t as dead as they thought he was.”

“Could they have been wrong?” you ask tentatively. It’s so quiet outside, maybe everyone had just—

“No,” Namjoon says, and he does it with so much conviction you don’t argue further. Jimin bangs on the back windshield, holding his phone up to it so you can see.

It’s all over Twitter. Not even Facebook, where you’d expect a zombie apocalypse conspiracy to begin. No, there are posts all over Twitter and Instagram and even the local news station’s website. Hoseok looks a little green.

“Okay, so it’s definitely real and this is definitely happening,” you mutter. “Does anyone have a plan?”

There’s no plan.

Not even in a hyperbolic, we say we have no plan, but somehow we’ve conveniently got a small arsenal of weapons, kind of way. There’s simply no plan.

Jimin’s boyfriend is named Taehyung. They have a needlessly tearful reunion, and you wait in Taehyung’s tiny kitchen for twenty minutes while he packs. He’s roommates with the mint-haired bartender that you like. His name is Yoongi. He has all his stuff packed and waiting by the front door, and you like him so much more for it.

“Should I pack condoms?” Taehyung yells from his bedroom.

“Are you fucking ser—” Yoongi starts, then seems to come to a realization. “Yeah. Yes, you absolutely should.”

“‘Kay! Be out in a sec!”

Namjoon appears then, in the midst of shoving his battered phone in his pocket. He looks around the room, taking stock, and his eyebrows knit in confusion. Fuck, he’s so hot and you’re taking the express train to hell for thinking it. “Hey, has anyone seen Jimin?”

Jimin and Taehyung are gone. There are weird noises coming from the direction of Taehyung’s room. Yoongi looks positively haunted. “Sorry!” Jimin calls out. “Be out in a sec!”

“Tae said that exact thing five minutes ago!”

“Are you calling him a liar?” Jimin yells back. Sounds genuinely angry and genuinely prepared to defend Taehyung’s honor. You’ve never met a tinier, scarier person.

“I’m calling you both zombie food!”

Hoseok sidles up next to you. “Is it just me or is that other tiny man really hot?”

“His name’s Yoongi,” you tell him.

Hoseok just sighs, like he’s carrying all of the world’s burdens on his thin shoulders. “I’m learning a lot about myself.”

You watch him mentally tabulate through all the stages of grief while Namjoon and Yoongi think up a plan. Namjoon’s large but clumsy and mostly useless, and Yoongi is small and deadly. You can hold your own, they decide, so Yoongi adopts Hoseok and Namjoon becomes your problem.

“Wait a second,” Hoseok almost wails. “Why can’t I stay with her? She’s my roommate!”

Yoongi looks offended. Probably is. “You don’t think I can defend you?”

Hoseok flushes crimson. “I-I didn’t say that…”

He’s halfway through a stuttered, awkward apology when Jimin and Taehyung appear, not at all looking like they’d just been getting off together. Sure, Jimin’s hair is a little mussed, but Taehyung—

Taehyung is only holding a box.

Yoongi pinches the bridge of his nose. “Taehyung.”

“Please don’t use that tone of voice with me,” Taehyung whines. “You know this is my emotional support jigsaw puzzle.”

“All you’re bringing is a jigsaw puzzle?”

“And condoms!”

“You’re not bringing any clothes? Medicine? Food?” Namjoon asks, because he might not be the oldest but he has the most overworked single mother energy out of all of you. “Jimin, go help him pack a bag of clothes, at least. Yoongi, can you grab any extra house stuff and toiletries you have laying around? Laundry detergent, soap, shampoo.”

Taehyung scoffs, sound dissipating as he disappears back down the hallway. “We can just steal that stuff.”

Hoseok looks like he’s about to pass out. “I am not turning into a criminal!”

He does.

You all do.

The six of you pile into two separate vehicles—you and Hoseok with Namjoon again in his truck, and Jimin and Taehyung behind you in Yoongi’s beater car. The plan is to drive to Namjoon’s cousin’s house in the middle of nowhere and bunker down there for a while. It’s plenty big—“His parents are politicians, so he’s got money,” was Namjoon’s explanation—and far enough outside of the city that it should buy you enough time to come up with something better.

Step one, though: Wal-Mart.

“Don’t worry, I steal from here all the time,” Taehyung says, breezing to the front of the pack like he’s leading the rest of you into war. Yoongi throws his hands up. Jimin looks lovestruck.

Hoseok hangs back by the cars, still traumatized from the Squishmallow experience, and you stay with him. You’ve seen Zombieland, and you won’t be able to do much fighting with a broken hand. At best you’d be able to fire a gun or whack someone with a pipe, but you’re not trying to go kamikaze mode on some innocent bastard in a Wal-Mart who’s also just trying to survive.

You’ve known Hoseok for a long time—since your sophomore year of college, when he was failing the stats class you shared and you took pity on him and offered some tutoring—so you’ve seen him in various states of distress. You know all of his tells, and the way he’s gnawing at his cuticles is a glaring one.

“Hobi, hey,” you say, moving to gently pull his hand away from his mouth. “Try to relax, okay? Don’t make yourself bleed.”

“I feel like I’m gonna be sick,” he replies. Anguish is clear on his face. “Everything feels fucking overwhelming and scary.”

“I know. I know it does, but if we’re gonna get through this we’re gonna need you, all right?” He nods but he’s shaking, still looking tormented and green around the edges. You pull him into a hug that has him nearly sagging in defeat.

Slowly, your shoulder grows wet and warm. Hoseok’s crying, body shaking from the weight of all his fear, and all you can do is hold him. “You’re my best friend, Hoseok,” you whisper into his hair. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

You feel him nod. Then, in the smallest voice, “Yoongi too?”

Figures. Hoseok’s a horny little demon at the best of times—the thin walls of your apartment can attest to that—so it makes sense that impending doom would exacerbate it. “Sure, Hobi,” you assure him, scratching softly at his scalp.

You get him calmed down. Tucked into the backseat of Yoongi’s car so he can lay down. He’s asleep not long after, fatigue finally catching up, and you just stay. Park your ass at the edge of the seat, leave the door open, waiting. There’s a gentle, warm breeze, and you wish you could bottle it. Wish you could do more in this moment than just experience it, because it’s the last chance you’ll have at something resembling normalcy.

You might never be able to hug Hoseok in a parking lot again.

“We’re back!”

You look up, not at all surprised to see Taehyung skipping towards you, arms full of stolen goods. “I see that. What’d you get?”

“Oh, a lot of stuff,” he answers. Yoongi pops the trunk of his car and they set about shoving it all inside. “It was packed in there! Felt like Black Friday, except everyone was fighting over bread instead of ultra hi-def TVs.”

Wary, you look over your motley crew. “Are you all okay?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi answers, voice gruff. “It was mostly civilized. Don’t think people really realize what’s going on yet. Is Hoseok sleeping?”

You nod. “He, uh—had a moment? He got really upset, so he’s sleeping it off… if that’s okay?”

Yoongi just shrugs. “Yeah, whatever. Who’s riding with me?”

“Me,” Jimin says. “I’m not taking the bitch seat in the truck.” Taehyung immediately pouts, some unspoken bond clearly broken now, and Jimin scoffs. “Don’t pout at me. You know my ass requires a full seat.”

“But—”

Namjoon pointedly slams Yoongi’s trunk closed. Hoseok doesn’t stir an inch. “Jin’s expecting us so we need to get moving. Taehyung, shut up and get in the truck.” Then, to you: “Guess you’re with me again.”

Fine by you, especially since Namjoon ripped the sleeves off his shirt.

Not even Namjoon’s arms can salvage this drive.

Taehyung fiddles with the radio the whole time. Flips between radio stations that are all depressing carbon copies of one another. Complains that Namjoon’s truck is too old to have a CD player and that he doesn’t know how to work cassette tapes. Complains endlessly about Namjoon’s driving, too, although you can’t really blame him for that one.

“Hey,” he eventually says, elbowing you a little too hard in your side. “I don’t wanna be rude or anything, but—”

Namjoon tries to snort and immediately regrets it. “I don’t wanna be rude or anything, but I’m about to say something extremely rude.”

“I was not!” Taehyung defends, but when you quirk an eyebrow at him to continue, he says, “Are you willing to sacrifice yourself for me and Jimin in the unlikely event that the three of us are cornered by a zombie and are facing imminent death and only two will survive? Because I think you should be.”

You blink. “Um.”

“It just makes the most sense logically,” he continues, as if he hadn’t just volunteered you to be a zombie chew toy. “Jimin and I are soulmates. Platonic and romantic. And you’re—” He pauses. “Um. New. And Jimin might not look like it because he’s small, but he’s scrappy and can easily protect me, which means you’re redundant. Not to mention your hand is broken, so.”

You study him. “So, what are you bringing to the table?” you ask. Taehyung looks at you like you’re stupid. “I’m just saying, if Jimin and I can both defend ourselves, why wouldn’t we team up in the name of long-term survival and ditch the weakest link, which would be you?”

Namjoon laughs loudly beside you. His whole body shakes with it, a sound somewhere between a guffaw and a dog panting, and it’s a nice contrast to the death glare Taehyung’s sending you. “Jimin wouldn’t do that to me.”

“People are unpredictable when they’re staring death in the face.”

Taehyung’s silent the rest of the way.

It hurts to admit it, but you’re rethinking your all-politicians-are-evil, eat-the-rich stance, because it starts like—

(Seokjin’s parents’ place is truly in the middle of nowhere and safeguarded to the nth degree, harder to get close to than Area 51. The house itself is deceptively large and modern, clapped in black-stained red cedar. Single-level. Expansive windows you’d thought were an oversight until you got closer and realized they were made of armored glass.

“Shit, is all of this really necessary?” you ask, stepping inside. There’s definitely insider trading going on here. “Are these people on the goddamn Supreme Court?”

“That’s not funny,” Namjoon says.

“Are you sure? Because I’m pretty sure that”—you point to a nondescript door with an ominous symbol on it—”is some kind of rich people bomb shelter and the only politicians I know that would require this level of security are the I just voted to strip half the country of the ability to make their own reproductive decisions kind.”

Namjoon chokes.

“Gross,” a voice chimes from behind you. “Please don’t debase and sully my parents’ good name by even joking that they’re conservatives.”

Jesus, is everyone in this family stupidly attractive? The man before you is shorter than Namjoon but still tall, legs as long as his shoulders are wide. Hair styled neat but dyed blond. Kind eyes and plush lips, and there’s the Kim family resemblance.

“Hi, I’m Seokjin,” he says, offering you his hand. Definitely raised in a family of politicians. “I hear you’re the one who broke my cousin’s nose.”

“I, uh, might’ve done that, yeah.”

Seokjin smiles. “Cool. Welcome. Please make yourself at home and we’ll chat strategy later.”)

Which becomes—

(Later turns into days.

For the most part, life proceeds normally. Seokjin gets periodic updates from his parents who have left the country entirely—(“Damn, they just left you here?” someone asks, and that’s how you meet Jungkook)—about the government response, or lack thereof, along with whatever useless psychobabble the CDC is sending out. None of it bodes well for the future, so you spend most of your time trying to stay in the present. Right now, you’re okay. Right now, you’re with a group of people hellbent on staying alive. Right now, you have enough food and shelter in a house in the middle of nowhere with armored glass windows and a bomb shelter.

The eight of you eat meals together and play games and talk about your Before lives. You already knew Namjoon worked at a nonprofit and that Jimin and Yoongi owned a bar, but you learn Taehyung was in grad school for art therapy. Hoseok, of course, split his time between the dance studio and the streetwear boutique his sister owned. Seokjin was some bigwig corporate attorney.

Jungkook, of all things, played minor league baseball.

Needless to say there won’t be any scientific breakthroughs from any of you.

“I was supposed to go pro this year,” Jungkook huffs, forcefully grabbing the microphone for the karaoke machine. He’s been singing “I Will Survive” by Gloria Gaynor for four days.

All things considered, you somehow managed to fall into the best possible outcome, even if one of Taehyung or Jimin still tries to convince you to sacrifice yourself at least six times a day.)

Which culminates in the one possible downside—

“Yoongi wants Hoseok to move into my room,” Namjoon says, appearing in the doorway of your (now-solo, apparently) room. He takes up nearly the entire frame. It makes you feel a little lightheaded.

“Oh,” you reply stupidly. “Okay. Are you here for his stuff?”

“No, I’m here to ask if I can move in with you. I’m not really interested in spending the rest of the zombie apocalypse third-wheeling.”

Sarcasm seems like your best defense. “Wow, after all we’ve been through. We’ve got a real enemies to lovers vibe going on. I’m pretty into it.”

Namjoon flushes down to his toes. “Haaa, what? We’re—that’s not—we’re not even lovers yet.”

You give him a second, but he doesn’t seem to realize what he’s said, so you can’t help but smirk, to press on the bruise just to watch him squeal. “Yet?”

Now he turns full-on crimson. “That’s not what I meant.”

Somehow he’s still cute, even with the yellow-green bruising beneath his eyes and his sheepish, hunched posture. Namjoon is the kind of guy that makes you feel bold, makes you want to mess him up, but he’s also the kind of cute that has you relenting, easing off.

“Sure,” you finally say. “You can move your stuff in here.”

He smiles, dimples flashing, and he’s only gone a few minutes so you have no time to catch your breath before he’s back, dumping his clothes on the bed to put them in the dresser. He doesn’t mention sleeping arrangements because there’s no point: all of the bedrooms have single, queen-sized beds. Naturally, you and Hoseok had bunked together with little fuss, having fallen asleep in each other’s beds a million times after years spent living together. You assume it’d been the same for Namjoon and Yoongi and their decades of friendship.

You’d joked about being enemies to lovers; clearly you’d chosen the wrong trope.

“How’s your nose?” you ask, wordlessly moving to help sort and refold the t-shirts as best you can. They smell nice: something soft and clean and inherently Namjoon.

“Still sore,” he answers. Says a small thank you when you push a stack of black tees towards him. “Jungkook’s been helping me with the packing.”

“He’s had a lot of broken noses?”

“He’s had a lot of broken everything.”

It hits you, then, how much of an outsider you are. That the six of them are all connected, have history. And Namjoon must notice, because he grows serious. Gets shy all over again when he says, “Hey, we’re all glad you and Hoseok are here.”

You snort. “Yeah, as a sacrifice.”

Namjoon laughs a little, too. “Taehyung’s only so insistent because he’s useless. He accidentally stepped on a stink bug once and cried. He’s not really built for something like this.”

“Are any of us?”

“You are, I think,” he says immediately, no hesitation. “You’ve been really calm, haven’t panicked at all. It’s helped me a lot—all of us, really.”

Oh, you’re embarrassed. “I have to be, living with someone like Hobi.” Why are you embarrassed? “One time he saw the red light on the coffee machine and slept in my room for a week because he thought there was a demon in our apartment.”

Namjoon can’t help himself. “Was there?”

You sigh, over-dramatic and theatrical. “No, just me.”

He laughs, loud and unashamed, but it sounds a lot more like everything’s going to be fine.

Hoseok had been a cuddler.

You’d always wake up with him wound around you like a snake, limbs akimbo as he snored quietly. But, like all things Hoseok did and does, there was grace in it. He kept a normal body temperature. He didn’t hog too much of the bed or the duvet. He didn’t kick you or elbow you in the side of the head. Aside from the cuddling, which has never really been your thing, Hoseok was a perfect bed-sharing partner.

The same cannot be said for Namjoon.

His broken nose has him snoring at obscene levels. It doesn’t lessen when you shove a pillow over your head, either, which is not the way you fantasized about going lightheaded in bed with him. Not to mention his stupidly large body is stupidly large and requires a lot of space. What had started as a clean split down the middle has you grasping to the edge, trying desperately not to fall off. Every time you try to inch closer to the center, Namjoon unconsciously protests and sends elbows flying, and arms that size can do a lot of damage. He sleeps so hot you always wake up in a thin sheen of sweat just from the proximity.

You’re not sure you sleep at all for the first three days.

And then things start to shift. Like your roommate, Namjoon is a cuddler too, but in vastly different ways. Hoseok’s would be subconscious—he never dared to touch you when he was awake out of respect for boundaries and personal space, but Namjoon doesn’t have those hangups. He climbs into bed one night and immediately fits himself to your back before asking if it’s okay, and yeah, of course it is. You couldn’t have waterboarded Hoseok into touching you purposely the way Namjoon does casually, so unthinking, just does what he wants.

It makes you ache.

So you become sleepless for other, new reasons.

His snoring lessens, gives way to these breathy little sounds that border on soft moans. Still obscene. He stops forcing you to the edge of the mattress and instead presses you into it, the weight of his massive body leaving you with nowhere else to go. Every time he touches you, either knowingly or not, he leaves trails of heat in his wake.

Even in sleep, Namjoon is a tease.

Sometimes his hands will drift—too close, too far, both simultaneously—and you feel your breath hitch, wondering if he’s awake, if he’s doing it on purpose. Sometimes you wake up with him wrapped around you, hard cock pressing into your ass, the small of your back. Sometimes he’ll rut once, twice, and come to and disappear to the opposite side of the bed in shame and embarrassment, leaving you frustrated and pretending to be asleep.

Because you’re not… sure.

You know you’re attracted to Namjoon. You know he’s some degree of attracted to you in return. But the outside world is so volatile, the situation you’re in so unstable, that you’re afraid to push. Afraid the delicate house of cards will come tumbling down, that you two will fuck to get it out of your systems and make things horribly awkward, ruin the good thing you’ve got going.

But you can only take so much, is the thing. There’s a very large man with a very large cock at your back and you’ve had enough of this game.

“Namjoon,” you say, rolling in his arms so you’re face to face. You poke him in the stomach when he doesn’t stir. “Namjoon.”

He jolts awake, hands immediately moving to you—checking that you’re still there, that you’re safe. “Wha’?” he slurs, voice thick with sleep, deeper than you’ve ever heard it. “Wha’ happened?”

Now you feel awkward. He’s concerned with your safety in the midst of a fucking apocalypse and you’re just horny. Still, sometimes the only way out is through, so you blurt out, “Do you want to fuck me?”

That grabs his attention. He’s fully awake now, propped up on one elbow, gazing down at you like you’ve completely lost your mind. Fucking stupid but not dumb, like a mantra. “Uh.” He pauses. Swallows. Pushes sweaty hair off his forehead. “Did—did you, uh, get bit? Are you feeling okay?”

You glare, though it’s useless in the dark. “I’m fine. How’s your dick?” You dare a glance downward. Still hard is the answer.

Namjoon embarrasses easily in a way that is both horribly endearing and horribly inconvenient, because instead of feeding you some greasy line like want to find out? he’s reaching down to adjust himself in his sleep shorts, stumbling over apologies as he goes. “Shit, fuck, I’m so sorry, this is so awkward, I’m sorry—”

“Can you answer my question, please?”

Namjoon stills. Puts that giant brain to use. “Um. Which one? You asked me two.”

“Well, I can clearly see that your dick is still very hard, so let’s start with the first one.”

There’s a sound that you think is meant to sound like a laugh. A pained a-haaa that sounds more like Namjoon begging for divine intervention in the form of death. “The, uh, doIwanttofuckyou question?”

“That would be the one, yes.”

“Is… is there a wrong answer?”

“No.”

He nods, tongue darting out to wet his lips. It’s lewd, a cruel and unusual punishment for your fleeting moment of horny delirium. Gets even worse when he tugs the plush bottom one between his teeth, staring at you all the while. Sizing you up, it feels like. Deciding between what he wants to do and what he’s actually going to do.

Just like the last week of your life, everything goes from zero to one hundred in a split-second.

“Do you wanna talk about this first?” he asks. You’re just staring at one another and he already sounds fucked out. Obscene.

“What’s there to talk about?”

He reaches for you. Two fingers beneath your chin and a thumb on the hinge of your jaw to keep you where he wants you. “What you want.” Leans in, his lips so close to your ear. “What you don’t.”

Around you, the world narrows. Nothing exists outside of this bed. Not the weird house in the middle of the woods. Not the apocalypse. Not a goddamn thing except Namjoon and his big hands and the way he’s touching you. “Tell me what you want,” he says, words skimming along the column of your throat, “and I’ll do it.”

You wonder if he’s talking about big-picture shit or just sex. If he’s someone who needs something concrete to hold onto before he fucks or if it even matters anymore. Would he still want to sleep with you if you’d met under different circumstances that night at the bar, or is it just something to pass the time while you wait out the end of the world?

Although, you feel like the world might end if you don’t finally fuck this man, so maybe it doesn’t matter.

“I’m clean and I have an IUD I’ll have to figure out how to remove in three years if I live that long. I’m down for mostly anything as long as you ask first but I draw the line at most bodily fluids. Oh, also—don’t kiss me if your tongue goes anywhere near my ass. I think that’s it, though. What about you?”

Momentarily stunned, Namjoon’s hands stop moving. “I’ve never eaten ass before.”

“Oh. I mean, we totally can if you want to, but—really?”

“Why do you sound so surprised?”

“Because your lips are pornographic,” you admit, completely void of shame. “Like, you have the kind of mouth that looks like it’s done a lot of dirty things.”

Namjoon laughs. “You also said I look like I like getting pushed around.”

You cock an eyebrow. “Do you?”

He’s growing bold. His response is a low chuckle, more vibration than anything, and he reaches for you again. Seems like he can’t keep his hands off of you, needs to be touching you always, even before when it was harmless, and this time he goes for your hips. Fits his large hands to your waist, the tops of your thighs, presses his thumbs into your hip bones. “Most people don’t try.”

“Yeah, that tracks,” you reply dazedly.

His lips move to your neck, trace the neckline of your sleep shirt, dip below to nip at your collarbone. “Where’s your hand, baby?” he speaks into your skin. Finds what he’s looking for and pins your arm above your head, gently like you’ll break. You think you might. “You can push me around when you’re healed. Can I kiss you?”

You must nod, because Namjoon drags his lips from your throat to your jaw to the corner of your mouth, and then he’s pressing them to your own. This is gentle too, Namjoon careful with his own injury, and it’s not lost on you that this is your fault. You’re not going to get the filthy, primal fucking you want because you’d thrown a punch in a bar, but this isn’t a bad consolation prize, you think.

Because Namjoon is good at this. He’s easy to rile up but rock-solid once he pushes past it. And, sure, he kisses you gently, but he means it. Whimpers into your mouth like you’re doing him a favor, and you think you might be able to do this, just this, forever.

Your free hand fists the thin cotton of his shirt as he licks into your mouth. It should be gross, because it’s the middle of the night and you no longer have the luxury of your favorite toothpaste, but you find it hard to care when he drops his weight, that massive body of his pressing into you, against you in all the right ways. This time it’s you who whines, and it’s a small sound but it seems to drive Namjoon a little crazy.

“Wanna hear you,” he says, pulling back, and you’re about to ask him what that means, if he just wants you to start moaning like some bad porn, but then he’s grabbing your leg to wrap it around his waist and pressing his hips to you harder.

“Oh fuck,” you sigh. Even through his sleep shorts you can tell he’s big—big and really fucking hard. Forget a zombie apocalypse, you’re not sure you’ll survive this right here.

What Namjoon wants, Namjoon gets. You’re unabashed as he grinds his cock against your core, careless about your volume. You’ve suffered through almost everyone in this house either fucking or jerking off, and you can take a little ribbing, so you’re going to enjoy this. What’s the point in modesty if you’re all going to die, anyway?

So you just keep babbling, words spilling out of your mouth before you can filter them, writhing and whining all the while. “I know, baby,” Namjoon says, hands all over, mouth not far behind. “Keep going,” he urges, hands to your hips to move you the way he wants.

“Thigh,” you say, barely able to get the word out of your mouth with the way he’s moving against you. “Wan-wanna ride your thigh.”

He keens. “Shit, yeah, okay.”

Namjoon fucks like it’s the end of the world.

You get off on his thigh but he deems it not enough. Strips you bare and situates himself between your legs. Puts that sinful mouth to use and gets you off again. Asks you when the last time you had sex was and laughs at your answer, all condescending heat, and he uses the slick from you and his mouth to stretch you on three of his fingers.

You’re going to ruin this man’s hair once you have two working hands. Maybe just ruin him in general.

The build-up is dizzying. One second he’s slow and sensual, content to take you apart, continuously bring you to the edge just to yank you back—and the next is all feral urgency. He can’t make you come, can’t kick his shorts off, can’t peel his briefs down those thick thighs fast enough.

“Will you ride me?” he asks, so intent on taking your one rule to heart. As long as you ask first. But some things don’t need to be questioned, like when Hobi asks if you want to take an edible and watch the Spice Girls movie and will you sit on Namjoon’s massive dick.

You huff, already halfway in his lap. “Clown question, bro.”

As you sink down onto him, you understand why he’d laughed when you said it’d been awhile, why he got a little cocky. Three fingers hadn’t been anywhere near enough, but the stretch, the overwhelming fullness, is delicious.

“I was go—ah, fuck—gonna suggest you don’t ca-call me bro, but I don’t think I care when you feel this fucking good.”

“Yeah?” you stupidly ask, and you’re usually better at dirty talk, but there’s not much you can do when all of your brainpower is going towards riding the best cock you’ve ever had in your life. “Tell me.”

Namjoon moans, grips your hips to move you again. Back and forth at a steady, torturous pace. “Baby,” he whines. “Feels like one of those wa-water wiggler toys—”

Okay, so clearly neither of you are at your best right now.

And that’s how it goes. You brace yourself on Namjoon’s chest, nails of your good hand digging into his pec, your broken one held in his. Time seems to drag on forever and stop all at once, and you’re oversensitive and admittedly a little in pain and a lot exhausted so you’re probably not going to come again, but you find yourself dangerously close watching Namjoon chase his own orgasm.

Head tilted back, neck on display, mouth dropped open. You want to shove your fingers inside, so you do.

He comes immediately.

Namjoon kisses you as the two of you come down, whispering more praise in between each one. Tells you how good you are, how beautiful, that he’s glad you broke his nose. Then he realizes the dumb thing that has come out of his mouth and pauses, looking confused and delicate. He’s so cute you kiss him first this time.

And then you pull back and realize he’s got blood all over his face, gushing from the nose he’s so glad you broke, and he’s out of the bed and into the bathroom before you can blink.

“You can’t do that, we’re soulmates!”

Jimin scoffs, placing the Robber on Taehyung’s hex tile anyway, ruthless as he watches his boyfriend miserably discard half his hand. “Your fault for building a city there. I’m coming for your ore tile next.”

You roll your lips to keep from laughing. You hadn’t expected the house’s sardonically-named Royal Couple to be on the brink of disaster twenty minutes into a game of Catan, but you’re safe for now in your small part of the world, surrounded by all of these people you’ve come to love, Namjoon especially, so you’ll take all the manufactured, external drama you can get.

“Told you he’d turn on you, Tae,” you chime. He gives you the finger. “You can’t trust Libra men.”

“What about virgins!” Jungkook calls from the kitchen, where Yoongi has convinced him to drink tequila and brandy to see if he can get him to punch Namjoon, too, and Seokjin laughs so hard he looks like he’s about to keel over and die.

Yeah, you think you’re going to be fine.

#bts imagines #bts fic #namjoon fic #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #namjoon imagine #btswritingcafe #thebtswritersclub #btshoneyhive #bts smut #bts scenarios

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borathae · 2 years

Text

↳ Index [Day 25 - Rough Sex]

Pairing: Domish!Jimin x f.Reader

Kinks: sex in nature (by a river), rough!! sex, Bratty Switching, hair pulling, scratching, muscle kink, strength kink, he rips her clothes, degradation, dirty talk, some spanking, clothed pussy rubbing, standing doggy against some rocks, creampies, orgasm denial, overstimulation, multiple orgasms (m.receiving), squirting, cuddly aftercare, this is also make up sex btw

Wordcount: 5.1k

a/n: so uhm surprise besties hahahah this is a zombie apocalypse story. listen, i don’t know why this request inspired this setting but it did. i'm having so much fun exploring different aus which i wasn’t really brave enough to post about on here yet and a zombie apocalypse story has been on my mind since the dawn of day. have fun besties jfadsjf ❤

“Hey.”

Jungkook turns upon hearing your voice. He sharpened his axe before, but stops when he sees you.

“Hey”, he answers you, watching you stand over him.

“You uhm”, you clear your throat, “did you see where he went?”

“Yeah, he went down to the river to train”, Jungkook answers you.

“Thanks. I’ll uhm, try to talk to him.”

“Yeah do that”, Jungkook says and gives you a little smile.

“Mhm”, you acknowledge him, turning to leave.

“And boss?”

“Yeah?” you stop, looking over your shoulder.

“You were right. Last night I mean. You were right.”

You give him a smile, “thank you Kook, that means a lot.”

Jungkook gives you a nod of his head and finally continues sharpening his axe. You turn to leave for the river.

Ten years ago, you all lived a different life. You and Jimin were planning to get married. Your shared best friend Jungkook was an upcoming singer, while your other friends Namjoon and Yoongi already produced music. Seokjin was planning to start a career in acting while Taehyung already was a very popular actor. And Hoseok was quite busy choreographing dances for the biggest stars in the world. Stuff like stars, celebrities and normal everyday life long stopped existing after an incurable outbreak of what is known as “The Zombie Disease” these days. Very creative name, yes yes we all know, but it at least gets straight to the point.

The virus infects the brain and turns whatever living organism it latched onto into a flesh-hungry, braindead and rotting zombie. Animals and humans alike. The humans fought the monsters at first, but soon the fighting began between them as well. Food became scarce, different morals came up and greed for power rose in a few heads.

You and your friends were lucky, escaping the big cities before the military bombed them in an attempt to stop the civil wars. It resulted in two thirds of the still healthy population dying in fires and explosions and for the military to lose its last spark of respect. They are hunted these days. By everyone.

You lived in the forests since two winters, hidden from remaining civilization and avoiding the hoards of zombies in your tree house fortresses with fifty other survivors. The eight of you were the real deal however, the ones who've been through it all. The leaders of the whole pack so to speak. You’ve been here since day one and will always be here until something out there kills you.

You were the leader of your little group. You weren’t the oldest and maybe also not the strongest, but you were a survivor. Your left arm still carried the marks of where you had to burn off bite marks an especially friendly zombie family left just three days into the outbreak. Your right eye still saw worse after a showdown with five heavily armed soldiers. And your nights were still plagued by nightmares of when you had to shoot your own brother in the head after zombies got him right in the throat. You knew what was out there. You actually knew. And that’s why you were their leader. Why they listen to you, follow your guidance and respect your decisions. Everyone except your stubborn partner of course.

Contrary to what Jungkook told you, the training spot next to the reeds is empty. You look around for a moment. There are footsteps in the fine gravel, they look fresh, the depth and length of them fit perfectly to Jimin’s bare feet. You follow them with your eyes. They are leading over to the high rocks just twenty feet to your left. That’s where your washing spot was. So Jimin must be cleaning himself right now.

You walk to the hidden spot. Soon the splashing of water and a clear singing voice can be heard. You stop. It’s been ages since you last heard him sing. He sounds beautiful. This song. You recognize the melody. It’s Your Song. The song you always listened to when the world was still okay.

You gulp, biting the inside of your cheek in order not to get emotional. God, you stupid woman. You feel awful for last night.

You and Jimin had a pretty big fight last night over whether or not you should expand your lands or not. You said that it would be beneficial for growing more crops, while Jimin insisted that extending the borders would ask for too much trouble. The others were present during your fight, trying to diffuse the situation as best as possible, but you still ended up going to bed angry at each other.

The rocks are shielding most of his singing, making it appear quiet to your ears. You want to hear more of it. You need to see him.

You cross the corner. There he is. Standing in the stream and with his back turned to you and his naked butt on full display. You are too immersed in staring at his behind that you don’t notice the stick lying on the ground right in front of your feet. You take a step.

Crack.

Jimin snaps around, instantly getting into position to fight despite his naked state. His eyes are dark, filled with the desire to kill. His clenched fists shield his face, his strong feet standing broad on the gravel ground.

You stop, tensing up yourself, ready to defend yourself should Jimin in his shock decide to jump you. To your luck however, he relaxes again, lowering his fists and releasing the tension in his muscles. He studies you from head to toe, eyes filled with both sad yearning and slight annoyance.

“You know not to sneak up on me. I could have punched you”, he says, sliding his hand down to cover his exposed dick, “what are you even doing here? Are you watching me bathe? That’s creepy”, he raises one of his eyebrows in judgment.

You snort, “first of all, I’ve seen your dick a million times before and second of all, no I didn’t, I was actually trying to look for you. I didn’t expect you to be naked.”

“That’s our washing spot. What else did you expect me to do here? Squats?” he asks and cracks up at his own joke.

“Very funny”, you roll your eyes at him, trying your hardest not to snicker at his stupid joke. You sneak a glance at his dick again.

Jimin notices, lips curling into a little smirk.

“So you did want to watch me. Damn, I even didn’t know that you had a thing for voyeurism”, he teases, relaxing his hands around his dick just to show it off.

“Oh shut up, you know exactly that I do”, you throw back, eyes focused on his crotch.

His hands are opening further and further, exciting you more and more.

“I know you do” his left hand slips away, “besides, I think we both know that there is still some making-up to do”, his right hand slips away, exposing him completely.

“Jimin, what are you insinuating?” you ask, staring at his fingers around his cock.

“An apology. Isn’t that obvious?” he states nonchalantly, before he takes a step forward, closer to you.

“An apology?"

“Yeah”, he nods his head, “you were right. We should think about how we can feed ourselves. Especially now that Charley and Kate are pregnant and we got those five new recruits. Our encampment is growing and we need more space for crops and ultimatively for housing too. You were right.”

“Yes, but I can see your point too. Growing our borders is risky and we need to make sure the areas we claim are clean. We lost too many guys last July trying to claim this fucking sawmill. I get that you’re weary.”

Jimin nods his head.

“I just”, he steps closer, “I just don’t wanna fucking lose you. You know?”

“Lose me? Why me?” you ask in a laugh.

“Because you’re reckless, that’s why. And I know that you would be dumb enough to throw yourself into danger for the sake of the others and I can’t fucking let you do that”, he says, placing his hand on your arm right where your burn scar stretches. You took those bites in Jimin’s stead ten years ago and then ordered him to use a blowtorch to burn them off. Jimin can still hear your screams at night.

You feel every ounce of anger you still had left for him crumble like a cookie. You smile fondly, reaching out to poke his tummy.

“You old sap”, you say.

Jimin laughs, eyes crinkling up and cheeks puffing out.

“So? I’m an old sap and I’m proud of it.”

“Yeah”, you chuckle, “and I love you for it.”

“I love you too, you know?” he says.

“Yeah, I know”, you assure him, sneaking a glance down at his body, “I can’t believe you had this whole conversation with your dick out”, you say in a chuckle.

“I know”, he grins, “do you like the view?” he taunts, wiggling his hips a little.

“Jimin, behave.”

“No”, he throws back, wiggling even more.

“What if someone sees us?”

Jimin chuckles, inching closer to you. He is a mere step away from touching you. Your skin tingles in anticipation, your stomach tightens in excitement.

“As if you would mind”, he rasps.

You clench your jaw in a last attempt to stop yourself from giving in to your urges. You look up from his crotch to stare into his eyes instead. They are glimmering in arousal, watching you through hooded lids.

“So? Do you wanna accept my apology and let me fuck it okay again?” he asks, giving you sweet puppy eyes.

You gulp, hands landing on his pecs and body drawing closer. He smirks triumphantly, knowing already that he had won you over. He just needed to take that last step separating the two of you. Just one more step and you would be his’.

“Come closer and find out”, you challenge, accepting your fate. Not that it was hard to accept of course. Oh how you want him. Fighting with him always makes you crave him especially hard.

“Yeah? How hard do you want it?”

“As hard as you can give it to me, baby.”

“Fuck baby…”

Having your consent, Jimin charges forward. He grabs your face, pulling you onto his mouth. His kiss is rough, all teeth and tongue. He sucks and bites your lower lip until desperate moans escape your throat. Your fingers are entangled in his wet hair, pulling at them in vigor. He groans, the pain of your rough handling spurring him on even more. You both need it, need to remind the other that you were a fucking team. It’s the hottest pain, leaving the both of you whining and moaning in despair, but it is all the more addicting, filling you up with the desire to fuck the other like a wild animal.

You pull away, a bundle of his hair sits securely in your fingers so you can tolt his head back.

His puffy lips part, releasing shaky breaths. His dark eyes watch you with cocky confidence glistening in them.

“I fucking want you like nothing else”, you growl, pulling at his hair.

He groans deeply, letting his head get pulled back. It exposes his thick neck. Oh how you would love to bury your teeth in his skin, make him whine and squirm in your hands.

“I want you more”, Jimin retorts, tightening his fingers on your jaw until it stings.

You both fall silent, your heavy pants and the rushing of the river the only thing hanging in the air. You are staring at each other. Both of you are desperate, aching for the other’s touch, but your pride holds you back. You will not be the one losing today, not this time.

“Stop lying”, you growl, traveling your free hand over his chest.

It is cold under your touch, the water having cooled it down. Jimin takes a shaky inhale, eyelids fluttering in desperation. Your touch feels like fire on his skin, leaving him aching for more.

“I’m not lying. I want you more than you do me”, he insists, earning himself a twist of his hair. He moans, cock growing harder.

“Be quiet”, you grumble, dancing your hand further down his torso to trace every inch of his toned stomach. The years of fighting and training really paid of. His stomach is rock hard, his abs looking as if they were sculpted by gods. They must have been cruel gods, judging by the state they abandoned the world in.

“I’ll fuck you like a goddess”, he rasps, earning himself scratch marks down his happy trail.

“I’d like to see you try”, you challenge.

“Let go of my hair and I’ll show you”, he retorts. His voice sounds confident. One might think that your teasing touch doesn’t affect him if it weren’t for his ragged breathing and rapidly growing boner.

“Jimin”, you breathe, making your voice sound pitying, “we both know that’s not possible”, you stop your hand on his hips right next to his hardened cock. You feel him tense up, his lips part and a shaky moan manages to escape his throat.

You smirk triumphantly, relaxing the grip on his hair now that he had surrendered to you. Or so you thought. The moment his hair is free from your touch, Jimin launches forward, attaching his lips to your neck and sucking hard. It surprises you, making you nearly fall backwards, if it wasn’t for his strong arm holding you by the small of your back.

“What, what are you? Jimin, fuck- let me, let me-”, you stutter in a last attempt to keep the upper hand, but to no avail. Jimin has won, “fuck baby, you sneaky bastard…” you sigh, tilting your head back gladly.

His arms are wrapped around your body tightly, holding you safely. His soft lips worship your neck with hungry kisses, painting spots of sensitivity all over your skin. Your eyes flutter shut, your knees nearly giving up on you. He makes you so goddamn weak.

Jimin doesn’t mind your loss in strength, using your wobbly feet to his advantage to pull you even closer to his body.

His dick is pressed against our body, grinding over your clothed stomach. He moans, stopping his kisses for a moment to catch his breath.

“Undress, I don’t wanna ruin your shirt”, he mumbles against your neck, pulling at the hem of your tanktop.

“Do it yourself”, you challenge. He may have won, but this doesn’t mean you will obey his every word.

“You are making this so much worse for you. You do know that, don’t you?” he challenges, looking at you with warning eyes. He looks scary, having this distinct gleam in his eyes, which he only gets when he is either in the midst of killing someone or when someone dares to question his leadership. You know not to be scared of it, on the contrary, it turns you on like nothing else.

“You won’t hurt me”, you challenge, feeling up his sculpted pecs.

Jimin chuckles deeply.

“No”, he states. He hooks his fingers in your shirt before he rips it at the front. You whine loudly, not having expected it, but loving the utter shit out of it. Your tits fall out of the ruined shirt, getting pressed against his chest. “but I can still make you whine like a little bitch”, he spits, turning your brain into a horny mess.

He leans closer to press a loving kiss to your nose before he makes it his task to suck on your tits. His hands grab both of them, massaging the flesh roughly.

“Ah, shit”, you moan, holding onto his shoulders so you wouldn’t fall. His touch leaves you weak, needy, aching for more. You want him, crave him, need him. You need him to force you to the ground and fuck you until you are crying his name. Even if he doesn’t let you cum, you don’t care, you just need to feel him inside of you, “don’t stop, please don’t stop”, you beg, arching your back.

Jimin’s plumb lips wrap around your left nipple after having left a trail of bite marks all over your chest. He sucks hard, pinching your right nipple while he is at it.

You gasp, arching your back and digging your fingernails into his shoulders. You are sure they will leave marks, judging by the sounds it draws out of Jimin.

“Baby”, the nickname you give each other every time you are intimate rolls of your tongue without regret.

He pulls you closer, flicking his tongue over your swollen nipple.

“Fucking fuck me”, you moan, shivering as just this moment his left hand grabbed your ass, squeezing it roughly.

He stops, moving his head away from your chest.

“Say it”, his voice is raspy and deep, making you to part your legs in reaction.

“Say what?”

He lifts his head to look at you. He squeezes your ass, before he slaps it so hard you fall forward into his chest with a quiet whimper leaving your lips. Fuck, you are dizzy.

“You know exactly what”, his hand travels further down your ass, closer to your clothed pussy.

Your legs part even more. You can feel the arousal soaking your panties. It’s embarrassing really, how easily Jimin manages to make you wet.

Of course you know what he wants to hear from you, this magical six-letter word which would mean your complete submission. Do you really want that? Is the humiliation of finally giving up worth the pleasure?

Jimin’s fingers brush over your pussy. Your body jolts into his touch, muscles tensing needily. Another touch, more confident than before. His finger glides over your clothed folds a few times before finally stopping at your clit. He doesn’t move, pressing it against your swollen bundle of nerves. Your legs are shaking, you feel dizzy, everything hurts. He needs to move or else you’ll lose it.

“Plea-Please”, you whisper, instantly regretting it because of the evil smirk it causes to appear on his face.

“See? That wasn’t hard at all”, he taunts, cupping your cheek. He strokes his thumb over your skin, the touch is gentle and soft. If you didn’t know Jimin any better, you would have believed this is your reward for being so obedient. In some way it is, but more so it is your reminder that despite all the rough stuff he'll do to you now, he loves you. New arousal drips out of you, ruining your panties and soaking his fingers, which are still pressed against your pussy.

His finger starts moving. The first wave of pleasure feels so intense that your knees give up on you. You almost fall down, clutching onto Jimin’s shoulders, his neck, his arm, anything your desperate hands can grasp. Your forehead is pressed against his sculpted chest, your eyes are shut tight. It feels so good, so fucking good.

“Someone’s eager to get fucked already”, Jimin chuckles, holding you by your waist and not once stopping his fingers from circling your clothed clit.

“Jimin, baby, please”, you whimper, circling your hips to get more friction.

“Mhm? What is it baby? You want me to stop?” he asks teasingly, stopping his movements.

“No!” you blurt out, snapping your head up to look at him in panic, “don’t stop, please don’t stop I need you”, your eyes tear up, your lip trembling, “fucking undress me you bastard and fuck me.”

Jimin smiles, resting his hands on your hips.

“You look so beautiful begging for me”, he breathes, dancing his hands to the front of your pants to unbutton them. He tugs them over your butt, letting you take over afterwards. You are stepped out of them instantly, looking at him with your body completely bared and your pussy covered in your juices.

“You’re so sexy”, he says, eyes lingering on your cunt. His eyes turn dark again afterwards, the soft expression from before gone, “on all fours now”, he points at the ground.

“But the gravel. It will hurt”, you protest.

“You want me to fuck you or not?” he sounds impatient, probably wanting to feel you just as much as you want him right now.

“Yeah. But I’m not letting my knees get destroyed just because of some dick, you doofus”, you retort. The angry gleam glistening in Jimin’s eyes makes you swallow. You rub your legs together, the desire to get fucked feels even stronger than before.

“Fine”, he says sighs dramatically, before he grabs your wrists and pulls you to the rocks.

You follow happily, staring at his butt the entire time.

He turns and grabs your shoulders, placing you right in front of them. With a strong push, he forces you to bend against them. One of his hands is on your back while the other is holding you by your hip. The stone feels warm on your skin. The sun must be getting stronger, now that midday nears.

“Is that better?” he asks, giving your ass a soft slap afterwards.

“Yeah, it’s fucking hot”, you moan, chasing his touch.

“Good”, he says as he lets his hand slip between your legs to part them, “do you really want this?”

“Yes, I really do. You?”

“It’s all I’m thinking about, baby.”

Excitement fills your body. You hold your breath, parting your legs even more. You wiggle your butt for him, earning a content groan from him. He is enjoying this just as much as you are. Good. You sure hope he does.

“You have the prettiest pussy, baby”, he praises, dragging his heavy cock through your folds, “can’t wait to pound her.”

“Just do it already, will you?”

“Oh trust me, I will”, he says, pushing his cock into you without warning.

“Fuck yes”, you groan, throwing your head back, “fucking fill me up, that’s so fucking good.”

He is slipping right in, stretching you out inch by inch. It feels amazing, sparks of hot pleasure course through your veins, your walls swallow him hungrily. A moan escapes both of you when he finally bottoms out, followed by a shaky inhale.

“You are so wet baby. Fuck, it’s driving me crazy”, Jimin moans, tightening the grip on your hips.

“Jimin”, too overwhelmed with the feeling of him finally inside of you to say anything other than his sweet name.

“Yes?” his voice is shaky, filled with desire.

“Please”, you really want to say more, tell him to fuck you senseless, but it would be too much work. Your mind is too hazy, your body shaking in the desire to get fucked.

Jimin understands, grasping your hips even tighter before he finally begins to move. He doesn’t give you time to adjust to his movements. There are no gentle rocks of his hips or soothing words, only the ruthless rutting of his hips against yours and animalistic grunts.

You didn’t need them anyways, you craved this feeling like lungs crave air. The slight burn that comes with getting handled so roughly and the sinful noises coming from where your bodies meet, his strong grip and girthy cock plugging your pussy. You want to feel it, want to get fucked until tears stream down your face. It’s what you deserve. Being leader is goddamn fucking hard and you deserve to get railed like an animal for it.

“Keep going! Yes! Fuck! So good!” you scream. Yes, you deserve this, you deserve to be fucked until you can’t talk anymore.

Jimin moans deeply, his movements falter for a moment before he finds his rhythm again. His arm snakes around your body, pulling you into his sweat covered chest. The new position drives his dick into you even deeper. He speeds up, grunting and groaning at the way your walls clench around him. Your head falls back against his chest, your fingernails digging into his forearm.

“You drive me fucking insane”, he growls, “your pussy’s my fucking drug.”

“Fuck Jimin, baby”, you squeal. You can feel the first tear roll down your cheek. It feels hot, collecting on your chin before falling onto your chest. That’s it, that’s exactly what you needed. The short outburst of hot pleasure every time his dick crazes against your g-spot, the shortage of breath his fast movements let you experience and the rough feeling of his thumb rubbing circles on your clit.

Fuck. You didn’t even notice his hand traveling down to your pussy until you could feel his slick-covered fingers on your clit. You scream out his name in surprise, wanting to fall forwards if it weren’t for Jimin holding you close and pressing you right against those rocks. You reach behind yourself, grabbing a bundle of his dark hair just to pull him closer. He rests his chin on your shoulder, burying his face in the nape of your exposed neck. His lips are pressed up against your skin, his deep growls tickle you every time it you fuck them out of him.

“Don’t stop please, please”, you sob, pulling at his hair and arching your body into his fuck.

“Fuck baby, you are clenching so hard”, he growls, pressing a kiss to your neck afterwards. His movements falter for a moment, getting slower, “you’re making it so fucking hard. My cock’s so sensitive, baby. So fucking sensitive”, he moans, speeding up the movements of his thumb to make up for his slowed-down hips.

“S-same”, you choke out, “cock’s so good. Y-your cock’s so…good.”

Your eyes are pressed shut, your breath held. Just a few more thrust of his hips and you will explode. So close you are so close, just a few more. Please.

Jimin lets out a guttural moan all of a sudden, stilling all of his movements. He whimpers, his voice high-pitched and his arms tightening, “I’m cumming”, he squeaks out, trembling behind you.

You can feel the hot spurts of his cum shoot out of him. No, no, no this is not happening. You will not be left hanging, not when you were that close. Not when you are aching that much.

“Please Jimin, please, please, please don’t. Please I want to cum please, please”, you beg desperately, pulling at his hair.

Tears are streaming down your face at this point, your breath comes out as panicked wheezes.

Jimin lets out a shaky breath, loosening his arms around your waist.

“Baby please, please touch me, please I want to cum, please”, you beg, holding his hand still pressed to your core so he wouldn’t be able to move it away.

You circle your hips in an attempt to get some sort of friction. It’s faint, just a gentle touch against your aching pussy, but it’s enough to leave you sighing.

“Baby it’s too much, ah fuck”, he whimpers, burying his face deeper in your neck. He is sensitive, wanting nothing more than to pull out of you and free his pulsating dick, but your clenching walls keep him trapped, forcing him to endure the torture that is you bringing yourself to orgasm. He should leave you hanging because he’s evil like that and he loves edging you just to completely annihilate you at night. But you have enchanted him. He wants to please you, wants to hear his name fall from your lips when you reach your high and wants you to force a second orgasm out of him. He knows he can cum again, he desires you so much, he wants to fill you up until you have enough.

“Make me cum please make me cum”, you choke out, pulling at his hair. You need him to move his fingers again, the friction his palm provides is not enough. You want more.

Jimin takes a shaky breath to brace himself before he starts moving again.

“You’ve got me fucking pussy high”, he lulls, pressing you so hard against the stones that you feel dizzy for a moment. He slams into you harshly, holding your trembling body while his fingers rub your throbbing clit.

A surprised yelp escapes your lips, your hand falling from his arm to instead scratch down the stone.

“Fuck, oh fuck, Jimin, fuck, baby”, your desperate screams mix with Jimin’s high-pitched moans and you are sure the whole camp knows exactly what is up by now. Not that you give a shit about that. Let them hear who fucks you that good. You're proud of it.

Your name falls from his lips like a mantra, it sounds addicting to your ears, bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm. The movements of his thumb are rough, spiked with desperation. It’s so hot, so so hot and exactly what you needed. You can feel the knot in your stomach tightening. It’s getting close to unbearable, your whole body tensing up and your legs shaking.

“Close, so close”, you sob, pulling him closer by his hair.

“Let go, I got you baby”, he grunts. His hips are faltering again, he must be close as well.

With the encouragement you needed, your orgasm overtakes you. Warmth fills your entire body as mind numbing pleasure squirts out of your pussy. His name leaves your lips like your own personal prayer, sounding clear at first until it turn into grateful sobs.

“Yes fuck, squirt for me baby. Fucking squirt for me”, he growls, fucking you hard and rough to make sure you can feel your high as intensely as possible.

He doesn’t last long, your pulsating walls are enough to drive him over the edge a second time, even more intense than the first. For a good second, he swears that he might actually break you from how strongly he cradles you. This is the best apology sex ever, he thinks as he pumps you full of his hot cum only to for you to squirt it right out again.

You are holding each other once you come down, both panting heavily and feeling too tired to break away. Quite frankly, the only thing still keeping you standing is the rock against which Jimin presses you. Your skin glistens in sweat, sticking to each other and your fingers are entangled, not wanting to let the other go.

“That was intense”, Jimin is the first one to speak. He chuckles breathily, kissing your shoulder afterwards, “fuck baby, you’re incredible.”

“It was, you are”, you murmur, turning your head so you would be able to look into his eyes. The faux anger from before is gone from his eyes, now nothing but the warmest fondness is burning in them.

“Was I able to get you to forgive me?” he asks, sounding nervous.

“Of course you were, baby. Gosh you are adorable”, you say, craning your neck to kiss his lips.

Jimin sighs into the kiss, hugging you against him.

“Loveyou”, his confession is muffled by the kiss.

“Loveyoutoo”, you answer him just as muffled, giggling with him now that those feel good emotions are setting in.

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