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doitforbangchan · 7 months ago

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All Bark and No Bite- 15

Masterlist /Series masterlist

Chan x reader (y/n) x ot8

ABO!Nonidol!SKZ Alternate Universe

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Chapter warnings: Fem/Afab reader, Smut, unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), kissing, grinding, biting (a lot), blood, blood in mouth, dom!Jeongin, sub!Reader, subspace, virginity loss, breeding kink, loss of control, A/b/o rut symptoms, overstimulation, cursing, crying, pet names, begging, fluff, angst.

WC: 8.1k

You don’t recall how you got to bed last night. Everything after the… intimacy is a big blur. You vaguely remember being put into the huge bathtub, clearly needing a wash down after the copious amount of slick that came from you and covered your thighs. There's a faint memory of both Chan and Felix joining you in the oversized tub, showering you with love and praises.

As you came too that morning, you noticed you were wrapped in not one pair of arms, but two. That's right. During your bath last night you had laid a claiming bite to Felix. You were so delirious as you floated through deep space, that on instinct you had just leaned over and bit into him. Thankfully Felix didn’t mind, though both he and Chan had been shocked at the sudden display. Felix instead just held you tighter to him as you dug your teeth into his skin, tears of happiness and love bursting from his eyes.

You could surmise that after that encounter you had been apprehensive to leave the beta, thus how all three of you ended up in Chan's bed together. Chan had his arm draped over you on one side, snoring soundly and mouth agape. Felix was on your opposite side curled up into you, seemingly as close as he possibly could. You felt at peace there in the comfort and warmth of the two boys. So much so that after reflecting on the previous night your eyes started to droop again. Just before sleep could reclaim you there was a booming thudding that shook the whole house.

All at once, all three of you shot up in panic. Chan immediately went into protective mode, scanning both you and Felix quickly before he clamored out of bed. You and Felix looked at each other in fear and the beta grabbed onto you, pulling you into him. Just as Chan had reached the doorknob to leave his room to go investigate, there was another crash. This time it sounded like something shattered. Then came the deafening cry-

“CHAN HELP!”

His skin felt like it was melting off, the blistering heat in his blood making him sweat bullets. Jeongin hadn’t slept all night. Not a single second. His brain and body would not let him rest for even a moment after what he had witnessed in the living room last night. After seeing you like that, in that blissful and fucked out state. It was enough to drive a man mad.

Or in this case, enough to drive a recently presented alpha into a rut. The last two (and only two) other times he went into a rut he had been able to sense it for days. Had been able to prepare for it and remove himself from the house. This time was different though. There hadn’t been any warning, there hadn't been any signs, nothing.

At first he tried to shake it off. He had skulked back to his room seamlessly last night. He figured he was just having a normal horny reaction, something he’s been dealing with ever since he met you. Sleeping it off would help, right?

Wrong

Jeongin tried, he really did. He drank some water to cool himself down and laid in his bed. Soon enough he threw his blankets off of him, feeling way too hot under them. Then he opened his window, trying to get some air flow to cool him down. When that didn’t work he tore his shirt off and used it to wipe the sweat that was building on his forehead and chest.

Then the pacing began. For some reason he couldn’t sit still, his skin was crawling and he began to feel antsy. Time ran away from him as he paced his room. Back and forth, over and over again. The pain didn’t begin until he started to run his fingers through his hair, when his mind wandered off and he imagined it was you who was touching his hair.

He couldn’t stop the mental images of you he had seen. How deep you took Felix's dick down your throat. Your glassy eyes when you choked on it. The ripple of your ass after each thrust into you from behind. The whimpers and cries of pleasure you let go of as you came. Fuck, don’t even get him started on the smell that permeated out of you. The thick arousal had spread through every orifice of the house, so thick he figured he could have stuck out his tongue and tasted you in the air.

He craved it more than breathing. His cock craved it. His boner had been steadily growing in his pj shorts. A continuous dripping of his precum spouting through the tip and making a wet spot on his shorts.

Jeongin felt a dangerous amount of sheer aggression within him begging to be released. It was at this point he knew exactly what was happening, and by now it was too late to leave or do anything about it. It was nearing dawn by now, he could see the first sign of the sun beginning to crest over the thick forest outside the window.

While he was still somewhat in his right mind he decided the best course of action would be to lock himself up in his room, and pray it ended swiftly. Not only did he lock his door but he also pushed his dresser in front of his door so no one could enter his space. Maybe not his smartest move but in his rattled brain it seemed like the best course of action.

After another hour he couldn’t stop humping into his pillows, begging for some kind of release. He would take literally anything. But nothing came, or more like he couldn’t cum. He was growling and crying as he tried desperately to get off. Deep inside himself he knew why he couldn’t. It’s because he didn’t have you.

“Fuck!” He cursed louding, gripping into his now moistened pillow with both hands and literally tearing it into two pieces. His sense of reality was slipping quickly.

There was a tentative knock on his door that startled the alpha.

“Innie? Are you ok?” The sleepy voice of Jisung rang in his ears through the door. The beta tried the door but was met with it being locked. The handle rattled. “Why is your door locked? You never lock it.”

Jeongin growled at the attempted intrusion. “Go away Jisung.”

Jisung could hear the menace in the younger boy's tone, and it shook him more awake. Then came the overwhelming amount of pheromones that leaked through the cracks in the alphas door. ‘Holy fucking shit. Innie is in a rut.’

“Innie… If you're going into a rut right now, then we gotta get you outta here. You gotta go to the safehouse.” Jisungs words were almost a whisper, the scent was making his throat close up and his eyes water.

“There was no time, it’s too late for that. Leave me alone.” The alpha grumbled, eyes trained on the door with malicious intent. He had never in his life felt so feral. It was kind of scary. He was still sweating profusely.

In hindsight, the next thing the beta said may not have been his brightest, “ Well you can’t stay here. What if you hurt someone? What if you hurt baby?”

At the mention of you, the alpha lost control of himself. There was a deep rumbling coming from within him as his instincts took over and he knew he just needed you. He had to get to his omega immediately.

Jeongin shot off his bed hastily and to the barricade he had created for himself. With all his might he ripped the opposing furniture away from the door, creating a loud boom that shook the house as it clattered away from the door. He then went to unlock the door and rip it open, but was met with the terrified hands of Jisung who gave him a harsh push back into his room. The force caused the alpha to fall back into another desk, knocking down a lamp that resided there. There was a shattering clang as it hit the floor.

Jisung panicked and yanked the door closed, holding it there as tight as he could, but he knew he would be no match for a raging alpha. So he did the only thing he could do… Get help.

“CHAN HELP!”

The second Chan left his room he could tell exactly what was happening. The smell alone was enough to fill him in on the predicament. He sprinted through the halls until he reached the source of the commotion.

Jisung was still holding the door while he fought back cries. “Channie, thank fucking god.”

“What the fuck happened?” The alpha demanded, eyes hard.

“Innie, he -” Ji was cut off by a strong pull against the door, the beta unable to keep position and almost flying forward with it as it was yanked.

Chan pulled Jisung back and flung himself into Jeongin before he could leave the room. “Go get Changbin, now Ji.” He called to the beta, who took off towards Bins room. Chan could see the broken mess on the floor, a sense of understanding coming over him. Then he focused back on Jeongin. He had his arms wrapped around the alpha boy as he thrashed in his hold. “Jeongin, you have to stop. You're in a rut, this isn’t you.” Chan was using his head alpha voice to try and corral the younger, but it did little to quell him.

Back in Chan's room, you and Felix could hear a commotion down on the second floor of the house. Without a thought other than to help, you slipped out of Felix's hold and off the bed, ignoring the intense ache that was settled between your legs.

“Baby stop!” Felix tried to reach for you but you were quicker, shooting out of the room with him hot on your tail. You managed to stay one step ahead of him until right when you made it to the threshold where there was now a gathering of the pack. Felix wrapped you in his hold tightly before you could enter, his bright eyes scanning the situation. You could both tell by the scent that there was an alpha in a rut nearby. “We’re going back to Chan's room. This is no place for you.”

Peering in as you squirmed you could see Jeongin being held tightly against Changbin as Chan had a grip on his face, attempting to calm down the youngest alpha. Jisung was to the side, hands on his face as he observed. Jeongin’s eyes were wild as he attempted to push the other boys off of him, until suddenly the flailing stopped and his nose flared. He could sense you nearby with his currently heightened senses.

His gaze zeroed in on you just beyond his door, held by Felix, as you wore nothing but a t- shirt. “Omega.”

Chan swiftly turned his head to see you there, “Fuck. Felix get her out of here.” He sounded pissed now.

“M’ tryin!” The beta pulled at you, but you dead weighted yourself to make it harder. “Baby come on! Please!”

“No!” You protested, digging your heels in. “He needs me!” Your omega brain only has one mission at this very moment. Help the alpha. Make it better.

By now the other few members had come out of their rooms frantically, now crowding around the scene that was unfolding. It was quite the sight indeed. All alphas were in their underwear; having no time to change into clothes given the circumstances.

“Jesus fucking christ, can we not have one normal day?! For once?!” Minho shouted in exasperation. The eldest beta noticed Felix struggling with you and went to help. “Y/n, go to your room.”

“No!” you yelled again, tears coming to your lashes as you fought. “I can’t! He needs me!”

“For fuck sake, just listen for once!” Minho yelled at you, but it was kind of your thing to not listen to what he said. Instead you shook your head in defiance. The beta wanted to rip his hair out in frustration. “Fine. I won’t be responsible for this fucking mess.” He snarled as he threw his hands up and stomped past Hyunjin who quickly got out of the elder betas way. It was too early for this shit…

You looked to Chan, your eyes pleading and filled with crystalline tears. “Channie, please. Let me help him. I don’t know how or why, but I need to help him. Please, alpha.”

Chan cursed when he heard your begs, but then he noticed something. Once Jeongin had eyes on you he had calmed down. Minimally, but it was a noticeable improvement. The boy wasn’t fighting against them as hard and his breathing wasn’t as labored. He never would have grabbed Jeongin like this in the first place if he wasn’t fighting so bad and knocking shit over.

“Bin, hold him tight, ok?” Changbin nodded, latching onto the youngest alpha. He too had noticed the change. Chan went swiftly to you, grabbing your face in both hands and tilting your face up. “Do you even understand what you’re asking me right now, omega?”

You tried to nod but you couldn’t with his hold on your face. “Yes Chan, I think I do.”

“You think you do? Let me explain something to you, love. Innie has only ever gone through his rut twice before, and never with another person. Fuck, he’s never been with another person period.”

Jeongin was…a virgin?!

“He especially never went through it with an omega. This is a recipe for a man who is almost wild with need. Do you think that’s something you could handle?” His tone was skeptical as he searched for any sign of trepidation in your face. Chan remembers how he used to be when he started getting ruts. He was an insatiable asshole. To be fair, not much has changed.

Your eyes flitted over to Jeongin. He was still standing in the middle of his room being held and whispered to by Changbin. His predatory stare was locked on you; his pupils blown way out of proportion. It didn’t help that you had on nothing but Felix's shirt and nothing else.

“Honestly, Channie.” You looked back at him. “I believe I can handle it. I want to try.”

He stared at you for a moment longer, searching your eyes for anything that would negate what you said. When he found nothing he let out a sigh and dropped his hands from you. “If it becomes too much for you, call for me. Promise me you will.”

“I promise.” you stated with no hesitancy whatsoever.

He looked around at all the worried faces of the pack, then back to you to give you a hard stare. “Ok.. You win, omega.” You went to cheer but he cut you off, “First go take your pill. And you have to be sure to take it every single day, rut or no rut.”

“You got it!” You pulled him in for a swift kiss that surprised him, then you hightailed it back to Chan's room for your pill. You gulped it down with the glass of water that was left on the nightstand.

Honestly you had no clue why you were so excited. You knew how rough and demanding an alpha could be, one during a rut would be a whole other ball game. But something about it excited you. Maybe it was the prospect of a challenge, maybe it was anticipation of helping one of your alphas.

You skipped back down to the second floor, finding none of the betas present anymore. Chan had sent them back to their own devices- there was no need for anymore of a spectacle. The door to Jeongins room was closed now. Chan leaned back up against the door waiting for you.

He cupped your face again as you approached. “You really are the best omega, you know that?” You preened at his praise, leaning into his touch. “Take breaks when you need to. I’ll be out here with food for you both in a few hours.” After you nodded he gave you a passionate kiss, nipping at your bottom lip as he pulled away. “ I love you.”

“I love you too, Channie.” he gave you another kiss then he let you go and stepped away from the door. You took a deep breath and reached for the door handle but before you could turn the handle it opened, revealing Changbin coming out of the room. He closed the door behind him.

“Hey baby. Be careful in there, Innie is chomping at the bit.” He chuckled, giving you a deep kiss as he passed. “I know you’ll be fine though. He loves you too much to hurt you, rut or not.”

Your face heated up, “He loves me?”

“Are you kidding?” Bin asked in surprise. “That kid loves you more than almost anything. We all do. You’re our special girl. Our precious baby.” He giggled when he saw your eyes fill with tears. “Don’t cry, baby. Save it for Innie.”

“I love you all too, Binnie. So much.” You yanked him down to plant another kiss on his lips. “Ok ok, I’m on a mission here.”

He threw his hands up and stepped back to stand next to Chan who had been watching your interaction. Any other time you would have taken a moment to ogle the two Alphas who were still in their underwear.

You debated knocking on but figured it would be pointless, so with a slight shake to your hands you turned the handle and opened the door. You cracked it open and stepped through the threshold, “Innie?” You heard a pained moan when you said his name.

Nothing could prepare you for the scene you walked into. There was your sweet Jeongin, laying on his bed, his clothes scattered across the room, and his fist jerking his red cock. His motions were jerky and rough, and his body was covered in sweat. His face was flushed and he was panting. His eyes were locked on your form the second you stepped into his room. The pupils in his eyes took over entirely, reminding you he was a predator and you were his prey.

“Omega,” It came out as a deep rumble from the back of his throat. “Come here.” There was no nicety in his voice, only gravelly desire.

With a gulp you took careful steps over to where he laid. The closer you got to him the quicker the pace of his hand went, his nostrils were flaring as he took in your scent. The state of him caused a pool of slick to gather in your core, and by the way he grit his teeth you knew he could smell it. “Hi, Innie..” You reached a tentative hand out to pat down his sweaty hair in an attempt to comfort him. Though comfort was not what he was after.

He took advantage of your outstretched hand, grabbing the appendage with lightning quick reflexes and hauling you onto his bed. In less than a second he had you trapped underneath him. His big hands had a grip on your hips underneath the shirt you wore and his face was shoved into your neck as he breathed in your scent.

Jeongins eyes turned into slits when he smelt the other members of the pack on you. “Take this shit off of you, now.” It came out as an intimidating growl, and with a burst of aggression he gripped the shirt and tore it right down the middle. You gasped when the now torn fabric fell off of you and when he literally tossed the opposing garment to the floor. “Mm that’s better.”

The alpha couldn’t help but gawk at your bare form underneath him. He was salivating at the sight of your breasts; your erect nipples just begging to be sucked on and bitten. You were starting to feel insecure at his excruciating stare. “Innie… You’re making me self conscious…” Your hands went to cover yourself but he grabbed your hands and held them down on each side of you.

A groan of objection left him “None of that, Omega. Don’t you ever hide from me.” He buried his face into your chest, licking over the perked skin. He hummed when you gave him a quiet yelp when he bit particularly hard at your nipple. “Need to hear you make that sound for me, again and again.”

He suckled once again before he let your hands go free, and he laid wet, sloppy kisses and nips down your body. He traveled south as he marked your skin with his mouth. His teeth repeatedly grazed over your skin, gathering the flesh between his teeth with each movement; all the while he still held your hands down by your sides.

Even though you were so sore from yesterday's activities, your body was slowly creating slickness to prepare for the alpha. When he laid a particularly rough nip you couldn’t stop the little whine, “Innie…”

Jeongin let out a growl at your whine, mouthing even further down until he finally reached his destination. He shuffled down until he was face to face with your core. His eyes closed as he breathed in the pure scent of you, finding it immediately mouth watering. Without a second thought he dove face first into your pussy. He rubbed his nose back and forth as he breathed you in, it made your face heat with how lewd it was.

You gasped when his hot mouth made contact. “Ah Jeongin!” You attempted to put your hands on his head but his firm hold kept your hands down still.

Jeongin wasted no time in lapping up your slick. The alpha moaned loudly when he got a taste of your juices. He buried his face as far into you as possible, almost as if he was trying to be absorbed by you completely. The way he licked and sucked at you was desperate and chaotic. He had found no rhythm and was going purely based on instinct. Hell, he wasn’t even breathing, just taking in as much as he could of you.

You moaned and rocked your hips against his face. Even though he was sloppy and untrained you still found yourself swimming in pleasure. When you moved your hips he lost focus on holding you for only a split second, but that was all you needed to remove your hands from his hold. You threw your now freed hands into his hair, tangling in his grown out locks.You pulled on the strands and he groaned raspily, sending vibrations into your clit that he was sucking on.

“Nhggh Innie, Alpha, oh my god.” At your words he increased his speed, thrusting his tongue deep into you, desperate to drink every drop he could. “Fuck, Innie, your gonna make me cum. Keep doing that and I’ll cum.” You wanted to be encouraging but were finding it hard with how intensely he ate at you. He did as you said, continuing his motions until he pushed you right over the precipice.

You felt the cord within you snap as you released all over his face and into his awaiting mouth. You gasped a cry when you came, your toes curling and legs shaking with rapture. The alpha didn’t stop once you had cum, though his slurping did get louder as he drank away your orgasm. You gave a weak push to his forehead in an attempt to make him stop and give you a breather. He didn’t stop. Instead he groaned sharply at you in response, and pulled you even closer. You weren’t sure that was even possible but he did it. Jeongin was so lost in you, he couldn’t get enough. His own hips were rutting themselves against his bed, acting on their own volition. You tried to push at him once again when the sucking became too much, but with lightning quick reflexes he slapped his hand against your thigh as he growled in warning. His blown out eyes pupils found yours as he looked up at you.

“Behave yourself, Omega. I will do as I please with you.” He smacked your thigh again, the sting making you hiss. “I had to wait long enough for you, I won’t wait any more. I’m taking what I want from you.” He didn’t wait for a response as he reburied his face within you.

This time he had begun to find a pattern. He was keeping track of every little moan and breath you released, learning exactly how to get you to make more of that delicious slick he craved. As he suckled and prodded it was only a matter of time before he had you on the cusp once again. Your grip tightened on his hair as you came with a breathless cry, the overstimulation becoming too much for you to handle and tears were streaming down your cheeks. Was he really a virgin? How could a boy who made you feel this good still be a virgin?

This time Jeongin let you push his face away, giving you a much needed moment to collect yourself. Your eyes were screwed shut and your body was trembling. As Jeongin pulled back he gazed at you with a predatory stare. He could see the quiver on your lips and the wetness of your tears. It was making him feral.

“Fuck, you are the most beautiful woman in the entire world.” The words have slipped from him involuntarily, but he meant everyone of them. “M so lucky you're my omega.” He kissed your inner thigh. You opened your eyes to see him staring right at you. “Say it.”

“Huh?” You were still coming down from your orgasm, your brain couldn’t keep up.

“Say it. Say you’re mine.” He wasn’t asking, he was demanding. Alpha commanding it. This is the first time he had ever used his Alpha status in a command before. It made him feel powerful.

“M yours, Alpha.” You whimpered, giving into him. “Your omega.”

The second you finished speaking Jeongin turned his head and bared his sharp teeth, before digging them into the skin of your inner thigh. You screamed from the pinching “Jeongin!” He didn’t relent, instead he bit harder onto your skin. He was getting drunk on the way your blood filled his mouth. He wanted to make sure it would never fade.

After a few seconds he let go, lathing at the mark to soothe the marred skin. His tongue cleaned the area before he locked eyes with you once again. There was a hint of red that escaped the corner of his lips, and with a shaky hand you used your thumb to wipe away your blood from him. It was kind of surreal seeing him like this. Like a beast. You didn’t know he had it in him, even though he had shown you previously that he most certainly had it in him. You guessed that you should have taken him more seriously the last time he almost took you.

After wiping away the blood you cupped the side of his cheek affectionately, offering him a kind smile that made him purr. He slowly crawled up your body once again until he was face to face with you. His cock was red and leaking a steady stream of precum and you felt drip onto your stomach.

Jeongin only gave you a second before he pressed a hot kiss to your mouth, shoving his tongue into your mouth. You could taste yourself on him, both your slick and your blood. Quickly you wrapped your arms around him as he leaned his weight onto you. His hands came up to fondle your breasts, long fingers pulling at your nipples roughly. You squealed when he tugged just a little too hard, the pain making you jump. He huffed into your mouth at your movement.

“Fuck, Omega. I don’t think I can hold back from you any longer.” He shut his eyes tight when he pulled back to speak, as if trying to reign himself in. “I need to have you. Need to feel your pussy, baby.” He gave you no chance to respond, as he leaned back and with a bout of strength he flipped you onto your stomach. Once you were flipped he laid another harsh smack to you- this time on your ass, as he watched it jiggle for him. “Mm fucking hell. Present yourself to me, omega.” Another Alpha command you couldn’t resist even if you wanted too.

Even though you were already exhausted you used your strength to push yourself onto your knees and forearms, giving the alpha a clear view of your pussy from underneath you. And a view of the fresh bite on the inside of your thigh. The alpha groaned lustily when he gazed at the sight.

Jeongin settled himself behind you, running his fingers along your spine as if to soothe you. He leaned over you to coo in your ear “So pretty like this, omega. Never seen a prettier sight in my entire life.” You hummed in response, feeling your cheeks heat up. “ M gonna try not to be too rough with you, baby. Promise I’ll try.”

You nodded, “ Ok Innie.”

Suddenly his gentle touch was gone and replaced with a tight hold on your hips as he lined up with your opening. It took him a moment to line up correctly, having never shoved his dick into anything let alone a woman, it was quite daunting. Though he felt no nerves, only pure need and lust. Finally, without warning, he pushed his full length inside. You screeched at the sudden breach. Jeongin threw his head back in ecstasy, moaning loudly at the feeling of you wrapped around him. “Oh my fuckkkinnngg goooooood, omega. Fuck this feels so good.”

As soon as he said it he leaned over and bit you again, this time on the back of your right shoulder. You screamed again when he clamped on, “Jeongin, fuck!” You couldn’t deny how good it felt, the endorphins running through your whole body.

He dug his teeth further in as he started to thrust violently in and out of your abused hole. His pupils had turned into cat-like slits, and he was growling with each and every movement he made. The wet sound reverberated off the walls, echoes of the proof of your arousal filling the space. He knew deep down he needed to let go of your shoulder and calm down but he just couldn’t. He had never in his entire life felt this ravenous. He could see you white knuckling the sheets beneath you, and hear your labored breaths, but even so, he just could not stop.

His thrusts were sloppy as he rutted against you. He had found no rhythm in his hips, but despite that his angle was still hitting you just right. His cock was long and thick, just as an alphas should be. Little whimpers of his name and designation were leaving your mouth. When he heard his name come from you, Jeongin doubled down subconsciously, putting more of his weight into his thrusts and his grip hardened on your skin. The added pressure caused your arms to give out, and you fell face first into his sheets.

When you fell forward it made the alpha let go of your shoulder. The blood was dripping off the wound, rolling down onto his bed. He wanted to see this sight over and over again. “Precious little girl, look so good with my bite on you. Need to do it again.” His voice was thick and wet, as if he had a mouth full of your blood.

“S-slow d-down pl-eaassse” Your words were slurred as you practically begged him.

“Isn’t this what you wanted? What you signed up for when you begged the pack to let you help me? I thought you wanted to be my good little omega, don’t you baby?” His voice had a slight condensation to it, even through his raspy huffs.

The alpha then took his hands to spread your ass cheeks, getting even closer to you in the process. Now you had entered subspace for the second time in less than 24 hours, your mind was swimming and you couldn’t hold a coherent thought as Jeongin fucked into you. Jeongin was too caught up in his own pleasure to catch onto you slipping away. He scanned your back looking for another suitable spot, and once he had found one he leaned back onto you and bit into you for a third time. This time on the meat of your side by your ribs.

You didn’t hold back the deafening moan that escaped as you came, feeling a flood of emotions from both you and the alpha above you. You clenched around him tightly as you came, squeezing his dick and making him let out a howl as he let go of your skin. By now your back was littered with your smeared blood and his own saliva.

Before you even had a chance to finish shaking he pulled out of you suddenly, making you whine. Though almost instantly after your noise he used his strength to flip your body around so you could now lay on your back. He cared not for how your blood was sure to stain his sheets. You sighed in relief when you were laid down- no longer having to support yourself on exhausted limbs- but your solace was cut short when he pressed against you once again and thrust back into you. You wailed when he entered you again, your wet walls throbbing at the brutality of it.

Jeongin took your thighs and hauled them up as high as your body would allow, getting you into a mating press and holding onto your skin to keep you in that position while he pounds into your pussy.

For Jeongin this new angle was everything. He was so close to you, his cock hit even deeper than before and it felt so fucking good. The noises that escaped him were inhuman, he sounded more like a rabid dog than a person. He was licking fat stripes all over your neck, coating you even further with his saliva and his scent. He wanted you to drown in it.

“Fuck m’ gonna cum. Wanna cum inside you, omega. Wanna fill you up, fuck, wanna breed you.” He was blabbering as he neared his high, saying things he had never said aloud before. “Wanna give you sweet little babies, nngggg, keep you full of me forever. You wan it? Wan’ me to breed your pussy, omega?”

Fuck, his words were so filthy. Those added with the place you mentally free floated you found yourself subconsciously agreeing with everything he said. “Uh huh, br-breed me, alpha.”

The feeling was too much for the boy and with no warning he came inside of you. You shivered as you felt the heat from his cum coat your walls. It was thick and sticky as it shot deep within you. Thank god you had taken your birth control or you were sure he would have knocked you up. Especially with the way his knot inflated, keeping it all trapped within you.

Finally, he had stopped moving, choosing instead to fall on top of you and nuzzle into the side of your neck. He was panting deeply in your ear, the warmth of his breath being comforting somehow.

You had only a split second to enjoy the feeling, before you slipped in and out of unconsciousness.You were so worn out, your body just needed a moment to collect itself. The last thing you remember was the feeling of Jeongins fingers running up and down your sides while he caressed you gently as he felt his right mind return after his orgasm.

You could faintly hear his whispered apologies at the way he treated you and how good you are to him and how he loved you. It was enough to lull you into a peaceful nap. At least until his rut symptoms returned.

Chan was in his office down the hall, he had his door open fully so he was able to clearly hear you if you needed anything. He wasn’t nervous per say- more anxious to see how you handle Innie. If you could come out of it with the younger boy and remain in pleasant spirits, then he would know how well you could handle him when he eventually went into his rut. Chan honestly should have known that soon one of the alphas would go into an early rut. The fact that it was Jeongin really didn’t surprise him much, given how he had reacted when you went into heat. He felt a little guilty for not being better prepared. Chan knew eventually you would need a break, so he had asked Felix to make some goodies for you to enjoy later on.

Speaking of the beta, Felix was attempting to cheer himself up by baking. It was his favorite pastime so usually it brought him great joy. Though this time he couldn’t stop the pout that had settled into his features. To him, he felt like he had just gotten you back and now he’s being forced away again. He didn’t want to be selfish but fuck come on! He just misses his baby. But he’ll be damned if he won’t make you and Innie the best damn cookies you've ever had!

Minho was walking the property, attempting to calm his building irritation. ‘Why can’t she just fucking listen to me for once?’ He thought bitterly. It really stewed within him, making him more pissed off by the second. ‘Little girl just hasn’t learned her place yet, I’ll show her how to behave.’ His thoughts cut off when he was passing by the old greenhouse, hearing laughter and shuffling coming from within.

Minho peered inside to find Changbin, Jisung and Hyunjin inside. The two betas were kneeled on the ground as they pulled out weeds and dead plants from the old soil. Changbin was wiping the windows and getting rid of the cobwebs. Hyunjin was the first to notice the new arrival.

“Hey Min!” Hyunjin smiled but it quickly faded when he noticed the scowl etched into the elders face. “What's wrong?” This caught the attention of the other two, who looked over with worry.

“Nothing. What are you guys doing?” He wanted to take the attention away from him.

“Felix mentioned that Baby wanted to start gardening, so we thought it would be a nice way to surprise her by getting this place cleaned up and ready for her.” Jisung beamed when he mentioned you, clearly excited about their plan.

“Hmm” Minho hummed, walking further into the tiny structure. “That’s very nice of you, Ji.” He patted the top of Jisungs head as if he was rewarding a dog, but Jisung was happy with it either way.

“I’m actually about to head out to the gardening center in town, if you want to join me Min. Then I was gonna meet up with a friend at the Gym. I think it would do you some good to get out of the house for a while, huh?” Chanbin offered, able to tell that Minho needed to get out and let off some steam.

Minho pondered for a second, weighing his options. That sounded better than sitting home and listening to you get railed by Jeongin all day. “Sure, that sounds nice. Let me go get my Gym bag.”

“Awesome. I’ll do the same and meet you by my car in a few minutes.”

Minho just saluted in response and went on his way to grab his stuff. Going up the stairs he could hear your cries and Jeongins moans, making him clench his teeth. Yeah, getting out of the house for the day would definitely do him some good.

All too soon you were awoken by Jeongin. It was the feeling of him scraping his teeth over the curve of your breast that lured you from your nap, the sharpness of his canine catching on your nipple making you jolt awake. You were still laid on your back, with Jeongin once again between your legs and he was leaning on his elbows over you.

“Innie, wha’ are you doin?” You asked groggily, your voice horse from all the previous moaning.

“Shh, omega.” He shushed, attempting to soothe you. “ Started feelin’ needy again, need my sexy omega to make me feel better, yeah?” His lips kissed on your skin, the spit from them leaving a glistening trail. “I’ll be gentle with you this time, promise.”

He didn’t give you a chance to respond before he was rutting against you with what was his attempt at delicacy. To be fair, it was much less relentless than the first round. He propped himself up further to rub his dick through your leftover wetness. You whimpered when his tip ran along your folds and caught on your clit.

“Mm, love those little sounds, baby. Think you can make more for me, please baby?” He licked on your flesh behind your ear, suckling there and leaving a deeply flushed mark. You nodded hesitantly, still feeling the tenderness between your thighs. “You’re so good to me, make me feel so good- so special and cared for.”

“It’s cuz I do care about you, Innie, more than I can express.” You lifted your tired arms to wrap over his shoulders, wanting him close. He rolled his hips against you again, this time with a touch more force, listening to the sloshing sound that came from where your bodies met. It was taking everything in him not to slam into you and take you again, but he knew you needed to be cared for right now. The alpha in him still needed to tend to you, even through his grueling rut.

“I know you do, can feel your love radiating off of you. I’ve never felt anything like it from anyone in my entire life, the pure passion that burns in you. Makes me weak, makes me crave you more and more; in a way I’ve never craved anything.” He never stopped his movements, finally finding a pattern that rubbed on you just right. You moaned wantonly and screwed your eyes shut, feeling another dam about to break within you. You just needed a touch more intimacy form him, and you knew you could get there.

“Alpha, please k-kiss me.” You had a tear welling up in your eye, but as soon as it fell down your cheek it was licked up by Jeongins warm tongue. Then he crashed his mouth onto yours, kissing you like it was his job. You tasted the salt from your tears on his lips. The kiss was exactly what you needed, and with a whine into his mouth you came again. You clenched around nothing as you shook.

Your shaking gave the alpha the nudge he needed, following right behind you and cumming on your folds and clit. He shuddered and panted against you as he groaned into your mouth. You stroked his hair as he came down, letting him ride it out for as long as he needed. By this point you were both just panting into each others mouths- not really kissing anymore.

After a few seconds he was able to pull back from you, finally climbing off of you and onto the bed next to you. He looked over at your sweaty form, taking in how fucked out you looked, how debauched he had made you over the last few hours. It made him coo at you and pull you into his embrace from the side. “Come here, sweetheart. Let your alpha hold you.”

You snuggled into him, ignoring the stickiness that settled on your skin and between your thighs. “How are you feeling, Innie?” You asked, kissing his chest.

“Much better for now, baby. All thanks to you.” He purred, making you keen in response. Silence settled over you both for a moment as you just breathed together. He was the one to break it though, “Ya know… I saw you last night.”

“Huh?” You were confused for a second, then it hit you. Last night. When you were getting railed by Chan and Felix in the living room. “You saw that?” You were slightly mortified.

He chuckled nervously, hoping you weren’t upset about it. “I didn’t mean to, but when I walked down the hall I couldn’t help it… I had to see.” He bit his lip, “It kinda set off my rut. I couldn’t get the images of you out of my head. Are you mad?”

You nuzzled into him, sniffling. “M’ sorry, Innie.”

“What are you sorry for? You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m the one who peeped!” He was bewildered by you. “Don’t cry, baby please.”

“You started an early rut because of me. All I do is cause you turmoil. I’m so sorry.”

“That's enough of that. No more crying.” He was exercising his new ability to alpha command you. One might say abusing his power over you, but who's really to say? “ None of it is on you. I’m just so happy to have you here for me, there's no one else I’d rather have lost my v-card too than you, omega.”

You were shocked as you dried your tears, “You mean you were a- a-”

“A virgin, yeah.” He looked sheepish at his admittance. “I guess I hadn’t really been interested in anyone else, maybe it was the romantic in me that was holding out for an omega to love. And looks like I found one, so I can’t be upset.” He winked clumsily.

“I'm just a little surprised. You made me feel.. So good.” Now it was your turn to be shy. You pushed your face into his chest even further as he chuckled.

“I was just following my instincts baby. I'm sorry that I got a little carried away with that first round. We should probably clean those bites before the rut starts to kick my ass again.” He kissed your head and squeezed you. You nodded in agreement and kissed his chest in response.

Changbin and Minho had stopped at the gardening center first. Changbin had a list given to him by Felix full of supplies and seeds that he knew you would need to get started. The two boys had even picked a few things they wanted you to plant, including a baby raspberry bush so Minho could make fresh jams. Then their next stop was Changbins gym that he visited regularly.

When they walked in they were immediately greeted by Changbins new friend. “Hey Bin! Took you long enough!”

“Eh, I would call it fashionably late.” He bro-hugged the beta man, then turned to introduce him to Minho. “Min, this is Wooyoung. He’s in town for the summer, we met at the diner right before we went camping.”

Wooyoung gave Minho a bright smile, showing off his pearly teeth. He stuck out his hand to shake. “What's up, nice to meet you.”

Minho subtly took in Wooyoung. He was slender and had a friendly face. There was a claiming mark etched onto his neck, clearly from an alpha given how deep it is. If Minho didn’t know any better he would say the other beta was generically average. But, Minho could see something hidden in his eyes, something almost sinister.

Still, Changbin had befriended him so he wouldn’t make any assumptions just yet. So he grabbed the outstretched hand and gave a firm shake. “Nice to meet you too.” He didn’t miss the subtle way the other man's nose flared when Minho got closer to him. He made a mental note of it.

Changbin clapped his hands together, “Alright, let's get started. We gotta get you boys into shape. You’re both too scrawny. Weights, chop chop.”

Minho groaned in protest, but it didn’t last long before he was being shoved by Bin, who was laughing at his pack mates displeasure. This time, Min did miss the borderline evil smirk that graced Wooyoung's face as he trailed behind.

A/N: Don't come for me about all the blood in mouths thing... In this universe it's not a harmful thing since they all bite each other :)

Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

Also if any one wants to chat about the story or share predictions please send me an ask!!

Beta read by my loves @ayejaii and @jehhskz <3

©doitforbangchan

Taglist- Closed

@chxnb97 / @butterflydemons / @zaggprincess2 / @stellasays45 / @uhhheather / @walnutspie / @a-mistake-tbh / @meowmeeps / @realrintaro / @ihrtlix / @raehawthorne / @juskz / @freckleboilix / @marvelsmarauder / @0325tiny / @iyeeeverydee / @stars-garden / @boi-bi-ahaha / @gini143 / @queenmea604 / @palindrome969 / @f9clementine / @theysaidhush / @kpophosblog / @usercaiskz / @honeym0chi / @nobody3210 / @changbinswife10789 @5starluvr / @neyangi / @jiminssluttyminx inx / @ayejaii / @iknowleeknow/ @jeonginnieswifey / @catlove83 / @upsidedownchaire / @emmxxsworld / @manuosorioh / @igetcarriedawaywithyou / @blondechannie / @woozixo / @ilovejeongin007/ @yaorzu-blog/ @theydy-madamonsieur / @jehhskz / @feybin / @rylea08 / @sebastianswhore13 / @kihyuns-military-wife / /@lilyuwon @xx3rachaslutxx / @hahhahahjakakla / @skzstaykatsy / @zerefdragn33l / @yuhhhhh-slay / @im-sinking-in-mud / @n0y4 / @writhingwrecked / @silentreadersthings

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jeonginsleftcheek · 7 months ago

Text

Masterlist

s - smut

a - angst

f - fluff

b - suggestive

Bang Chan *ੈ ♡ ༘ ⋆

Dating Bang Chan (f, b)

happy birthday, love (a, f)

A little help and more (ChanLix x reader) (s, f)

Lee Know ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Get better, okay? (f)

In der Palästra (s)

Kitten (drabble) (s)

Changbin ✧˖°.⁺‧˚ ♡ ˚‧⁺ ✧˖°.

Seasons with you (f)

The perfect equation(drabble)(f)

Hyunjin ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

B For Breath Play (s)

Me or him - Hyunjin x reader x Felix (series)

Cult of Love (s)

Sweet Reunion (f,s)

Work of art (s)

Untitled #1 (drabble) (s,f)

Messy baby(drabble) (s)

Pretty naughty boy(drabble) (s)

The sun to me (series)

At the office(HyunLix x reader) (s)

Versace heels (s)

Precious (s, f)

The art of erotica(HyunLix x reader) (s)

Soft(drabble) (f,b)

Crave you (s,f)

untitled #2 (soft thought)

With you, always (f,b)

By The Pool (s)

Close your eyes (s, a)

Jisung ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

red dye, crushes and lollipops (f)

Shower (s)

Texts with bf!Jisung

My favorite person (f,s)

Felix -⋆⭒˚｡⋆꒰☽♡☾₊꒱⋆⭒˚｡⋆-

R for Rimming (s,f)

S for Spanking (s)

Yes, master (s,f)

Me or him - Hyunjin x reader x Felix

Cupid's Shot (f,a)

Easy morning (f,s)

Code to your heart (f,s)

Desperate!Felix x chubby!fem!reader headcanons (f,s)

Good doll (s)

Breastfeeding kink w Felix (drabble) (s)

Devil in disguise (s)

A little help and more (ChanLix x reader) (f,s)

Wild (drabble) (s)

SugarDaddy!Felix (series)

Home (drabble) (f)

Bang! (f,s)

Take it off (s)

Sweet Like Sugar (s)

At the office(HyunLix x reader) (s)

A relaxing evening (s,f)

The art of erotica(HyunLix x reader) (s)

Good boy (collab with @moonchild9350) (s)

Need a hand? (s)

Twisted (f, s, thriller)

Seungmin ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊

Your biggest fan (f,s)

Jeongin ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

OT8♡

Cuddling with Stray Kids (f,b)

First kiss with Stray Kids (f,b)

With an s/o who is a huge horror movie fan (f)

Specific things they adore about you (f,b)

In the bus with bf!Skz(f)

Keep me cold (drabble) (s)

Cuddling during sleep (f)

Bf!Skz when you randomly spank them (f,b)

Poly!SKZ♡

A little help and more (ChanLix x reader)(s,f)

At the office (HyunLix x reader)(s)

The art of erotica(HyunLix x reader) (s)

SERIES

Me or him - Hyunjin x reader x Felix (a,s)

SugarDaddy!Felix (s,f)

The sun to me (Hyunjin x reader) (f,a,s)

Dolly (OT8 series) (f,a,s)

MEMBER X MEMBER SCENARIOS

CHOOSE YOUR OWN DESTINY SERIES♡

SPOOKTOBER 2024

- this is temporarily here until i make a spooktober masterlist

In the absence of light, darkness prevails (Hyunjin x reader x Felix)

68656c70206d65 (Han x reader)

Fall into me (Felix x reader)

Dolly (Hyunjin x reader)

#skz x reader #stray kids #stray kids x reader #skz smut #masterlist #skz hard hours #bang chan x reader #lee know x reader #stray kids fluff #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #seungmin x reader #jeongin x reader #jisung x reader #lee felix x reader #skz soft hours

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fluffylino · 5 days ago

Text

serpent hybrid hyunjin 🌱🐍🌱

hyunjin never acted like this. you had never seen him behave so much like a serpent. was he experiencing an unusual kind of heat? did snakes do that...well u just gotta find out

i love this concept so much ill scream-

reblogging > liking

-contains mature themes (two dicks and a split tongue ahhh)

snake hybrids weren't exactly judged well in society. stereotypical beliefs calling them mean slithery liars who manipulate people.

they were just misjudged. misunderstood hybrids who needed affection too. maybe the energy exhuded made them look tough and deadly but deep down they were sweeter than even bunny hybrids.

thats why your boyfriend, hyunjin is always by your side.

theres nothing quite different about snake hybrids. except for the patches of scales on different parts of their body.

however some had no scales, instead just forked tongues. hyunjin was no exception. patient and mind numbingly soft at all times. snuggling into you every now and then.

thats why when you step into the house,you aren't expecting the strong whiff of a certain peculiar smell. its musky and fills the whole apartment.

you don't even know what you're smelling until you're embraced by him. his body warm, reeking of musk. intoxicating your senses.

"hyun-" you let out hurriedly, dropping your bag on the ground in shock. his face buried in your neck. hands running all over your body.

practically pushing you against the door, slipping his left hand between your legs while his right hand grabbed your backside. gasping at the way you seem to float off the ground. he's picking you up quicker than you can even process.

"what's going on? baby?" you say, trying to wriggle out of his firm hold. he's stronger than before and he continues holding you off the ground.

hyunjin hisses.

he fucking hisses.

and your eyes widen. thats only the second time he's ever hissed at you. once during an argument and right now. did that mean he was angry?

"heat." is all he says, huffing as he slams the bedroom door open. throwing you on the bed. not caring at the funny way, you bounced on the soft mattress.

"what do you mean? I thought snakes..don't get heats..."

you questioned. watching as he paced around the room, trying to control himself.

taking off his hoodie. arms out on display. shining with a thin layer of sweat. his hair soaked.

"fuck i don't know...i was washing our clothes and i got the smell of your shirt..."

he mumbles, and your eyes go down to where theres a prominent bulge in his pants. a wet patch staining the material.

"and its like my senses went wild. all I was thinking of was you. fucking you over and over again..." hyunjin slurs, his forked tongue peeking out.

"jinnie...your tongue"

you whisper. intrigued at how his tongue slipped past his lips every few seconds. he had never done that before.

"i can't control it-" he covers his mouth, gazing at you with needy eyes.

were his eyes always so sharp, you wondered.

"its okay baby, breathe" you reassure, opening your arms for him to come to you. and he does. resting his head on your shoulder, his weight pressing you down into the bed.

leaning into kiss him innocently when all of a sudden, his hands are on either side of your face, pulling you in for a needy kiss.

brain shutting off at the feeling of his forked tongue licking into your mouth. forcing you to be submissive because you knew you wouldn't win this battle.

🌱

"j-jinnie" squirming under him.

his hands pinning your lower half down. head buried between your legs. your toes curling everytime he maneuvered his tongue to simultaneously flick at your sensitive clit and slip between your swollen lips.

"shhh"

u don't know if he's shushing you or hissing at you.

because the next thing you feel is his fork like tongue pushing all over your folds. fingers digging into your hips with strength that had your cunt throbbing.

whining at the loss as he lifts his head up. teasingly using the tips of his wet muscle to prod at your bundle of nerves. face contorting in pleasure at your taste. breath heavy on your warmth.

"breed." he blurts out, surprising himself. your mouth opening in shock when his nails dig into your waist.

his nails had grown longer, into claws and the once hardly noticeable scales on his forearms became visible. gradient shade of black and grey.

"hyun! h-hyunjin, baby b-bab-"

writhing higher into the mattress as he pushed your legs further apart.

nestling his split tongue over your swollen pussy. teasingly managing to place your clit in the Y of his wet muscle.

had his tongue grown longer because you could feel him so deep...

"h-hyun?" you whisper, gripping his arm to relax your body for him. scales textured and rough under your calloused palm.

"m'right here, baby" hyunjin cooes. placing a hand flat on your lower stomach. eyes fixed on where he was prepping you.

with both his dicks. rubbing the tip over your folds while the other pressed into your entrance. leaking more and more slick that mixed with your own arousal.

"almost in, my love" nudging the first one in with extreme care. your fingers grasping at him. his jaw hanging open as he pushed in, groaning when he slid halfway in.

spreading your thighs so he could start to push his second dick in. the sensation and stretch making you cry in a mix of pain and pleasure.

snake hybrids had two features that only a person who they were close to, would find out about. a forked long tongue means their dicks are the same as well.

hyunjin was not particularly big. actually he was slightly above average considering snake hybrids had longer lengths and lesser girths.

hyunjin had thicker girths and the length of both his dicks were just perfect. neither too big nor too small.

but right now, he felt bigger.

he felt longer. he felt hot.

thats why when he pushes both of them past your entrance, you let out a muffled scream. eyes rolling back at the fullness. quite literally stuffed like this, for the first time.

"f-fuck gonna take me all in"

lowering himself to look down at you. his arms on either side of your head. placing his larger hands on your face. lips brushing against your open mouth.

"thats my precious girl~" and your pussy spasms around him.

getting him soaked because the way the word 'precious' rolled off his tongue, could make you cum on the spot. rolling his s's and a few other alphabets in a serpent like way. something he'd usually never do.

a firm thrust that has your hands flying up to hold onto him. clawing at his back while he buried himself deeper into your cunt. stretching you out with every rough movement.

the scales on his back were larger and travelled down his spine. groaning as you scratched down his back, hard enough to leave red imprints.

"gonna take my cum like a good mate, yes~" hyunjin hisses, watching you so closely. letting his tongue run over your front teeth, all the way down to your bottom lip.

you nod at his statement. wrapping your legs around his waist. pulling him closer. not caring if his patterns of uneven scales scratched you here and there.

plush lips kissing you with such intensity. his nose pressing into your cheek. pushing you deeper into the pillow. trailing a hand down to where your chest touched his. grabbing a handful of flesh and squeezing hard enough to make you arch your back.

taking the opportunity to thrust in deeper. your bottom half nearly lifted off the bed with his strength.

pads of his fingers pinching and pulling at your sensitive nubs. hooking your leg higher so he could change the angle. filling you up with warmth. it makes your eyes struggle to stay open.

this was nowhere near over...

hiss hiss need more snake hyunjin ideas FUVKKKKK

part two

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ot8xbangchansgirlsblog · 1 month ago

Note

Oooh I love your ot8 writings so much!! Would you be able to write one where something bad happened to the reader while the boys are away on tour , like injury or is sad or something?

ℍ𝕠𝕤𝕡𝕚𝕥𝕒𝕝 𝕓𝕖𝕕𝕤

Warning: Angst/comfort/fluff

Summary: Request!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Leeknow, can you please help me put up the chandelier in the study room? I can’t study without good lighting,” Y/N pouted, her eyes wide and pleading as she begged her boyfriend for help.

“Yeah, baby, as soon as I’m done with this,” Leeknow replied absently, barely glancing up from his laptop. He was deeply focused on reviewing and choreographing new dance moves for their upcoming tour. Y/N frowned at his lack of attention and decided to find someone else.

“Channie-Oppa,” she called softly, knocking on the door to his studio.

“Come in, babygirl!” Chan’s voice came from the other side, warm and welcoming. She pushed the door open and stepped inside, spotting Han and Changbin working at a table covered in papers.

“Hey, baby,” Chan said, pulling her onto his lap as she entered. “What can I do for you today?” He rested his cheek against hers, giving her a moment of comfort.

“Can one of you help me put up the chandelier in the study room? I asked Leeknow, but he seems too busy,” she pouted, giving them her best doe eyes.

“Tsssk, maybe not right now, bunny,” Changbin said, brushing his fingers gently along her thigh before kissing her temple. “We need to finish the tracklist for the tour, yeah? Maybe in a bit?”

“Binnie’s right,” Chan added, looking apologetic. “We’re really kind of swamped right now. Maybe in a few hours?”

Y/N huffed in frustration and slid off his lap, crossing her arms. “I don’t like that attitude,” Chan warned, his tone teasing, but there was a flicker of seriousness in his eyes.

“You guys never have time anymore, and I really need to study!” she whined, exasperated.

“Well, if you want us to keep a roof over our heads and have the finances for those expensive cars and Birkin bags you like, we have to make some sacrifices,” Han teased, his expression lightening the mood. Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help giggling as she leaned in to peck him on the lips.

“Fine, I’ll go find someone else to do it,” she sighed, making her way toward the door.

“See you later, baby!” Chan called after her, waving as she closed the door behind her.

Determined to find help, Y/N headed to the conference room, where she found Hyunjin and I.N. along with their manager, surrounded by stacks of papers. Felix was getting measured for some new outfits.

“There are my amazing models,” she chimed, trying to bring some cheer to the tense atmosphere.

“Hey, baby! I’m so sorry, but we really can’t talk right now,” Hyunjin whispered, his expression apologetic. “We’re in a fashion week meeting.”

“Is what you need important?” he asked, leaning in to give her a quick kiss on the forehead. Y/N glanced over his shoulder and realized they were indeed in a serious meeting. She cursed under her breath, then turned back to him.

“Baby, the love of my life—”

“Mhm, what do you want?” he raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Here’s my card,” he said, pulling it out to hand to her. “Buy whatever you need.”

“That’s not why I’m here, but thanks!” she giggled. “Can you or one of the others help me put up the chandelier in the study room? Pretty please?” She gave him her best puppy-dog eyes.

“Yeah, I’ll tell the boys, but not right now, okay?” he said quickly. “I have to go now. I’ll see you in a bit.” He placed a soft kiss on her lips and hurried off before she could respond.

Feeling defeated, she closed the door and made her way to the living room. Then it hit her—she still had two more boyfriends somewhere in the house! Not ready to give up, she decided to head to the instrument room.

She lightly knocked on the door, and I.N. called for her to come in. As she stepped inside, she noticed one of the instructors sitting in the corner, reviewing some papers.

“Hey, babe!” Seungmin greeted her with a warm smile, leaning in to give her a quick kiss. “Everything okay?”

“Can one of you help me put up the chandelier in the study room?” she asked, trying to sound hopeful.

“Maybe after we’re done with vocal practice, yeah?” Seungmin replied, nodding toward the instructor.

“Fine,” she huffed, frustrated but smiling nonetheless. “Thanks, guys!” she said, waving goodbye as she left.

The boys kept pushing her away with their busy schedules, and now the one thing she really needed help with remained undone. She didn’t want to study in any of their workspaces while they were gone; the whole reason they even had a study room was because Chan wanted her to have her own little space. As she walked away, she resolved to find a way to get that chandelier up—one way or another.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The fall happened in an instant. One moment, Y/N was up on the ladder, carefully trying to fix the big chandelier, and the next, she was crashing down, the world spinning wildly around her. She hit the floor with a jarring thud, and everything went dark for a moment.

When her vision finally cleared, she was greeted by a shocking sight: shards of glass glimmered around her like a dangerous constellation, and a pool of crimson was slowly spreading out from beneath her. Her heart raced as she registered the pain throbbing in her head and the sharpness of it radiating through her body.

“Ow,” she groaned, her voice barely above a whisper as she attempted to assess her injuries. Panic began to rise in her throat as she looked at the blood pooling around her. “No, no, no…”

Every inch of her body felt like it was on fire. The tightness in her throat made it impossible to scream or call for help. All she could manage were muffled cries, silent and desperate, as tears streamed down her cheeks.

Y/N’s phone lay just out of reach, the screen dark and unresponsive to her silent pleas for help. Her strength waned, and she felt her limbs grow heavy, as if the weight of her fear was pulling her down into the abyss.

“Help… someone…” she thought, but the words wouldn’t come. The room around her began to fade, shadows creeping in at the edges of her vision. Just as she felt herself slipping away, everything went black.

In that moment, the world faded, leaving only an echo of her own heartbeat and the haunting realization that she was utterly alone.

Beep Beep Beep Beep

The haunting beeping of hospital monitors filled Y/N's ears as she slowly regained consciousness. Bright white light pierced her eyes, making her squint against the harsh glare. A groan escaped her lips as she tried to process everything around her. Pain coursed through her body, sharp and relentless, and her memory felt like a jumbled puzzle.

As she shifted slightly, a cry of pain escaped her when she caught sight of her leg in a bulky cast. Panic surged through her.

“Y/N?”

She recognized the voice instantly. “T/N, you’re awake? Thank God! Don’t scare me like that!” Yeji exclaimed, sitting beside her with a steaming cup of coffee cradled in her hands.

“What happened?” Y/N groaned, looking over at her friend, trying to shake off the fog in her mind.

“You tell me, love. I just came over because we had plans, and I found you on the ground. I think you fell off the ladder,” Yeji explained, her fingers gently caressing Y/N's hand, trying to offer comfort.

“I—I was trying to…” Y/N struggled to gather her thoughts, her head pounding. “I was trying to put up the chandelier, and then I just fell,” she admitted, her voice weak.

“Girl! You have eight boyfriends for all that heavy lifting! Why would you do that?” Yeji questioned, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

“I told them, but they were busy getting ready for tour. They forgot…” Y/N sighed, trying to get comfortable in the stiff hospital bed.

“Well, look where that’s gotten us now,” Yeji softly scolded her. “Speaking of boyfriends, they’re on their way back. I called them.”

Y/N gasped, eyes widening in alarm. “Why would you tell them, Yeji? I’m fine!”

“Y/Nnie, are you crazy?! Have you seen yourself?!” Yeji exclaimed, looking at her like she had lost her mind.

“You have a broken arm and leg, cuts everywhere, and a huge concussion!”

“Yeah, but they have tour, Yeji! Their fans are more important,” Y/N replied, frustration creeping into her voice.

Yeji shook her head in disbelief. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

“One sec, Chan is calling,” Yeji said, picking up her phone. Y/N groaned and closed her eyes, dreading the impending conversation.

The pain medication was strong, and when she next opened her eyes, it was five hours later. The room was filled with low chatter, and as her vision cleared, she saw all her boyfriends gathered around her.

“Hey,” she croaked, her voice raspy but still audible above the noise.

“Baby?” Chan was the first by her side, gripping her hand gently to avoid the IV. “Thank goodness you’re okay.”

“Hey, babe,” she replied, trying to shift for comfort, only to groan again.

“Don’t scare us like that again,” Han added, settling on her other side and placing soft kisses on her hand, while Felix sat in one corner, and I.N. perched on the other.

“Why did you guys come back?” she asked, her brow furrowing as she noticed the concern etched on their faces.

“I told you guys she’s gone mad,” Yeji chimed in from her spot in the corner, shaking her head.

“What do you mean why? Babe, you’re in the hospital with a concussion!” Leeknow said, disbelief lacing his voice.

“What even possessed you to get on that ladder?!” Changbin exclaimed, frustration evident.

“None of you wanted to put up the chandelier, so I thought—”

“You thought you could do it alone?” Chan interrupted, his tone serious. “Do you know how dangerous that is?”

“Well, none of you wanted to do it!” she snapped back, the pain in her body giving way to frustration. “You guys are always busy. I don’t even know why you’re here!”

The boys exchanged guilty looks, realizing how much they had let her down. “You’re right… I’m sorry, babe,” Chan said softly.

“Are you feeling better?” Changbin asked, concern filling his eyes. “Have you eaten?”

“The pain meds are helping, so yeah. But no, I haven’t eaten,” she admitted, her stomach growling in agreement.

“This is the second time she’s woken up; she hasn’t had the energy to eat yet,” Yeji explained, organizing the flowers and teddy bears that had been sent by fans.

“Thank you, Yeji, for taking care of her,” Hyunjin said, his gratitude evident.

“I am the better Hwang, after all,” she teased, a playful grin on her face.

“What would you like to eat, baby?” Seungmin asked, pulling out his phone.

“Anything… I don’t really care,” she huffed, trying to get comfortable again.

“Cuddle?” Felix pouted, his eyes filled with concern. He felt awful seeing her like this and wanted nothing more than to make her comfortable.

She nodded shyly, and he quickly crawled to her side, gently wrapping her in his arms. She leaned back, taking in his comforting scent.

“Did you guys get any rest?” she asked, looking at I.N., her youngest boyfriend.

“No, Noona. We just got here from the airport,” he frowned, his eyes filled with worry.

“Chan—”

“No, no, no. We aren’t going anywhere until they say you can leave the hospital,” he said firmly, his expression leaving no room for argument.

“But come on, it’s just a broken leg and arm, Take them home to at least get showered and rest, and you’ll be back,” she pleaded, trying to convince him.

But it was no use. All of them refused to budge.

So for two days, they all stayed at the hospital, living out of their suitcases and using the hospital bathrooms as their personal ones. Luckily, she was finally released, and they were able to go back home to their comfortable beds.

And as for the tour? Well, that had been forgotten in the chaos.

The ride home from the hospital was filled with a mix of excitement and exhaustion. As they pulled into the driveway, Y/N couldn’t help but smile at the familiar sight of their home. She felt a wave of relief wash over her. Finally, she was out of that sterile hospital room and back where she belonged.

“Welcome back baby,” Chan announced dramatically as they all stepped inside. The house felt warm and inviting, and she was immediately surrounded by her boyfriends, each eager to help her settle in.

“Let’s get you comfortable,” Han said, guiding her to the couch, where fluffy pillows awaited. As she sank into the cushions, a content sigh escaped her lips.

“I missed this place,” she murmured, letting her eyes flutter shut for a moment.

“Not as much as we missed you,” Seungmin replied, plopping down next to her and offering her a slice of her favorite cake. “Here, you need to eat something.”

“Thank you, Seungmin,” she smiled, taking a bite. The sweetness was comforting, and she could feel her energy returning just from the taste.

“I’ll grab you some water,” I.N said, jumping up. “And maybe some snacks, too!”

“You spoil her,” Leeknow teased, shooting a knowing glance at Y/N. “But I guess that’s our job now.”

As the boys hustled around, Felix crouched down beside the couch, looking up at her with his big, earnest eyes. “What do you need, Y/N? Just say the word, and I’ll make it happen!”

“Just having you all here is enough,” she replied, her heart swelling with affection.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Don't forget to reblog and follow! <3

A/N: Thank you anon!

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leeminho-hall · 1 year ago

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.•:｡✧ ♡ ✧｡:•.skz kinktober part I 2023♡.•:｡

list of different kinktober masterlists where stray kids members are included. this list is for me to keep up on track with the different kinktober events taking place in the month of october.

.•:｡✧ ♡ ✧｡:•. skz kinktober part II | skz kinktober part III

♡ kinktober by @tasteleeknow @gimmeurtmi @tasteracha ♡ aphrodisiacs (lee know edition) by @exxxtraoddinary ♡ kinktober by @seungminssangel ♡ kinktober by @sluttywoozi ♡ kinktober by @coupsie-daisies ♡ kinktober by @abiaswreck ♡ kinktober by @skzonthebrain ♡ kinktober by @linopls ♡ kinktober by @skulla-rxcks ♡ kinktober by @jinxhallows ♡ kinktober by @minki-moo ♡ kinktober by @lilykatelyn-blog ♡ kinktober by @in2heartz ♡ kinktober by @hwajin ♡ kinktober by @straykeedz ♡ kinktober by @huihuiheart ♡ kinktober by @ppiri-bahng ♡ spooktober by @cutieleeknow ♡ kinktober by @surfinminho ♡ kinktober by @roseykat ♡ kinktober by @lix-ables ♡ kinktober by @cbini @hyunsvngs ♡ kinktober (male reader) by @meatiey

♡ if you see this list, please remember to support the authors listed.

♡ minors and blank blogs don’t interact with the authors.

♡ this list is subject to change, remove, or add works.

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dwaekkilinos · 8 months ago

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savior complex (pt. 1) | bang chan

summary: Your father had wielded you to become a machine; a weapon. And a machine you would become. Sleep with one eye open. Find food. Tread on until dark. Repeat. He taught you how to protect; specifically how to protect your family. But he never taught you how to survive with other groups, especially when their leader seems to have it out for you.

pairing: bang chan x fem!reader rating/genre: 18+ Minors DNI | strangers/enemies to lovers + zombie apocalypse au, angst, fluff, smut word count: 19.9K chapter summary: you'd always known the end, and it had always known you. you just didn't know the beginning would be waiting for you when your time finally came. warnings/notes: zombie apocalypse au so . . . blood, guts, gore, sad, sad, sad. beware. lots of inspo from every zombie thing i've literally ever seen (twd, tlou, train to busan, etc.), typos probably, parental death, actions of violence and murder, religious TRAUMA, religious undertones, reader does not believe in god but she's deeply influence by it bc of her childhood and it haunts her, reader comes from a small toen and it's not explicitly stated where she's from but hollows are mentioned, hunting, reader wishes for death multiple times, chan goes by chris, no smut in this chapter but there will be in every chapter after, i think that's it but let me know if i missed anything, and enjoy! <3

chapter one: i know the end (and it knows me) ( series masterlist | next → )

Sometimes you felt like a ghost. It happened when the world was so silent that you could almost hear the beat of your unsteady heart pounding in your chest; when everyone else was asleep and you stayed up, eyes watchful and searching for threats. That was when you felt like the lost faces that haunted you.

It hadn't always been this way, at least not until the world ended. Most of the time you tried not to think about it. You tried not to think about much except survival these days.

Because that was smart. Surviving was smart. Anything else was stupid; anything else would get you killed.

Ironic, how you used to fear that very thing. Death. Now it was all you knew.

The apocalypse had come.

You knew how it sounded. Honestly, you didn't believe it when it first happened. You had been too afraid to admit it; too scared that if you did, you could never go back. There was no going back anyway. That was something you wished you had known back then. And as you sat on a log in the middle of those dark woods, overlooking your group who all slept silently while you stayed up, bloody knife in hand, and eyes watching for threats, it was hard to ignore the fact that this was your cruel reality.

Because the reality of it all was: you were living on borrowed time, trying your best to do right by your father and keep your family alive. You'd faltered that night, dotting the line between protection and predation.

And now . . . now you couldn't help but think about the beginning. How you would've never ended up like this if things had been different. But things hadn't been different. Things had happened exactly the way they had, and it'd left you with rot in your bloodstream and hate in your heart.

That was what made you clutch the knife closer, nearly cutting your own flesh. Because things hadn’t been different, but they also hadn’t always been this way. You hadn’t always been like . . . this.

You supposed it was because it was easy to kneel when you were just a girl. It was easy to ignore the ever-present scabs on your knees when you didn’t know any better. It was easy to tear yourself down the middle, pulling stitches from the back of your legs when you knew it’d all be re-sewn by morning. It was easy back then when the world hadn’t died.

From the moment you were brought into the world, barely kicking and silently screaming like it was a sin to voice your pain, you had been taught to be that girl; that easy, complacent girl with not so much as a rotten thought. From the moment you were born, you had been taught the foundation of the Church and its vocation, and it had carved its way into your rotten flesh even when the world was no more.

At age four, you were in the pews, listening to the words of God while creating imaginary friends in the statues. At age seven, communion. Then at age eight, you had begun to become an altar girl, fetching and carrying, ringing the altar bell, bringing up the gifts and the book, among other things—essentially being a servant to God. At age fourteen, confirmation. At fifteen, your mother doused you in holy water before your first date with a boy from school. Sixteen, heartbreak, praying to God and begging for him to help ease it all, only to be left with no response . . . even after all you had done for him.

Seventeen and the stitches down your legs remained undone, the scriptures now more of a question than a statement. Then . . . eighteen, the timer clicked into place, and you felt yourself begin to rot along with the world, forcing you to realize your entire life was just a cycle of kneeling before God, praying, and asking for forgiveness for your sins.

It had been easy to kneel when you were just a girl; when you didn’t know any better. And then it happened.

It.

Armageddon.

The Rapture.

The fucking apocalypse.

It didn’t matter what you called it. Doomsday was still doomsday even dressed up with fancy scriptures and sacred wine.

The apocalypse had come. Humans were deemed horrible creatures by some almighty who you didn't give a fuck to acknowledge. It didn't matter. Someone or something had deemed the human race unworthy.

The apocalypse had come, and you were deemed worthless. You were made to die. It was inevitable.

The apocalypse had come. There was talk that it had begun in the North. But much wasn’t known in your town. Now you realized they tried to keep it a secret. It was a way of controlling everyone, you supposed, but not like it mattered much now.

That was just how things were. Your mother refused to let you and your younger sister watch the news, refused to let you search anything about what was going on in the world, adamant that everything was lies and those lies would cloud your mind. A religious town bordering on a commune that resembled a cult perhaps just a tad too much. You realized all this now, of course, but back then your knees were still covered in scabs from kneeling before a God who would never come. Back then your mother kept you kneeling until the final bell tolled, her hand firmly clutching your shoulder to keep you in place.

You were only eighteen then. And while the outside world was torn apart month by month, its people haunted by death piled upon death, your town continued on as it always had. The whispers of a war that would end the world were just whispers, covered up by scriptures that the local preacher would sight every Sunday morning just after you’d collected the eggs from the chicken coop and put on your best dress like your mother had always taught you.

But it was different for you, even back then. Because while it had been easy to kneel when you were a girl, you had begun to grow. Eighteen then, but you had begun to see the flaws within the Church when you were sixteen. And by eighteen, you knew better.

By eighteen, you could see the sweat beading along the preacher’s forehead. By eighteen, you could hear wavering in your mother’s voice when she proclaimed that this was just a test. That this was meant to happen. That the Bible had always predicted this, and if you remained faithful, then you would be saved . . . spared.

But by eighteen, you knew better.

It took one quiet night and a hammering heart for you to sneak into your father’s study and head straight for this desktop. It took even less time to discover what had become of the world. One. Two. Three clicks and then . . .

You remembered the choking feeling bubbling up your chest as your eyes scanned the news articles. A virus. One so horrible and unforgiving that it could take a healthy vessel, and within twenty-four hours, the body would succumb to death. But, you’d seen stuff like this before, right? You knew there had been plenty of diseases and viruses and they all had cures. They all had to have cures. They had to.

That was just the thing: no matter how hard you looked, you couldn’t find any article that explained how this virus came about. It was unknown, deadly, spreading rapidly, and there was no way of telling when it’d reach your town. It was just . . . just . . . (It was the first time you truly felt helpless.)

You remembered staying up with the sun, looking for answers, only to come out empty-handed. And when your father discovered you in his study that morning, you nearly confessed right away, sobbing into his arms. But no shame was brought upon you that day.

Your father had been a good man. He had loved you so. He had loved his family, no matter the consequences or conditions.

This town, your town, was small. It consisted of around only three thousand people give or take, all of which were either Christian, secluded, or . . . your father. In all the years you had been alive, not once had your father stepped into the Church. You never asked. You never worried. Your mother just always told you your father was busy every single time, and you believed her because back then, you’d trusted her with all of you.

As you grew, your suspicions of him did, too, but you remained silent as you always had in life. And it was only until that morning when he wrapped you in his arms and let you cry into his shoulder, did you realize why he never entered the Church, why he never spoke the prayers your mother praised, why neighbors would talk of his name only in hushed conversations.

He didn’t believe.

No, he believed in something just not . . . this sacred word your town so desperately worshipped. And that morning, he told you the truth. From his childhood to how he ended up in a town like this. He told you it all, and then he told you the truth. He told you how your mother was scared (how she always had been) and how one day he hoped with enough trying, she’d see the world for what it was ( . . . she never did). And then he told you about the virus, and everything was so much clearer.

The town had everyone convinced this was some kind of test. There was no virus to them. This was the reaping. The scriptures were true to them. And so every Sunday, you were forced to acknowledge that Pestilence, War, Famine, and Death—the Four Horsemen of the apocalypse had come to earth with the power to destroy humanity.

That was how it had been explained to your town, and all its people believed. A sickness had struck the world, yes, they told that much truth, but they chalked it all up to being some kind of plot point in God’s plan. To top it off, it was said that if the townspeople all repented and did right by his name, then salvation would be given.

That was what was told, and that was what was believed.

You remembered the preacher’s voice even now.

Then I saw when the Lamb broke one of the seven seals, and I heard one of the four living creatures saying as with a voice of thunder, "Come." I looked, and behold, a white horse, and he who sat on it had a bow; and a crown was given to him, and he went out conquering and to conquer.

— Revelation 6:1–2

That scripture haunted you just as your father’s face did, but back then you hadn’t realized the detriment it would have on you. Back then, you played your part. Back then, you dressed as your mother advised, went to church, and listened, and then, when all was said and done and your mother had gone to her room, you snuck off to accompany your father on his hunts. And during those times, you’d learn the truth.

While the two of you hunkered down, waiting for deer to pass through your side of the woods, he told you about what was going on with the rest of the world. He explained how the CDC had claimed this thing; Pestilence (as your town believed) was some kind of virus, yes, only they wouldn't release the survival rate except for a few things that stated it was deadly, spread rapidly, and anyone could have it, but by the time symptoms had started to kick in, it would be too late.

As the weeks went by, as the more hunting extravaganzas you went on with your father piled up, his news became more worrisome. At first, the virus was contained in the North of the world, but as it took more lives and less information about it was being provided to the public . . . people began to panic. Hysteria spread throughout the world. Cases of this unknown virus peaked, and the government released statement after statement informing the public that face masks would be required to prevent the virus from spreading and travel restrictions would soon be put into place.

Only by that time, it was too late.

Carriers of this unknown virus had already traveled far and near, spreading the disease throughout the world. This so-called Pestilence might have only been given reign to a quarter of the world, but his disease had spread farther than his radius.

And while you had been young, you realized that this virus had only one purpose: to kill. There was no survival rate. No hope.

The world shut down soon after more and more people started dropping like flies, succumbing to the miserable disease that left them with boils and blisters covering their skin. Hospitals became overrun. Schools were wiped out with kids coming home with this deadly virus. Workplaces were abandoned, the people wishing to stay at home with their families, too afraid to step outside without any real knowledge of how this virus worked.

Your town remained oblivious, too, as the region shut down, gates being made so no one could enter or leave. It was safer that way they claimed. All of those who could be saved would be saved and helping those seeking a refuge was against the rules. It all felt like some kind of sick plan if you had anything to say about it.

By the time your father had taught you how to shoot your first deer without you sniffling in fear, Vaccines were finally attempted, but nothing worked; the disease only spread, and more people died.

Then . . . it all just stopped.

But your town continued to spread its lies.

The story remained the same even all these years later. You remembered how while you had learned the virus was supposedly coming to an end, your town still painted the picture of the Horsemen. Tales of Pestilence’s reign still remained.

They went on and on about how he rose from the depths of Hell. Pestilence had come. He, who sat on his white steed, had a bow, a crown that had been gifted to him by his gods had come, and when he had, he went out conquering. And so he did.

Until he was put to rest; until his conquering had come to an end. You listened with half a heart as the preacher went on and on about how his time had ended, yes, but this was not the end. All you had to do was keep praying, keep repenting, keep . . . kneeling, and you’d be saved.

But you knew better.

While others would attend midnight mass in addition to morning, you claimed you had to pray on your own, and when your mother had left with your sister on her hip, you snuck off with your father to learn of the world. You snuck off to better your shooting arm, to seek comfort in the only person who seemed to have their head screwed on right, to shoot ducks and geese and deer and everything in order to keep your town fed while everyone else prayed to a God that wasn’t doing half your work. And yet, every time, every kill, your father knelt beside the animal and prayed, until you had begun to do the same.

You weren’t sure why he did it. You had never asked. You never thought you needed to. (Now you would’ve done anything to know the answer.)

And so . . . life went on like that. Completely cut off from the world without the help of the internet your father provided for the two of you, life went on.

The virus no longer spread further, and many believed it was all just some hoax. News stations came to life again, but not much else was restored. That was how everyone found out the virus had concluded. Hell, even you remember being twenty-one years old, having your first legal shot with your father in the middle of the woods while the two of you watched news reporter after news reporter claim the virus had mutated and mutated so much to the point our bodies had accumulated a natural resistance to it.

But you couldn't believe it.

Three whole years of this deadly disease taking out population upon population, and then it all ceased. It felt almost too good to be true.

Of course, the town believed this too. Pestilence had conquered, and that was just the problem.

Every day, day in and day out, words spread throughout the hollow, the word in the Church mutated each week, even your mother who had spent the last three years praying to Jesus, Joseph, and Mary; your mother who had gone through rosary after rosary begging for God to have mercy on your family; your mother who had always forced you to attend those days at church on Sunday went around the house, boarding up the windows and hiding the special silverware in the basement, claiming that he would come next.

He has conquered, she had hissed over your shoulder when you and your father came back from one of your hunts.

Pestilence's reign had ended (according to your mother, who you were almost certain had a few screws loose). You didn’t believe it for a second, ignoring your mother's desperate ramblings.

War will come, she warned.

War will come.

But . . . you knew if something did come, it wouldn’t be this War.

And then . . . then he did.

The first sighting of the dead coming back was spotted just months after the virus that had plagued millions had ceased. And this time . . . the town allowed its folk to see the reports. Even your mother had brought the television from the basement to witness the dead rise . . . or rather . . . War. The news stations had captured a recording of these . . . people; people who had suffered from the virus coming back, and then with only their teeth, tearing any live thing apart. The recording was aired all across the world, fear, and hysteria spreading like wildfire.

The government was still up and running at this point with only one mission: to shoot down these seemingly reanimated corpses before they could cause more harm. People believed this to be a fluke, but your mother's words had stuck with you.

War will come.

It was all a little hazy now, but you remembered bits and pieces of the world back then. War had been quick, ruthless, and determined.

This was no man. This was War.

And it all became clear soon after.

While Pestilence had been silent, War had wanted an audience.

The things he could do; the people he could hurt . . . it was all so gutting. Those lost to the virus kept coming back, all with one purpose: destruction. With one bite, their victims would soon fall ill to that same virus, and then once it had taken their body, they’d come back, reanimated with the same gruesome purpose.

The government finally fell when the dead could no longer be stopped. Quarantines dropped, people ran, and everything just . . . stopped. These creatures tore through cities, sinking their teeth into civilians. And you watched it all on the television, until that, too fell, leaving the rest of the world in the dark.

That was when you realized just how real all of this was. That was when you realized the past three years of hunting with your father was not just something the two of you would look back on and laugh about one day when this virus was over. No . . . it seemed . . . it seemed you couldn’t quite see the end or maybe . . . maybe you could and that was the problem all along.

Your father, the man he was, tried to remind you that this was not War; that this was not the supposed God’s plan everyone was convinced of in your godforsaken hollow. And you tried to hear him, but for a while, you wished to be like everyone else in the town. You wished you could believe this was some greater plan. You wished you could believe that this was all because of some Horseman . . . but you knew better, and your father seemed to know this as well.

(And yet, when you thought back on it now, the stages in which the world ended still presented themselves as the Horsemen in your troubled mind.)

Because, well, you supposed that was truly when the world had ended—the day War came.

War will come, your mother had warned, and you knew that to be true the day the electricity stopped working. War had come, and he'd taken civilization with him. And while he reigned over the quarter of the world he'd been gifted, the rest of the world lay in the dark, trying to navigate throughout this new world.

From time to time you had heard talk of distant wars. You, however, had never seen one.

But War's ruthless hand still reached your town.

There was no news or contact with the outside world other than the people you could see with your own eyes. No transportation, no government, no nothing. It was said that cars had even been abandoned on highways as people tried to leave town to find their families. But they never got far; not with this newfound order bestowed upon the earth.

Because truly . . . War did not need to come to earth to corrupt it.

The government had fallen, the world had ended, the apocalypse had begun and that was all it took for chaos to ensue. People became their worst selves at the end of the world, you'd been told all your life through media upon media. But you had to disagree. You thought, perhaps, the end of the world brought out who people truly were deep inside. It allowed people to let go of civility.

And you discovered people really were perhaps even worse than this supposed War himself. Or rather a product of War and his righteous hand.

(Although, how righteous could he truly be?)

While War reigned, the rest of the world scavenged. Your family stood stagnant in your childhood home, holding up there for as long as you could. It was still warm when the second wave hit. You knew you'd need to find a different shelter when the time came.

The cold wasn't your only problem either. People were at their worst. When the news broke out in your town, the scriptures they held so dear began to fall apart. A lot left, some stayed, and others turned on each other, leaving houses with bloodstained splatters and a fear of thy neighbor. Your family stayed, however. Your mother read scriptures every day. Your father recited the truth. And they argued, while you sat by the window, terrified out of your mind as you watched the empty streets.

That was when you realized another truth about yourself. You were just about to turn twenty-two, the world had gone to shit, and you had never been so scared. Pestilence. War. Famine. Death. Their names raged on inside your head and it was as if you were still just a young girl, kneeling in church despite the scabs. Except now, you were a girl who could no longer kneel in church, and yet you were still so scared.

It felt cruel. Perhaps even unreal.

The scriptures had predicted this—the four harbingers coming down to scorn the earth. But you hadn't believed it. You were forced to now.

It was War’s reign back then. But Death would come one day. He had come to kill you all; to finish off everything his brothers hadn't touched, and one day he would.

It had been predicted. The words stuck in your head even now.

When the Lamb broke the fourth seal, I heard the voice of the fourth living creature saying, "Come." I looked, and behold, a pale horse; and he who sat on it had the name Death; and Hades was following with him. Authority was given to them over a fourth of the earth, to kill with sword and with famine and with pestilence and by the wild beasts of the earth.

— Revelation 6:7–8

Your mother told you long ago of these scriptures. When you were a child, you'd cover your head with your blankets, hiding from the mysteries of the night. Somewhere in your innocent mind, you'd convinced yourself the devil himself would find his way into your room, wrap his bony hand around your ankle, and drag you to the pits of Hell.

Back then you'd feared death. You'd done everything to steer far from its clutches.

She’s afraid of the world, your peers would hiss under their breath, not knowing you'd heard every word. And you knew they were right. You knew you had always been a scared kid, trying your hardest to keep the monsters at bay.

You wished you'd realized there had been no real monsters . . . yet. You would've lived more. Now you knew the consequences.

Now there was no more living, just surviving.

Still, sometimes you found yourself missing it; missing life. It was a bitter thought—what could've been had the world not ended all those years ago.

Back then—before the end—you'd feared death.

How far will this go? you remembered thinking back then when it was still War’s reign. How long until things are normal?

You didn't have the stomach back then to come to terms with the truth. You barely remembered it now.

But you did remember the day everything truly changed for you.

Up until that day, you'd been following your father's orders, huddling up in your home with your mother and little sister as the four of you survived day by day. Then . . . your house had been broken into, the intruder coming in through your window.

Back then you had feared death. You had thought you were going to die.

You'd thought this up until the very last scream ripped through your throat just as your father emerged from the shadows, a look on his face you’d never seen, moments before everything went red. You remembered that to this day. While everything else was blurry, that moment was clear. You could still feel the blood splatter on your face as you watched your father—the man who used to tie your shoes for you before you hopped on the school bus—kill a man before your very eyes, ripping out his jugular with his bare teeth.

Once a girl who could no longer kneel in church, became one painted with the blood from another. And you remembered a small part of you—the part that had once knelt so much her knees had turned to scabs—that this was all War’s fault.

You thought it until you watched the man pale, falling to your childhood bedroom floor with a thud. You remembered how his eyes stayed wide open, locked on you as he gurgled and choked on his blood, bleeding out onto your pink carpet. He didn't blink. Not once. Not even at all. They stayed cold and empty as your father breathed heavily above him.

And then you looked at him.

Your father was a good man. He was kind and just, despite the town. He believed in science and facts. He wanted the truth. But none of that mattered if his family was at stake.

Your father was a good man. He loved you, and he would’ve done anything for you.

Your father was a good man.

Your father had ripped out another man’s jugular in front of you.

Your father was a good man.

Your father had killed someone.

This was the end. You knew it, and it knew you, too.

(It wasn’t talked about, and you never brought it up again. He simply embraced you in a tight hug and kissed your forehead, leaving a smudge of blood from the man in doing so, and whispered apologies that would never sink deeper than your skin.

(Now you wished you would’ve told him you understood. Now you would’ve looked at him and seen an image of yourself staring right back. Now you would’ve hugged him back.))

That was all it took before your father took it upon himself to gather your mother and little sister, put all necessities in the car, and collect enough portable gasoline as he could before the four of you set off down the road. Where you were going was undetermined. There was no knowing . . . because there was nowhere to go.

The world had ended. There was nothing left. You just had to go.

You have to grow up. No more kid stuff, your father said to you that night on the road while your mother and little sister were fast asleep in the back of the car. One day I might not be here to protect you. You have to learn to protect yourself.

And you'd promised him you would. Because you had to. You had been old enough then, after all. You had been twenty-one . . . technically an adult.

(Now, however, you realized you had still been too young. Twenty-one wasn't old enough to face the end of the world.)

But . . . what happens when a scared young girl is forced to grow up too soon? She turns into a machine.

Sleep with one eye open. Find food. Tread on until dark. Sleep with one eye open. Find food. Tread on until dark. Sleep with one eye open. Find food. Tread on until dark. Repeat.

Your father had borne that burden back then, when you first set off on the road. The car hadn't lasted long. Not that it mattered. The world was a wasteland anyway. Walking from town to town on the vacant streets and highways was nothing new now.

You just have to survive, he kept telling you. Survive long enough to keep them alive.

And you always knew what he meant. He was training you for the day when he would be no more. Because when that day came, you would be the one left in charge. He'd turned you into a machine because that was the world you lived in. You were the oldest. Your sister was barely five years old back then. And your mother . . . your mother who once believed this was all some greater plan, was now convinced that if she prayed hard enough it'd stop Famine from following after his ruthless brother.

It was your job to remember what your father had taught you when Pestilence first came to reign—how to hunt, how to shoot a shotgun, and now . . . how to survive.

And when Famine came; when you caught sight of the words Famine has risen spray painted on a billboard on the side of a highway, reminding you of your sick home. It was then you finally learned how to survive. You didn't realize how hard it would be until a year after Famine's birth, your father had passed because of you (because of a stupid decision that you had made which you still couldn't bring yourself to acknowledge).

Survival became all that you knew after that.

Your father was gone. It was just like he had warned. You were in charge now, and you had one purpose: keep your family alive.

The burden became yours to bear.

This was your purgatory and you'd do well to repent for what you'd done; for the man you'd sent out to die; for the father you'd lost.

Survive, survive, survive. It was all you knew.

And when the final Horseman rose, you knew what you had to do. It didn’t matter if it killed you, you couldn’t let your family die at the hands of one of those . . . creatures.

Death had risen. The entire world was a wasteland filled with undead and wars made by man.

If you crossed paths with one of those creatures and let them lay a finger on your family, your oath to your father would be broken. Death would kill you all.

So you kept going, trying to outrun the inevitable.

Because you had to. For him. For your father. For the ghosts that haunted you.

Your father had wielded you to become a machine. And a machine you would become.

Sleep with one eye open. Find food. Tread on until dark. Repeat.

The routine was ingrained in your brain, going on and on like a mantra. You couldn't escape that. Not that it mattered. Survival mattered. Keeping your group, your sister, your mother, and your family alive mattered. They were all that mattered. You would skip as many meals as your body would let you if it meant they'd stay fed.

Sometimes you found yourself laughing at how naive you had been in the past. At twenty-five now, you were equal parts machine and woman, still oozing blood when wounded despite your protests. You didn't tremble at the sight of blood now. You didn't fear death.

When you were a kid, death was your greatest fear. Now, you envied it. Envied the fact you had to walk the earth; the same earth the dead destroyed. Because you couldn't die. That was the harsh truth: you couldn't die.

You'd feared death for so long and now as you sat awake, keeping watch while your group slept, you yearned for the clutches of death to drag you into nothingness. It was almost laughable.

In a world where people now fought for their lives, trying to outrun the dead, you wished to succumb to death. You knew it was wrong, and you'd never speak it aloud, but you yearned for it. This world was shit. Complete and utter shit, and you wanted to give up. Everything in you wanted to just wait like some brainless sitting duck and let Death or disease or even those wretched beasts you heard groaning in the dead of night have their way with your hollow body.

But you couldn't . . . not when you promised your father you'd protect them. He'd died for you, and it was your duty to keep your family safe. Your duty.

You couldn't die, not when you had to keep them alive.

So you let yourself turn into a machine.

And a ruthless machine you had watched yourself become.

That night had been enough evidence of this. Because that night as you sat on a log, slowly dragging yourself out of the past and into the present, you realized one thing. A bloody knife sat in your hand while you watched over your sleeping group, eyes searching for any sign of the dead, and that was when it dawned on you that you had been right all those years ago—the end of the world brought out who people truly were.

You were a machine. You didn't feel. You couldn't.

Glancing down at the bloody knife in your hand, you realized you hadn't felt anything that night.

That night you'd done something you never thought you would. That night your group was attacked by a man with a gun; a man who wanted to harm; a man who had put his hands on your little sister. She was only eight going on nine, and she was your responsibility, and as soon as his hand clamped down over her shoulder while he held a gun to her head, threatening to pull the trigger unless you gave up all your food, you lost it.

Everything went black. You couldn't see. You couldn't breathe. You couldn't even think. You just felt this pure blinding rage.

When you finally regained your sight, you realized what you'd done—you'd killed the man.

No, killed was too vague.

Like the true machine you had become, you had slaughtered him; the bloody knife in your hand was evidence enough of that.

The man was dead, a chunk of his jugular ripped out while he clutched the many stab wounds piercing his stomach. And you . . . you stood above him, eyes wide, bloody knife in hand, and the bitter taste of blood on your tongue.

You'd never killed anyone before. You'd put people out of their misery, but you'd never taken another life like this. You'd never had to.

But you had that night.

And now you paid the consequences.

It had been hours since then. No one had spoken a word since. And your sister . . . your little sister had only looked at you once since then, and you could see the utter terror her round eyes held. Normally she would sleep by your side, but she'd curled up next to your mother that night.

She was afraid of you, and you couldn't blame her. You had once given your father the same look.

So you sat alone on that damned log, bloody knife in hand as you thought back on how you managed to end up in this Hell. Sometimes you felt like a ghost, and now you knew why.

Your brows pinched together. You couldn't help but think: is this what your father had intended?

How much of a machine had he meant for you to become? Were you supposed to clutch onto the part of yourself that was still human? Or had becoming a monster been part of the deal when you'd signed off your soul for machine parts?

You weren't sure. You weren't really sure of anything anymore.

Your sister had looked at you like you were one of the monsters that plagued your earth, slowly destroying it region by region.

Were you no better than the dead to her?

You swallowed hard.

Had you become a monster?

“You did what you had to do,” you heard a deep voice from behind you, perhaps answering your thoughts.

But you didn't jump as you turned to see Felix sit down on the log beside you, exhaustion weaving through his delicate features. You didn't speak a word, just stared at the side of his face for a second before you glanced back down at the bloody knife in your hand.

You did what you had to do.

You nearly laughed. It was just like him to say such things.

You see: Lee Felix had joined your group around the same time Famine took his reign, and ever since then he'd been following you around like your own personal shadow. That was three years ago now. Your father had saved him, offering him to join your family on the road. Perhaps your father had seen something in him. Or maybe he had just saved him simply because that was just who your father was: a hero.

Not that it mattered. You'd taken a liking to Felix, too. He was kind.

Kind had been rare back then. It still was.

And Felix stayed kind.

When your father passed, Felix stuck by you. Your mother had begun to look at you as if you were a stranger, and your little sister still had been too young to understand much. Felix had made life easier.

You'd taught him everything you knew partly because you needed to and partly because you liked being around him as if he were the younger brother you’d never had. Little bird, you called him . . . because you'd taught him everything. You'd taught him how to survive. And sometimes you thought maybe you would've been friends outside of this. If things were different, if you'd met in a world where the apocalypse hadn't happened . . . then you'd like to think you could have met; that your paths would've crossed.

But things weren't different. You weren't even sure if you could let him in entirely. Your friendship would surely put him in some sort of jeopardy. Because, really, it all came down to survival, and you needed him to live. You didn't care what happened to yourself. You just needed to stay alive long enough to make sure they'd all make it.

That still didn't stop the feeling of relief that washed over you as soon as you felt him lean into you, arm touching yours. He was trying to comfort you in the way that he knew, and you couldn't help but lean against him further.

He was still just as kind as the day you'd crossed paths.

But you?

Well . . .

“I ripped his throat out . . . " you heard yourself roughly mutter before you felt the words tumble from your tongue. You lifted a hand to your blood-stained lips and swallowed. “I ripped . . . throat . . . his . . . with my teeth.” You swallowed once again, harder this time as your eyes drifted to your little sister's sleeping figure. She had been so scared. You had done that. You had scared her. “She looks at me like I’m a monster.”

”You’re not."

“Lix."

“You’re not,” he reiterated, his voice as harsh as he could manage (which was not harsh at all) while he clutched your blood-stained hand and took it into his. “You did what you had to do.”

Your eyes flicked down to your hands. But you didn't look at him. You couldn't. You just kept thinking and thinking and seeing that look on your sister's face. And then . . . then you felt yourself say. ”She says all life is precious. She cries when we have to put down a squirrel for Christ’s sake. I should’ve known. I should’ve—”

”She’s just a kid."

“I didn’t have to kill him,” you continued. “There was a point where I could’ve knocked him out. I thought about it. And I still killed him.” Your eyes finally snapped to his then. “I wanted to kill him, Lix.”

A muscle in Felix’s jaw twitched. ”It’s people like him that make me wonder if this world got it all right,” he admitted after a second. “I’m glad he’s dead. I just wish I could’ve been the one to do it.”

Your breath hitched at his words, not because they'd shocked you . . . but rather because you found yourself agreeing. But that wasn't . . . right. Felix was kind. You were not. He was good, and you . . .

”You don’t mean that,” you mumbled, squeezing his hand. “You’re not . . . “

”Not what?” Felix countered, eyes searching yours. “Hmm? Not what?”

You blinked, your throat constricting. ”Too far gone,” you choked out.

His brows twitched, his expression softening. ”Neither are you."

His hand touched your face a second later, his thumb wiping the dried blood from your chin. You weren't a monster in his eyes. You were just his friend. He didn't fear you, but you knew he should've.

But for a second, you let yourself forget this. Instead, you closed your eyes, allowing him to clean your face of the man's spilled blood. And when he was done, your eyes fluttered open just in time to see him try to reach for the knife in your hand, probably to release it from your tight hold.

However, you shifted it out of his grasp. His eyes snapped to yours then, questioning.

You offered a weak smile—something you didn't do often, but would for him. ”Sleep,” you hummed, patting his shoulder. “We need your brute strength in the morning.”

”We need your brain more,” he countered, tapping a finger to your forehead.

”Sleep, little bird."

He rolled those round brown eyes. "I wish you'd stop calling me that."

Nevertheless, Felix listened to you. He shifted down onto the ground, resting his head on the log, crossing his arms over his chest as his eyes closed. And you watched him until you were sure he was resting soundly. Then, your eyes went back to watching, making sure to keep your promise to your father.

But just as you were sure it was just you and the silence of the night again, you heard Felix’s voice filter through your ears, ”You’re not too far gone."

You swallowed hard but said nothing.

You're not too far gone.

Oh, how wrong he had been.

As if like some sort of phantom, your knees had begun to itch like they used to after mass all those years ago. For the first few days, you tried to ignore it, writing it off as poison ivy or not bathing for a few weeks, but even when you’d scratch, the itch would remain. You came to realize that this wasn’t something you could write off; this wasn’t something that hadn’t been caused by anything other than . . . you.

A few nights ago, you’d killed a man. You’d ripped out his throat with his teeth, and for a second too long, you’d enjoyed it. Now . . . now you wondered just how deep your guilt ran. Now you wondered if given the chance, would you do it again?

But you already knew the answer.

Your knees had begun to itch once again . . .

And you tried to ignore it. Honest, you did, but his screams; how easy it was to bite into his flesh; the bitter taste of metallic blood on your tongue which oddly tasted too similar to honey; the life in his eyes quickly dissipating as you towered over him like a predator to its prey; all of it kept playing in your head over and over again. You couldn’t escape it, not even when night came and you were forced to close your eyes.

His face was always there.

Sometimes you wondered if any of it had actually happened. Sometimes you wondered if none of this was real or if you even were. Sometimes you wondered if this man had been Death; if the tales your town preached had been real and this was your test.

Sometimes you wondered if you had failed.

And you knew you had.

At night, you could hear your mother whispering prayers under her breath, pleading to the heavens that she and her daughter would be spared. And every time, you knew which daughter she meant. Every time you knew she was praying to be spared from you. Every time you knew it was you who she feared the most in this world. And every time you wondered if one day he’d finally answer her prayers.

You couldn’t even blame her, because a few nights ago you’d done the one thing you’d never thought you’d have to do—kill a man. You knew you were some kind of fucked for that alone.

Then, last night, you began to wonder if this was how your father had felt. You began to wonder if this was why he was dead and not you. You wondered if he’d done it to save you, and to put himself out of his own misery.

And then you began to pray, too. You’d stopped believing in God years ago, but it was an old habit that you sometimes indulged in for some sick kind of comfort. And this time, in the dead of night, you’d shut your eyes and beg for your father’s ghost to return to you. You begged for just one more minute. One more minute and he could tell you how to deal with this; how to survive this, too, just as he had taught you how to endure everything else.

But no ghost ever came, only the perpetual darkness galloped in, consuming you whole.

Your father was gone, and it was all your fault. Guilt was your ghost, not him.

He would still be here if you hadn't—

"Mom thinks you've been possessed by the devil," your little sister's voice brought you out of your mind.

You blinked once. Then, you glanced down at her, taking note of her skeptical eyes and furrowed brows. It was almost as if she were inspecting your face, trying to decipher if you, her older sister, really were possessed as your mother had claimed.

It had been the first time your sister had spoken to you in the past week. The four of you had been walking through the woods, steering clear of the main roads ever since you’d come into contact with that man—the man whose blood you could still taste on your tongue.

She’d taken to walking hand-in-hand with your mother, just a few feet behind you and Felix as the two of you led the way into the unknown. You didn’t know where you were going. You never did. That was the thing about the end of the world—the only thing that mattered was surviving day by day. There was no end-point.

But today while you led the group through the woods, eyes searching for any rodents or small animals to capture for food, your head stuck in the past, your sister had taken the chance to walk into step with you. And those . . . those had been her choice of words.

Mom thinks you’ve been possessed by the devil.

And now with the world a ghost of itself, you thought perhaps maybe your mother could be right. You’d changed. The world had changed you. The old taste of blood on your tongue was evidence enough of that.

You’d killed a man. You’d ripped out a chunk of his jugular with your teeth and plunged the very knife in your belt into his flesh over and over again until you were sure he couldn’t do more harm.

Kill or be killed, sure, but . . .

. . . You’d still killed a man.

You’d actually taken a life.

(You weren’t expecting it to haunt you this much. But it had. You could still see his face, hear his voice, smell him, feel him. He was still very much alive in your mind, haunting you like a ghost.

It didn’t matter if he was more monster than man . . . you had still killed him. You had still taken a life without a second thought. His evils didn’t matter . . . guilt still seeped in.)

Mom thinks you’ve been possessed by the devil.

And maybe you had been.

That would’ve been easier to fathom.

But instead of voicing these thoughts aloud, you adjusted your backpack on your shoulders, touched a finger to the knife tucked into your belt to make sure it was still there and tightened your grip on your father’s shotgun in your hand before you finally spoke.

"Mom's off her meds," was all you offered. It was all you could say. And it hadn’t been what your sister was searching for.

Your sister stepped back, allowing you to walk alone. You knew you were losing her. You knew she barely trusted you now just as your mother stopped considering you a daughter.

And you couldn’t blame them.

The end of the world brought out who people truly were, and you were someone not worth saving.

The sun had begun to set when you finally declared you’d be stopping for the night. It wasn’t a solid resting place, which meant another night of no sleep on your part, but that didn’t bother you much anymore. All that mattered was there were no signs of the dead, no low groans in the distance, no immediate danger, and the small creek running just a few meters from your camp would provide just enough for you to wet your face and clean any dried blood from your skin. That was what mattered—a temporary sanctuary.

Felix had taken to accompanying your little sister to the creek, while your mother gathered small twigs and broken branches to add to the fire you had just started. But your eyes never stopped watching your little sister, keeping an eye on her to ensure no danger would reach her or Felix while you were occupied.

That was your only concern. Your second was food. There had to be some crawfish lingering in the creek that you could fry up. That was your second concern right after the fire was steady enough to last until nightfall.

With a soft sigh, you forced yourself to tear your eyes from your sister’s smiling face. You tried to ignore how she smiled at Felix while he splashed water at her. You tried to ignore the soft laughter you could still hear as you stabbed at the fire with a branch. You tried to ignore the thought that she’d never look at you like that; never laugh like that with you; never trust you like that again.

You tried to ignore how you had become more of a loose end your family needed to tie off, than a daughter or an older sister.

But you couldn’t. The thought was always there. There it would remain, you were sure of it.

Clenching your jaw, you added the branch in your hand to the fire, watching it crackle under the embers. And for a moment, you wondered what it would feel like if you were to reach forward and let the flames lick your fingertips.

Had he felt like this, too?

Had your father had these thoughts before he died for you?

Did he ever wonder if—

“You’re just like him, you know?” your mother nearly whispered, tearing you from your mind as she set down the pile of branches she had collected.

You glanced at her once, then glared into the fire. “Is that supposed to hurt me?”

She shook her head only once. “It should scare you,” she clarified, standing to her feet so she could tower over you once again. “God’s plan—”

“God’s plan?” you immediately spat out with a humorous scoff, now standing to your feet as well. You were taller than her now, unlike when you were a kid; unlike when you used to do everything she told you; unlike when she still considered you her daughter. “What does God’s plan have to do with my father?”

A muscle in her jaw twitched. “He has protected us this far. He couldn’t save your father. I’m worried if you continue down this path, he won’t be able to save you either,” she muttered back as she clutched the cross around her neck as if she thought it would ward you off like you had become one of the evils she’d warn you about when you were just a girl.

But you were no longer small; you were no longer moldable by her hand, and now, you were only made of anger. “You think God’s the reason we’re alive?” you questioned her, eyes narrowing into slits.

Your mother remained silent but clutched her cross harder. And you knew what that meant.

Your eyes flicked from her hand to her face. Then, you took a step forward, chin jutted out. “Is it God who kills so we can eat? Is it God who got us here, to this point? Is it God who holds dad’s gun?” you bit out as you touched a hand to your chest. “God doesn’t have a fucking plan.” You drilled a finger into your chest, your angry eyes never leaving hers. “I do. And God couldn’t save dad because it was supposed to be—”

But your words halted in your throat. You couldn’t admit it to her. You couldn’t tell her you were the reason behind your father’s death. It didn’t matter if she already knew. You just . . . you just couldn’t admit it to her face.

“God doesn't fucking exist,” you muttered out instead, turning away from her. “And if he did, he’s sure as hell dead now.”

“Your father filled your head with lies.”

You turned back to her, eyes glaring into hers. “Bullshit,” you scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. “He was the only one who ever told me the truth.”

Ignoring your words, she took a step away from you, her hand remaining on the cross around her neck. "Your father . . . I knew he was deeply flawed when I married him, but I just figured he’d change. I figured he’d see the way, instead he only got worse, but he knew when to control it. He knew right from wrong,” she went on, her voice steady, but her eyes had begun to water. And you knew tears would come, and when they did, you’d leave to kill the crawfish. "But, you, honey . . . I don't know where we went wrong with you. It's like you came out of the womb defective. You got all the bad traits of your father and nothing else. I look at you and I see this angry little girl. And, you know, sometimes I ask myself how in the world we managed to raise a daughter who is even more deeply flawed than her bastard father, but I never seem to know the answer."

There were the tears now.

But along with it came a knife in your chest that kept twisting and twisting the more she spoke.

Twist the knife, and she did.

"There's something wrong with you,” she whispered again after a moment’s silence, the tears starting to roll down her cheeks. “You frighten me.”

Twist the knife, and you refused to pull it out.

This was what you deserved.

Still, you didn’t cry, not for yourself. Never for yourself. Instead, you continued to stare at her with no emotion in your eyes as you muttered, “Talking ill of the dead is a sin, remember?” And then you began to turn.

But your mother’s hand landed firmly around your arm. “Don’t you turn your back on me, girl,” she warned, her words sharper than the knife she’d twisted into your chest.

Swallowing hard, you sucked on your teeth. “What else do you want me to say?” you questioned, but didn’t bother to turn and face her. “I have nothing else to give you, mom.”

She released your arm as if you’d burned her and hissed, “Don’t call me that.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion for a mere second before you realized what she meant; before you realized what you’d said; what you’d done. It was an honest mistake, as well. You hadn’t called her that in so long, and yet it still came out. You hadn’t meant to say it, but it still came out as if you were still small and thought the whole world was in her arms.

“Then what do you want me to call you?” you asked, your voice quieter now as you took a step back. “If not mom, then what should your daughter call you? Hmm? Or is the answer nothing? Is that what we are to each other now? Will that make God come down from the heavens and give us salvation? . . . If you abandon me?”

Your mother remained silent.

And you knew her answer.

Sucking on your teeth, you nodded in acceptance. “What?” you spoke in a whisper as you took another step back. “Am I not being loud enough for him?” You outstretched your hands at your sides, gesturing to the heavens. “Should I scream it? Will he finally fucking answer then?”

“Stupid girl—” your mother quickly scolded, grabbing you firmly by the arm— “don’t you dare put this family in danger,”

But you only tilted your head in question. “Does that include me?”

Her eyes fluttered, taken back. “What?”

“This family,” you reiterated. “Am I a part of this family?”

Once again, she remained silent.

But you knew the truth.

“God’s plan as long as I’m out of the picture, right?” you muttered under your breath, swallowing hard once again. “At least we finally agree.”

Then, you were tearing your arm out of her grasp, but you didn’t move, you didn’t even look away from her. Instead, you kept still. You kept your eyes locked with hers as if breaking that eye contact would sever the final string holding the two of you together. She didn’t speak either, and she refused to move. She wouldn’t move first. You knew that. She’d always been that way. So had you . . .

And when you were sure the world had begun to rot around you, you could have sworn her bottom lip quivered as if she were on the verge of saying something . . . anything. Only, when her lips parted a mere sliver, a shrill scream sounded from behind, and the perpetual darkness of your world crept back in through your peripheral vision.

Beat. Your heart shot to your throat.

It happened too quickly for you to think.

Beat. Beat.

You heard the scream and you knew your sister was in trouble.

Beat.

Without a second thought, you dropped everything and ran toward the scream; toward the creek; toward your sister. It wasn’t far, but it was far enough for you to catch sight of two of the dead. One Felix fought off, while trying to grab his knife from his belt. The other had found its way to your sister, pinning her to the forest floor as she thrashed and screamed, her weak limbs desperately trying to keep the thing from sinking its teeth into her flesh.

And you knew what to do.

For a brief second longer, there was screaming. Then the squelch of a knife being plunged through a skull. Then nothing.

The world faded away. No noise. No people. No nothing.

One. Two. Three seconds, then the world started to return.

Breathing heavily, you watched carefully as your mother rushed past you, tearing the dead corpse off your sister and holding her closer . . . closer than she’d ever held you. Your nose twitched for a mere second as your gaze shifted from your mother and sister staring at you in shock ((?) no, maybe it was horror) to the stilled corpse, and finally to the bloodied knife gripped tightly in your hand.

You’d killed that thing, yes. But you hadn’t even thought about it. You hadn’t stopped to think that this thing was once a person. You hadn’t even seen it as such, unlike your mother; unlike what the town had tried to drill into your head during Pestilence’s reign. And . . . you could see that realization in your mother’s eyes.

. . . You were getting worse.

Your legs had begun to weaken at the thought, but you quickly stabled yourself, afraid they’d see it as another sign to put you down like the violent dog you knew they saw you to be. Instead, you tore your gaze from the knife in your hand and met your mother’s eyes once again (but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet your sister’s tearful stare). “Tell me, mo—” you quickly stopped the word from tumbling from your tongue, then went on— “is this still what God’s plan looks like to you?”

But your mother didn’t reply, and you didn’t wait for her to. You could barely stand to hold her gaze for a second longer. Instead, you wiped the blood from your knife on your pants, shoved it back into your belt, and turned, walking back to the fire you had begun to make minutes before.

And as you walked, you took note of the silence which followed you. You took note of how even Felix hesitated slightly before he followed after you. You took note of how your mother and sister sat near that creek for a few minutes longer and didn’t bother to wander after you as if you were no longer their blood.

The final string tying your family together had begun to wear thinner. You wondered when it would finally snap. You wondered how long it would take for a violent dog to succumb to its instincts; how long it would take you to become the lost cause you knew you were destined to be.

Would they make the decision to put you down then?

Four days. Two sleepless nights. And one squirrel shared between the four of you. You felt a fever coming on a couple days ago. You saw the infected cuts from the fight with that man. You knew your body was weakening day by day.

If you didn’t stop soon, you’d sure become one of the dead.

But you tried your best to ignore it. You had to.

Your mother; however, remained hopeful (of course). You could hear her chattering on to your sister throughout the day while you watched the world.

According to her, no one really knew why the Horsemen came to earth. She claimed the world needed saving from certain people (what you were sure she was leaving out was the fact that she was convinced you were one of these people). So, she went on and on and on, and you quietly listened, too, because you were still a girl who used to kneel in church, after all; because you could still feel the bruises on your knees; because you could still see the scars left behind from the scabs.

So, you listened, but you did not believe.

The world was fucked and needed cleansing. People were inherently bad and God saw no other way for salvation (apparently) than to send his four loyal Horsemen to destroy Earth and its people. . . . Well . . . supposedly. You knew the truth; however. There were no Horsemen. There was just death. Something had gone wrong and no one really knew what, so they blamed it on some higher power.

Whatever.

(Supposedly) Pestilence had been a shadow. War had wanted an audience. The world fell before you could get a proper grasp on Famine. And now Death was here. He’d been walking the earth for two years now, and still no one knew why.

Just like the town, your mother had her theories. And while she believed this God was still on your side, still searching for the good in humanity, you thought him fucked up. The human race was just his playthings.

He’d made sure there was nothing left.

Hell, you knew there wasn’t even a god. The world was just fucked. The end.

Point blank: it didn’t matter. Nothing did anymore.

Survival was all that mattered.

Everything else was fucked.

And as you continued to lead the way into nothingness, listening to your mother’s ramblings about the Bible, all you could do was ignore how your knees had begun to itch once again, while you focused on one thought: survive, survive, survive. But . . . not for yourself . . . for them.

Survive long enough for them.

For your father.

For your sister.

For your mother.

For Felix.

For them.

By sundown, Felix managed to find an abandoned warehouse for the night. It wasn’t much, but it was better than sleeping out in the wild. Perhaps all of you could get some shuteye that night. Sure, luckily it was around Fall or maybe just before where it was still warm, but sleeping on logs wasn’t ideal. (Not that you could be picky. Not that you were.)

But, just your luck, sleep never found you.

Beside you, Felix softly snored, laying on his back with his arms crossed over his chest and his head resting in your lap. Your hand found its way to his dark waves, gently scratching his scalp as he slept. It brought you peace where you normally had none.

Sometimes you wondered when Felix would finally realize the monster you’d become. You wondered what it would take. How many more people would you kill for them in order for him to look at you as if you were a stranger?

You didn’t want to see that day come.

It’d already come for your mother the day your father died. Then for your sister when you’d butchered that man. You couldn’t bear living through Felix’s realization.

With a sigh, you glanced over your shoulder, eyes landing on your mother’s sleeping figure as your little sister curled up into her side, miles away in her dreams. You hoped it was better there; that her dreams were still pure and innocent despite the world.

You tore your eyes from them a second later, instead opting to glance out the large opening in the warehouse where a window used to be. The world was so bleak now. Even the sight of the empty lands before your eyes stirred nothing within you. It was just so . . . distant.

Nothing was left.

Truly.

Reluctantly, you shut your eyes, trying your hardest to drift off into sleep, but the pounding in your head and the scratch in your throat kept you up. You were getting worse. You squeezed your eyes tighter, hoping this fever would subside soon. The world was darker now, the nothingness intensifying. You weren’t even sure if you could sleep anymore. Had you been? You couldn’t remember.

But just when you were sure sleep wouldn’t greet you that night, forcing you to keep watch, you could’ve sworn you heard an inhuman howl echo throughout the darkness beyond.

Your eyes snapped open, heart hammering.

No.

It couldn’t be.

Another howl echoed throughout the air. But this was no howl from a wolf or even a beast.

You’d heard stories from survivors in the towns you’d passed through in the two years Death had taken his reign over your lands. You’d heard the stories of Death and his steed. His steed, pale in color similar to a corpse, was rumored to have this cry.

The cry was no ordinary cry. Death’s steed cried similar to a wolf or rather a beast, hungry for blood. It was a war cry—a warning sign.

Of course, Death was not real and there was no horse with their cry. No, you knew what this was. You’d heard these cries in smaller amounts. You’d heard these cries as you plunged your knife into each undead’s brain, killing the parasite living within. And a howl like this only meant one thing—a horde.

You swallowed hard.

Death was near.

You’d thought the undead didn’t horde unless . . .

The man.

Your eyes widened.

The night the man had attacked your group, you had managed to hotwire a car. That had been your plan. You were going to use that car to get your group farther and safer. But because of that man . . . because of what you’d done to him, you’d accidentally popped one of the tires in the process, forcing your group to stay the night in those woods when you should’ve been on the road.

And his screams . . .

You’d slowed down and made yourself known, and now they were following the noise.

And . . . it was all your fault.

You exhaled a shaky breath.

Death was coming.

Immediately, you swung into action, quietly waking Felix up. His eyes questioned yours before he, too, heard the war cry.

Death was coming. Felix knew this now, too.

The two of you silently awoke your mother and sister, Felix informing them of the matter they had on your hands, while you gathered your father’s shotgun, crouching near the window for a better look. If they were near . . . how near?

You swallowed hard.

Maybe you could still run. You could still get everyone out if you ran. It could work—

But then you saw it.

In the distance, you caught sight of the undead as they cried, following each other.

You checked the gun’s chamber, removing and reloading the cartridges just to make sure they were in place in case you were forced to fire. Your grip tightened and loosened, and you could hear Felix whispering your name, but your eyes were transfixed on the horde up ahead.

Death was here. So close. Too close.

They couldn’t see you now, couldn’t hear you, but . . . if you ran, they’d catch sight of you. They’d kill your family. They’d kill Felix. They’d kill you all.

There was no way you could outrun the horde. Not when they were this close; not when they could smell you; hear your every breath.

Fuck.

You wanted to scream.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Your father had trusted you. They all had. And now you were going to let another person down all because you’d been stupid one night. You’d fucked all of you.

“Snap out of it,” Felix whispered, his hand on your shoulder. “Ideas?”

You could only shake your head.

Felix swore, running his hands through his hair. "There's no way," he nearly gasped at his words. "Fuck."

You swore you felt your heart drop as you slumped against the wall. They were going to die. Because of you.

There was no way out; no way any of you would make it past the horde without them noticing. The moment they saw any of you, they’d follow you until they could get their teeth into your flesh. And while you had no care for your own life, you still had care for theirs—the people you'd sworn to protect.

Your father had died for all of you. He knew it wasn't safe, and he still went out. He'd traded his life for yours. He'd made you swear to protect your mother and your little sister, and along the way, you'd sworn to not only keep them safe but to keep Felix from harm. You'd sworn that, and you were not one to fall back on your word.

There was no way out together. But . . . there was one way out.

You knew what that meant.

This was what your father would've wanted. This was what he would've done; what he had done.

It was always going to turn out this way. You'd known that.

And in that moment, you accepted that. After all, you'd always been told you were your father's daughter.

This was how you made things right.

You nodded at your thoughts.

Then, you felt your eyes burn, your brows scrunching in confusion. Wetness slipped down your cheek and you briefly touched a finger to the tear, finding you were crying. You hadn’t cried in so long.

Angrily, you wiped the tears away. You didn’t get to cry.

This had been your fault in the first place. This was how you made it right. You didn’t get to cry. You didn’t.

So you sent one last glare at the horde up ahead, then turned to Felix. Fuck. He would be the one in charge now. You trusted him, yes, but you knew how heavy that burden was. That was what you would regret the most—putting Felix through this agony, too.

Still: "Little bird," you whispered.

Fearful tears were already in his eyes. "I wish you'd stop calling me that."

"Can't help it. I taught you how to fly," you hummed, voice soft and unlike you.

You both knew what you meant. You'd taught Felix how to fire a gun, taught him how to gut a fish, you taught him how to survive—you taught him how to fly. But he didn't need any more teachings. Like a baby bird, he'd flown from the nest ages ago. He could fly without you. The thought brought a melancholic smile to your chapped lips as you fought back the burning in your eyes when they met his worried gaze once again.

"Makes me feel important." You touched a hand to his cheek. He felt soft under your calloused skin. "But . . . you don't need me anymore."

Felix exhaled with a strained choke, his eyes widening in realization. "No," he rushed out, shaking his head as his soft brown eyes searched yours. "No." His hand enclosed around the one you'd touched to his cheek. "Don't. Don't."

You knew what he meant. Don't be the hero.

But that wasn't his decision to make. You had debts to pay; people to protect.

Living had never been something you wanted in a world like this. Sometimes you felt like a ghost; when the world was quiet and your heart beat a little slower—you felt like one of the many corpses you'd passed by on the daily.

Years ago, you promised your father you'd take over his job and protect. You'd never wanted to live, but you had forced yourself. Back then, you made a promise to yourself—you had to stay alive, not for yourself, but for them; you had to stay alive for the one you had lost. And you'd upheld that promise, but now . . . in order to save them, you had to break it.

You knew this.

Felix did, too.

He rested his forehead against yours. "Please. Don't. It's supposed to be you and me."

Your eyes squeezed shut. "I'm the reason he's dead."

The two of you knew what you meant. This was how you repaid him; how you repaid your father.

"Then let me do it," Felix muttered, hand dropping from yours to grasp the shotgun in your other hand.

You were quick to rip it from his hold. "It was always going to turn out this way," was all you said, and he knew what you meant.

The sound of the cries coming closer made you spring back from him. Your head swiveled, taking in your surroundings as your hands found their rightful place on the shotgun. Your eyes briefly found your little sister's—her round eyes wide with fright, only furthering your decision. You knew doing this for them, for her.

"Fine," you heard Felix hiss in a quiet whisper. "But I'm coming with you."

Your head snapped to him. "Like hell you are."

"You don't get to die."

"Neither do you."

"Then I guess we have a predicament."

Your eyes softened. "Lix."

His brows pinched together. "You don't get to die."

And you almost felt yourself smile. "Little birds are meant to fly," you hummed. Little birds are meant to fly; they aren't meant to die.

He shook his head.

You swallowed hard.

The cries grew closer, and your heart raced. You were out of time. This was your last goodbye.

You gripped his hand. "Protect them."

He latched onto your shoulders. “No. No. I’m not ready. Don’t make me say goodbye to you.”

Against your will, your bottom lip trembled. “It’s not.”

But it was. You both knew that.

Felix could only shake his head. “Please.”

“See you later, little bird,” you hummed, weakly, kissing his forehead before you tore yourself from him. And he reached for you, begging you to stay.

But . . . no amount of pleas could change your mind. You were already moving before Felix could stop you. You didn’t have the heart to glance back at your sister or your mother. You never wanted to live in a world like this, but if you looked back, you feared you might’ve found salvation in their eyes. You couldn’t put them through that. You’d put them through enough.

You worked quickly. You had to. For them.

The quiet cries of the horde approached, moving slowly. You kept your eyes on their figures, stealthily stepping down the creaky stairs to the bottom floor. From there, you moved to the woods surrounding the area. You quickly crouched down in the dark forest, clutching the shotgun even tighter. This was your father’s, now it was yours, and you were going to use it to save your family.

You weren’t naive enough to think that you could actually kill all of them. But that didn’t matter. You were solely supposed to be a distraction. You would fire that damned shotgun at those things over and over again, not caring if it even did any damage. You just needed to keep their attention long enough to get them to follow you in the opposite direction. That would allow your family to escape. That was all you intended to do.

You knew there was no surviving this. And you were fine with that.

Death didn’t scare you. Not yours, anyway.

So you hunkered down, hands clutched on the shotgun as you waited for the horde to get near enough to strike.

You heard them before you saw them. The cries echoed throughout the dark night, making your heart pound faster. It became louder and louder, so loud you felt yourself start to tense, and then the first came into view.

It came to a gentle halt, almost as if it had been expecting you. But that couldn’t be. It hadn’t seen you. You were still in the clear.

Still, you watched, remembering the lessons on hunting that your father had taught you. This was how you hunted—quiet, hidden, and alert.

The creature tilted its head back, eyes closed as the moonlight cascaded across its pale face. Your brows scrunched in confusion as you watched it, tilting your head to the side. It was almost as if it were basking in the moonlight, soaking up the feeling of the satellite shining down on it. And then you realized what it was doing: sniffing you out.

Behind it, the world was bleak as the rest of those damned creatures sauntered forward. The trees seemed to sag, the grass stale, and it was quiet, so very quiet. Every step they took, decay followed.

And then they began to move . . . toward the warehouse where your family still resided.

Your jaw ticked as you raised the shotgun. Your father’s instructions rang through your ears and you lined up the barrel, aiming at one of the creature’s chests as it was perhaps the only part of it you had direct access to. You were certain the impact wouldn’t kill it, you were almost certain it wouldn’t even hurt it, but . . . it would distract it, and that was all you needed.

Last week, you killed a man. You ripped out his jugular with your teeth. You’d slaughtered him. So this, killing this entity shouldn’t have made your stomach churn, but it did.

Your world was gone. Death remained. And it was all his doing.

Still . . . still, your finger hesitated on the trigger.

You would die tonight . . . by its hand, no doubt. And perhaps that scared you. Perhaps a part of you truly didn’t want to die. But you dumbed down this hesitation to just pure fear.

Fear that those things would find your family after disposing of your body; fear they’d kill them; fear all of this would be for nothing.

You swallowed hard and adjusted your grip on the gun. You had to try. Your life for theirs. It was that or you all died tonight, and you wouldn’t have that, not after all you had done; all you had put them through.

All you had to do was pull the trigger. And yet . . . you still hesitated.

Fuck. You closed your eyes, clenching your jaw as your heart hammered in your chest. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

And as your eyes remained closed, you heard their voices then.

You're not too far gone.

Mom thinks you’ve been possessed by the devil.

There’s something wrong with you. You frighten me.

You have to grow up. No more kid stuff.

Your breath hitched. You have to grow up. And you had. Too quickly you now realized. It was always going to end up this way.

This was the only way to save them. The only way.

Your eyes snapped open, catching sight of the creatures still sniffing the air like they could just smell your terror. You sucked in a breath, then pulled the trigger. Exhale.

The ringing in your ears was almost immediate and the explosive sound echoed throughout the silent night. You barely even noticed the shotgun’s kickback, too focused on the creatures before you, watching with wide eyes as the pellets hit one of the things, knocking it entirely to the ground.

The others cried out, their noses no longer needing to be depended on as their eyes searched for the origin of the noise. And then you caught the eye of one, and you knew it was the end.

You faltered at the sight, stumbling backward as you tripped on a root, causing your body to hit the ground. A low groan escaped you before you could stop yourself.

Fuck.

Had that been too loud?

Heart pounding in your chest, you slowly glanced up, eyes landing on the creatures. More eyes stared back at you, hungry with . . . something as a few had begun to make their way toward you.

You swallowed hard.

Death itself had seen you.

Acting fast, you hastily grabbed the shotgun. You weren’t sure how long you could keep this up, but you needed to buy your family more time. You needed to end this.

And end it you would.

You clutched the shotgun tightly in your hand and sat up, groaning slightly when you felt a sharp pain in your ankle. But still, you went on.

Remembering your father’s teachings, you knew what a machine was good for at the end of its reign: making a lot of fucking noise.

And so with a heavy heart and angry tears pricking your eyes . . . you belted out a loud yell.

There was no hiding now. They had all heard you. And that was all that mattered to them.

“Come on, you fuckers!” you took it a step further as you yelled at them, clanking the butt of your gun on a tree to make as much noise as you could. And then, when you heard their cries echo with yours; when you saw one turn to two turn to ten following you into the woods, you knew it was time.

With a fleeting look at the warehouse where your family still resided, you fought back the urge to crawl into yourself and let that anger you’d been holding inside yourself for years now finally just . . . snap. You didn’t know if you fired the shotgun at one of the creature’s heads first or ran off further into the woods, still screaming. You didn’t know the present from the past, but you did know you couldn’t look back.

And so, you let yourself be loud, screaming for yourself, for the people you’d lost, for the people you’d never see again, for your father. You yelled and yelled, racing through the woods as they all quickly followed after you, releasing cries of their own.

The world fell behind you in those moments, time moving in slow motion as you weaved through the dark woods, your feet bounding off the ground as if you were in zero gravity. Sound evaded your senses, only the muffled noises of your rapid breathing could be heard echoing in your ears.

But you just kept running, letting the world escape you. Even when you’d trip over hidden roots, your knees buckling as you fell to the ground, surely bruising and cutting up your skin, you persisted each time. Like your father’s daughter, you pulled yourself to your feet each time, sparing a glance over your shoulder only to be met with the sight of the horde getting nearer and nearer. And every time, you’d force yourself to swallow the bile crawling up your throat before you cocked your shotgun and fired into the horde, taking off screaming for them to follow after you.

This was the end, and you planned to gather as much of them away from the warehouse and closer to you. You knew it would hurt, but you didn’t care. Their teeth ripping into your flesh would never be a match for the sins you’d committed in this lifetime. That was why you met every dead that got in your path with a lethal hit from the butt of your shotgun and a silent prayer that your damned soul could be traded for the safety of your family.

You were sure you would have continued running had your foot not slammed into a divot in the ground, twisting your ankle with such force that you hit the ground instantly, crying out in pain. And this time when you tried to stand to your feet, you realized the pain was too much to stand.

It hit you then.

Beat.

This really was the end.

You couldn’t run.

Beat.

The horde was gaining on you.

This was the end.

Beat.

Swallowing hard, you clenched your jaw, shutting your eyes as you realized what you needed to do. Clutching your father’s shotgun close to your chest, so close it nearly touched your heart, your lips parted, and a scream bubbled up your throat, ripping through your vocal cords as it echoed throughout the dead of night.

But before you could inhale and breathe out another war cry of your own to match theirs, a hand slapped over your mouth, muffling your screams. Another hand was gripping your arm the next second, pulling you off the ground and shoving your back against the nearest tree.

Your eyes shot open, dropping your shotgun as your hands instinctively clasped around the wrist of the hand covering your mouth. Deep dark eyes stared back at you, a sense of urgency in them as you realized what was going on.

It happened so fast, too fast for you to process. But you quickly realized the eyes belonged to a man not much older than you. Dark eyes. Full lips. Sculpted nose. It was your first time seeing a man other than Felix . . . other than the one you’d gutted . . . in a long time.

What was he doing?

But you couldn’t ponder long as his eyes twisted to the scene behind you, and you could’ve sworn you felt his heart beat faster against your lips where his hand still lay. And at that sight, he kicked into action.

“You listen to me. We have a few seconds before those fuckers are at our throats,” he spoke in a hushed tone, his voice deep and controlled, but you could sense the fear on him. It was different from yours. “When I tell you, you run as fast as you fucking can in that direction and you don’t stop. You follow me and you don’t get lost or you’re dead.” His hand fell from your mouth as he began hastily digging through the pack over his shoulder. “Got it?”

You skipped a beat, not answering.

His eyes were on you instantly, expectantly.

But you only blinked.

You didn’t want to be saved.

No, he couldn’t do this. It was your time. This was your punishment. He couldn’t—

Your thoughts were cut short as he pulled something out of his pack, and you quickly realized a grenade now sat in his hand. Your eyes widened. He was going to—

“Run,” he bit out, an order.

And it all happened so fast.

You stayed put.

He turned from you, quickly pulling the pin and chucking the grenade as fast and hard as he could from your location. You watched the weapon soar, your heartbeat stilling in your throat as the seconds of anticipation crept upon you.

Beat.

Be—

A loud explosion sounded in the distance, the ground shaking beneath your feet as ringing in your ears commenced. Only then did you realize your feet had been moving on their own, carrying you farther and farther away from the scene as you caught a glimpse of the horde following after the explosion. But you wouldn’t do this. You had accepted your death. You wouldn’t—

Your feet weren’t moving of your own volition. The world had fallen away from you, you realized, but as you turned your head away from the horde you realized it was the man who was dragging you away from the scene. You realized in your daze, that he must have locked his grip onto your arm and took off running, dragging you along with him despite your injured ankle and dormant mind.

And for some reason, despite the urge to fall to the ground and let yourself fade away, you allowed him to drag you further and further into the woods. You didn’t realize just how much land you had covered until the sound of the horde was so far, that he’d begun to slow down ever so slightly. You didn’t realize until the woods turned into sparse grassland, until the sight of what appeared to be a latched roof to an underground bunker of some sort. You’d heard of shelters like these, but you’d never seen one. You always just assumed the military had covered it all up, leaving people to die while they sat safely under the barren earth.

Your mind raced with a million thoughts, but you could barely see straight let alone think right as you allowed this man to drag you to the entrance. Hell, you allowed him to shove you inside, as you crawled down the ladder in the tunnel. It was a subconscious action, honest. Otherwise, you would’ve begged him to leave you outside to die. But there was no breath for begging as he followed in after you, shutting the hatch and twisting it closed to ensure it was tightly locked.

And when your feet finally met the metal flooring of the inside, you stepped back in shock.

As you had predicted, this was a government bunker. A rather large one at that. You swallowed hard. Fuck.

And when you turned around, your eyes searching the area, you were met with the scene of a group of survivors staring back at you in confusion. People. And they were alive. You hadn’t seen so many people since before Famine.

What the fuck?

But before you could react, something hard cracked over the back of your head, throbbing pain followed. The darkness seeped in instantly, your mind losing control of your body as you smacked the ground, eyes fluttering as you faded in and out of consciousness.

There it was, you realized.

Your punishment.

You were going to die.

And you couldn’t help but allow yourself one last selfish look because maybe there was still a small part of you that wanted to be alive. But that part could only live if things were normal again, if things were the way they had been before the world died. Still, that part of you took over and you watched silently, your vision fading in and out as you caught a glimpse of those dark eyes that had saved you, just moments before the world faded into darkness.

The next time your eyes fluttered open, a metal ceiling stared back at you.

There was a throbbing in your head, searing through your thoughts, and your shotgun was nowhere to be found. You released a soft groan, trying to shift in your spot, but you were met with resistance. You tugged and tugged, but your body didn’t budge.

In confusion, you glanced around, finding yourself on a medical bed, your hands tied together with rope, attaching you to the bed. This didn’t make sense. You hadn’t seen a bed in months maybe a year now. This didn’t make sense. Where were you? How did you—

And then . . . then the memories all faded in.

The warehouse. The man. The shots. The horde.

This was Death’s doing.

The town had warned you of this and you’d denied it. You still didn’t believe. You couldn’t. God was dead and the Horsemen were just a figment of fearmongering. But for a second, you wanted to believe. For that second you were strapped to that bed, you wanted to believe that this was your purgatory and Death was punishing you. That would be easier: if you believed.

Death was an entity; one you had no idea about. There was no knowing what exactly he could and couldn’t do. And this . . . being bound to a medical bed with not even a soul to be heard felt utterly ordinary if he did exist, considering what you did know about this dark being.

But . . . why were you still alive?

Slowly, you lifted your head, groaning at the pain that followed as you assessed the rest of your body. You were alive. Cuts and bruises everywhere, but you could still inhale, exhale, breathe. You could still hear the beat of your heart if you closed your eyes and focused. You were alive.

You were alive.

Your jaw twitched. “I’m alive,” you whispered to yourself, a bitter taste left on your tongue. “I”m . . . alive.”

And for a second, you truly allowed yourself to believe Death existed. You allowed yourself that he had done this to you; that the two years he’d reigned all led up to this very moment. You allowed yourself to believe that he had kept you alive because suffering was for the living.

Was this his way of being kind? Sparing you?

Swallowing hard, you glared up at the unfamiliar ceiling. If you prayed, would he give in? Would he end this suffering? Would he finally give you your punishment?

Your mind wasn’t allowed much longer to ponder as the sound of a door opening brought you out of your repenting. Wearily, you watched with stern eyes as a man stepped in, carrying a bowl in one hand and a washcloth in the other. You watched as he let himself in, still not looking up while he closed the door behind him with a heavy sigh and finally . . . glanced up, meeting your gaze.

Him.

The man.

Slowly, your face softened as confusion consumed you. Him. He had done this to you. He had been the one to lead you here. (He’d also been the one to save you . . . ) He had knocked you out cold. And now . . . now here he was.

You clenched your jaw hard.

The man just stared a minute longer at you, his gaze stern, cold, calculating. Then, he was walking toward you, resting the bowl on the bedside table beside your head before he reached forward and tapped a finger to your chin, tilting your head so he could analyze the wounds on your face.

And you let him, analyzing his actions, preparing for his next.

“You’re awake,” was all he simply said as he dropped your chin and diverted his attention to the bowl on the bedside table. “Sorry about the blow and the rope . . . it’s . . . protocol.”

But you remained silent, watching.

"Your stunt back there . . . could’ve cost us this entire place," he muttered, his voice calm and controlled but you knew he was seething inside. He remained quiet as he dipped the washcloth into the bowl of what seemed to be warm water before he turned to you once again, his eyes lethal. "Screaming only attracts more of them, don’t you know? If you wanted to die, you should’ve just stayed put.”

You swallowed thickly.

There was something terrifying about a quiet rage.

"There's always someone like you," he continued, his eyes racking up and down your body in a menacing glare before the warm touch of a washcloth to your cheek startled a quiet gasp out of your lips. "Someone who ends up surviving longer than they should have." A scoff left him. "Someone who doesn’t care who dies for them as long as they get out unscathed. Did you even think there might be other survivors around before you took off attracting all of those things? If there were children? Families? People who survive together and want to stay alive without running into someone like you?”

And you hadn’t.

You never thought yourself to be stupid or any of the sort. You hadn’t been thinking. There hadn’t been enough time. You just needed to do something so your family could make it out alive. You hadn’t thought that there could be others. You hadn’t thought that saving your family could damn another.

Had your mother been right about you?

Were you really just a stupid girl? A stupid girl playing hero?

The man pulled a chair from the corner of the room, and placed it beside your bed, sitting on it as he dragged the washcloth down your arms now. His touch was somehow gentle despite his glare. Perhaps it was because no one had touched you so gently in so long. Perhaps it was because you had given up, but you let him clean the wounds on your body as you rested your head back onto the pillow, your muscles relaxing ever-so-slightly.

"No?" he questioned, reiterating his accusation. “In my experience, people like you don’t find themselves in trouble like that unless they’re planning something.”

You remained expressionless as you watched him, taking in his words. He thought you’d lured the dead here, and for what? Looting? Or just plain insanity?

Had you really become that corrupt even a stranger could sense it on you?

Slowly, you blinked, wondering if your father had ever felt this way before his death. And as you wondered, the man beside you continued cleaning your wounds, but this time, remained silent. Maybe he realized you wouldn’t answer. Or maybe he already knew the truth about you and your damned soul.

And as the minutes of silence ticked on, you did your own inspection.

Now, under the light, the man sat beside you, his eyes fixed on meticulously cleaning each wound with care despite his lethal words. It had been so long since you’d seen another man like this; a man that had to be around your age; a man so young yet so riddled with age. His dark hair was slightly curly, more tangled and messy than anything as if he hadn’t slept in days. The dark circles under his equally dark eyes were enough to show his evident sleep deprivation. And yet, he seemed almost too alert: his full lips were hidden as his teeth worried his bottom lip while he continued to clean the blood from your skin.

(You’d be lying if you said he wasn’t beautiful; so beautiful it almost made you believe in God once more.)

And for a second, you let yourself wonder what else your mother had been right about. You let yourself believe once again. You let yourself be a girl who could finally kneel in church without bruises being left behind. For a moment, you let yourself believe that she and the town had been right; that this whole thing was God’s plan; that the Horsemen had come; that they could be saved, but you would be condemned.

Then . . . you began to wonder if you had already been. Maybe it was the blow to the head you’d taken or the fever raging through your body or maybe it was the truth, but you began to believe that perhaps this was your purgatory; perhaps you had died in that horde and you’d been sent here; perhaps the beautiful man beside you was Death himself.

Was this it then? Were you always meant to see him at the end?

Oddly enough, he reminded you of this small dog your sister had found near one of the abandoned houses your family had stayed in over the years. This was during Famine’s rule—when food became sparse, when lands became stale and yellowed; when the dead had only just begun to migrate south. This tiny dog found your younger sister then, and she’d brought it home, leaving you no choice but to care for the little thing.

Your sister had named her Berry. (A few months later you had to put her down; it was what we had to do to survive, you’d told your sister back then. You were sure it was then she first started to hate you.)

And as you stared at Death, taking note of how his eyes were a particular shade of brown, you realized they were the same shade that the silly dog had.

You tilted your head. Death somehow had eyes that were kind; eyes that were warm; eyes that reminded you of Felix. Was that how they planned to transfix you? Was Death meant to be this beautiful; this familiar so you’d go willingly? Had God forgotten you’d already condemned yourself? Had he forgotten you didn’t need to be tricked? Had he forgotten where your prayers resided?

Only a moment later, when you felt his hands running over your torso, did you snap out of your exhaust-ridden daze. You realized quickly he was cleaning the last of your wounds which resided on your ribs. And when he was done, he tossed the washcloth into the bowl without another care before he slowly leaned back, arms crossed over his broad chest as he watched you with scrutinizing eyes.

Death narrowed his gaze, but it wasn’t menacing this time. Rather, he seemed almost perplexed. "Why aren’t you fighting?" he questioned. "You didn’t stop to run before. Why calm your fire now?"

Why aren’t you fighting?

The thing was: it was over. Your fight was over.

Sure, you were still trying to wrap your head around the fact that Death was painfully beautiful . . . but it went beyond that.

It was surely daylight by now.

Daylight had come, hours had passed, and Death had you in his hold.

By now, Felix had probably taken your mother and sister onto the road again. They’d escaped, and they were miles and miles away from you and Death. They were safe.

So . . . where was your fight?

You didn’t have one anymore. This was the end. Death would either kill you or make you suffer again and again and again, and your family would live. You’d once told yourself that you never wanted to live in a world like this, but you’d kept yourself alive to protect your family. Only now . . . you didn’t need to fight because there wasn’t anyone left for you to protect.

Your fight was over. Maybe you could rest now. Maybe he’d let you.

Death seemed to catch onto the shift in your demeanor as he narrowed his eyes. "Do you not speak?"

For a moment, you considered not replying. Until: "There's no point," you heard yourself say, voice dry and hoarse.

The look on Death’s face was unreadable as his eyes shifted across your face, his mouth slightly parted. "You smell of death," he muttered, gaze still searching your being.

And you almost laughed.

Because this was your end, and Death himself just told you that you smelled like shit or well . . . like him, you supposed . . . apparently.

It all felt a little unreal.

Death must not have liked your silence as he shot you one last glance before he pulled away and walked toward a table on the other side of the room. As he walked, you caught sight of the blood painting his body, his skin, him.

You swallowed hard. You’d brought that horde to him. He’d fought his way out. You’d caused those wounds, and now he was more than likely going to do worse to you. He’d probably take that scythe you were told he carried and cut your head clean off.

But unlike what you thought, Death sifted through the miscellaneous items on the table before pausing and grabbing a small knife. Your brows furrowed in confusion as you watched him approach you, knife in hand.

There it was.

This was the end you were promised.

Was he going to slit your throat and leave you to bleed out? Or cut you open so you could see just how dark your heart had become? You wouldn’t put it past him. Hell, you might have even welcomed it. But as he approached you, your eyes closing in anticipation, he did not bring that knife down upon your body. No, instead, with a few quick motions and the sound of the rope being cut, you slowly opened your eyes just as your hands were released from the rope’s grip.

On instinct, you brought your hands close to your chest, rubbing your raw wrists. You couldn’t even speak, you just watched as he kept the knife in his hand but returned back to his position of leaning back against the chair with his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes on you.

"You're human," you found yourself uttering as you watched him watch you.

His brows twitched in confusion. "Of course I am.”

But Death couldn’t bleed. . . . Could he?

"You bleed,” you spoke your thoughts, dumbly.

His eyes met yours, but only briefly. "Am I not meant to?" he bit out before his gaze fell back on your hand rubbing your wrist. "Even the dead bleed."

Your confusion only spiraled. This was your end; your purgatory. This was Death, was he not? Your mother had been right. She had to have been right otherwise you were still alive; otherwise, you had managed to escape death once again without so much as a punishment. That wouldn’t be fair. That wouldn’t be right. That wouldn’t be just.

This had to be Death. You had to be dead or somewhere in between. It didn’t matter, this just had to be your end.

So, why hadn’t he condemned you yet?

Why—

"Why—” Death interrupted your thoughts, once you finally dropped your hand from your wrist— “did you think I couldn’t bleed?"

You glanced his way, finding his eyes already on you.

His stare only unnerved you more.

Why couldn’t he just kill you? You deserved it.

Your brows furrowed. "Hasn't anyone ever told you not to play with your food?" you found yourself spitting out, finally finding your voice despite his devasting beauty capturing your words. "I put your lives in danger. I lead them here like you said. I could be with anyone. Having me here could kill you all, so take your revenge. Kill me."

The crease between his brows deepened further. "I'm not letting you die," he simply said, his anger quiet and calm . . . still. “You put my group in harm's way. I won’t pardon you for that . . . but . . . we don’t kill the living.”

That only unnerved you further.

Was this truly Death?

Surely he had killed before.

Although . . . you supposed perhaps he’d only just ever waited. Was that his fault? Waiting for the dead to find him? Is that how he found you in those woods? Is that how he’d taken your arm and helped you crossover to the other side? But . . . if that were true . . . where was your father now? Surely, he would’ve come to see you. Surely, he would’ve been the first one knocking at your door. Surely, he’d be here.

As you briefly wet your lips, your eyes flicked up to meet his. “Where’s my dad?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

A look of deep confusion twisted onto Death’s face, and then he was leaning forward to feel your forehead with the back of his hand. “Fever,” he mumbled more to himself before he pushed himself to his feet, the chair screeching against the floor. “Get some rest. Someone will be in to bandage you up and . . . I’ll be back in a couple hours with medication.” His gaze dropped to the large gash on your arm from just a few nights ago. “When you’re healed, we’ll give you some supplies and then you’ll be on your way, understood?”

But you just stared at him, silently pleading. Pleading for what? You didn’t know. All you knew was if your father wasn’t here, you couldn’t be dead. And if you weren’t, you wanted to be. You’d be able to find him then, because although you were no longer a girl who could kneel in church, you could still feel the scabs on your knees from years ago; you could still remember what it was to believe so blindly; you could still feel that insistent desire for there to be something beyond this world . . . something after this world.

There just had to be. You had to see him again. You had to find him.

You could die now. You could find him now. You would find him.

“Great,” Death muttered under his breath, breaking you out of your own mind. And with one final glance at your exhausted body, he began to turn and head for the door.

Fear struck you then. You had to find your father. “Wait, please—” you hastily grabbed onto his arm, only being able to reach his hand enough to dig your nails into his skin to halt him— “I beg of you.”

His eyes snapped to yours, wide and cautious as if at any moment, one wrong move and he’d grant your wishes. And all you could do was hope.

“Kill me,” you weakly whispered, hopelessly searching his eyes.

His brows twitched, taken back.

“Death,” you begged in a whisper, your bottom lip trembling, “please.”

But Death only stared back at you with a perplexing look written across his face. It was as if he couldn’t believe your request. Had no one ever begged him to die?

A heavy beat of silence pounded in your ears.

Death only continued to stare, a world raging on behind his eyes as he took you in. His demeanor was still calm, still collected, but he seemed . . . perturbed by your request, by your presence, by you. And you watched as his eyes trickled across your face, searching for something until finally . . . his gaze zeroed in on your cheek, his brows furrowing.

Then . . . you felt it.

A tear had slowly begun to slip down your cheek as if your body knew it was a sin to cry. But you were . . . crying that was.

You nearly gasped.

Another tear trickled down your cheek. Guilt followed.

But just as you were about to angrily wipe it away, there was a sharp knock at the door, breaking both you and Death out of your spell. The door opened a second later, a man peaking his head in with a solemn look on his face.

The man didn’t spare you a glance, he only cleared his throat and said, “Chris?” His brows raised, a silent message passing between the two. “A minute.”

Death only nodded, and then the man was gone, the door shutting behind him. Silence followed, but Death stayed unmoving, his arm still in your tight grasp.

“You won’t run,” he slowly spoke, his words a statement, not an order, but he didn’t turn to look at you. He kept his eyes on the door. “I don’t kill the living. I won’t kill you.” He paused, audibly swallowing, and then his eyes were on you. “And I know you won’t kill us.”

And then he was gone before you could blink, quickly tearing his arm out of your grasp before he reached the door and closed it behind him. You were alone with yourself once again, your thoughts running wild as your hand remained outstretched, almost frozen in place.

I know you won’t kill us, he’d told you.

But how could you kill Death? How did he know you wouldn’t if he didn’t give you what you wanted? How could he be so sure that you weren’t a killer, when you so clearly were?

You had killed before, and if he didn’t take you to the other side, you’d surely kill again. That was who you had become. That was who you were. He should’ve known that.

And then as you slowly laid your head back onto the pillow and allowed the minutes to tick by, the throbbing in your head began to subside, and the world became a little clearer. You were no longer a girl who could kneel in church. You did not believe anymore. The world had gone to shit, and it wasn’t because of God’s plan. There were no Horsemen. Your family was gone. And that . . . that man had not been Death.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you swallowed thickly. What was happening to you?

It all hit you then.

These were a group of survivors. That man surely was their leader, and you had just led hundreds of the dead to their doorstep. They should’ve killed you for that alone. You would’ve. You wouldn’t even hesitate if this had been your family. You would’ve done everything to keep them safe, even if it meant killing others, and yet . . .

I won’t kill you.

But why? You deserved it. You could see it in his eyes that he knew.

These were good people. And you were their bad omen.

It wouldn’t be long before your presence brought misery upon them, too, just as it had to your family. And it’d be all your fault.

You’d live, only to see many die. You’d make it out unscathed just as you always had, while they’d suffer, just as he had said.

It was then you realized this was not your purgatory, it was your Hell.

taglist:

@amaranth-writing @binchanluvrr @dreamingsmile @eternalrajin

(i did post the teaser like a year ago, so if you want to be taken off, send me a lil message <3)

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catiuskaa · 1 month ago

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𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙿𝙴𝚁𝙵𝚄𝙼𝙴 𝚂𝙰𝙶𝙰.

the art that makes memory speak.

about: non-connected one-shots inspired by some of the frangances/colognes of the brands the kids have collaborated (or just been related) with.

specific warnings will be given on each oneshot as i’ll write ‘em, but as you could’ve guessed: suggestive/smut content ahead!

a/n: i’ll try to keep being active… sorry for the sudden weird hiatus and inconsistence in posting, uni keeps kicking my ass…! (help)

scent. (♡) full masterlist.

⦅☆⦆ ʙᴀɴɢᴄʜᴀɴ. —𝕘𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕙𝕪

╚» L'INTERDIT

⦅★⦆ ᴍɪɴʜᴏ. —𝕘𝕦𝕔𝕔𝕚

╚» ENVY

⦅☆⦆ ᴄʜᴀɴɢʙɪɴ. —𝕥𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕪 𝕙𝕚𝕝𝕗𝕚𝕘𝕖𝕣

╚» TOMMY GIRL

⦅★⦆ ʜʏᴜɴᴊɪɴ. —𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕒𝕔𝕖

╚» EROS

⦅☆⦆ ᴊɪꜱᴜɴɢ. —𝕕𝕚𝕠𝕣

╚» SAUVAGE

jupiter may not smell like woody ambery trails or smoky accents, and he may seem like just a really big planet who’s really far away, but juno will always find him.

⦅★⦆ ꜰᴇʟɪx. —𝕝𝕠𝕦𝕚𝕤 𝕧𝕦𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕠𝕟

╚» HEURES D'ABSENCE

⦅☆⦆ ꜱᴇᴜɴɢᴍɪɴ. —𝕝𝕠𝕖𝕨𝕖

╚» UN PASEO POR MADRID

⦅★⦆ ᴊᴇᴏɴɢɪɴ. —𝕒𝕝𝕖𝕩𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕞𝕔𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕖𝕟

╚» MCQUEEN

LIKING THIS MASTERLIST POST WILL GET YOU ADDED TO THE SERIES' TAGLIST!

catiuskaa, october 2024 ©

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ybklix · 8 months ago

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Masterlist

⋆ Stray Kids ⋆ - updated: september 30th 2024th

﹙☆﹚all stories are +18 rated. MDNI.

🍒 smut / ❣️ fluff / 🩸 angst ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ( ★ ) >1k notes

⋆˚࿔ 𝐛𝐚𝐡𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

fics 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒

⤷Favorite Crime ───𝙫𝙚𝙧. 𝙚𝙨𝙥───

⤷Favorite Crime ───𝙚𝙣𝙜 𝙫𝙚𝙧.─── (part one,….) 🍒

⤷Cry Baby » FIC MASTERLIST 🍒

⤷Primadonna » FIC MASTERLIST 🍒🩸

one shoots | short series ☾⋆｡° ✮

⇢ stressed out (one shoot) 🍒★

⇢ daddy issues (one shoot) 🍒★

⇢ you can be the boss (short series) (part one, part two, part three,....) 🍒★

your requests ⁺ ꔫ ׅ

☆ soft ice cream 🍒❣️★

☆ the project (short series) (part one, part two, .....) 🍒★

⋆˚࿔ 𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐡𝐨 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

fics 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒

⤷Lost in Translation ───𝙫𝙚𝙧. 𝙚𝙨𝙥───

⤷Lost in Translation ───𝙚𝙣𝙜 𝙫𝙚𝙧.─── 🍒

one shoots | short series ☾⋆｡° ✮

⇢ million dollar man (short series) (part one, part two, part three, part four......) 🍒★

⇢ homewrecker! [with hyunjin] (short series) (part one, part two) 🍒★

your requests ⁺ ꔫ ׅ

☆ take it off 🍒★

☆ eternal sunshine 🩸🍒

☆ hidden lovers 🍒★

⋆˚࿔ 𝐬𝐞𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

fics 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒

⤷Serial Killer ───𝙫𝙚𝙧. 𝙚𝙨𝙥───

⤷Serial Killer ───𝙚𝙣𝙜 𝙫𝙚𝙧.─── (synopsis) 🍒

one shoots | short series ☾⋆｡° ✮

⇢ the boy is mine (one shoot) 🍒

⇢ 35+34 (one shoot) 🍒

⋆˚࿔ 𝐡𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐧 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

fics 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒

⤷Salvatore ───𝙫𝙚𝙧. 𝙚𝙨𝙥───

⤷Salvatore ───𝙚𝙣𝙜 𝙫𝙚𝙧.─── (part one, ......) 🩸🍒

one shoots | short series ☾⋆｡° ✮

⇢ brooklyn baby (short series) (part one, part two) 🍒

⇢ homewrecker! [with minho] (short series) (part one, part two) 🍒★

⋆˚࿔ 𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐣𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

fics 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒

⤷Winter (synopsis) 🍒

one shoots | short series ☾⋆｡° ✮

⇢ backseat (one shoot) 🍒★

your requests ⁺ ꔫ ׅ

☆ ever since new york 🩸

☆ late night confessions 🍒★

⋆˚࿔ 𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐱 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

fics 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒

⤷Let The Light In (synopsis) 🍒❣️🩸

one shoots | short series ☾⋆｡° ✮

⇢ stargirl (one shoot) 🍒

⇢ sex and the city (short series) (part one, part two) 🍒★

⇢ sinful angel 🍒

⇢ playing with his hair (one shoot) 🍒★

your requests ⁺ ꔫ ׅ

☆ love me harder 🍒★

⋆˚࿔ 𝐤𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐦𝐢𝐧 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

fics 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒

⤷Maroon (synopsis) 🍒❣️🩸

one shoots | short series ☾⋆｡° ✮ ➜ soon

⋆˚࿔ 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐣𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

fics 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒

⤷Black Swan (synopsis) 🩸🍒

one shoots | short series ☾⋆｡° ✮ ➜ soon

your requests ⁺ ꔫ ׅ

☆ without you 🍒🩸

⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍒ɞ˚‧｡⋆

𐙚𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑺

📌𝟏𝒌 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ༉‧₊˚. 📌𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒕𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒓 ༉‧₊˚.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍒ɞ˚‧｡⋆

𐙚𝑾𝑰𝑷’𝒔

soon!

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skzhocomments · 9 days ago

Text

Interview with my Ex - Bang Chan Oneshot Fanfic

General Masterlist

Request me a story

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Pairing: Bang Chan (Stray Kids) x OC/Reader (Story is written in 2nd person, OC is called Eun-ji)

Genre: light angst, strangers to lovers to exes (to lovers?)

Word Count: 8.8k

Warnings: swearing, non-explicit mentions of mature themes

Summary:

You have been invited to participate in a show titled ‘Interview with my Ex’ together with Bang Chan. Will you go and confront him for breaking up with you one year ago, or will you miss out on this opportunity?

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

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

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

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Interview with my Ex

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What the heck is this?

Your eyes are stuck on the screen, unable to believe the E-mail you’ve just received.

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“PROPOSAL to Mrs. Eun-ji Park

You have been invited to participate in our show titled ‘Interview with my Ex’ together with Bang Christopher Chan.

The show is scheduled to be filmed on XX.XX.XXXX. You will be able to talk openly to your ex about your relationship and your break-up through a series of questions we’ve prepared.

Please let us know if you are interested in this proposal and if you are available.

Thank you,

The ‘Truth Behind The Scenes’ Team”

---

Reading through the lines, your eyes widen in shock.

You look up the E-mail address the message came from and find that not only is it legit, but they have a YouTube channel with millions of subscribers, which would explain why your ex – Chan – would be invited to it and would want to participate.

Although you haven’t kept up with what he’s been doing, you know that he is preparing to release an album to launch his solo career, and he’d probably want to promote it as much as possible.

But still, isn’t it a bit cruel to invite you to something like this? Would he really promote this album at your expense, after knowing how much he’s hurt you?

It’s been more than a year since you’ve broken up, but still, your heart still hurts whenever you read his name. You don’t think you’d be able to face him without feeling pain creeping in from every crevice of your body.

You miss him terribly, and ever since he left, you weren’t able to fill the hole he left behind. Once in a while, you wonder if he’s ever tried reaching out and you almost unblock his number, but quickly change your mind because the possibility of talking to him again scares you.

You are scared of your heart swelling up with hope in your chest again, you are scared of confessing that he was the best thing that’s ever happened to you, and you are scared he most likely doesn’t feel the same.

Still, you are curious. Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to participate in this show – to talk to him more or less openly about the whys and the hows, so you eventually decide to reply to the message, and you clear up your work schedule for that day.

As the day approaches, you get more and more anxious about having to see him. Initially, you decide to dress to the nines, to show him what he’s been missing out on, but the more dresses you try on, the more uncomfortable you feel.

Why should you try to be someone you’re not just to try and impress a man who’s left you?

You shouldn’t.

You don’t care to impress him anymore. You should just be you, and you should wear something you’re feeling good in, even if that’s just a plain black shirt and some matching black jeans and shoes.

You decide to do your make-up as you’d usually do for work – a soft glam paired with a glossy lip balm, and glancing once more in the mirror, you sigh to yourself and get out of your apartment, taking the bus until you reach the address you’ve received in the last message the Truth Behind the Scenes team sent you.

As you reach the filming studio, someone takes you inside a room with a table and two chairs, and Chan is already there with his back turned to you, speaking with someone you don’t recognise.

Your heart skips a beat at the sight of him, and you hesitate for a little while, but eventually decide to approach the table with a soft smile.

“Hey.” You say, and seeing you, Chan immediately stands up and smiles brightly.

“Hey! I wasn’t sure you’d show up.” He chuckles, taking you into a hug, and oh, how much you missed his embrace, even if it’s short.

“Yeah, I wasn’t sure either.” You reply honestly. “But here I am. So, how does this work?”

“Well, I thought we would have a conversation of some sort, but apparently there’s some questions on those cards each of us has to draw from those two boxes-” he points towards the table, “and the other has to reply.”

“I see.” You nod and sit down, and he follows soon after.

The team instructs you to draw the first card, and as you do, you begin reading:

“How did we meet?”

“Oh, alright. Well…”

---

Rubbing his tired eyes, Chan looked in the corner of his computer screen and cursed out loud when he noticed how late it already was.

3:52 AM.

“Shit.” He leaned back and closed his eyes tightly, and when he opened them again, they started stinging.

He rubbed them again while contemplating if he should go back to the dorms or just sleep on the sofa in the studio. Although uncomfortable, it would do until tomorrow at 10 when he’d have to be back to the building.

After some more minutes and deep breaths used to try and calm him down, he eventually decided against sleeping on the sofa and getting God knows how many neck cramps in the morning when he’d wake up.

He got up and shut down his computer and his laptop, of course after making sure a million times that he’s saved the progress made on the track in the past few hours of the night. He had a good feeling about this new song, even though it would probably not see the light of day in a few years.

Still, it’s better to work in advance and be prepared, especially in an industry as competitive as the one he works in.

Walking into the hallway, he eventually reached the elevators and called one of them. He glanced one more time left and right, and made his way inside, thinking of how peaceful the company is so late into the night. This was probably the only thing he enjoyed about staying up late cramped in his studio: the quietness, the emptiness, the fact that he can take the elevator all the way down uninterrupted-

“Oh.” A woman’s voice pulled him out of his trance, as he stood bewildered looking at the elevator’s doors that opened on the 6th floor. “Wasn’t expecting someone else to be up and about at this time.” The woman continued, and Chan smiled out of courtesy.

You got in and pressed the button to close the doors, and the elevator started moving again, until it suddenly came to a halt.

The lights followed, leaving you in complete darkness.

“What the fuck…” Chan mumbled, taking his phone out of his pocket.

What a great day to have 2%.

He turned the flashlight on, nonetheless.

“Is this a blackout?” You contemplated out loud. “Ouch.”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Chan apologised, putting the flashlight down. He unintentionally blinded the poor woman. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Great.”

“Tell me about it… What do we do?”

“Is there anyone you could call to tell them we’re here? I forgot my phone on my desk. Shit.”

“Yeah, let me try and call my manager. He’ll probably kill me tomorrow morning for interrupting his precious sleep, but he’s our only hope.”

“Okay.”

Chan searched up his manager’s name and dialled his number, but before the call could connect, the phone shut down.

“No more battery.”

“No way. Are you fucking kidding me?” You asked, but despite the harsh words, there was no annoyance in your tone. Instead, Chan was able to hear slight amusement.

“I always charge it.” He mumbled once more under his breath.

“Do you think the power went out in the whole building, or is it just the elevator?”

“Hmm. Not sure. Probably the whole building.”

“So, we’re stuck.” You concluded, and Chris started hearing a slight shuffle. “Might as well be comfortable. I’m down here.”

“On the floor?”

“No, dummy. On the ceiling.” You laughed.

“Okay, okay. It’s 4 AM, be a bit more lenient on me for the stupid questions.” Chan laughed as well and sat down, hoping he wouldn’t accidentally sit on you.

“I’m Eun-ji, by the way.”

“Chris.”

“Nice to meet you, Chris.”

“What are you doing here so late?”

“Same as you, probably. Working.”

“Damn, what department are you in?” He asked, trying to keep the conversation going.

“Financing.” You shrugged, although you knew he wasn’t able to see you.

“I see. I’m from Stray Kids.”

“Yeah, I know.” You chuckled at the absurdity of the situation. Of course you knew, since you were up so late because of this guy and his team’s never-ending resources for their million albums, merch and tours.

“Really? How so?” He asked, as if taken aback.

“Uhm, I mean… you’re one of the stars of the company I work for. It would be kind of weird to not know, don’t you think?” You asked plainly.

“I guess so, yeah…”

“So, do you think we’d be here for long?”

“God, I hope not. I’m so tired I could sleep right here.”

“Do it, then.” You shrugged again. “Do you want to put your head in my lap to be more comfortable?”

“What?”

“I asked, do you want to put your head-”

“No, I heard what you asked.” Chris chuckled. “I was just taken aback.”

“Well, you don’t have to. It was just a solution to the problem.”

“Then, you should be the one to do it and get some sleep, I bet you’re as tired as me.” He countered.

“No, I’m fine. Sure, I’m tired, but I have a day off tomorrow, so I can sleep in once I get home.”

“Oh… do you live far away?”

“Just a couple blocks over.”

“I see.”

“You?”

“Same…”

You hummed and nodded, and the two of you stayed silent for a few moments, until Chris started speaking again.

“So… do you like your job?”

“What?” You chuckled. “That was so random.”

“I’m trying to make conversation!” He retorted.

“I can’t say I dislike it, but I also can’t say I like it. It’s just a means to a way, I guess.”

“Mhm.”

“What about you, Chris? Do you like your job?”

“Yeah, a whole lot.” He smiled, and although you couldn’t see it, you heard it from the tone of his voice.

“Isn’t it stressful, though?”

“It is, but it’s also very rewarding. I wouldn’t pick anything else for the world.” He continued with the same excitement.

“That’s incredible. I wish my job and I had the same relationship honestly.”

“Hey, does your offer still stand?”

“Sorry?” You asked confused, and then realised what he was referring to. “Oh, yeah, of course. Come here.”

You found his shoulder in the dark and raised your hand until you found his nape, guiding his head towards your lap.

“There you go, are you comfortable?”

“Yeah, I am. Sorry about this, I’m just very tired and feel like I might pass out.”

“Don’t worry.”

You placed your other hand on his head and figured out he had a cap on, which you haven’t noticed earlier when you could see him.

“Mind if I take this off?”

“Why?” He asked immediately.

“Just figured I’d massage your scalp to help you sleep better?”

“Oh, no. I haven’t washed my hair.”

“So what?” You chuckled. “You’re such a kid.”

“I’m not a kid! Okay, fine, whatever. Take it off.”

“Good. Now, don’t get worked up and focus on sleeping.” You chuckled again and took off his cap, starting to scratch his head softly, and not even a few minutes later, you heard his steady breathing, signalling that he must’ve fallen asleep.

You wondered how long this power outage was going to last, and time seemed to pass by extremely slowly, and you eventually ended up dozing off as well. The next thing you remember is waking up blinded by the strong white lights inside the elevator, with Chris still sleeping peacefully in your lap.

“Hey.” You nudged him awake, and as he sat up, he looked more confused than ever.

“What’s up? Is the power back on?”

“Apparently.” You smiled softly, yawning.

“Thank you for being my pillow.” He said and stood up, putting his cap back on, then gave you a hand to help you up as well.

“No issues.” You chuckled and accepted his help.

“Need me to drop you off?”

“No, don’t worry about me. I live really close by. Besides, I still need to go back upstairs and grab my phone, so you get going and get some more rest.”

“Alright. Good night, Eun-ji.”

“Night!” You waved as he exited the elevator, unable to believe the interaction you just had, but still way too tired to think too much about it.

---

“That was one of the best sleeps I’ve ever had, believe it or not.”Chris says with a laugh as he recalls the memory.

“Yeah, you mentioned about it a whole lot and always made me scratch your head before sleep whenever you’d come over.” You laughed as well with a shake of your head and watched as he grabbed another card from the deck.

“When was our first kiss?” He asks, and you tilt your head to the side.

“You mean, the date and time?”

“I think it’s more like… if you remember how it happened?” He replies, quite confused as well.

“Ah, I see. Of course I remember.”

“During our first date?”

“No.” You chuckled again. “I told you before that you don’t remember that one time!”

“Ohhhh!” He exclaims. “Yeah, sorry, I think I was drunk out of my mind when that kiss happened.”

“You make it sound like I took advantage of a poor drunk man.” You joke, and Chris laughs as well.

“No, no, nothing like that. But come on, tell the story.”

“Fine.” You playfully roll your eyes.

---

“I can’t believe we’ve been invited to this party!” Your co-worker exclaimed happily as she applied and reapplied her lipstick, making you laugh at her antics.

“Why? It’s literally just a Christmas dinner, babe.”

“No, Eun-ji. It’s not just a dinner, everyone will be there. Everyone.”

“No clue what this means, but whatever.” You chuckled again.

“It means, even the idols! I told you I met Yeji last week and she was such a sweetheart! I wonder if she remembers me!”

“I doubt it, with how much foundation you’ve put on, babe.”

“What, am I not beautiful?” She pouted.

“You are extremely beautiful, but you look very different compared to your day-to-day look. Wait, your lipstick smudged a bit. Here, let me wipe it off.” You grabbed a napkin and carefully worked around your coworker’s lips, making sure the lipstick looked cleanly applied.

“Thank you so much! You’re dressed so plainly, though. You should always dress to impress, Eun-ji! Let’s get you in a dress!” She exclaimed, but you were quick to shake your head.

“No, thank you. I’d much rather feel comfortable. Besides, it’s just a dumb dinner. It’s not like I’ll meet the love of my life or anything like that. I don’t care to impress anyone either.”

“You’re literally impossible. Fine, wear your lame-ass black shirt and jeans, then!” She stuck her tongue out, and you replied in the same manner, before you two ended up making your way towards the elevators.

A few floors up, the elevator stopped, and the doors opened, revealing two men.

One of them, you knew.

“Oh, hello! Eun-ji, right?” Chris spoke, and you smiled slightly.

“Hi.”

“Are you girls going to the last floor too?” He asked, noticing the striking discrepancy between how you and your co-worker were dressed.

“Yeah, we are.” You replied, trying to ignore how hard your co-worker was gripping your arm. You were sure she was freaking out and in dire need of help, since she couldn’t seem to keep her cool in front of these two.

“This is Felix, by the way.” Chris introduced him.

“Hello!” The other man replied in a low tone with a nod and a sweet smile, and you acknowledged him with a short nod.

Of course, you also knew who Felix was, but it was never a big deal to you that they were famous or whatever. They were still people, just like you and your co-worker, who didn’t seem to think the same way, however.

The elevator ride was short, and you got to the last floor in no time, waving goodbye to Felix and Chris and heading towards your assigned table.

“You didn’t tell me you knew freaking Bang Chan!” Your co-worker scream-whispered in your ear, still gripping your arm.

“Because I don’t.” You retorted with a shrug.

“Yeah, you do! He even knew your name! How did that happen?”

“We just happened to meet in an elevator and got stuck for about two hours or so.” You shrugged again.

“What? When?”

“A few months ago, maybe?”

“How could you not tell me? I thought we were friends!”

“Because there was nothing to say!” You replied slightly annoyed, and she rolled her eyes, just as you reached the table.

The air was so stuffy in the large room, you could barely breathe. There were too many people – most likely almost everyone in the company, be it idols or mere workers.

It was so hard to hear your thoughts over the loud music, that you decided to simply make a run for it and disappear. It was getting late anyway, and you were tired, and quite honestly sick of the noise.

As you got back to the elevator and reached over to press the button and call it to your floor, your hand collided with someone else’s.

“It appears we meet again.” Chris chuckled.

“Yeah, what’s with us and this damn elevator? I don’t get it.” You laughed as well as you both stepped inside, and you pressed on the ground floor.

Chris also reached out to the buttons and pressed on another floor, but you didn’t pay it any mind.

The doors opened and he got out with a little smile and a “Goodbye!”, but then, just before the doors closed again, he placed his hand in-between them, making them reopen.

“Yes?” You asked in surprise.

“Do you, uhm… do you wanna come see my studio?”

“Why?”

“Might be cool to see.” He shrugged. “I have a bomb song idea and, you know, the creative process and all is quite interesting.”

“The creative process.” You chuckled. “Alright. Why not? As long as it’s quiet.”

“It is, it’s the best room in the building, trust me.” He smiled excitedly and turned around, so you followed him out of the elevator and into the studio.

“It’s so cramped!” You exclaimed the moment you saw it.

“Yeah, but it’s cosy, and it’s mine.” He smiled and offered you a seat on his sofa, which you were quick to accept.

Chris initially sat down at the desk, but after a little while of him pressing buttons and you admiring every corner of the room in silence, he decided to stand back up and come sit on the sofa next to you.

“No more working?”

“No more working.” He shook his head. “I can’t focus.”

“Oh, is it because I’m here?” You replied, slightly embarrassed. Maybe you shouldn’t have come.

“No, of course not! It’s because I’m drunk as fuck and nothing on my screen makes any sense.” He replied quickly with a warm laugh.

“Oh. It’d be best to head home and sleep, then.”

“Eun-ji, I’ll be blunt. Your lips look so incredible right now…”

“Wh- what? My lips?” You immediately put your fingers on top of them. “Must be this new lipbalm I’m using. It’s called-”

“No, it’s not that.” Chris chuckled. “I just wanna…” He grabbed your hand softly and dragged it away, his body coming closer to you, until your lips collided.

For a few seconds, you were taken aback by what was happening, but as the kiss deepened, your hands found the back of his head and you brought him closer.

His tongue was hot on yours, and in no time, you found yourself sitting in his lap, still making out like you were thirsty and his mouth had the only water left on Earth.

One of his hands travelled under your shirt on your naked back, and the other went down to your bum, squeezing it softly, and you let out a moan muffled by his mouth on yours.

---

“Yeah, thinking about it, it was you who initiated that kiss, so you can’t blame me for your drunken mistakes.” You chuckle.

“That was anything but a mistake, Eun-ji.” He replies with a smile that you couldn’t quite read, however, there is a slight longing in his eyes, which makes your heart skip a beat. “And it was quite funny, really. I literally couldn’t remember that we made out, but the next thing I know, I’m looking at my phone and see that we have a date planned in the next few days.”

You chuckle again at the memory, remembering how confused he was when you messaged him to confirm the details about the date.

“Alright, it’s my turn.” You say, deciding to stop pondering on your first moments as a couple and ignore his expression, as you aren’t sure you’d be able to keep a straight face for much longer if he keeps looking at you that way.

He looks at you as if he’s still in love, which makes no sense to you whatsoever. It’s been a year, and even though you are probably still very much in love with him, he is, after all, the one that got away.

You draw a card and read out loud.

“What’s your most treasured memory with us?”

“Oh, tough one.” He replies quickly, his brows furrowing.

“Why? You can’t think of any of them?” You ask, slightly dejected.

“No, it’s not that, Eun-ji. It’s just that… I treasure all of our memories.”

“All of them?” You counter back.

“Yes.”

“Even the fights?”

“Even those.”

As he replies, you don’t know what to say any further. You want to ask some more about it, but before you get the chance to formulate a proper question in your head, he begins talking again.

“If I were to pick only one, however… I think I’d go with that one time you surprised me by coming to our concert in Europe.”

---

“Thank you! You were great tonight, and we can’t wait to come again!” Chris shouted in his microphone before heading off-stage, completely sweaty but still high on the adrenaline from being on stage in front of such a large crowd.

No matter how many times he’s done it, he could never get used to it.

“Good job, boys.” He complimented his team members with a large smile plastered on his face. “Are you ready to party for the rest of the night?”

“Oh, Chris. The manager just informed me that you have to go back to the hotel. There’s apparently something wrong with your room.” Felix frowned slightly as he approached Chris, but was unable to contain his excitement for long, so he made sure to turn around just in time for him not to notice the large smile on his face.

“An issue with my room…?” Chris contemplated with a shake of his head but decided to take the driver anyway and go back to the hotel.

After all, he could always meet up with the boys and the staff later and party, after he fixed whatever was wrong with the room and saw what the emergency was about.

He inquired about the issue at the reception, but they only informed him to head upstairs, and so, he followed suit and went to his room.

As he opened it, however, he noticed that there wasn’t anything wrong. In fact, it was the exact opposite.

There you were, in his room, sitting leisurely on the bed and smiling gleefully at him.

“You’re finally back!” You exclaimed getting off the bed, and Chris just stood silent in the doorway, as if unable to believe his eyes.

“Eun-ji?!” He asked, confusion plastered across his face. “But… how? You told me you couldn’t get off work!”

“Yeah, well, surprise! My co-worker finally agreed to switch shifts with me, so I’ll be here until you leave to the next city!”

“That’s, oh my God, I’m freaking out!” He exclaimed, immediately running towards you and hugging you tightly against his chest, peppering your face with kisses.

“Eww, you’re so sweaty!” You joked and pushed him away.

“Let’s take a shower together! How does that sound?”

“Don’t be lame, Chris. I already filled the tub, let’s have a bubble bath instead!”

“Damn, you’re the freaking best.”

“Damn right.”

You two made your way towards the bathroom, slowly undressing each other in-between kisses, and when you were completely naked, you went into the tub and washed Chan’s back, kissing his neck slowly and hugging him from behind.

“By the way, Chris, you were amazing on stage.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve also seen the concert!” He exclaimed surprised.

“Of course I did! Well, some of it, anyway. But you know what? I’m quite pissed at you. I should be the only one who gets to see these.” As you replied, you moved your hand lower until it reached his abs.

“You’re the only one who gets to touch them, baby.”

“That’s not even true. Your make-up staff touches them all the time.” You pouted, and Chris started laughing at your antics.

Although he couldn’t see you, as you were still hugging him from behind, he knew you well enough to know the face you were making.

“I missed you.” You whispered.

“Me too, baby.” He replied and turned around, making sure to splash a ton of water on the floor in the process, and kissed you again. “Wanna get out so I can show you how much I’ve missed you?”

“Hell yeah.”

---

“That’s a good memory, yeah.” You chuckle, your cheeks growing slightly red remembering the steaming night you two shared, and the morning sex afterwards.

You couldn’t deny that Chris was the best you’ve ever had in every way, and your body already got hot at the thought of him touching you like that.

“So, I guess that makes it my turn.” Chris says with a clear of his throat, and you wonder if he is thinking about the same things as you.

“Go ahead.” You smile and point him towards the cards on his deck.

“Have you slept with anyone else since we’ve broken up?” Chris reads out loud, but before taking his eyes away from the card, he continues by saying: “Wait, you don’t have to respond to this. Can we skip this question?”

He looks at the staff members and places the card down, but you don’t have anything to hide. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway if you slept or didn’t sleep with anyone else. It’s not like it’s any of his business to care and get affected by your reply.

“I didn’t.” You say quietly and reach towards a new card but decide to ask as well. “Have you?”

“Eun-ji…” He frowns.

“Sorry for asking.” You shrug and then turn your card up. “The next questions reads-”

“I haven’t.” He cuts you off and averts his gaze, moment when you look at him confused.

“What?”

“I haven’t… slept with anyone else.” Chris confesses, leaving you utterly speechless.

“Oh. Alright… uhm… the next question says… what was the worst part about our relationship?” You tuck your hair behind your ear, a habit you have whenever you get nervous.

“Oh, that’s an easy one.” He chuckles. “It was definitely me.”

“What?” You frown. “Chris, you know that’s not true.”

“But it is… the fact that I was never there when you needed me…”

---

“So, I went shopping today. What are you wearing on Saturday? If you wear a tie, we need to get one in the same colour as my dress.” You spoke in a breath, kissing Chan's cheek.

“Saturday? What’s on Saturday?” He asked, genuinely confused.

“What?” You chuckled in disbelief. “My childhood friend invited us to her wedding, remember?”

“Oh, right!” He exclaimed. “Wait, let me check the date real quick.”

He stood up from the bed and ran to the living room, picking up his phone and opening his calendar.

“Shit. Babe…?” He smiled sheepishly.

“Don’t tell me you have other plans.” You frowned.

“I talked to our producer, and we are supposed to record some parts from that new song I told you about on Saturday… but it’s okay! I’ll make sure to finish in time so we can still go to the wedding! Don’t worry!” He immediately responded and apologised.

“Chris, the wedding is 3 hours away by car. I promised her we’d be there at 2 for the ceremony as well, not just for the party afterwards.” Your frown only deepened.

“Do we really need to go to the ceremony, though? Aren’t they… I don’t know… boring?”

“Are you being serious right now?” You sat up, annoyance plastered in your tone. “Chris, she’s my best friend. Of course we have to go to the ceremony too!”

“Eun-ji…” He started, and you got even more annoyed. It was like he wouldn’t take accountability for anything.

“I told you six months ago, Chris. How much time ahead do I have to tell you to make sure you’d clear up your schedule?”

“I’m so sorry, baby, but you know that our release schedule is really tight…”

“Why can’t I be a priority at least once, hm?! At least for a weekend!” You felt your eyes watering up. You knew his job was the most important, however, you were getting tired of always being put in second place by your boyfriend.

Hell, you were so disappointed right now. You asked him to clear up one single weekend, and he couldn’t even remember to do that.

“You know what? You’re right. I’m going to call up the producer right now and reschedule for next week, okay?” He pleaded with you, but you were already beyond disappointed with this situation.

He’s already made sure not to prioritize you, so you decided to just stop bothering him about it altogether.

“You know what? Don’t worry about it. I’ll just go on my own.”

“Eun-ji-”

“Besides, you don’t know anyone there, anyway, whereas I’ll just catch up with all my friends from school, so don’t worry. Go record your song.”

You got out of bed and made your way to the bathroom, turning on the water and hopping into the shower, trying to wash all the tears away.

---

“That was certainly… one of the lowest points in our relationship.” You reply, remembering the event with bitterness.

You ended up going alone to the wedding, and despite having fun and catching up with your old friends, having to go there on your own and having people ask you about where your boyfriend was truly hurt you.

“Mhm… I agree. I was such a dick. I’m so sorry, Eun-ji. If I were to turn back time, I would’ve never done those stupid mistakes.” He smiles apologetically.

“It’s fine… it’s all in the past anyway.” You return the same pained expression as he draws another card from the pile.

“Why did you accept to come here today?”

“Is that the question?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmm, I guess I was just… I don’t know, even though we’ve broken up on relatively good terms, if you could say that... I guess I just wanted to talk to you again?” You smile briefly and draw another card. “Do you think I was a jealous partner?”

“You?” Chris chuckles. “God, no. If anything, I was the jealous one.”

“You were?” You laugh as well.

“Yeah… You, however, were never jealous, no matter how many people I’d interact with. Even though it was never inappropriate, I really appreciated that you trusted me, no matter what.”

“Of course I trusted you.” You smile. “You never made me doubt you, not even once.”

Which was true. You knew that he truly loved you during the brief two years of your relationship, and he’s never put himself in any compromising position with anyone else to make you jealous.

“Anyway… the next card reads: Why didn’t we work out?” You read out loud and wait a few seconds for Chris’ reply.

“I think the first time I started to doubt if our relationship was fair to you was when you got fired from the company because… because you were dating me. That’s when I knew that something was fundamentally wrong with us being together, because instead of me giving you anything positive, I just ended up causing you pain.” Chris speaks slowly, letting out a long exhale at the end.

“It was… a really tough time for me. Although my job was not ideal, it was something I worked very hard for, and once our relationship became public and suddenly everyone knew about us…” You shake your head.

It was a very difficult time for you to put yourself out there and find another job when the whole country was aware of your relationship with Chris.

“However… no matter how hard it was, I could get through it only because you were there with me.” You frowned. “I never blamed you for my job, or anything like that… ever.”

“I know… But still, how could I not blame myself? I felt so guilty… Heck, even now, a year after we broke up, I’m still sending you money to help you out with rent, even though I know you have a new job and all.” He chuckles.

“And I always send it back.” You smile.

“Wait, you do?” He frowns. “Really?”

“Mhm.” You nod, and he pulls out his phone and opens his bank app, and his expression only becomes more downcast.

“Eun-ji, why?”

“It’s alright, Chris. I really don’t need it. You’d better spend it for something else.”

“But I-”

“Really, stop it. Read the next card.” You blow him off, dismissing his words, and he lets out a sigh.

“What was our worst fight?”

“Hmm… I think the most soul crushing one was when I got that new job…”

“Right, I was also thinking of that one. See? I told you I was the more jealous one in our relationship.” Chris chuckles with a shake of his head.

---

“Thank you for dropping me off.” You smiled sweetly at one of your new co-workers, who offered you a ride home in his car since you were on his way.

Ever since you got fired from JYPE, you were struggling to find a new job, but thankfully, an opportunity came your way, and you didn’t think twice to accept it.

However, the new job was quite far away, and the hours were longer. You missed your short commute home, but you were simply unable to find anything else in the area.

You got out of his car and waved him goodbye, and when you turned around, there was Chris, with an angry expression on his face.

“Who was that?” He asked immediately.

“Is this how we say hi to each other now?” You tilted your head, unable to understand why he seemed so pissed at you.

“Eun-ji, answer the question, please. Who the hell was that, and why is he dropping you off so late? Where were you?”

“At work. I started a new job, remember?” You frowned, not understand what he was trying to accuse you of, or why.

“It’s almost 9 PM, and I see a random man dropping you off home. Do you think I’m stupid or something?” He fired back, angrier than before.

“Excuse me? What are you insinuating?” You retorted.

“I’m not insinuating anything. I’m just asking you a damn question, Eun-ji.”

“And I’m answering!” You almost started shouting but decided to take a deep breath in and ask Chris to talk inside.

He followed you upstairs, but his demeanour was cold, which gave away the fact that the fight was far from over.

“Alright, we’re inside. Care to explain now?”

“There’s nothing to explain, Chris. That was just my co-worker.”

“Just your co-worker. Okay, sure. And why the hell was he giving you a ride home?” He continued to ask in an accusatory tone, which pissed you off to no end.

“I don’t know, Chris. Maybe it’s because my boyfriend is way too busy to make the time to come pick me up or at least send me a damn cab!”

You found it hard to keep your composure any longer, so the way you replied came out a bit too loud, and so began a screaming match between you two, and by far the worst fight you’ve ever had, which ended in Chris leaving your apartment and you crying your eyes out until 5AM.

---

“I am not proud at all of how I acted that night…” Chris closes his eyes and breaths in, and you can almost hear the pain in his voice.

“I can’t say I handled it too well either.” You sigh. “I mean, I always gave you my unconditional trust, and there you were, doubting me because I decided to accept a ride from my co-worker. It was really shitty of you to do that…”

“I know… I’m sorry.” He apologises, and you draw a new card.

“Who broke up with who?”

“It was me... I knew how much I was hurting you, and I just… I guess I decided that breaking up would be better for the both of us.”

---

“Are you mad at me again?” You frowned, hearing the 10th sigh getting out of Chan’s lips in the past 5 minutes.

“No, I’m not mad at you.”

“That’s what it looks like.”

“I’m just so incredibly stressed, Eun-ji. Can’t you understand that?”

“No, Chris, I’m just a child, I need you to spell it out for me.”

“Now you’re just mocking me again.”

“What the hell is wrong with you? It’s like the only thing we do lately is fight.”

“You’re right.” He let out another sigh. “I wish we wouldn’t fight anymore.”

He stood up and cupped your cheeks, pressing a firm kiss against your lips.

“Me neither. I love you, Chris. I really do.”

“I love you too, Eun-ji.”

You continued kissing slowly, your hands exploring the other’s body, and your clothes started disappearing one by one, your naked bodies collapsing on the bed on top of one another.

You made love and kissed each other again and again, until there was no space on your bodies that the other’s lips haven’t touched.

Then, you laid your head on Chan’s shoulder and closed your eyes, almost falling asleep before the sounds of a whimper stirred you awake.

“Hey, you okay?” You asked, concern plastered across your face.

“Eun-ji… I’m so sorry baby.”

“What for?” You frowned.

“I think…” Chris started, his voice immediately cut off by a cry as he separated himself from you and sat up on the bed, not even looking at you.

“What’s wrong?” You sat up as well and placed your hand on his naked back, caressing it softly.

“I think we should break up, Eun-ji.”

As he said this, it felt like your whole world collapsed around you. His words took your breath away, and as he stood up and got dressed, you began shaking your head repeatedly and trying to talk some sense into him.

“Chris… no. No, no, we can’t. What do you mean, break up? No…” You stood up and followed him out of the room and into the hallway, watching helplessly as he began putting on his shoes.

“I’m so, so sorry. But it’d be better for us to break up. All we do is fight, and I… I ruined everything…” Chris cried, and so did you, as you hanged onto him for dear life, hugging his back and trying to stop him for going through that door.

“Please, no. Please stay.” You begged. “We don’t have to break up. We can make it work, hm?”

“No… No, we can’t. We’ve been trying for so long, and yet… I put you through so much… you’d definitely be better off without me, Eun-ji.”

“You’re so fucking selfish!” You shouted, crying your heart out. “I love you so much, and yet…”

“I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you, Eun-ji. But…” As he said this, he chocked on a sob, coughing slightly and wiping his tears away rapidly. “I just think it’d be best to stop this before I end up hurting you more, hm?”

"I'm the one who should decide if you're hurting me, Chris, not you!" You countered back, but he wouldn't hear any of it.

He turned around and hugged you tight, and the only thing you could do was beg him not to go.

He didn’t listen to you, and he left, and the house felt unbearably cold, and your bed was so empty, you loathed looking at it, knowing that just hours prior, you’ve made love on top of those sheets, and he loved you, and you loved him.

You tried calling him numerous times for the next week, but his calls would instantly get redirected to voice mail. At first, you left messaged for him, raging from disappointed, to sad, and even angry as the days passed and he wouldn’t return any of your calls, and after two weeks of no news from him, you understood that his decision was final, so you decided to finally block his number, and you haven’t looked back since.

---

“You were so incredibly cruel about that.” You reply, feeling tears well up in your eyes. However, you swallowed back the lump in your throat and didn’t allow yourself to cry in front of him again.

“I don’t know what I was thinking… To be honest, I’ve been considering breaking up for a while, but… the way I did it was indeed way too cruel, and that’s something I still regret. I just ended up hurting both of us in the process…”

You let out a bitter smile at his confession. You wanted to tell him how much it still hurt, how the break-up was still fresh in your mind even a year later, and how much you wish it never happened, but you couldn’t say anything.

You point him towards the cards, and he draws one and reads:

“Who do you think had the harder time after we broke up?”

“Honestly?” You chuckle. “I’ll selfishly say it was me. Did you have a hard time at all?”

“God, you have no idea.” He chuckles as well.

“Really?” Your eyes grow large. “But you didn’t even return my calls.”

“And when I did, I found out you blocked my number, so…” He scratches his nape.

“Oh.”

“Yeah…”

You don’t know how to react to this new information. You’ve been wondering all this time if he’s ever reached out, and now that you found he did, you heart broke.

Maybe coming to this show was really a mistake, because your heart doesn’t seem to heal at all – it’s quite the opposite. It’s weighing heavier in your chest, and it hurts so much, and it doesn't seem like you'll get any closure.

You draw another card, but the question gets cold on your tongue, and you barely find the strength to ask it.

“Did you… uhm… did you ever see yourself marrying me?” You clear your throat and look at Chris, who’s showing you the most compassionate expression, so full of love, like you haven’t broken up a year ago.

“Yes.” He replies plainly, and this finally breaks you.

You avert your gaze as you feel your eyes swelling up with tears.

“I’m sorry, can I please have a moment? I need a break.”

You take in a few deep breaths and refuse to look at Chris anymore, because you can’t help the growing feelings in your chest and the pain ever-present in your heart.

“Alright… when?” You ask after a little while, trying to wipe away any tears that might’ve fallen on your cheeks.

“I fell in love with you quickly, but… I think I knew for sure that I wanted us to… uhm… to be more than just a couple… when you first met my family.”

---

“I’m so anxious! What if they won’t like me? What if they’d think I’m not good enough for you? Oh my God, Chris, where are the presents I bought??? Did you forget to pack them? I explicitly said-”

“God, Eun-ji, calm down.” Chris chuckled. “It’s just my parents. And I put the presents right there in the bag, just as you’ve asked me to.”

“I’m so anxious, I can’t help it!” You pouted. “Where exactly?”

“Here, let me look for them.” He offered, and you plopped on the bed in Chan’s old room, almost on the verge of crying.

You were thankful that his parents were away for a few hours to some sort of event, which gave you a little time to settle in their house and mentally prepare yourself for the impending meeting.

“What?” Chris asked puzzled.

“What?” You immediately sat back up, watching as Chris looked confused.

“I’m sure I packed them. Is this the wrong bag?” He tilted his head to the right, and you just about died.

“This can’t be true!” You exclaimed as Chris closed the bag and examined it.

“Shit, I thought you said I should put them in the blue one.”

“Chris!” You grabbed a pillow and threw it at him, and he started chuckling.

“It’ll be okay, babe, don’t worry.”

“No, it won’t! I came empty handed and they’re going to hate me, and-” You sniffed and buried your face in your palms, but Chris grabbed them gently and pushed them away, grabbing your face with his hands.

“They won’t hate you. They will see how much I love you, and they will love you too.”

“I put so much thought into those presents, though.” You pouted, thinking of the matching jewellery set you got for Chan’s folks that took you ages to decide on.

Before Chris got the chance to say anything else, you heard the front door open, and your heart stood still in your chest.

“Looks like they’re here. Come on, let’s meet them.” He dragged you up from the bed and you reluctantly followed him, and there they were, in the doorway, with large smiles on their faces at the sight of their son.

Chris introduced you and they immediately made you feel welcomed by taking you into a large hug, and then you had lunch together, when you talked and told them lots of funny stories from work and from your childhood.

Chan’s mother was more than happy to hear these stories and shared some of her son’s growing up as well, with a large smile spread across her face, and you had such a pleasant time together, hours ended up passing by, and day turned to night in no time.

By the time you were back in bed next to Chris, you wondered why you worried in the first place. These people were as lovely as him, and they apparently adored you too.

---

“My mom still asks me about you.” Chris chuckles.

“I also think about them often. How are they doing?” You ask with a soft smile, remembering the good times.

There were a lot of downs in your relationship, but more than anything – bigger than the pointless fights and sleepless nights –, you had some amazing moments together that you’d do anything to relive.

It truly doesn’t feel like a whole year went by with Chris not being in your life.

“They are doing well. Like usual.” He smiles back. “I believe we have two more questions to ask.”

“Yeah, it appears so.” You reply, unable to believe that a whole hour has passed already.

“My question reads: what have you been up to ever since we’ve broken up?”

“Hmm… you know me, just hustling here and there. I’ve found a new job that’s closer to home, I started going to the gym more or less regularly, I made some new friends and tried out some hobbies – which I ended up being too bad at to pursue.” You chuckle.

“Really? Like what?” Chan’s eyes sparkle with excitement as he’s placing his elbows on the table and his head steadily on his palms, showing you that you have his undivided attention, and it feels like no time has passed at all.

If you weren’t totally sure of your feelings until now, if you had the smallest doubt in your mind that you still loved him, watching him look at you like this made it clear.

You are very much still in love with Chris, and despite everything that went down, you wish things would be different between you.

You dread the hour being over and going back home to your life, devoid of his presence.

“Uhm, don’t laugh at me please.” You start, and Chris already lets out a chuckle. “I tried dancing, painting, boxing-”

“Wait, dancing?” Chris immediately erupts into laughter. “Eun-ji, you can’t be serious!”

“And why not?” You frown jokingly.

“I mean, you were always so bad at it whenever I’d try to show you any moves!” He continues laughing.

“Well, that’s your own fault for having hard ass choreos, not mine!” You retort, laughing along. “Besides, you promised me you wouldn’t laugh!”

“I didn’t promise anything!” He raises his hands in front of him in fake defence, a large smile adorning his face.

“Oh, fuck off!” You exclaim with a chuckle, drawing the last card from your pile. “Why did you invite me here today?”

“Oh.” Chris immediately turns serious and scratches his nape in slight embarrassment. “Uhm, you might know that I have a new album coming out… a solo one?”

“Yeah, I’ve heard something about it.” You nod.

So, after all, you were right, and he only invited you here to promote it.

“I don’t know what that has to do with me, though.” You continue, feeling your heart grow heavy.

“The album is about you, that’s why.” He smiles softly. “Would you maybe like to… listen to one of the songs in it?”

“Sure.” You nod again, your heart beating harder.

“It’s called Eun-ji.”

As he says this, he pulls out his phone and presses play on the song, and the calm beats begin surrounding you two, and soon enough, Chan’s pained voice.

It’s a sad song about a missed love, about regret and pain, about every unspoken feeling Chris had ever since you’ve broken up, and you found yourself tearing up and needing a few napkins to go through the whole thing.

Chris also begins crying, wiping his tears away repeatedly until the song is over, and when it is, he clears his throat and places his phone back in his pocket.

“Eun-ji, I… I’m still in love with you. Do you think that maybe... you would ever see us getting back together? Do you think you could ever give me another chance to fix my mistakes, to fix us?”

As he confesses this, you cry even louder and decide against replying. Instead, you stand up and go directly towards him, plopping yourself in his lap and hugging him tightly, and he immediately welcomes you, his arms circling your frame and pulling you tighter against him.

“I love you too, so, so much, Chris.” You whisper as you draw back, and his hands find your cheeks as he wipes away all the tears that are falling.

“My love, I was so, so wrong and selfish.” He frowns.

You shake your head, not wanting to think about it anymore, and press your lips against his.

Your first kiss after a whole year apart is long and sweet, and he hugs you even closer, and oh, how much you’ve missed him and everything about him. How much you longed to have him again…

“I missed you so much.” You confess, and he buries his head against your chest and sobs quietly in your arms for a few moments.

“Do you… uhm… do you want to get out of here and have some lunch? And maybe dinner, too?” He asks looking right in your eyes, and you nod, so he helps you up and grabs your hand, and without a word more, you two exit the studio together with the silent understanding that you’re back together, willing to work on your mistakes and to make it work this time around.

~The End~

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