#title from the song hope by roar

[fallen-flier]

swim in circles (sniper! tim)

au where tim's parents get kidnapped by obeah man earlier on but they survive. and he becomes a sniper. :)

inspired by @yjcorefourenjoyer's sniper! tim idea, who graciously let me run around in their sandbox. :D

Turns out, when you leave your child alone without a parental figure for months, you can’t integrate yourself back into their life and just pretend all is normal.

You never wanted to parent me before, Tim wants to scream. Why are you even pretending you care now?

But he says none of it, swallows it down his throat dry where it resides in his chest, thick and cloying like a good son. His parents narrowly escaped being killed. Tim is being selfish because he isn’t used to this. It’s fine.

Jack wants him to transfer to a nearby private school and live at home instead of boarding school so he and Mom can keep an eye on him, fine. Tim can adapt, take advantage of the fact that he’s home more to take pictures of Batman and Robin. 

So Tim is twelve years old when his father brings him to a shooting range and puts a hand on his shoulder. Some good ol’ father-son bonding, his dad claims. His dad is too scared to admit what the true purpose is; so Tim won’t be defenseless in case he’s kidnapped.

But it doesn’t matter whether his dad verbalizes it or not: Tim knows, so there’s no point in saying it out loud.

(For a brief moment, he thinks of becoming Robin, of fists and swinging staffs and acrobatics. Of following Batman’s no-kill rule.)

It’s a silly thought. Tim’s parents are very much alive, and his reality is this: gunpowder and cameras and slow, choking patience. Tim is athletic, but doesn’t exactly make a point to get into fights— if he’s attacked, he would have the best chance with a gun.

But for the next few months, Tim drowns under his father’s expectations and his mother’s worried and guilty gaze. The knot in his chest tightens until he struggles for air, and Tim needs something, needs to get out of the house, needs to do something other than follow Batman and Robin because his parents keep checking on him in the middle of the night.

Tim flounders, kicks fruitlessly at the waters until another weekend, when his father brings him out again and he adjusts his stance, aligns his handgun, and waits until his hands are steady.

It doesn’t take long until he speeds through a fire safety certificate test and all but owns his father’s 9mm pistol.

For the first time in what feels like forever, Tim breathes.

It’s a hobby his father supports and something his mother, who sits in her wheelchair, loosens the furrow in her brow for. Before he goes, she quietly brushes her hand over his hair. Remember your gun safety, Tim, she says, and he nods before heading out for another lesson.

Really damn good, his instructor says, and Tim smiles, because his arms are getting used to the recoil and Tim has one of the highest accuracies among all the teens in the class, even if he takes a little longer than everyone.

But it’s no matter: Tim has experience with being patient.

It doesn't take long for Tim to start bringing his handgun out with him while he goes birdwatching. It takes even shorter for Tim to start eyeing the bolt-action rifles jealously, thinking of how much farther he could take it, what he could do. Eighteen years old, he chants, eighteen years old.

Except when Tim turns thirteen, Jason dies. Batman grieves his son’s death in a way that leaves Gotham a bloody, destructive swathe of pain. And Tim can’t just watch, anymore. He goes to Dick, pleas in his mouth, begging him to see that Batman needs a Robin. 

It doesn’t work. And now Two-Face has Bruce and Dick, and Tim has nothing but his 9mm pistol and the location of the Wayne manor. Alfred looks down at him, lips pursed in hesitation, and Tim knows, knows that Robin doesn’t use guns, knows that it would be an abomination to Bruce’s values and Dick’s legacy but he doesn't know what else to do. 

“Please,” he begs.

Surprisingly, it is easier to convince Alfred that he can protect himself with a gun. Tim suspects that Batman will have a different reaction.

–

Bruce and Dick are safe, Two-Face is safely in jail, and Bruce looks at his guns with poorly concealed suspicion and apprehension. And that’s the crux of the matter: Tim uses guns, Robin does not. Tim cannot be Robin, not with his parents so closely around and his only method of protecting himself being a lethal weapon. The worst part is, it all feels like a waste. The hours at the shooting range, his father’s proud smile, his rising accuracy rates, and it sucks, because Tim doesn’t want to feel this way. 

Tim never meant to be Robin. But he needs to become Robin now and Tim has never trained in hand-to-hand combat or swung a staff before. His way out has become another trap, and Tim has never shot a dart gun before, nor is it sustainable to use tranq darts. 

Funny. Tim never seems to be given a choice. But he can’t complain, so he does the next best thing. Tim throws himself into convincing Bruce, tries to prove that he can be Robin, even if he’s fighting a losing battle. There’s really only one way Bruce will accept, and Tim knows it. 

He screams until his voice is hoarse after Batman nearly dies, but he can't be Robin, not until he gives up Tim Drake. Timothy Jackson Drake holds tightly onto a hope that isn't sustainable, thinks of his father who looks at him in the eye and makes him promise that he'll keep his life over everybody else's.

TIm is selfish and he’s drowning again, but so is Gotham.

–

“Tim.”

His dad looks angry, flickers of worry shining from behind his eyes. Tim knows he’s been acting suspicious: too many bruises on his legs and cuts on his arm, coming home later than usual.

Tim shrugs self-deprecatingly. 

“Please, dad? I know it’s not what you want but it’s getting to be a lot and I need to move around my schedule to fit in more.”

“Tim… This wasn't brought on because the boys in your class have been roughhousinging you because you’re better, right?”

“No! It’s not, it’s not,” Tim shakes his head, face burning with mortification. That would be so embarrassing. It seems so juvenile, quitting because he was bothered by the envious comments, rather than quitting because he wanted to take on a vigilante mantle that had a fifty percent mortality rate to make sure Batman didn’t go off his rocker. 

Tim is so grounded when his dad finds out. His father sighs, running a hand through his hair, and Tim guiltily shrinks under his gaze. 

“You spent so long practicing,” his father accuses. There’s the hidden panic Tim was expecting. “I really thought you were into it, Tim.”

Tim flinches. 

“It’s not that,” he mumbles, trying not to feel like he’s wasted so much of his and his father’s time. “I’m just not that interested anymore and…”

And the truth is, Tim hates this choice. But it’s still his decision, to pick up Robin and put down Tim Drake. He goes for the low blow.

“Let me make my own choice for once, okay? You always want me to do this and that and I’m trying, but I want some space to figure out what I like instead of just balancing what you want in favor of what I want.”

His dad freezes, frustration playing out over his features, but Tim knows he’s won this one. 

“I’m going to check up on your mom. I don’t want to talk about this tonight, but we are talking about this.” I can’t stand talking to you right now.

It’s fine, because Tim has won. 

The situation will blow over, and Tim will prove that he can protect himself in other ways, to both his father and Bruce.

And once again his reality shifts: swinging fists and lies and the fast, spiraling rapids of life.

He thinks of steady hands and the quiet click to the loud bang of a gun. He will wait it out, he foolishly thinks. He has practice being patient.

a/n:

so basically this could go a NUMBER of ways, holy. i had so many plans that i derailed and thought over and whatnot

i originally was going to go for tim being a sniper wayyy earlier, like shooting bruce with tranqs post-jason death (which, by the way, tim would've gone through SO many hoops for that, dude is way too tiny to pass as over 18 and has to be a pretty damn good liar to his parents), never becoming robin (prob would've become a vigilante, just with guns)

but oh man in this version i haven't even GOTTEN to sniper! timmy yet...

also! discussed another cool idea with my wonderful beta @pinkcowzz about reverse robins where tim comes back from the dead as a sniper would also be fun. there are many ways that this au could branch out lmao

[hwasoup]

Tale As Old As Time

Playlist !!

songs used for inspo: Prologue (the enchantress), Main Title: Prologue, Act 1 Pas d'action rose adage

art credit goes to Marbipa

Warnings: none for now

words: 518

chapter 1>>

Prologue

Once upon a time… in a faraway land, a young prince lived in a beautiful castle...

The prince was spoiled, foolish, arrogant, and unkind. He exploited the nearby villages to fill his castle with the most beautiful things whether that would be jewelry, furniture, and women. He would have extravagant balls in his castle and even mistreated the servants who served him…

It was a cold and snowy night. It was the prince’s 20th birthday; he held a party with all the riches anyone could imagine. He danced, wined, and played around with his objects. The prince enjoyed his birthday lavishly while not caring that his servants were being almost trampled on. The party continued on for hours until there was a knock on the castle doors, he opened the door and looked down to see a poor beggar woman. “Please sir…accept this single rose in exchange for shelter from the bitter cold” she weakly said. The prince huffed and laughed in her face “As if, I don't need a rose from such an old woman from you…besides I have all the roses that I could ever have...” 

The guests in the party laughed along as well as they mocked the beggar woman. Before the prince was even able to close the door on her, she muttered something softly “do not be deceived by appearances for beauty is found within...” The prince looks at her annoyed and dismisses her again. Then all of a sudden, a bright light emanated from the old woman, her ugliness melting away, her form changing, her appearance suddenly becoming more youthful to reveal a beautiful, giant, and terrifying enchantress. The prince in shock fell on his knees and stared in awe as all of his guests screamed and ran away from the castle, away from what the enchantress might do. “NO, NO... Please… HAVE MERCY ON ME... I WAS WRONG” the prince said, as he wept and begged for forgiveness. However, it was too late…the enchantress could see that there was no love in his heart, she pointed the rose at him and as punishment she transformed him into a hideous beast. The prince cried in agony as his limbs and appearance changed, he became larger, furrier, his hands became paws, his crimson eyes became red, his cries became roars. The enchantress also placed a powerful spell on the castle and on all who lived there. 

Ashamed of his horrid appearance, the prince shunned himself inside the castle with only a magic mirror as his only way to peer into the world outside the castle. The rose that the enchantress offered, was in actuality an enchanted rose which would bloom for many years. If the prince learned how to love someone and earn her love in return by the time the last petal fell from the rose, the spell would be broken. If not…he would be doomed to become a beast for all eternity. As the days turned into months and eventually years… the prince fell into a deep despair and lost all hope 

.....For whom could ever learn…to love a beast?

[coco-loco-nut]

die first

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: Max’s wife is an international superstar, who’s anxieties tend to show up in her songs

Inspired by: die first by Nessa Barret

requests open! masterlist prequel

—————————

“What are you writing, Schatje?” Max asks, sliding onto the piano bench beside you.

“I wrote a song based on my vows,” you tell him, writing down the last couple chords, humming a rhythm to yourself.

Max, ever since I met you, I knew you were special. You’re my fire and my safety, you never try to break me, and you promise to always stay. I promise those same things to you. I don’t want to live without you, I never want to learn how to fall asleep without you, I want to be in love with you forever. You are my forever.

“Play it for me?” he asks when you finish, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. You nod, gently pressing the keys, mentally noting the kinks to fix before recording tomorrow. “It’s beautiful, the fans are going to love it, I love it,” Max compliments and you grin at him.

“I’m excited to announce the album and tour, and I’m glad we follow F1 around Europe. I get to spend more of summer with you that way,” you lean on his shoulder. You dedicated the album to him, and your third record is set to be the best selling one yet.

You took the unconventional route and took his last name after marrying him this year, despite having two hit albums and international fame. You still publish under your maiden name, but the name change caused a lot of shock.

You became an international superstar with your first release and it’s only grown since. Despite your relationship with Max spanning most of your music career, the both of you are able to spend a relatively low profile life in Monaco. Everything you record in the studio down the street is sent to your Hollywood label and released from there.

The next few months see you doing press for the surprise drop that was your bestselling third album and hyping the tour. Tour rehearsals fell during training time for Max and the both of you were going nonstop.

“I have to go to bed, Schatje, love you,” Max yawns over Facetime, you wish him goodnight as you stretch for your last show in North America. Tomorrow you jet to Europe to pick up that leg of the tour.

By the time you reach London, your tour has officially lined up with F1, which means your personal box near the stage is full of drivers, who likely are being bombarded with autograph requests. You slip into your black, sparkly bodysuit and matching hells; hair, makeup, and nails perfectly done; and grab your matching microphone before heading to your mark under the stage. The roar of the crowd energized you as the intro video plays.

“Come on London, let’s have some fun,” you say into the mic before smoke fills the stage above you and the trap door opens, the platform beneath you rising you up. You launch into your opening act. Half an hour later, after prancing and dancing and singing around the stage you take a pause to introduce the next act. The crowd cheers loudly before you have a chance to speak. You look around, smiling at everyone even if you can’t see them.

“London, thank you, my name is Y/n Verstappen, that’s my show for tonight,” you tease, the crowd silences. “Nah, I’m kidding. I wouldn’t leave you hanging like that, not when you are one of the best crowds I’ve had on tour,” you tell them, giving them a second to cheer.

“Since you have been such a great host, I wanted to share something special about this next song, something not many people know, but not quite yet. Quick shoutout to the F1 drivers here tonight, including my handsome husband, y’all are cool. But not as cool as everyone else here,” you purposely leave them hanging a little, blowing a kiss in the direction of Max.

“Alright, so, this next song is not only the title of my new album, but I also took parts of my vows and wrote them into the song. I hope you like it,” you say and the crowd cheers as the first chords play behind you.

“Thank you, London! Goodnight!” After the concert, you rush backstage and into Max’s open arms.

“You were incredible, Liefje” Max kisses you. Charles jokingly gags behind you.

“Thank you, Maxie,” you whisper, hugging him tight. Your assistant hands you a towel to put around your neck and a bottle of water which you happily take.

“You had a great show,” the other drivers tell you, all complimenting the show and thanking you for the tickets. You thank them for attending and excuse yourself so you could change. Max reminds them of the post-show dinner and club plans and carries you to your dressing room. You collapse on the couch, as Max chuckles at your dramatics.

“I swear the best part of a show is laying down after,” you groan and Max gently takes off your heels causing you to moan in relief.

“Y/n! People are going to think we are doing things in here,” Max laughs, you wave him off, changing into comfy but club appropriate clothes. Max helps you take off your stage makeup, and redoes your hair as you put a little bit of normal makeup on.

“Ready, Maxie?” you ask, grabbing your purse. It is nice knowing that assistants will take everything back to the hotel for you.

“I promise I will always come back home to you, I know my driving style is agressive, but I won’t make you learn how to fall asleep without me,” Max says, his hands holding your face gently.

“I know, but I will always be scared when you are on the track. You can’t promise nothing will happen, but I know you will always try,” you tell him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. You stay in his embrace for a minute until rejoining half of the paddock. I can be in love forever, if I die first…

[adverbally]

I Still Got You to Be My Open Door

Written for the @steddieangstyaugust prompt “‘Go, see if I care.’” | wc: 662 | rated: T | cw: referenced parental neglect | tags: established relationship, hurt/comfort, steve’s parents suck, references to cutting off contact with parents | title from “Grey Room” by Damien Rice

Steve’s own voice echoes after him as he slams the front door and stomps to his car.

“How did you think I would react?” Infuriated. Poisonous.

He fumbles his keys and they fall to the asphalt with a discordant jangle that sounds the way his nerves feel. He has to shut his eyes and breathe for a moment so he doesn’t fall apart.

“If you don’t want me here, I’ll go somewhere else.” Emotionless. Numb.

Another breath, then Steve retrieves his keys. He wonders, as he unlocks the car door, if he should leave his house key. He could drop it in the mailbox, slip it under the doormat. He could throw it in the pool or toss it into the woods behind the house…

The silence inside the car is deafening. It was quiet enough outside, the sun already setting on a short fall day, but every bird’s song and rustle of leaves had seemed magnified by the roar of his pulse in his ears. The car muffles everything outside, leaving Steve alone with his thoughts.

“Go, see if I care.” Sneering. Disdainful.

That’s the part that stings the most. His parents dropped this on him over the phone. They couldn’t even be bothered to come home to discuss it. Probably because in their minds, there is nothing to discuss. They will be selling the house, they will be moving to New York for his dad’s business, and they need his belongings packed up by the end of the month.

They didn’t invite him to come with them. They hadn’t even thought to ask what his plans were, now that they were yanking his home out from under him.

“Good luck in the city, I guess.” Hurt. Abandoned.

Steve drives around town in silence for what feels like hours, replaying the conversation over and over. What should he have said differently? Would it have changed anything? No, he decides. At the end of the day, the fact is that his parents don’t care about him, don’t even know him, and this kind of fight was a long time coming.

It still makes Steve’s throat tight. Standing up for himself like this means he’s given up all hope of having a relationship with his parents. As unlikely as that was, the possibility had been there. They could wake up one day and realize how absent and neglectful they had been, could apologize and beg for his forgiveness and try to make it up to him. That bridge is well and truly burned, now, which isn’t surprising but still feels like a gut punch.

Without consciously picking a destination, Steve finds himself parked outside the Munson home. He kills the headlights, shuts off the ignition, but doesn’t get out of the car. Now that he’s stopped moving, he doesn’t have the momentum to start again.

The tap on his window is gentle but it still makes him jump. Of course it’s Eddie, standing there in one of Steve’s old Hawkins High sweatshirts, peering at him through the glass with that concerned frown Steve loves so much. “You okay?” he mouths.

Steve can’t begin to answer that right now. He opens the car door, careful not to hit Eddie, and slips out right into Eddie’s comforting embrace.

“Hey, what happened?” Eddie murmurs, one hand holding Steve’s head against his shoulder and the other rubbing up and down his back.

“My parents,” he sighs. That about sums it up.

Eddie doesn’t ask him to elaborate, just squeezes him tighter. “You can stay over if you want. Wayne won’t mind, and he’s working tonight anyway.”

Everything will wait until tomorrow, when the hurt isn’t so fresh and he can make plans with a clear head. For tonight, Steve can cuddle up with his boyfriend, in borrowed clothes that smell like Eddie, maybe smoke a little, and stop thinking so hard.

“Thanks,” he tells Eddie, his voice small.

Eddie kisses the top of his head. “Any time.”

[thatlotuscookie]

Hey hypno! Could you write a My Hero Academia request for ProheroBakugo x PopstarReader? The reader being a popstar (inpsired by sabrina carpenter) and goes on tour and does the Juno performance dedicated to bakugo their fiance

✧･ﾟ: a/n: hope you like it, anon! It was super fun to put Juno in the story:) And for all you Sabrina Carpenter fans, I hope you enjoyed this too! Thank you for the request, anon <3

✧ Title: ✧ Stardust & Dynamite ✧ ✧ Characters: Pro Hero Bakugo Katsuki x Popstar Reader (Fem!Reader) ✧ Genre: Fluff, Romance, Slightly Suggestive ✧ Rating: T ✧ Summary: On the final night of your Short N’ Sweet tour, you dedicate your most famous song, “Juno,” to the person who holds your heart—Pro Hero Bakugo, your fiancé. As the lyrics hint at a future together, Bakugo’s reaction is... heated. ✧ Content Warnings: Public performance, slight suggestiveness, mention of starting a family, fame/spotlight, spicy lyrics. ✧ WC: 1128 // 6.3k chars

The final show of your Short N’ Sweet tour was on, and you could feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins. The last song of the night was coming up, and this one held extra meaning. As you scanned the crowd, all eyes glued on you, your mind drifted to him, the only one who mattered in the sea of faces.

In the VIP section, Bakugo Katsuki—Pro Hero Dynamight—stood with his arms crossed, his signature scowl in place. His gaze, though, never wavered from you, like a hawk fixated on its prey. He was always there, watching from the shadows, but tonight, you planned on dragging him into the spotlight and making him a part of your world in front of thousands.

“This next one’s dedicated to someone really important to me,” you announced, breathless from the last song but buzzing with anticipation. “Some of you might know it—it’s called ‘Juno.’”

The crowd roared in recognition, a wave of energy surging through the arena, but your attention zeroed in on Bakugo. His crimson eyes narrowed slightly, his scowl deepening as if he knew you were about to do something that would challenge his comfort zone.

Grinning mischievously, you continued, “This one’s for you, Katsuki.”

He stiffened at the mention of his name, surprise flashing briefly in his eyes. Public declarations of affection weren’t his thing, but that didn’t matter. You knew he was listening, every word slicing through the distance he often kept.

The beat of “Juno” kicked in, and the familiar melody filled the stadium, wrapping around you like a warm embrace. For you, though, it felt like the song was for him alone, a private performance in front of thousands, filled with unspoken promises and desires.

“Don’t have to tell your hot ass a thing Oh yeah, you just get it Whole package, babe, I like the way you fit God bless your dad’s genetics, mm, uh…”

Bakugo’s eyes darkened, his jaw clenched as he watched you own the stage. He wasn’t one for grand public gestures, preferring to keep his feelings hidden, but you knew him well enough to recognize the way his breath caught when you sang. His grip on the railing tightened, his gaze burning into you with more intensity than usual. You were getting under his skin, and it thrilled you.

He smirked, a flicker of pride dancing in his eyes as he appreciated how brazen you were, how unapologetically you made him feel seen. But when you hit the pre-chorus, something stirred deeper inside him, twisting emotions he had yet to fully acknowledge.

“You make me wanna make you fall in love, Oh, late at night, I'm thinking 'bout you, ah-ah… Wanna try out my fuzzy pink handcuffs? Oh, I hear you knockin’, baby, come on up…”

Bakugo’s heart skipped a beat. Damn, this song was bolder than he expected, filled with innuendo that ignited a fire in his chest. His mind was racing, imagining you whispering those very words to him in private. The cheeky lyrics, the sway of your hips as you sang them—it was driving him wild. He swallowed hard, trying to maintain his cool, but he could feel the heat rising in his body.

Then you locked eyes with him as you slid into the chorus.

“I know you want my touch for life, If you love me right, then who knows? I might let you make me Juno… You know I just might…”

The implication of the words didn’t slip past him. Juno? The idea of locking things down, starting a family… It left his mind spinning. Did you mean what he thought you did? His hands flexed by his sides, a flurry of emotions swirling in his chest. He hadn’t thought about kids much before, but hearing you sing about it—hell, it didn’t sound like a bad idea. You were already engaged, and the thought of being married soon made the idea of starting a family feel more tangible, more real.

“Let you lock me down tonight, One of me is cute, but two though?”

He coughed, trying to hide the faint blush creeping up his neck. “Damn tease,” he muttered under his breath, feeling all sorts of emotions bubbling to the surface. The image of the two of you, together, building a future, lingered in his mind, unearthing feelings he wasn’t quite ready to confront but couldn’t deny.

By the time you reached the final chorus, the energy between you two crackled like electricity in the air. Bakugo was watching you like a hawk, his face flushed, his breathing unsteady. The way you looked at him, full of love and mischief, nearly knocked the wind out of him. You weren’t just performing; you were weaving a tapestry of hopes and dreams that felt impossible to ignore.

The last note echoed through the stadium, and the crowd erupted in applause, a cacophony of cheers and shouts. But Bakugo wasn’t paying attention to any of that. His gaze stayed fixed on you, intense and unwavering, as if you were the only thing that existed in that moment.

Once you stepped off the stage, your feet moved straight toward him, drawn by an invisible thread. Without hesitation, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you into him, his breath hot against your ear.

“That song…” he growled, his voice low and rough, tinged with a mix of desire and something deeper. “You tryin’ to tell me somethin’?”

You smiled up at him, your heart racing as you wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling the heat radiating from his body. “Maybe.”

Bakugo’s lips twitched into a smirk, his eyes gleaming with a mix of pride and unmasked yearning. “You better not be messing with me, ‘cause I’ll make sure you get exactly what you’re asking for.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, a thrill of excitement racing through you as you couldn’t help but laugh softly, pressing closer. “Maybe that’s the plan, Katsuki.”

“Tch, you really are a piece of work.” He leaned in, his lips brushing against your forehead, a tender moment amid the chaos of the night. “But you’re mine, and don’t you forget it.”

You nodded, your heart swelling with affection, the world outside fading into insignificance. “Never.”

In that moment, with his arms wrapped around you, the noise of the crowd fading into the background, you knew that no matter where your career took you, Bakugo Katsuki would always be the one you came home to. The love between you was more than just a fleeting thrill; it was the promise of a future together, and as you looked into his eyes, you could see it—a shared life, filled with laughter, chaos, and perhaps one day, the pitter-patter of tiny feet running around.

[ricciardosheart]

I have so many short & sweet videos on my fyp right now. I can’t stop thinking about singer!reader announcing her f1 bf by arresting him and dedicating Juno to him like Sabrina does at her concerts. The fans would go wild!!! I’m desperate for this fic

I hope you like this, i wrote it on a whim

Title: Sweet Arrest

Summary: Sabrina Carpenter-inspired reader, a rising pop star, shocks her fans by revealing her Formula 1 driver boyfriend most unexpectedly—by arresting him on stage. But that’s not the only surprise she has planned.

The stage lights flickered as (Y/N) took a deep breath, her heart racing with anticipation. Tonight, she wasn’t just performing for her fans—she was about to drop a bombshell.

“Thank you so much for being here tonight!” she called out, her voice barely audible over the deafening roar of the crowd. The energy was electric, every fan on the edge of their seat. They could feel it. Something big was about to happen.

After weeks of teasing and cryptic Instagram posts, the rumors had hit a fever pitch. Fans speculated about a secret romance, dissecting every tiny clue for answers. And now, they were about to get them.

"But," (Y/N) continued, pacing the stage dramatically, "before we move on to the next song, I think it’s time to address the elephant in the room. Or should I say... the race car driver?"

The crowd screamed, the volume almost painful as hundreds of fans shouted in excitement. They knew. They knew this was the moment they'd been waiting for.

"I think it's time for all of you to finally meet someone who's been... causing a little bit of trouble." (Y/N) paused for dramatic effect, leaning into the mic. "In fact, you could say he’s been... arrested for it."

The arena exploded with excitement, but before anyone could process what she meant, two burly security guards appeared from the shadows, dragging someone out in handcuffs. His head was bowed, his hair messy, but his trademark grin was unmistakable.

It was him. The Formula 1 driver everyone had been talking about.

Gasps erupted, followed by screams, as the fans realized they were witnessing the reveal of the year. He stumbled toward the center of the stage, fake "arrested," but clearly in on the joke, grinning as he locked eyes with (Y/N).

"You guys know who this is, right?" (Y/N) asked the crowd, her voice teasing.

"YESSSSS!" they screamed back, some fans chanting his name.

The guards brought him to the middle of the stage, and he looked at her with a playful smirk. "Really, babe? Is this how you’re going to introduce me? By getting me 'arrested'?"

(Y/N) shrugged innocently, flipping her hair. "Hey, you know what they say—you’ve gotta make an entrance."

The crowd roared with laughter as he shook his head in disbelief. "Well, I’m here now. Can you at least uncuff me?"

"Oh, I don’t know..." she teased, pacing around him like a detective closing in on her suspect. "You’ve been causing a lot of mischief. Breaking hearts, winning races... maybe you deserve to be locked up."

He leaned toward her, smirking. "Come on, I’m innocent. Besides, didn’t you say I was stealing your heart?"

The fans screamed even louder at the flirty exchange, some literally jumping up and down as the tension built on stage.

"Hmm," she pretended to consider, tapping her chin, "you’ve got a point there."

With a signal from her, the security guards removed his handcuffs, and he stretched his arms dramatically, clearly loving every moment of it.

As soon as he was free, he pulled (Y/N) into a playful hug, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around. The crowd lost it, phones raised high in the air to capture the iconic moment.

"You’re insane, you know that?" he whispered into her ear, his voice low enough that only she could hear.

"And you love me for it," she whispered back, grinning as she was set back on her feet.

"Yeah, I do."

Just as the crowd began to settle, (Y/N) stepped back to the mic. "Okay, okay, now that we’ve got the ‘criminal’ on stage..." she glanced at him, winking, "...I think there’s one more thing we need to do before we move on."

Her boyfriend raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. This wasn’t part of the original plan. "Wait, what are you talking about?"

She smirked, stepping closer to him. "You didn’t think I’d only arrest you, did you?"

The fans were on edge now, murmurs of excitement rippling through the crowd. Something else was coming.

(Y/N) turned to her band and gave them a nod. The lights dimmed, and a slow, melodic beat began to fill the arena.

"Surprise!" (Y/N) said into the mic, locking eyes with her boyfriend. "You’re about to join me in a duet."

His jaw dropped, eyes widening in genuine shock. "No way. You’re not serious!"

"Oh, I’m dead serious." She grinned, gesturing to the mic stand next to hers. "You think you can handle it?"

The crowd was going wild, chanting his name. The driver looked out at the audience, then back at (Y/N). "You know I’ve never sung in front of this many people in my life, right?"

"Guess there’s a first time for everything," she teased, handing him the mic.

He stared at the mic like it was a ticking time bomb, but the playful sparkle in (Y/N)’s eyes told him there was no escaping this. "Fine," he said, shaking his head with a grin. "But if I crash and burn, it’s on you."

"I’m not worried," she teased, and with that, the intro to a famous song they both loved began playing through the speakers.

The audience screamed when they recognized the tune—one of the most romantic songs ever written.

As the first verse began, (Y/N) took the lead, her voice soft but powerful as she sang into the mic. She kept her eyes on him, and when it was time for his part, she gave him a reassuring nod.

He hesitated for just a moment before bringing the mic up to his lips. "I can't believe you’re making me do this," he muttered into the mic, drawing laughs from the audience.

But then he started to sing, and to everyone’s surprise—including his—he wasn’t bad at all.

The crowd went crazy, phones lighting up the arena like stars as they sang along. The chemistry between them was undeniable as they sang together, their voices blending in a way that made the moment feel almost cinematic.

When the song ended, the fans erupted in applause, screaming so loudly it was almost deafening.

Her boyfriend looked at her in disbelief, still holding the mic. "You’re never letting me live this down, are you?"

"Nope," she said with a playful grin. "Consider this payback for keeping our relationship a secret."

He laughed, shaking his head. "Okay, fair enough."

But just when the fans thought the surprises were over, (Y/N) leaned into the mic one last time.

"Before we go..." she said, the crowd immediately quieting, hanging on her every word. She turned to him, her eyes softening. "There’s something else I want to share."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting this. "What now?"

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, shining object—a key.

"For all the trouble you’ve caused me," she said with a smirk, holding up the key, "I think it’s only fair that you get a key to my place. What do you say?"

The fans screamed even louder as his eyes widened in surprise.

"You’re serious?" he asked, still processing the moment.

She nodded, smiling softly. "Yeah, I’m serious."

Without missing a beat, he took the key, grinning as he leaned in to kiss her, the fans absolutely losing their minds.

The kiss was short, sweet, and sealed with a promise. A promise for more adventures, both on and off the stage, and a future where secrets were no longer needed.

As the lights dimmed and the final song began to play, the crowd knew they had just witnessed the concert of a lifetime—one filled with surprises, laughter, and love.

[deanbrainrotwritings]

— BORN FOR LOVING YOU

REQUEST : “Omg do you think you Could do the whole gets caught reading smut but with Sam instead please!!!” — @bookobsessedfreak

PAIRING : sam winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : dean winchester

WARNINGS : nsfw(18+), fluff, smut, fingering, praise kink, pussy slapping, cum kisses, unprotected sex (Sam’s too smart for that, no smooth brains allowed), rough sex, dom!sam, awkwardness

WORD COUNT : 5.3k

A/N : surprise for the sam girlies! title from big thief’s song. i never imagined I’d end up writing for sam, but hey, he’s so silly, I loved writing him. saw the book Chasing Love by Kat T. Masen on an Instagram reel LOL and it inspired this. I hope this is what you were expecting <333

Sam knew you loved reading. He never asked what it was read despite the obviously exotic covers on the books you carried around.

He stared at you when you opened them up shamelessly in front of him, watching the expressions on your face. He noticed when you’d bite your lip at a certain page, the slack-jawed focus when you really settled into it, the consideration as your eyes trailed away after rereading a section, and the confusion that furrowed your brows at other times.

He thought you looked cute. The blush that settled over your face was hard to hide, as the soft locks of your hair curtained your face. Other times you’d giggle, a sound that he loved hearing from you, and you’d slam the book down, startling him and Dean. Then, you’d compose yourself with a polite smile and a clear of your throat when Sam raised a brow at you. When Dean tried to take the book from you to see what excited you, you’d snatch it up off the table away from his grasp and he’d stick his tongue out at you before refocusing on the movie he was watching on his laptop.

Sam liked those moments: while he was absorbed in his research, you were reading and giggling, and Dean would roar out a laugh at the videos he’d watch. It was comfortable to be surrounded by his girlfriend and his brother, at peace for a few moments at least.

You were secretive about your books at first, and if it wasn’t for Dean, you never would’ve started to be comfortable about it.

Dean was like a brother to you and you loved him to death.

He found out about your book when he dug into your bag after you asked him to take a shirt out for you after your shower. When he felt the hard surface of a book, he was intrigued. Why would you carry around a book in your bag? He’d never seen you read, never saw you write in a journal, so he pulled it out for a quick peek, but he instead began to read the book which was underneath the stack of shirts you kept inside.

You’d stepped outside the bathroom in annoyance, shouting at Dean for taking so long. You stared at Dean with wide eyes and red face when you saw the familiar book in his hands. He’d closed it and then laughed at you, settling it down deep inside your bag, before handing you a shirt.

“You and Sammy must have lots of fun…” he’d joked thoughtlessly, then he grimaced when you snatched the shirt from him with a glare. “Actually, I don’t wanna think about that,” he frowned and shook his head, turning away when you silently asked for privacy.

“I’m never asking you for a favour,” you grumbled, throwing the towel to the floor when you put her clothes on.

“What? Why?” Dean complained, turning to look at you carefully. “So you read porn? Whatever, man! Have you seen the magazines in my room? Or the porn I leave open on Sam’s computer?” At that, he snickered and you gave him a pointed look, starting to brush your partially dry hair to detangle it.

He sighed and sat down on the bed in front of you, biting his lip as he thought about what to say. You were pretty shy sometimes, but feisty, he didn’t know why you’d be ashamed or embarrassed about porn. It’s not like you were a virgin, or like you and Sam hadn’t done the deed plenty of times.

“Do you really think me or Sam actually care that you wanna read stuff like this?” He asked, watching you slowly move your gaze to his. “Sam has porn under his bed, I’m sure you know, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Neither of us are gonna judge you, okay?”

“I know that,” you chuckled, shrugging. You set the brush down and sighed, thinking about why you feel embarrassed by it when you know how weird Dean’s taste in porn is and that Sam isn’t as much of a prude as everyone thinks he is. “I guess… maybe I’m not very comfortable with myself and sex.. I don’t know, it’s weird,” you admitted, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“Hey,” Dean said, getting you to look up at him, “that’s fine. You just gotta get used to it, and uh, seriously, don’t hide what you like, okay? I’m sure it’ll make stuff between you and Sam… uh, spicier? Ah, shit, that’s gross.. maybe uh, more transparent? You know what I mean,” Dean rambled, slapping your knee very hard.

You laughed and shoved him away, considering his words as he got up with a chuckle to get back to cleaning the guns.

That was the start of your journey with being comfortable about sex. It really made you feel better. At first, as you tested the waters, you’d join in on whatever sexual innuendo Dean dropped, he’d been stunned by your lewdness, but he laughed anyway. Sam chuckled softly, for the first time, and it made Dean pick a fight with him for it.

You and Dean became close, definitely started to compete on who could be dirtier, with Sam either uncomfortable or red in the face from the things that were coming out of your mouth. Dean encouraged you, dared you to tease Sam, confident and sultry, until you left him speechless, flustered, and horny.

It was a game for you now, something fun and without shame. You’d never been more comfortable with yourself and sex like you were now, realising and learning things about yourself that you didn’t know and finding out what you liked with Sam.

It brought the two of you closer, somehow, and it was amazing. Sam wasn’t complaining either, at least not when it was just the two of you. It was a whole new level of love and romance you’d reached together, a level neither of you were aware was waiting for you to discover.

So, here he was, sitting in the dark library with your newest book, only a lamp at the table lighting up the text. Dean had gone out to meet some girl he’d been texting for a few days for a quick fuck. You were hanging out with your friends, catching up with them after a long time of not having seen each other.

Sam had gone out to buy groceries in the meantime, trying to get his mind off those books that clearly drove you crazy, but by the end of all the chores—the cleaning, the organising, the clothes washing—he had nothing to do but wait for you to get back.

He scrolled through news articles on his laptop, checked his phone multiple times for any new messages, but he evenly gave up on his restraint. With a long sigh of frustration, he made his way to your room, stared at your neat shelf and picked out the book you’d recently received from one of your girlfriends.

He snorted as he looked over the cover, Chasing Love. He hesitated as he quickly flipped through the book, the smell of crisp, new paper wafting up to his nose. He guiltily turned around after carefully reading the Blurb in the first few pages, walking out of your room with the book in hand.

Still, he couldn’t bring himself to read it at first. He kept it beside him as he boredly scrolled through lore, but he’d glance at it in between tasks and his heart thumped in his chest, heat flooding his body.

He squirmed in his seat and grabbed the book without a second thought, searching for the first chapter, cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. He huffed out a breath and cleared his throat, looking around as if Cas would pop in and catch him in the middle of this.

He slowly started to settle into the book, his laptop shut off after fifteen minutes and he was already absorbed into the book, the words and the characters starting to flow through his imagination.

His eyes trailed away from the words sometimes, replaying the first sex scene in his mind as himself and you. He wondered if you liked it, how it’d make you feel if he did it, and why you never brought any of this up when it was this hot.

The memory of your warm skin beneath his hands and your soft lips moulding against his made his cock stir. He chewed on his lip and continued to read, recomposing himself, thinking of you the whole time.

As he read, page by page, he tried to remember what you looked like when you read this. He remembers the frustration making you frown, irritation making you roll your eyes and set the book down, how you did lots of thinking on certain pages while biting your lip or with disgust written on your face, and the arousal flustering you. He understood now which parts intrigued you and why.

The book was infuriating at times and the main characters irked him, but he couldn’t stop and just wanted to get to the end. Unfortunately, the universe had other plans, and the metallic door of the Bunker’s entrance groaned loudly, snapping Sam out of his daze.

He looked around, panicked and grabbed the book he was reading to hide it in between all the other books on the shelves. He scrambled back to his seat as the door slammed shut and turned his laptop on, settling into his chair to pretend he was still working on research.

His stomach fluttered when you shouted his name playfully, the tune of a song sweetening your voice. You sounded happier, relaxed, and he smiled, standing up to meet you where the war table lit up at the bottom of the staircase.

He greeted you with a kiss on the lips, sweet and quick, but your hands held his jaw in place and you pushed yourself up on your toes to kiss him harder. He moaned softly, pressing his hands into the small of your back so you were squished against him completely.

“Hi,” you whispered against his lips. He gave you a softer kiss and smiled lovingly at you, wrapped one of his arms around you to keep you close and raised his hand to cup the side of your face.

“Hey, how’d it go?” He leaned down to kiss you again before you answered, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek.

“Really great, I guess I really needed that,” you admitted, closing your eyes to his touch. “I did miss you though. I’m so used to spending every second of my life with you.” Your eyes fluttered open and he was already gazing at you, admiring you.

You didn’t always have time to get dolled up with hunting taking up most of your time, and if you’re ever pretending to be professionals, you keep the makeup natural and to a minimum. But right now, you looked fantastic, your beauty was enhanced by colours of your makeup that brought out the parts of you that he adored the most.

On top of that, the dress you wore was sexy and tight, wrapping around your curves and the dips of your body deliciously, your cleavage pushed up so seductively with the bra you chose to wear underneath. You were radiant with happiness and warmth, your shoulders and face relaxed in ways he hadn’t seen in such a long time. Hunting was really wearing you all down, he figured he should consider taking a break, too, with you for a while. Maybe even just one day.

“I missed you too,” he told you gently.

“How much?” You asked with a smirk, pressing your palms against his firm chest and sliding down to the hem of his grey v-neck. He smirked at you, then blushed and chuckled, dipping his chin to avert his gaze.

“Well, I do wanna take all your clothes off now that I’ve admired you in it,” he murmured, looking down at you intently. You grinned up at him, warmth blossoming in your stomach. Your breath clogged your throat when you felt his fingers tangle in the hair at the back of your neck, tugging softly so your head would tilt back. Your flirtatious words died the moment his palm struck your ass, replaced by an aroused yelp.

He leaned down to kiss you once again, with more passion, nipping at your bottom lip until you whined. He palmed your ass teasingly, tugged harder at your hair so your hiss permitted his tongue to slip between your painted lips.

You clung to his hips desperately, your knees growing weak with each swipe of his soft tongue against yours. You pulled away with a gasp unable to breathe as he stole the breath from your lungs, but he didn’t care. He grazed your jaw with his teeth instead, and bit down roughly on your pulse, soft strands of his brown hair tickling your shoulder, making you shiver with desire.

“Please, fuck me, Sam,” you moaned, arching into him as he licked and sucked at the entice spot behind your ear. Your body burned and ached for his touch on your bare skin, your nipples tightened in the lace bra, your pussy clenching and weeping with desire.

He smirked against your skin, “I will, but let me enjoy this first, beautiful.”

You shuddered again at his warm breath tickling your skin, his lips ghosting above your collarbone, traced by his tongue. He pressed soft kisses downward, until he got to your breasts. His grip on your hair didn’t let up and the other hand slid down between your legs from behind, his middle finger teasing your entrance over your soaked panties.

“Oh, fucking fuck,” you whined, squirming in his grasp. He bit and sucked at your cleavage, marking you possessively, and untangled your hair from his hand so he could wrap it around his fist perfectly, tighter.

He pulled away from you completely, all of the sudden, leaving you cold. You forced your eyes open to stare up at him, flushing when his hazel eyes glossed over with carnality. You released his hips to clutch his shirt, readying to remove it from his body.

“I’m gonna fuck you right here,” he told you, his voice dripping with the same lust that washed over his eyes. You moaned before he tugged at your hair again, testing your reaction. You bit your lip and leaned back against the war table, begging with your eyes for him to go through with it.

Sam hummed softly, his fingers grazed your thigh, moved in between to playfully brush your clit over the lace of your underwear. You panted harder and faster with every passing second, his teasing fingers slipped inside your underwear, the elastic waistband stretching around his hand. You parted your legs desperately, your body singing with pleasure as his fingers dipped into your wet cunt, gathering up your juices to play with your pulsing clit.

“You get so wet so fast,” he praised, “it’s so fucking hot.” You moaned his name, felt your orgasm approaching faster than you’d liked, but he rubbed your clit so perfectly, just the way he knew you liked. He tugged at your hair roughly, forcing your eyes open once again when you tensed up the closer you got to finishing. “Come for me, you’re so gorgeous when you come,” he whispered, and you did.

You gasped his name and moaned loudly, quivering as your pussy clenched and unclenched around nothing. It always impressed you that Sam could make you come in less than five minutes. He bit his lip as he watched you, your jaw slack and brows furrowed as you stared back at him. His fingers circled slower, moving at the same pace as the slow of your orgasm.

“I can’t wait to strip you out of this tight little dress.” Sam dipped his fingers down to your entrance, pressed his fingers inside your clenching walls to feel your cum. The slick substance stuck to his fingers and he pulled his fingers out of your underwear and lifted them up to smear your arousal across your painted lips. “I can’t wait to play with your tits,” he murmured, pushing his fingers between your lips.

You stared at him seductively, lost in desire, completely unable to do anything but take what he gave you. You sucked on his fingers, moaned at the taste of yourself, and melted into a puddle of sin when he pumped his fingers in and out of your mouth, mimicking the movement of his cock when he’d fuck your face.

“I can’t wait to bury my cock inside your sweet pussy,” he groaned softly at the sight of you and pulled his fingers away to kiss the taste of you away. He sucked your lips fervently and licked wildly into your mouth, your hands subconsciously moving through his hair to tug almost as hard as he was tugging at yours.

He pulled away and panted aginst your mouth. He let go of your hair and reached beneath your dress to rip your panties off your body. All you could do was gasp. Then he reached up to unzip your dress, letting it fall around your feet. You kicked it away from you, stared at him expectantly and reached for his shirt.

“I need to feel you inside me now, Sam,” you whispered impatiently as you tugged his shirt upwards. He quickly slid it over his head and let it fall to where your dress was, you took the chance to admire his sturdy form. His hard abs became taught with every move and his sleep-pants hung low on his hips, the band of his boxers peeking above them. His hard cock easily tented the flimsy material, it made your mouth watered at the thought of tasting him and your pussy wanted to be stretched and filled. “Take everything off,” you ordered impatiently.

He wasted no time and shoved the garments down his legs without protest while you unclasped your bra expertly with one hand. All your clothes fell into a messy pile on the floor with your dress and ripped panties.

Once you stood naked in front of each other, it became a race of who would make the first move. Sam was faster than you, silencing your protests and subduing you with a hungry kiss. His fingers pinched and pulled at your nipples, a painful type of pleasure that made you so impossibly horny you nearly considered coming on the spot from the feeling alone, but it was nothing compared to the feeling of his mouth.

Hot and wet, he stepped his mouth down to your chest, licked at your nipple and sucked the sensitive nubs until you were squirming. You indecisively pushed his head into your breasts and tugged it away by his hair so he’d lick you somewhere else.

Sam had already made up his mind about how the night would go and he turned you around so you faced away from him with the table beside you. You had nothing to stare at but the dark library. Your heels gave you some help when he reached for the back of your thigh and slid his hand down to wrap around your knee, lifting it up onto the edge of the table.

“You’re so desperate to be fucked, aren’t you?” He teased, massaging the globes of your ass. You twisted your body slightly, leaning over to press your hands flat on the table, your pussy tingling with anticipation of his next move.

“Please, I need you so bad, Sam,” you replied with a moan. He kept his hand on your hip and squeezed possessively. You felt two of his fingers prodding at your wet hole, slowly he pushed them into you and back out to infuriate you and make you needier. The pads of his long fingers brushed over the spongy spot against your walls repeatedly, and your legs shook on the table. With a curse you whispered Sam’s name again, hoping he’ll end the delightful torture as his fingers prepared you for him.

He pulled his fingers from within your heat, replacing them with his hot cock to slide through your folds from behind you without warning. You whimpered pathetically as the head of his cock teased your clit, your heart fluttered excitedly, and you reached back to curl your fingers around the back of his neck to pull him close.

“You feel so good, Sam,” you uttered breathlessly.

“Are you ready for me, gorgeous?” He asked, moving your hair out of the way to drop kisses along your shoulder. You moaned softly at his words, his smirk evident as he brushed his lips up to your neck.

“Yeah,” you whispered, desperately wanting to be filled, needing to be fucked, by him only.

You felt the prod of his cock at your entrance, teasing your entrance with a few circles before slowly pushing in. Your breath hitched and you ached to get closer, but he held you in place with a firm hand on your hip. You pulled at his hair, silently commanding him to relinquish control to fuck you the way you needed to be, but he continued to slide into you slowly, and back out slightly. It was almost enough to make you cum.

You felt embarrassed by how close you’ve been to your orgasm when Sam had barely done anything but graze your sweet spots. It wasn’t surprising, but it always caught you off guard how easily your body gave into him. Right now, you felt like exploding around his cock, the stretch of him around your walls, it all felt unbearably gratifying.

Once he was completely inside you, he barely gave you time to adjust before he began fucking you in earnest. It was quick and hot, the pump of his cock in and out of you. Loud and wet sounds resounded throughout the Bunker, your wet cunt being filled by his cock. It was pornographic.

His fingers dug roughly into the soft flesh of your hips, red stripes following his nails the harder he fucked you. He held you up with his arm around your waist, his teeth sinking into your shoulder, overwhelming your senses with endless pleasure. You all but moaned out your pleasure like a porn star, unashamed and so, so happy you two were alone.

The sounds just ripped out of you and he rewarded you with harsh bites wherever he could reach. His fingers found your breasts, squeezing and kneading, plucking your nipples and pinching them until you cried out his name begging for him to give you more.

His hot breath left your skin warm and damp, but it felt so good, he’d grunt your name into your neck, against your nape, until you felt tingles running up your spine. Sam was complete sin. His hips smacked loudly and roughly against your ass, too. The pain he made you feel was just a thin strip compared to the pleasure, and it was something he had mastered to drive you insane.

You didn’t need much more to orgasm and he must have known, he knew you so well. He dropped his hand from your breasts and smacked your clit so hard you walls tightened around him in surprise, and you whimpered loudly. A dark chuckle from Sam followed a second slap, but he soothed your swollen clit with messy circles that drove you over the edge to your orgasm unexpectedly.

“That’s right, come for me,” he whispered. His cock throbbed and twitched while you screamed his name. Your walls clamped down around him, and he continued to rub your clit as your arousal dripped down your thighs. “You’re all mine, baby… Fuck, I love you,” he grunted as he came inside you. He pushed himself as deep as he could, and the tip of his cock touched the deepest parts of you when he swivelled his hips with a moan, desperate to claim you. It drove you to your third orgasm, hot spurts of his cum filling you up erotically.

“You’re so sexy,” he praised, removing his fingers from your now sensitive clit. Your lungs burned and you tried hard to recover, but you were a puddle in his arms. All you could do was catch your breath and be astonished by your boyfriend’s ability to make you come with a few strokes inside you, and just with the feeling of his cum warming up your insides.

“Jesus Christ, Sam,” you said hoarsely. He laughed breathlessly, lovingly kissing the bruises and bite marks he left on your neck and back. “That was amazing,” you said with a smile, relaxing into him some more. He pulled off you instead, and you gasped when you felt his cum slide down the inside of your thigh. You clenched your legs to stop anymore from leaving you, and looked up at him.

He was glowing, his cheeks were pink and his lips were swollen and red. Why’d he make sex hair look so hot? His skin glistened with sweat and his muscles flexed with every little move he made. You were sure he could make you come again with just that look in his eyes, teasing and loving, slightly amused, but very arrogant.

It’s like he knew what you were thinking and was thinking it too.

He leaned down to kiss you, softly sucking on your bottom lip. You instantly reached up to thread your fingers through his hair, kissing him with as much passion as he poured into you. His fingers trailed up the inside of your thighs and he groaned softly, prying your legs open to shove his cum inside you.

He pulled away from your lips and got down onto his knees to kiss your pelvis, then your thighs, and you opened your legs to give him room. He fingered you slowly and you clung to his hair and onto the table to remain steady, whimpering when he sucked your sensitive clit into his mouth.

“Fuck, Sam,” you whispered, letting him angle your hips to shove his tongue into your pussy. He licked the mixture of your cum with a moan of satisfaction while his nose teased your clit. You could feel the slow and painful build of another orgasm as your pussy stretched around his tongue.

Unfortunately, he stood up and took your face in his hands to kiss you. You moaned in surprise, submissively allowing him to push his tongue into you. You tasted your release and his as soon as he did and your mouth watered. He tilted your head back, his tongue invading and exploring your warm mouth until the taste of the two of you had diminished.

He pulled away with a heavy breath and smiled down at you, watching your eyes flutter open. “Let’s get ready for bed,” he suggested, pushing strands of your hair away from your face. You licked your lips, same as him, and nodded, but first wrapped your arms around his waist.

“I’m gonna shower…” You murmured, pulling away from the embrace. He nodded and chewed on his lip. “Meet you in my room?” You beamed up at him and slowly pulled away, walking in the direction of the restroom.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll wait for you,” he smiled, reaching out for your arm to tug you back into him and leaning down to peck your lips. You laughed into the kiss and he finally let you go.

He picked up your clothes from the floor and started making his way to your room, putting on his clothes and putting yours in the hamper. He cleaned himself up before starting to prepare your stuff. Then, he waited for you in your bedroom with the lights on, preparing your bed, some clean clothes for you to sleep in, and even brought you a water bottle in case you needed it.

You returned quietly, flushed from the heat of your shower, wrapped only in a towel. He smiled at you when you called his name softly and got up from the bed to kiss you again. He admired you with a soft expression on his face when he pulled away. Without makeup, you still looked beautiful.

“I got everything ready for you, then we can do whatever you want,” he told you, tugging the towel out of its place. You laughed softly, letting him steal it from you so you could get changed.

“Thanks, Sam, I really appreciate it.” You got changed and looked around your room out of habit, boredly taking in your space to make sure you could actually relax. But you noticed that your books were slanted and fallen over to the side, one of your books was missing.

You stared at it thoughtfully, pulling your top over your head, trying to retrace your steps of the day for when you had misplaced it. When nothing came to mind, you asked, “did I put my book somewhere else?”

Sam’s jaw clenched and he froze, looking past you and at the shelf. He internally facepalmed and then shrugged, his heart racing nervously. “Um…” he started, then shifted, moving his hair out of his face. “Yeah, I don’t know, maybe,” he mumbled, averting his gaze and rubbing the back of his neck.

Your brow rose at his suddenly strange behaviour, but you thought nothing of it at first. You hummed thoughtfully and made your way back to Sam, who was still acting shifty, even as he handed you a water bottle. You took it silently and narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously. He didn’t look at you at first, not when you opened the bottle slowly, or when you took a few gulps of it.

He pretended to busy himself with the sheets, lifting them up for you to sleep, but you knew now. He had something to do with it. So you grabbed his face, forcing him to look at you, and said, “Sam, I know you know.”

He broke easily, with a shy laugh. Instead of continuing to deny it, he looked down at his hands and nodded, “fine. Okay? I was curious about why you like them so much and I wanted to know what about them kept you excited… so I read a few chapters, and I wanted to try some stuff out… which you ended up liking,” he said the last part flirtatiously and your mouth dropped open in surprise.

You closed it and laughed, then pulled his face in for a kiss. He quickly dominated you, sucking on your tongue, making your breath hitch. You tugged at his hair and slid into his lap when he grabbed your hips and tugged you forward.

You pulled away from Sam’s sinful mouth, curiously and breathlessly asking, “you only read a few chapters?” He dove back in for a kiss and bit your lip sensually. He hummed a yes and then released your lip from between his teeth.

“Why?” He asked, a smug smirk on his face.

“You know why, there’s a lot more I thought was hot while imagining you doing it to me,” you replied shamelessly. He snorted and looked up thoughtfully, his thumbs sliding over the waistband of your underwear at the same time.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up slightly to make you fall onto the bed so you were laying on your back beneath his firm body. You puffed out a breath of surprise and smiled at him brightly.

“I should go get the book then.” He kissed your flushed cheek, then added, “I should consider reading all your favourite books. Don’t you agree?”

dean winchester version —> livin in you

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[murdrdocs]

fever all through the night

description. you can only dance like this against JOHNNY CASTLE for so long without doing something about it.

includes. dirty dancing typical horny dancing, oral (f receiving), hints of pleasure dom johnny

a/n: not a full fic, not a drabble, but a secret third thing. title from fever (peggy lee vers. i think). barely edited. for those two anons.

wc: 1.2k+

even though you've been away for a while, a self imposed exile with hopes of ridding your feelings, the muggy shed still feels the most like home out of this entire camp.

if the music wasn't so loud, you would have been able to hear the sound of your heels clicking against the wooden floor with each step you took. but the records were hot tonight, nearly too loud for you to hear your partner speaking in your ear. nearly is the key word, as his voice carries more than you could handle.

he doesn't need to speak though, especially when his words become redundant whenever his hand slinks around your waist and he pulls you to him, back to front. with him, you move together easily. a bond formed between you two that doesn't exist elsewhere is what keeps you together, it's what sends his hips right and yours follow. it's nice, it's practiced, but it's lacking something, something that you'll never have with him, and something you never want to have with him.

because you want it with him.

johnny's eyes stare at you from across the room as he leads penny in a swoop that briefly gets her out of your field of vision. it's just a few seconds, no more than a couple really, but in that time frame his one look tells you: next dance.

it's not question, it's not up for debate, and even if it were, you don't think you would go against him.

that's the thing about you and johnny. you could pretend to not like him as much as you wanted. you could avoid this shed and your closest friends to try and push down your feelings for him. but you always ended up right where you belong, pressed up against him as a slower, more sensual song roars throughout the small space.

with johnny, there's a discordance to the way you move together. his hips move right, and yours hesitate before moving left. not because he's an incompetent leader, but because you don't want to follow. you resist and resist and resist, because it gets him here. flaring his nostrils and glaring down at you, shaking the sweat-soaked strands of chestnut out of his face and moving so close that the tip of his nose bumps against yours.

"stop," he tells you. he doesn't have to yell over the music, not only because of his vicinity but because you know what his line is. he didn't even need to say it. this right here is a routine in and of itself, one you know as well as you can merengue.

you don't say anything. your lips tug up and your hands dangle from his neck. his arm around your waist hooks you tighter, he pulls you closer, he moves you both slower. and you can feel so much.

the muscles of his thigh confined in his slacks pressing against your bare leg under your dress. the taunt feeling of his abs pressed against your abdomen. his cock, poorly concealed beneath the unforgiving material of his pants, probing at your hip.

in a swift movement he sinks down, palms gliding along your body and taking in copious amounts of handfuls. his lips brush against your knee, and you assume it to be accidental. nothing but a light touch that wasn't intended to make your head spin, but it does. that's until he keeps his lips there, sticks his tongue out just enough, and glides back up with a warm and wet patch in his wake. your dress has already been ridden up from your grinding, which gives johnny easy access to slip his head underneath and continue his path until he settles on the edge of your bottoms, right beside where you want him most.

it really isn't any surprise when the song ends and johnny has your hand in his, pulling you away from the crowd which cheers as another song—a crowd favorite as it appears—gears up.

outside, the weather isn't much better. hot in the same ways the shed were, but the breeze gently blowing across your stripped body is severely appreciated. you need as much cold as you could get right now, or else you might collapse and ruin a moment that has finally came to fruition.

johnny is in a position similar to before—kneeled in front of you, his head beneath your dress, but nothing is stopping him now. under the light fabric, you're bare. above it too. the straps of your dress have been long pulled down by johnny's overeager hands, even if you don't understand why it's necessary for your tits to greet the night. not when his eyes and hands and lips are all down south.

his lips part as his tongue works you in ways you wouldn't have expected from him. johnny is messy. he licks and slurps and sometimes pulls back to spit on your cunt, only to flatten his tongue out and clean up his work. through the wall pressing against your back you can hear another track playing, one of your personal favorites, and you almost whine for johnny to hurry up and make you cum so you can go back inside. almost.

johnny moves a little lower, he throws your leg over his shoulder, and he sticks his rounded tongue into your entrance and jesus, how could you ever even consider rushing an artist when he's so devoted to his craft?

you lift your dress with one hand, keeping it bunched against your waist while your other hand pushes through johnny's hair. he's let it grow out a bit, and you don't fail to notice how it's the perfect length for this. your fingers easily curl around the strands and you pull him closer to you, moaning when his nose bumps against your clit just right. you expect him to chastise you for trying to control him, just like he did earlier in the night. but he doesn't do anything other than wrap his hand around the knee that dangles on his shoulder and continue his work with more vigor, if even possible.

it doesn't take much longer for you to cum. not when you've been specifically holding out in hopes that something even similar to this, with him and only him, would happen this summer. when you do cum, your legs shaking and the heel of your foot digging into the center of johnny's back, he helps you through it. he leads you, just the same as he does when you're dancing together. he doesn't stop and just when you think he won't stop at all, he does.

he stands, stares at you long enough for you to notice the glisten on his pretty lips and along his chin, and then he kisses you. his lips move along your mouth the same way they did on your cunt.

he presses his tongue into your mouth, gliding it along yours, letting you taste yourself and the flavor isn't unenjoyable when it's coming from him. he pulls back, his nose bumping against yours again as you breathe together.

he gears up to say something, probably something smug if the look in his eye is any indicator, but he's interrupted by the clear sound of music and two voices, one distinct and the other unrecognizable.

johnny presses his lips to yours one final time, this kiss much softer and leaving more to the imagination, and then he realigns your underwear, pulls your dress down, and puts his hand in yours.

"c'mon." he pulls you in the opposite direction of the shed.

[yanderecrazysie]

Soulmate Song (Part 2) Yandere Bakugou

Requested on my Quotev! This turned out baaad but whatever.

Part 1: here

Title: Soulmate Song (Part 2)

Pairings: Yandere! Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, soulmate AU, spoiler for Bakugou’s hero name, swearing

Summary: Your soulmate is not exactly what you pictured.

Your laughter mixed with the sound of the ocean crashing against the shore as you walked away. Bakugou clenched his fists and narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t used to being ignored- much less by his soulmate.

He’d never cared about having a soulmate before. He had always scoffed at the idea of fate picking out some girl for him. But now that he knew you existed, that you had existed out here without him for so long, it made him angry as hell.

You were weak. But that wasn’t really your fault, was it? You weren’t blessed with a strong quirk like him (he’d checked the quirk registries, your quirk was laughably weak) and you hadn’t trained tirelessly to become a hero like he had. 

And the fact that you were weak just made him want to protect you all the more.

He strode across the beach towards you, hands shoved in his pockets. Maybe if he appeared casual, you wouldn’t be frightened like he knew you would be. Someone as weak as you was surely as jumpy as a mouse.

Before he could catch up to you, however, you spun around and crossed your arms over your chest, fixing him with a furious glare, “What do you want?” 

So you were fiery, huh? He liked it.

His lips curled into a smirk, “What do I want? My soulmate of course.”

Your friend gave you a look of surprise, leaning in to whisper, “Is he your soulmate?”

“You didn’t tell your friend?” Bakugou laughed, somewhat bitterly. He had kind of expected- maybe hoped- that you had told everyone you knew about your connection to a guy as famous as him.

You shrugged, “It didn’t seem important.”

Rage roared in Bakugou’s chest and he gritted his teeth. It wasn’t important? He wasn’t important. How dare you- weak, helpless, stupid you- say something so offensive?

You looked him dead in the eyes and said, “Soulmate or not, I don’t owe you a damn thing.”

A shadow fell over Bakugou’s ruby eyes as he lowered his head for a moment, trying to force himself to stay calm. He stepped closer, half-snarling, “You don’t even know me. I could keep you safe. Someone like you’s bound to get into trouble.”

“Please,” you rolled your eyes, “I’ve been taking care of myself just fine without you.”

“Someone with a healing quirk? Like you?” Bakugou lifted his head to grin at you, “What’re you gonna do when the bad guys come after you? Make them feel better?”

He had hit a sore spot. You came storming up to him, stabbing your finger into his chest, “Listen here, hero, I don’t give a fuck about you so just stay the fuck away from me. We aren’t soulmates, not anymore. I reject our bond.”

Pain stabbed through Bakugou’s chest and it had nothing to do with your poking and all to do with the bond between you both. Rejecting a bond was very rare and very painful, and yet, here you were, attempting to put him through that.

Your friend gasped softly and hurriedly said, “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure,” you snapped.

Bakugou’s expression suddenly changed and he nodded, “Alright, we’ll see how that works out for you. Pretty soon, you’ll be screaming for my help.”

—----------------------------------------

When you arrived home, your door was wide open. The dark entryway seemed ominous instead of welcoming. You reached for your phone immediately and dialed 1-1-0. 

“What’s your emergency?” A calm, female voice asked you on the other line.

“Hi, um, I think my house has been robbed. The door’s wide open and I’m scared to go inside,” you said, eyes trained on your doorway, looking for movement.

“What’s the address?” The emergency worker asked.

You gave her your address and there was a long pause. Finally, she said, “I’ll send a hero to your location.”

A chill ran down your spine, “Actually, could you send the police instead?”

“No, I’ve been told to send a hero to your location,” she replied.

“Which hero?” You asked, slight panic edging into your voice. You had a very bad feeling about this suddenly.

Click. The line went dead. She had hung up on you.

“Aren’t they supposed to stay on the line until the hero gets there?” You wondered wearily.

Movement caught your eye, and you watched as a figure approached the doorway, emerging from the darkness. Your heart plummeted to the pits of your stomach as Bakugou came into the light.

“Oh, honey,” Bakugou’s voice dripped with sarcasm and victory, “A robber? In your house? That’s just a shame.”

He held out a hand to you and, even though he was across the street, you stumbled backwards, trying to put even more distance between the two of you. He snickered at your frightened response, eyes swirling with excitement.

“Why don’t you come inside?” Bakugou suggested. 

“I promise I won’t bite.”

[keehomania]

teotw (세상의 끝) — jeon jungkook (전정국)

✧.* 18+

when the world ended, it wasn’t with the thunderous roar of wars or the blinding light of an angry sun; it was with a whisper—a collective sigh of resignation that echoed across the hollowed bones of cities, once vibrant and teeming with life. the sky, once a canvas of blues and radiant golds, faded into an endless stretch of ashen gray, swallowing the horizon in a blanket of melancholy. nature, sensing the final breath of humanity, ceased its symphony. the winds grew still, no longer carrying the songs of birds or the rustle of leaves but instead murmuring secrets of the past, stories of a world that had forgotten how to live.

the oceans, once wild and untamed, receded in quiet mourning, their waves lapping at the shores like a lover’s farewell, leaving behind only the memories of their once-mighty tides. the forests, now shadows of their former selves, stood like silent sentinels, their branches brittle and bare, reaching out as if to grasp the last remnants of a fading existence. the air was thick with the scent of decay, not of flesh, but of dreams, hopes, and the indomitable spirit that once drove humanity forward.

cities, grand monuments to human achievement, crumbled under the weight of their own hubris. skyscrapers, once towering symbols of progress, lay twisted and broken, their glassy facades shattered, reflecting a sky that no longer held any promise. streets, once alive with the pulse of civilization, were now abandoned corridors of desolation, where the ghosts of the past wandered aimlessly, searching for a future that would never come.

and in that silence—that all-encompassing stillness—there was no one left to mourn, no voices to cry out in anguish, no souls to seek redemption. the world had ended not with a bang, but with the quiet acceptance of inevitability, a final chapter in a story that had been written long ago. all that remained was the echo of what once was, a faint, lingering trace of a world that had, for a time, dared to believe in tomorrow.

when the world ended, it wasn’t the end at all, but the beginning of an eternal quiet, where the whispers of a forgotten age danced on the winds of oblivion, carrying with them the tales of a time when the world was full of light, love, and the promise of forever. when the world ended, you didn't even know of it. you didn't know of the wreckage, the losses, the cries of anguish.

when you awoke, it wasn’t to the soft hum of machinery or the gentle murmurs of nurses tending to their patients. it wasn’t to the warmth of sunlight filtering through thin hospital curtains or the comforting sound of your sister’s voice, softly reading you a book you couldn’t remember the title of. no, you awoke to a silence so profound, so unnatural, that it wrapped around you like a suffocating shroud. your eyes fluttered open, heavy with the weight of a month-long sleep, and for a moment, you wondered if you had woken up at all or if this was some dark, twisted dream.

the room around you was eerily still, the once-familiar beep of the heart monitor conspicuously absent. the sterile scent of disinfectant was replaced by an unfamiliar, almost metallic tang that clung to the back of your throat. you blinked, trying to clear the fog from your mind, but the darkness lingered, oppressive and unforgiving. you called out, your voice hoarse and cracked from disuse, a weak “hello?” that barely reached the corners of the room. there was no answer, not from the doctors, not from the nurses, not from anyone. panic fluttered in your chest, but you pushed it down, forcing yourself to sit up, your muscles protesting with a sharp ache that radiated through your entire body.

you moved slowly, every motion a battle against the weakness that threatened to pull you back into unconsciousness. swinging your legs over the side of the bed, you hesitated, the cold tile floor unwelcoming beneath your bare feet. you stood on shaky legs, the room tilting dangerously as you clutched at the bed’s railing for support. you had to find someone—anyone. the halls were your next goal, just outside the room. there, you told yourself, there would be answers.

but the hallway, once loud with activity, was a void of darkness and silence. you reached for the light switch by the door, but nothing happened. your breath quickened as you stepped out into the corridor, your eyes struggling to adjust to the dim light that seemed to seep in from somewhere far, far away. the air was thick, heavy with a sense of abandonment that made your skin crawl. you began to walk, each step echoing off the walls, the sound unnervingly loud in the stillness. you peeked into the rooms as you passed, expecting to find patients sleeping soundly or perhaps a nurse bustling about. but every room was empty, the beds made, equipment untouched, as if everyone had simply vanished.

it was as though time had frozen, leaving you the only soul moving through this ghostly space. the deeper you went into the hospital, the more your unease grew. the halls, once so familiar, now felt like a labyrinth designed to ensnare you in its endless emptiness. and then you saw it.

the exit doors loomed ahead, their glass panes reflecting the faint, gray light from outside. but it wasn’t the light that caught your attention. it was the words scrawled across the doors, crude and unsettling, in a dried crimson that made your stomach turn. “may god help us all,” the letters cried out, jagged and desperate. your hands trembled as you reached out to touch the glass, feeling the dried substance beneath your fingertips. it was real—too real.

with your heart pounding against your ribs, you pushed through the doors, bracing yourself for the world outside. but nothing could have prepared you for what awaited. the street, once teeming with life, was desolate, a graveyard of twisted metal and charred remnants. no cars drove by, no people walked the sidewalks. there was only the ghostly silence of a world long forgotten. ash rained from the sky, mixing with the smoke that billowed from what remained of the trees, their once-green leaves reduced to smoldering embers. buildings, or what was left of them, leaned precariously, their foundations crumbled into dust. the sky, an ominous shade of gray, pressed down on you, darker and more foreboding than you could ever remember.

the realization hit you like a physical blow, stealing the breath from your lungs. you were alone. truly, terrifyingly alone. the world you had known was gone, erased in an instant while you had been locked in the oblivion of your own mind. panic surged, rising like bile in your throat as you stumbled back, desperate to find something—anything—that could explain what had happened. but there was nothing. only the ruins of a world that had ended while you slept.

your legs gave out beneath you, and you crumpled to the ground, your hands clutching at the broken earth as your heart raced uncontrollably. tears blurred your vision as your mind struggled to comprehend the enormity of it all, the finality. what had happened? how could everything just end? the questions spun in your mind, but there were no answers, only the overwhelming silence of a world that no longer cared.

you stood there, your breath coming in ragged gasps as the realization settled in, heavier than the thick air that clung to you. your mind was a tangled mess, struggling to find a thread of logic in the chaos that surrounded you. what had happened? how could everything you knew—everything you loved—disappear so completely? you tried to piece it together, tried to remember anything that might explain the desolation, but your thoughts were sluggish, weighed down by the lingering haze of your coma. the dull throb in your head reminded you of how desperately you could’ve killed for an advil, but there was no time for that. there was nothing, really. all you could do was run.

so you did. your legs, still weak and unsteady, carried you through the streets, though every step felt like a battle. the world was a blur as you sprinted past, your eyes scanning the devastation in a desperate search for something familiar, something that made sense. but the deeper you went, the clearer it became—nothing was the same. there were cars, yes, but they were lifeless, their hoods flattened as if they’d been crushed by some immense force, their windows shattered, spilling glass like jagged tears onto the pavement.

houses that once lined these streets, places you’d walked past a thousand times, were torn apart, reduced to piles of splintered wood and crumbling brick. the trees, the ones that had stood tall and proud, casting shade on your summer walks, were now nothing more than charred skeletons, their blackened branches clawing at the smoke-filled sky. not even the birds could bring themselves to chirp in this wasteland. there was no life, no movement, only the eerie silence that pressed down on you from all sides, suffocating in its finality.

you kept running, your breaths coming out in harsh, uneven bursts as your heart pounded relentlessly in your chest. you needed to find them. you needed to see them—to prove that they were still there, waiting for you. your house wasn’t far, just a few more streets, and then everything would be okay. you clung to that thought as if it were a lifeline, letting it pull you through the thick fog of disbelief that clouded your mind.

but when you reached the spot where your house should’ve been, the breath was stolen from your lungs as if you’d been punched in the gut. you stopped dead in your tracks, your legs suddenly unable to carry you any further. your heart plummeted, your blood running cold as you took in the sight before you. or rather, the lack of sight. there was nothing. no car parked in the driveway where it always was. no familiar structure with its faded paint and crooked shutters that you’d always meant to fix. no house. no home. just an empty space where everything you’d known had once stood. it was as if the ground had opened up and swallowed it whole, leaving behind nothing but emptiness. the earth beneath you was torn and jagged, as if some great force had ripped it apart, and in its place, there was only desolation.

your knees buckled, sending you crashing to the ground. the pain that shot through your legs was distant, a mere echo compared to the agony tearing through your chest. you tried to deny it, tried to force yourself to believe that this was some horrible dream, that you would wake up in your bed, surrounded by the warmth of your family’s love. but the reality was stark and undeniable, pressing down on you like the weight of the sky itself. there was no car. no house. and most terrifyingly—no family.

“mom?” you called out, your voice trembling, barely more than a whisper. Then louder, “dad? hera?”

there was no answer, only the hollow sound of your voice bouncing back at you from the wreckage. you pushed yourself up, staggering towards the spot where the front door should’ve been, where your mother would’ve been waiting to greet you with a smile. but there was nothing. you tore at the dirt with your hands, desperate to find something—anything—that would tell you this wasn’t real. but your fingers found only dirt and ash, the remnants of a world that had been reduced to nothingness.

you screamed then, a broken, guttural sound that ripped from your throat, filling the emptiness around you. it was a scream born of pure despair, of a pain so deep it threatened to consume you whole. but there was no one to hear it, no one to answer your cries. the world had ended, and it had taken everything you loved with it.

you lay there on the cold, unforgiving ground, the weight of your despair threatening to drag you down into an abyss you feared you’d never crawl out of. but something inside you—some deep, primal instinct—refused to let go. you couldn’t stay here, couldn’t let yourself be swallowed by the overwhelming grief and fear that gnawed at your insides. you had to survive.

as you forced yourself to take deep, steadying breaths, the sobs that wracked your body began to subside, leaving behind a hollow ache in your chest. the world had ended, that much was clear. you didn’t know how or why, and you didn’t know who—if anyone—had survived. but the cause no longer mattered. the effect was all that remained, a bleak reality that you had no choice but to face. the end had come, and you were still here, standing in its aftermath.

you wiped the tears from your eyes with the back of your hand, your fingers smearing dirt across your cheeks. there would be time to grieve later—if there was ever going to be a “later.” for now, you had to pull yourself together, had to force your mind to focus on the one thing that mattered: survival. you needed a plan, something to cling to, a small thread of hope that maybe, just maybe, someone else was out there, doing the same. you took one last, lingering look at the remnants of what had once been your home, your sanctuary. the memories that flashed through your mind were almost too painful to bear, but you pushed them down, burying them deep inside. you couldn’t afford to dwell on what was lost. not now.

the sky above was a dull, bleak gray, casting a muted light over the landscape. it was the only source of illumination, and you knew that when night fell, the world would be plunged into total darkness. the streetlights that had once lined your neighborhood were now twisted metal, their bulbs shattered, their posts collapsed. you could only imagine that the power plants had long since run out of fuel, and any solar panels that might have once gathered energy were likely coated in a thick layer of dust and debris. maybe, just maybe, a hydroelectric station somewhere was still running, its turbines spinning in the dark, keeping some small part of the world alive. but you couldn’t count on that. you had to prepare for the worst.

pushing yourself up from the ground, you forced your legs to move, taking one step, and then another. it felt as if every muscle in your body was screaming in protest, but you ignored the pain. you had to keep going. you needed supplies, something to get you through the coming days—weeks?—whatever it would take to survive.

the neighborhood you’d grown up in was unrecognizable. as you walked, your eyes scanned the destruction around you, trying to make sense of it all. houses that had once stood tall and proud were now reduced to piles of rubble, their walls crumbled, their roofs caved in. cars, once symbols of freedom and mobility, were nothing more than dented, broken shells, their windshields smashed, their frames twisted beyond repair. the street poles, once beacons of light and order, had collided with the ground, their remains scattered like fallen giants. and yet, there were no bodies. no signs of life—or death. the absence of people, of any living thing, sent a chill down your spine, making your skin crawl. what could have caused this? where had everyone gone? the questions pounded in your head, but you had no answers. only the silence, thick and oppressive, followed you as you walked.

in the distance, you spotted a store—a small grocery shop you’d frequented countless times with your sister. the sight of it sent a wave of nostalgia crashing over you, memories of those carefree days when the world was whole and you were blissfully ignorant of what was to come. you remembered sneaking in with your sister, buying cigarettes and energy drinks, indulging in everything you weren’t supposed to have. the chime of the bell above the door had always greeted you, a cheerful sound that had made you feel mischievous and alive.

but as you approached the store, you knew there would be no bell this time. the windows were shattered, shards of glass glittering on the pavement, and the door hung on its hinges, barely clinging to the frame. you pushed it open, the movement slow and tentative, half-expecting something—or someone—to jump out at you. but there was nothing. just the echo of your footsteps on the cracked tile floor.

the interior of the store was almost untouched, the shelves still stacked with supplies, just as you remembered them. but the sight didn’t bring you comfort. Instead, it unnerved you. everything was in place, just as it had been before—except for the people. the lack of any sign of life was more terrifying than if you’d found the place ransacked and empty.

you swallowed the lump in your throat and began to gather what you needed. a sturdy bag, first. then a flashlight and batteries—your lifeline when the world plunged into darkness. water, food, anything that would keep you going for the days ahead. your hands moved with a mechanical precision, your mind numb as you tried to focus on the task at hand, pushing aside the fear that threatened to paralyze you.

as you moved through the store, you paid careful attention to the creaky ceiling above, the pitch-black corners where the light didn’t reach. the silence pressed down on you, every small sound amplified in the emptiness. you grabbed a lighter, matches—anything that could start a fire when the nights grew cold. you were preparing for the worst, trying to think ahead, but it was hard to see beyond the next few minutes, let alone days.

you realized you’d need more supplies, especially if you were going to survive for any length of time. a pharmacy would be your next stop. you’d need medicine, bandages, anything that could help in case of injury. but before you left the store, your eyes landed on a familiar sight—cigarettes. they were just sitting there, tucked away on a high shelf, untouched, as if waiting for you.

you reached up and grabbed a pack, turning it over in your hands. the weight of it brought back memories, of sneaking behind the store with your sister, laughing as you shared one, the taste of forbidden freedom on your lips. you hesitated for a moment, the nostalgia flooding you, bringing with it a wave of bittersweet emotion. and then you slipped the pack into your bag, a small piece of the past to hold onto in a world that had left you with nothing.

with the bag slung over your shoulder, you took one last look around the store, the familiar layout now foreign in its stillness. you didn’t know what lay ahead, but you knew you couldn’t stay here. there was no safety in the ruins of the past, no comfort in the empty aisles. you had to keep moving, had to keep surviving. the world had ended, but you were still there, and as long as you had breath in your lungs, you would fight to stay alive.

your breath came out in ragged gasps, each one a struggle against the tightness in your chest as you moved through the desolate streets. the weight of the bag slung over your shoulder was a constant reminder of the grim reality you were now living in. every step you took felt heavy, not just from exhaustion, but from the crushing weight of everything you had lost—or never had the chance to say goodbye to.

as you walked, your hands trembled uncontrollably, not just from the cold or the shock that had settled deep in your bones, but from the overwhelming sense of fear and hopelessness that clung to you like a shroud. you reached into the bag, pulling out the pack of cigarettes you’d taken from the store. your fingers fumbled with the lighter as you brought it to your lips, the flame flickering before catching the tip of the cigarette. the familiar, acrid scent filled the air as you inhaled deeply, the smoke curling into your lungs and spreading a warmth that felt so out of place in this cold, dead world. but that warmth was nothing more than a cruel mockery, a fleeting comfort in the face of an unbearable reality. as you exhaled, the smoke billowed out in front of you, curling into the empty air, dissipating into nothingness—just like everything you had ever known.

and then, it hit you all at once—the full force of your grief. it crashed over you like a tidal wave, pulling you under, threatening to drown you in its depths. your vision blurred, the world around you dissolving into a swirl of tears and smoke. you stumbled, your feet dragging along the cracked pavement, as sobs wracked your body. the cigarette hung limply from your lips as your breath hitched, the tears turning into streaks of sorrow that etched themselves into your skin, each one carrying a piece of the life you had lost.

you didn’t know exactly what you were grieving—was it the life you had before you fell into that coma? or was it the life you had woken up to, a life that had ended before you even had a chance to live it? perhaps it was both. perhaps it was the loss of the world you had known, the world that had crumbled into dust and ashes while you lay in that hospital bed, unaware, untouched by the horrors that had unfolded.

you wished, with every fiber of your being, that the world had ended and taken you with it. it would have been easier that way—easier than facing this bleak, empty existence where the only sounds were the echoes of your own despair. but no matter how much you wished for it, the world had not taken you. it had left you behind, abandoned in the ruins of what once was, forced to navigate the shattered remnants of a life that no longer existed.

the pharmacy loomed in the distance, its windows shattered just like the store you had come from. there was no bell to greet you as you pushed open the door, no sense of nostalgia to soften the blow. the aisles were eerily quiet, the fluorescent lights flickering dimly overhead, casting long, twisted shadows across the floor.

you moved through the pharmacy like a ghost, your hands moving on autopilot as you gathered what you needed—bandages, medicine, rubbing alcohol, gauze. the mundane nature of it all was almost surreal, as if you were simply running errands on an ordinary day. but the weight in your chest reminded you that nothing about this was ordinary. the very fact that you were there, loading up on supplies to survive in a world that had ended, made your chest tighten with a fresh wave of panic.

you didn’t linger in the pharmacy, not when every creak and groan of the building made your skin crawl. the door swung shut behind you as you stepped back into the cold, gray light of the outside world. you took one last drag of the cigarette before stubbing it out on the pavement, watching as the ember died out, leaving nothing but ash and the bitter taste of smoke on your tongue.

but as you walked away from the pharmacy, a new realization dawned on you—a realization that made your blood run cold and your heart beat faster with dread. you had nothing to defend yourself with. not even a kitchen knife. you had been so focused on finding food and medicine that you hadn’t thought about the dangers that might be lurking out there, waiting for you. you didn’t know what exactly you needed to defend yourself against, but your mind conjured up images that made your stomach churn—animals, hungry and rabid, prowling the streets in search of food, their instincts driving them to hunt, just as yours were driving you to survive. and there could be worse things out there—things you couldn’t even begin to imagine.

the thought of facing whatever dangers lay ahead without a weapon sent a fresh wave of fear coursing through you, but you knew you couldn’t afford to let that fear paralyze you. you needed to find something—anything—that could give you a fighting chance. but the problem was, the closest store that sold weapons wasn’t in busan. it was in seoul. you stopped in your tracks, the enormity of what lay ahead of you sinking in. seoul was far—too far. the journey would be long and dangerous, and you had no idea what you would find when you got there. but you had no other choice. if you wanted to survive, you had to go.

the road stretched out before you like a never-ending nightmare, each step a reminder of the bleak reality you were now forced to confront. there were no trains to take, no cars to drive; the underground systems that once thrummed with life had long since flooded, their pumps abandoned and left to the mercy of nature’s relentless tide. walking was your only option, the thought of it a crushing weight on your already heavy heart. you had no idea how long it would take to reach seoul on foot, no concept of the obstacles that lay ahead, but you knew you couldn’t stay in that place—that neighborhood that had become a graveyard of memories and lost hope. so, with nothing more than a deep breath and the resolve to keep moving, you set off, leaving behind the remnants of what you once called home.

the sun hung low in the sky, a weak and pale imitation of its former self, casting long shadows across the cracked pavement. the air was thick with dust, every breath a struggle against the dryness that coated your throat and lungs. you reached into your bag, pulling out a bottle of water, the cool liquid easing the burn in your throat as you sipped it slowly. you splashed some onto your face, washing away the sticky, salty residue of your tears, trying to cleanse yourself of the sorrow that clung to you like a second skin. but no amount of it could wash away the weight of what you had seen, what you had lost.

as you continued walking, the landscape began to change. the crumbling buildings gave way to open fields, the asphalt turning to dirt beneath your feet. and then, in the distance, you saw it—a farm, its silhouette etched against the horizon like a beacon of hope. your heart leapt in your chest, the thought that maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance that you wouldn’t have to walk all the way to seoul. if the farm had survived, perhaps there would be something there, something to ease your journey, to make this unbearable task just a little bit easier.

fueled by a sudden surge of hope, you broke into a run, the bottle of water forgotten as you sprinted toward the farm. the sight of it grew clearer with each step—the fields, the pens, the barn standing tall in the distance. but as you drew closer, the hope that had burned so brightly in your chest began to flicker and fade, replaced by a growing sense of dread.

the first thing you saw were the sheep—dozens of them, their bodies lying lifeless in their pen, their wool matted with blood and dirt. flies buzzed around them, the air thick with the stench of decay. your stomach churned, the bile rising in your throat as you forced yourself to look away. but there was no escaping the sight—the pigs, the goats, all of them dead, their bodies twisted in unnatural poses, their eyes staring blankly into the void.

you had to stop, bending over with your hands on your knees as you fought to keep the contents of your stomach where they belonged. the smell was overwhelming, a sickening combination of rotting flesh and the sharp tang of blood. you took deep breaths, forcing the nausea down, forcing yourself to keep moving. you couldn’t afford to stop now—not when you had come so far. and then, just as you were about to give up, you heard it—the sound that made your heart skip a beat, a sound so out of place in this world of death and decay that you almost didn’t believe it. the cows. they were alive, their low, mournful moos carrying across the field, a desperate plea for help that tugged at your heartstrings.

you ran toward the barn, your feet pounding against the dirt as you pushed through the gates, sprinting toward the sound. you didn’t even stop to think, your only focus on getting to them, on finding some sign of life in this dead world. the barn doors creaked as you pushed them open, the hinges groaning under the weight of years of neglect. but the sight that greeted you inside was not one of hope. it was a scene that would be etched into your memory forever, a sight that made your stomach lurch and your heart freeze in your chest.

a man sat in a chair in the middle of the barn, his body slumped forward, his head resting on the head of the little girl in his lap. they were both dead, their eyes closed, their faces peaceful in a way that belied the horror of their final moments. blood had dried on their clothes, the dark stains a vivid contrast against the pale skin of the girl. at the man’s feet lay a shotgun, its barrel still warm from the final act that had ended both of their lives.

you stood frozen, your breath caught in your throat, unable to move, unable to process the scene before you. it was only when the tears began to fall that you realized you were crying, the sobs tearing from your chest in a torrent of grief and guilt. you stumbled forward, collapsing to your knees in front of them, the weight of their deaths pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket. you didn’t know the man, you didn’t know his daughter, but that didn’t matter. in that moment, they were all you had—all you had left in this empty, dead world. you reached out, your hand trembling as you brushed a lock of hair from the girl’s face, whispering apologies through your tears. she was so small, so innocent, and she had deserved none of this. neither of them had.

the man had chosen the easy way out, sparing his daughter from the horrors that awaited her in the new world. you could only hope that he had been quick, that he had been merciful, that she had felt no pain. but the sight of them, sitting there in that barn, was a cruel reminder of the reality you were now living in. there was no easy way out for you—not yet, not now. you forced yourself to your feet, the weight of the shotgun in your hands a grim reminder of what you had to do. you couldn’t leave it behind, not when it was the only thing that could keep you safe, the only thing that could give you a fighting chance in this world. but the thought of taking it, of holding the weapon that had ended their lives, made your skin crawl.

with one last, tearful apology, you turned and left the barn, the shotgun clutched tightly in your hands. the air outside was cold, the sky a dull gray, the sun barely a sliver on the horizon. and then, just as you were about to give up hope, you heard it—a sound that made your heart leap in your chest. a neigh, clear and strong, as if calling out to you.

you spun around, your eyes scanning the fields until you saw them—three horses, their bodies thin and frail, their ribs visible beneath their coats. they were desperate, hungry, on the brink of starvation, but they were alive. the sight of them filled you with a renewed sense of hope, a glimmer of something you had thought long lost. without a second thought, you ran to them, grabbing handfuls of hay from the bales stacked against the barn, easing the food to them one by one. their eyes were wide, their movements frantic as they devoured the hay, their hunger evident in every bite. you fed them until the last bit of hay was gone, the sound of their chewing the only thing breaking the silence of the farm.

once they were fed, you approached the largest of the three, your hand trembling as you reached out to stroke its neck.the horse nickered softly, its breath warm against your skin, and you knew in that moment that walking was no longer your only option. you saddled up, the shotgun strapped to your back, knowing that this was your best chance, your only chance, to make it to seoul. with one last look at the farm—the barn, the fields, the lifeless bodies of the animals—you urged the horse forward, its hooves clattering against the dirt as you set off on the long journey ahead.

the journey to seoul was long and grueling, the landscape around you gradually shifting as the hours passed. at first, the road was lined with the remnants of suburbia—houses in various states of disrepair, some still standing, others reduced to rubble. trees, once tall and full of life, now stood as charred skeletons, their branches twisted and broken. cars littered the streets, their windows shattered, hoods crumpled like discarded cans. the silence was deafening, a stark contrast to the once-bustling streets you remembered. there was no sound but the rhythmic clop of the horse's hooves against the pavement, a lonely echo that reverberated through the empty world.

as you rode, the sun began its slow descent, casting long shadows that stretched across the road like grasping fingers. the air grew cooler, the oppressive heat of the day giving way to a chilly breeze that sent shivers down your spine. you pulled your jacket tighter around you, the fabric rough and comforting against your skin, and glanced down at the horse beneath you. its breathing was steady but labored, its pace slowing as exhaustion set in. you felt a pang of guilt as you realized just how long you had been pushing it, driving it forward without pause, without thought. the horse had carried you this far, and it deserved a moment to rest, to drink, to catch its breath. you guided it off the road and into a small clearing, where a stream trickled gently through the grass. dismounting, you led the horse to the water, watching as it dipped its head and drank deeply, its thirst evident in the way it gulped down the cool liquid.

you crouched beside it, cupping your hands to scoop up some water for yourself. the stream was clear and cold, and as you splashed it onto your face, the icy shock helped to clear the fog of fatigue that had settled over you. you drank in silence, the water a welcome relief to your parched throat, before standing and gazing out at the road ahead. seoul was still miles away, the city skyline barely visible on the horizon, a distant mirage of steel and glass. but it was there—your destination, your last hope. the thought of reaching it filled you with a strange mixture of dread and determination. what would you find there? would the city be as lifeless as everything else you had seen, or would there be some sign of life, some remnant of the world you once knew?

the horse finished drinking and nudged you gently with its nose, as if urging you to continue. you patted its neck, offering it a quiet word of thanks before mounting once more. the journey resumed, the road stretching out before you like a ribbon of darkness, winding its way toward the heart of the city. as you rode, the landscape continued to change. the open fields and scattered houses gave way to more densely packed buildings, their windows staring out like hollow eyes. shops, restaurants, and offices lined the streets, their signs faded and their doors broken. some buildings had collapsed entirely, their walls crumbling into piles of rubble that spilled out onto the road. others stood eerily untouched, as if waiting for someone to return, to breathe life back into their empty halls.

you passed by a school, its playground overgrown with weeds, the swings creaking softly in the breeze. a grocery store stood nearby, its windows smashed, the shelves inside picked clean. the sight of it sent a chill down your spine, the realization that you were utterly alone sinking in once more. there were no scavengers, no looters, no signs of struggle—only the quiet, oppressive weight of abandonment. the sun dipped lower in the sky, its light casting the world in hues of orange and gold. the shadows grew longer, stretching across the road like dark tendrils, and you felt a growing sense of urgency. you needed to reach seoul before nightfall, before the darkness swallowed the world whole. with a gentle nudge, you urged the horse to quicken its pace, the city drawing ever closer with each passing moment.

finally, as the last rays of sunlight began to fade, you crested a hill and saw it—seoul. the city spread out before you, vast and sprawling, its towering skyscrapers rising up like sentinels in the twilight. the sight was both awe-inspiring and terrifying, the enormity of the city’s center almost overwhelming in its silence. you slowed the horse to a stop, your breath catching in your throat as you took it all in. the streets below were empty, devoid of the bustling crowds and endless streams of cars that once filled them. buildings that had once housed thousands of people now stood dark and hollow, their windows reflecting the fading light like dull, lifeless eyes. the silence was palpable, a living thing that pressed in around you, filling the empty spaces with its oppressive weight.

as the sun finally dipped below the horizon, the last vestiges of daylight vanished, leaving the city bathed in a deep, inky darkness. the only light came from the few remaining fires that still smoldered in the distance, their orange glow casting eerie shadows that danced along the edges of the buildings. the temperature dropped, the chill of night seeping into your bones as you sat there, staring out at the city that had once been the heart of the nation. you should have felt something—relief, maybe, or even hope. but all you felt was a hollow emptiness, a gnawing ache that settled deep in your chest. you had made it, but the city offered no comfort, no answers. it was as lifeless as the rest of the world.

you dismounted the horse, your legs trembling with exhaustion, and led it to a nearby alley where you could find some semblance of shelter. the walls rose up around you, the darkness closing in, and you pulled your jacket tighter, trying to ward off the cold. the horse nickered softly, its warm breath a small comfort in the chill night air. you found a spot where the alley narrowed, the walls on either side providing some protection from the wind, and sat down, your back against the rough brick. the horse stood nearby, its eyes half-closed, its head drooping with fatigue. you reached out and stroked its mane, whispering soothing words, though you weren’t sure who you were trying to comfort—yourself or the horse.

the city was quiet, the silence alive with the absence of sound. there were no voices, no footsteps, no hum of electricity or rush of cars. the world had ended, and all that remained was this—an empty city, a lone survivor, and the faint hope that somewhere, somehow, someone else had made it through the darkness. as the last of the light faded and the world was plunged into darkness, you closed your eyes and tried to sleep. but the silence was too loud, the emptiness too vast, and all you could do was sit there, staring into the void, waiting for a dawn that might never come.

the moon hung high in the sky, a sliver of pale light casting long shadows across the deserted streets of seoul as you made your way to the weapon shop. the air was cold, biting at your exposed skin as you trudged forward, your mind a fog of exhaustion and fear. the city was eerily quiet, the silence only broken by the occasional rustle of leaves or the distant creak of a sign swaying in the wind. but it was when you heard the first howl that your blood ran cold, freezing you in place.

the sound echoed through the empty streets, low and guttural, a primal call that sent a shiver down your spine. you didn’t know what it was, but you knew it wasn’t anything good. the howling grew louder, more frequent, and you forced your feet to move, your heart pounding in your chest as you quickened your pace. the weapon shop was close—just a few more blocks, and you would be safe. at least, that’s what you told yourself.

when you finally reached the shop, you didn’t hesitate. the building loomed large before you, three stories tall with a garage to the side, its dark facade blending into the shadows of the night. you darted across the street and threw open the door, slipping inside and quickly closing it behind you. the air inside was musty, filled with the scent of gun oil and old wood, a stark contrast to the crisp night air outside.

your eyes adjusted to the dim light, and you took in your surroundings. the shop was enormous, shelves upon shelves lined with every kind of weapon imaginable. guns, knives, bows and arrows, boxes of ammunition—everything you needed to survive was right here. you wasted no time, grabbing a large duffel bag from a nearby counter and filling it with supplies. a handgun with a box of bullets, a set of throwing knives, a bow with a quiver of arrows—each item you picked up felt like a small piece of security, a shield against the unknown dangers lurking outside.

as you moved through the shop, your eyes fell on the garage door, and you froze. there, written in big, crimson letters, were the same words you had seen before, “may god help us all.” the blood was still wet, glistening under the faint light filtering in through the broken windows. your heart skipped a beat, and a cold wave of fear washed over you. the message was ominous, a reminder that whatever had happened was far from over.

you were still staring at the words when the sound of glass shattering snapped you back to reality. you whipped around, the shotgun already in your hands, your finger on the trigger. the noise had come from the front of the shop, where a window had just been broken. panic seized you as you realized you weren’t alone. you spun around, eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of movement, the shotgun trembling in your grip.

but before you could react, something heavy and solid collided with your hand, sending the shotgun flying across the room. a strong arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you back against a solid chest, while another hand clamped down on your wrists, pinning them to the wall. you struggled, kicking out, but the grip was too strong, the man behind you unyielding. “who are you?” his voice was low, rough, filled with suspicion. “what are you doing here?”

you were too shocked to respond at first, your mind reeling. relief flooded through you at the realization that you weren’t alone, that there was another human being here. but that relief was short-lived, replaced by a surge of panic as you registered the man’s hostility. “my name is (y/n) (l/n),” you replied, your voice trembling. “i came from busan. the closest weapon store was in seoul, so i—”

“do you really think i’m gonna fall for that?” the man scoffed, his grip tightening around your wrists. you winced at the pain, shaking your head in confusion. “i don’t—what are you talking about?” you asked, your voice growing weaker as fear took hold. you could feel the man’s breath against your neck, hot and unsteady, as he spun you around to face him. your back hit the wall, and you looked up to meet his eyes—dark, piercing, and filled with something you couldn’t quite place.

he studied your face intently, his eyes narrowing as he reached out and touched your skin, probing at your cheeks and jawline as if searching for something hidden beneath the surface. you recoiled at the contact, trying to pull away, but he held you firmly in place. “what the hell is wrong with you?” you snapped, your voice rising in frustration and fear. the man ignored your question, his brow furrowing as he continued his inspection.

“are you really human?” he muttered, almost to himself, his eyes narrowing further. “when did the last war end?”

the question caught you off guard, leaving you momentarily speechless. “the korean war? it ended in 1953,” you stammered, utterly confused. his grip loosened slightly, and you seized the opportunity to ask, “why wouldn’t i be human?”

he let out a short, humorless laugh, shaking his head. “you really don’t know, do you? have you been living under a rock this whole time?” there was a note of incredulity in his voice, as if the very idea was impossible. you had no idea how to respond. you wanted to ask what he meant, to demand answers, but the words caught in your throat. all you could do was stand there, staring up at him with wide, bewildered eyes.

“i just wanna find my sister,” you finally whispered, your voice barely audible. something in his gaze shifted at your words, the hard lines of his expression softening slightly. but before he could say anything, the howling started again, closer this time, the sound tearing through the silence of the night like a blade. the man’s eyes widened, panic flashing across his face as he released your wrists and grabbed your hand instead.

“they’re near,” he said urgently, pulling you away from the wall. “we need to go. now.”

“who’s near? what’s out there?” you asked, your voice rising with fear. but he didn’t answer, his grip on your hand tightening as he dragged you toward the door. the howling grew louder, more desperate, and your heart pounded in your chest as you followed him outside. he led you to a horse tied up at the side of the shop, its eyes wide with fear, nostrils flaring as it sensed the danger approaching.

“get on,” he commanded, practically lifting you onto the horse’s back. you hesitated for a moment, your mind racing with questions, but another howl—closer, more menacing—sent a jolt of fear through you, and you didn’t argue. the man mounted the horse behind you, his arms wrapping around you to take hold of the reins. without another word, he spurred the horse into a gallop, the two of you racing away from the shop and the howls that pursued you through the darkness. the wind whipped at your face, and the city blurred around you as the horse sped through the empty streets, the pounding of its hooves matching the frantic rhythm of your heart.

the wind whipped against your face as the horse bolted down the deserted streets, the rhythmic pounding of hooves resonating through the silence of the city. you tightened your grip around the man's waist, your fingers digging into the fabric of his coat as you clung to him, your heart hammering in your chest. the world blurred around you, a dizzying mix of shadows and moonlight, but you forced yourself to look back, to see what was chasing you.

at first, you thought you were seeing things—figures, indistinct in the darkness, running after you. people. it didn’t make sense, but there they were, sprinting through the streets with an almost unnatural speed. relief fluttered in your chest, a momentary flicker of hope that you weren’t as alone as you thought, that maybe, just maybe, there were still survivors. but that hope died a quick death as you watched in horror.

the figures—those people—began to change. as they ran, their bodies convulsed, bones snapping and reforming in grotesque ways, their limbs elongating and bending at unnatural angles. fur sprouted across their skin, thick and matted, as their faces elongated into sharp muzzles, fangs flashing under the moonlight. the air filled with the sickening sound of their transformation, a blend of animalistic growls and the grotesque snapping of bones. in mere seconds, what had been human was now a pack of wolves, their eyes glowing with a terrifying hunger as they closed the distance between you.

you were paralyzed with shock, your mind struggling to process what you were seeing, a cold wave of terror crashing over you as the realization settled in. the man in front of you glanced over his shoulder, his gaze hard as he took in the sight of the wolves. “do you get it now?” he asked, his voice grim, almost resigned. you shook your head, your voice trembling as you replied, “i was in a coma, for a month. i woke up to nothing.”

he didn’t respond immediately, his focus shifting back to the path ahead as the horse galloped faster, the cityscape flying by in a blur. when he finally spoke, his voice was low, laced with a bitter edge. “you missed the end of the world. lucky you.”

his words hit you like a punch to the gut, the weight of them settling heavily in your chest. the end of the world. you wanted to ask him what had happened, to demand answers, but the words stuck in your throat, strangled by the fear clawing at your insides. instead, you forced yourself to ask the one question that burned in your mind.

“what are those things?” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the wind and the relentless pounding of hooves. he shrugged, a sharp, humorless laugh escaping him. “people call them skinwalkers.” he paused, his gaze hardening as he looked back at the wolves chasing you. “we just call them predators. they don’t deserve to be named—just killed.”

his words sent a chill down your spine, the cold, detached tone in which he spoke of them making your stomach turn. you wanted to argue, to protest, but you knew it would be futile. the creatures—those skinwalkers—were far from human now, twisted by whatever horrors had unfolded during your month of oblivion. you swallowed hard, fighting back the nausea that threatened to rise as you clung tighter to the man, your mind spinning with a thousand questions that had no answers.

the horse veered sharply to the right, pulling you from your spiraling thoughts as the man guided it down a narrow alley, the buildings towering above you on either side. the howls of the wolves echoed through the city, growing louder, more frantic, as they pursued you with relentless determination. but the man didn’t falter, his grip on the reins steady, his focus unwavering as he pushed the horse to its limits. you didn’t dare look back again. Instead, you buried your face in the man’s shoulder, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried to block out the terror that threatened to consume you. your mind raced with thoughts of your sister, of the world that had crumbled while you lay unconscious, and of the unknown dangers that lurked in the shadows of the new, terrifying reality.

for what felt like an eternity, you rode through the labyrinth of seoul’s streets, the city a dark and twisted maze that offered no comfort, no refuge. every shadow seemed to move, every sound echoed with the threat of something worse, and the howls of the skinwalkers followed you like a sinister promise of what awaited if you faltered. at last, the secluded campsite came into view, a sprawling expanse surrounded by tall, imposing fences. the heavy gates were reinforced with barbed wire, a stark reminder of the dangers lurking beyond. the man guided the horse towards the entrance, his movements careful, methodical. he had been quiet for most of the ride, his focus solely on getting you both to safety, but now that you were here, you could sense a shift in his demeanor. a tension that had been absent before.

when the horse came to a stop just outside the gates, he dismounted first, his boots hitting the ground with a soft thud. he reached up to help you down, his hands firm as he guided you to solid ground. you felt the exhaustion settle into your bones as soon as your feet touched the earth, your legs trembling with the effort of standing after such a long and harrowing ride. you managed a weak smile, despite everything, and offered a quiet, “thank you.”

he scoffed, his expression a mix of weariness and amusement. “don’t thank me,” he muttered, his tone almost dismissive. he paused, glancing down at the bags you clutched tightly to your chest. “you’re the one with the weapons.” his words made you scowl, the idea of sharing the supplies you had risked so much to gather sending a surge of irritation through you. you clutched the bags tighter, your knuckles whitening as you grimaced at the thought. it was your first real instinct of self-preservation since you had woken up, a primal urge to protect what little you had left.

he noticed, and a soft chuckle escaped him. “relax,” he said, his tone lighter now, almost teasing. “i’m not here to take anything from you. just making sure we both survive the night.”

his words did little to ease your discomfort, but you forced yourself to loosen your grip on the bags, nodding reluctantly. there was a long pause, the silence stretching between you as you stood there in the shadow of the towering fence, the distant crackle of a fire reaching your ears. it was the first sign of life you had encountered since the end of the world as you knew it, and it stirred something deep within you—hope, maybe, or the fear of finding out just how few had survived.

you swallowed hard, pushing past the knot of anxiety that had lodged itself in your throat. “I never got your name,” you said, your voice quieter than you intended, barely louder than the rustling of leaves in the wind. he looked at you then, really looked at you, his dark eyes reflecting the dim light of the distant fire. there was something guarded in his expression, a hesitation that you couldn’t quite place, but after a moment, he nodded, his lips curving into a faint, almost reluctant smile.

“jungkook,” he replied, his voice steady. then, after a beat, he added, “jeon jungkook.”

you nodded, the name settling into your mind as you repeated it silently to yourself. there was something reassuring about knowing his name, something that made the situation feel a little less surreal, a little more grounded in reality. you didn’t know why, but it gave you a small measure of comfort, as if knowing this one thing could somehow anchor you in a world that had become so utterly unrecognizable.

with a quiet sigh, you followed him towards the entrance of the campsite, the soft glow of the fire growing brighter as you drew closer. the night was still, the silence broken only by the sound of your footsteps crunching against the gravel. the tall fences loomed above you, their presence both intimidating and reassuring, a reminder that, for now at least, you were safe.

as you approached the camp, you caught sight of the fire—a small, controlled flame flickering in the center of the site, surrounded by a few scattered tents and makeshift shelters. shadows moved around it, figures huddled close to the warmth, their faces obscured by the dim light. you couldn’t tell how many people were there, but the sight of them filled you with a mixture of anticipation and unease. you had wondered for so long if you were alone in this new world, and now that you knew you weren’t, you weren’t sure what to expect.

as you neared the campsite, the first thing that struck you was the subdued glow of the fire, its warmth a definite contrast to the cold, oppressive darkness surrounding you. the silhouettes of the people grew clearer with each step, their movements casting shifting shadows on the ground. a man sat by the fire, meticulously cleaning his pistol with practiced precision. the soft clinking of metal against metal was a steady, rhythmic sound, providing a strange comfort in the otherwise silent night. nearby, a woman was hanging clothes to dry on a makeshift line, her actions slow and deliberate. the sight of her, busy with mundane tasks, was oddly reassuring.

another man, his face illuminated by the firelight, was roasting what appeared to be an animal. the smell of cooking meat filled the air, mingling with the scent of smoke. It was a reminder of the normalcy that once was, a slice of life that had persisted even in the wake of disaster. beside the fire, another figure lay on the ground, his form barely discernible, while a young girl—barely older than a teenager—stood with her back to you. as you and jungkook approached, the girl turned slowly, the sound of your footsteps catching her attention. when she saw you, your heart skipped a beat, and the weight of the world seemed to lift momentarily. your bags slipped from your grip, hitting the ground with a muted thud.

“hera?” you breathed, the name escaping your lips in a whisper.

the recognition was mutual. hera’s eyes widened, her hand flying to her mouth as tears welled up and spilled over. her face contorted with shock and disbelief, and she ran towards you. in an instant, she was in your arms, her embrace fierce and desperate. you sobbed into her shoulder, the relief of finding her overwhelming. the group watched in stunned silence as you and her clung to each other, your sobs mingling with hers in a raw display of emotion. hera’s voice was muffled as she asked, “what are you doing here?”

you could barely manage to articulate through your tears. “i was looking for you,” you managed to choke out. “i was looking for you, and i found you.” you brushed her hair away from her tear-streaked face, trying to steady yourself. the warmth of her presence was a balm to your fractured spirit. jungkook, standing just outside the circle of light, took in the scene with a softened gaze.

“you should’ve just said hera was your sister,” he said, his voice low and contemplative. the woman hanging clothes wiped at her eyes, her expression one of awe and empathy. “not every day you get a sight like this in such a place,” she said softly.

the man who had been cleaning his gun straightened, curiosity etched on his face. “jungkook, who is she?” he asked. jungkook turned to the group, gesturing towards you. “(y/n) (l/n),” he said. “found her at the weapon shop.”

you lifted the two bags that had fallen to the ground, holding them up for the group to see. one was filled with weapons, the other with supplies. as their faces lit up with a mix of relief and gratitude, the gravity of the situation seemed to shift. the realization that you had come prepared, that you had braved the perils to bring something valuable to their camp, seemed to lift the somber mood. with hera still holding onto you, you felt the weight of the journey finally lift from your shoulders. the camp, once a distant beacon of hope, now felt like a place of refuge, a haven where, against all odds, you had found something precious amidst the ruins.

as the night deepened, you settled near the fire, the warmth seeping through your clothes and offering a much-needed reprieve from the cold. the crackle of the flames was soothing, a rhythmic backdrop to the quiet conversations that wove through the camp. hera had fallen asleep on your lap, her breathing steady and calm after the emotions of the day. you carefully shifted, trying not to disturb her as you reached for the bags you had brought with you. the group watched with a mix of curiosity and gratitude as you opened the bags, revealing the canned goods and supplies you had scavenged.

“oh hani, min yoongi, kim taehyung, jung hoseok,” jungkook introduced the members of the group with a casual wave, nodding to each as he spoke. each name felt like a small anchor in the sea of confusion, a thread connecting you to the new world you were navigating.

you set about distributing the canned goods, the clink of metal against metal a comforting sound in the quiet of the night. hani, who had been hanging clothes earlier, now busied herself arranging the cans, her movements efficient and practiced. yoongi, who had been resting on the ground, joined the effort with a weary but grateful nod. taehyung, who had been cleaning his pistol, put his weapon aside to help. hoseok, having finished roasting the squirrel, offered a satisfied smile as he took a can. as you worked, the group explained more about their situation. they shared that hera had been desperately searching for you, her presence a beacon of hope in their small enclave. they had taken her in, treating her like their own, and she had become a beloved part of their makeshift family.

the conversation eventually turned to you and your ordeal. hani, while opening a can of beans, gently asked about your coma and how you had survived. you shook your head, struggling to recall the details. “i don’t remember much,” you admitted softly. “i was in a coma. i woke up after a month, and everything was different.”

they listened attentively as jungkook took over, explaining that the world had ended with a nuclear attack, a catastrophic event that had turned many into twisted, hungry creatures. “those who were exposed either died or became skinwalkers,” he said, his voice somber. “skinwalkers, they were once people. now, they’re predators, hiding among the living. it’s not always obvious who’s been turned until they’re hungry, and by then, it’s too late.”

the weight of his words sank heavily in your stomach. the thought that anyone, even those you trusted, could become something monstrous was terrifying. the image of those skinwalkers, people who had lost their humanity, lingered in your mind, twisting into dark, anxious thoughts. taehyung’s voice broke through your reverie. “are you planning to join us?” he asked, his eyes steady as he looked at you.

you hesitated, the decision weighing heavily on you. the idea of leaving hera behind was unthinkable, but you also knew you had to make a choice for your own survival. after a moment of silent contemplation, you met jungkook’s gaze. his expression was open, his eyes warm and reassuring. “i’ll stay,” you said finally, your voice firm despite the turmoil inside you. “i can’t leave hera. i need to be here for her.” jungkook’s smile softened, a flicker of relief in his eyes. “good,” he said quietly. “we could use another pair of hands.”

as the night deepened, the flickering firelight gradually began to dim, its warm glow surrendering to the cool darkness of the surrounding forest. the sounds of the camp quieted, conversations trailing off as exhaustion began to overtake the small group. one by one, they each found their way to their makeshift beds, the day's events weighing heavily on their minds. jungkook, still sitting by the fire, looked around the group. “who’s going to keep watch tonight?” he asked, his voice soft but steady, cutting through the peaceful silence.

you immediately volunteered, the words slipping out before you could even think about them. “i’ll do it,” you said, determination lacing your voice. you didn’t want to sleep, not yet. your thoughts were too restless, too clouded by everything that had happened. you began to gently lift hera, her small body feeling heavier in your arms as the day’s exhaustion settled in. she stirred slightly but didn’t wake, her face calm and peaceful, a contrast to the chaos that surrounded you. you tried to carry her into her tent, but your muscles screamed in protest, the weight too much after the day you’d had. your arms shook, and you felt yourself faltering.

jungkook noticed your struggle, his dark eyes softening as he quietly stood and walked over to you. without a word, he reached out and took hera from your arms, his movements careful and deliberate as he cradled her against his chest. relief washed over you, and you couldn’t help but give him a grateful smile. “thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the quiet night. he just nodded, his expression unreadable as he turned and carried her toward the tent. you followed close behind, your footsteps soft against the earth. the tent flap rustled as he pushed it aside and stepped inside, his movements slow and gentle as he laid hera down on the makeshift bed. he adjusted the blanket around her small frame, making sure she was warm and comfortable.

you knelt beside her, your heart swelling with a mix of love and sorrow as you watched her sleep. her face, so serene, was a reminder of everything you were fighting for. you reached out and gently brushed a few strands of hair away from her forehead, your fingers lingering as you marveled at how peaceful she looked, even in this broken world. “she’s like a daughter to us,” jungkook said quietly, his voice carrying a deep sense of affection. he sat back on his heels, watching her with a soft expression that you hadn’t seen before.

you turned to look at him, your heart aching with gratitude. “thank you for watching over her, for keeping her safe. i don’t know what i would’ve done if something had happened to her.” jungkook met your gaze, his eyes dark and sincere. “you don’t have to thank me,” he replied, his voice low and steady. “she’s a good kid. we all care about her.”

silence fell between you, the weight of everything unspoken hanging in the air. there was a shared understanding in that quiet, an acknowledgment of the burdens each of you carried. in that moment, you felt a connection with him, something deeper than the circumstances that had brought you together. you broke the silence first, your voice soft but firm. “you should get some sleep. i’ll keep watch.”

he shook his head, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “i’ll keep you company,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. you opened your mouth to protest but stopped yourself. there was something comforting in the idea of not being alone, of having someone beside you as the night wore on. you nodded, a quiet acceptance, and he settled down beside you. together, you both sat in the tent, the stillness of the night wrapping around you like a blanket.

outside, the wind rustled through the trees, a soft whisper that mingled with the quiet breaths of the sleeping camp. jungkook stayed close, his presence a steady anchor in the uncertainty of the night.

every so often, you’d glance at hera, her tiny chest rising and falling with each peaceful breath, and your heart would swell with a fierce protectiveness. you were grateful to jungkook and the others for keeping her safe when you couldn’t, and for giving her a sense of normalcy in a world that had lost all sense of it. he leaned back slightly, his shoulders relaxed as he kept a watchful eye on the tent’s entrance. the firelight from outside cast long shadows, painting his features in a mixture of light and dark. you studied him in the dim light, wondering about the man who had so easily taken on the role of protector, not just for hera, but for all of them.

time passed slowly, the night inching forward as the two of you remained vigilant. every creak of a tree or rustle in the underbrush set your nerves on edge, but jungkook’s calm presence helped keep your fears at bay. the silence was no longer uncomfortable; it was a shared experience, a mutual understanding that you were both in this together. you found yourself growing more and more weary, the events of the day catching up to you. but every time your eyes began to droop, you’d shake yourself awake, determined to stay alert. jungkook noticed, his sharp gaze catching every small movement. “you’re exhausted,” he observed quietly, his voice gentle but firm. “you should rest.”

you shook your head, refusing to give in. “i’ll be fine,” you insisted, even though your body was screaming for sleep. “i can’t, can’t let my guard down.” jungkook’s expression softened, and he leaned a little closer. “you’re not alone anymore,” he reminded you. “we’ll take turns. i’ll keep watch for now. you can rest.”

the warmth in his voice, the genuine concern, made something inside you finally give way. you hadn’t realized just how desperately you needed that reassurance, that reminder that you didn’t have to do this all on your own. with a reluctant nod, you finally allowed yourself to lie down beside hera, pulling the blanket up to your chin. jungkook stayed close, his presence a silent promise that he’d keep you both safe.

as your eyes began to close, you felt a hand gently brush your arm. “you did good today,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “get some rest. i’ve got you.” those were the last words you heard before you allowed the world to go black once more. once again, everything was silent. only this time, you allowed it. you allowed it as you relished in the fact that, for once, you weren't alone.

you awoke to the smell of something cooking, the savory aroma of meat roasting over a fire drawing you from the depths of sleep. the tent was still, hera’s small form curled up beside you, her breathing soft and even. you took a moment to watch her, the way her face relaxed in slumber, so different from the tense expression she often wore when awake. it was a reminder of how much she had been through, how much she still needed you.

carefully, you slipped out of the tent, making sure not to wake her. the morning air was cool and crisp, the sky a pale blue streaked with the first light of dawn. the camp was coming to life around you, the quiet rustling of movement as the others began their day. near the fire, you spotted hani, her dark hair pulled back as she crouched beside a spit, turning a rabbit that was roasting over the flames. the sight of it made your stomach growl, a reminder of just how long it had been since you’d eaten anything substantial.

you approached her quietly, offering her a small smile. “good morning,” you said softly, not wanting to startle her. hani looked up, her expression warm as she returned your greeting. “morning. thank you for keeping watch last night.”

you shook your head, waving off her thanks. “it was nothing. you should sit down for a bit, though. i can take over the cooking if you’d like.” she chuckled softly, shaking her head. “you’re a sweetheart, but i’ve got it under control. i’ve been doing this for a while now.” she paused, her eyes assessing you for a moment before she asked, “do you know much about guns?”

you nodded slightly. “enough to get by. why?” she motioned towards the bag you had brought with you, where the weapons were stored. “could you take over cleaning the ones you brought? we need to make sure they’re in good condition.” you nodded again, understanding the importance of keeping the weapons clean and functional. “of course,” you replied. “i’ll take care of it.”

“thanks,” hani said, her tone appreciative. “it’s a big help.” you retrieved the bag with the weapons, hefting it over your shoulder as you walked towards the edge of the camp. you needed space, somewhere quiet where you could focus on the task at hand. the forest loomed ahead, the trees casting long shadows over the ground as the morning light filtered through the branches.

as you walked, you caught taehyung’s eye across the camp. his gaze was sharp, unreadable, and you couldn’t quite place the look he gave you. it wasn’t hostile, but it wasn’t friendly either. you offered him a small smile, hoping to ease whatever tension lay between you, but he didn’t return it. instead, he looked away, his expression hardening. pushing the encounter from your mind, you found a secluded spot beneath a large oak tree and set the bag down. the ground was damp with morning dew, the air thick with the scent of earth and foliage. you knelt down, unzipping the bag to reveal the assortment of weapons inside. pistols, rifles, even a couple of knives—all in need of cleaning.

you started with the pistols, methodically disassembling each one, laying the pieces out on a clean cloth. your hands moved with practiced ease, the motions familiar as you cleaned and oiled each part, ensuring they were in working order. the repetitive task was almost meditative, giving you something to focus on besides the lingering uncertainty in the pit of your stomach. as you worked, the sounds of the forest filled the silence—the chirping of birds, the rustling of leaves, the distant crack of a branch. it was peaceful, a stark contrast to the tension that had been gnawing at you since you’d woken up in that hospital. there, in that quiet moment, you felt a semblance of control, a small piece of normalcy in an otherwise chaotic world.

but the peace didn’t last. as you were finishing the last pistol, you heard a rustling in the bushes behind you, the sound too deliberate to be an animal. your heart leapt into your throat, and without thinking, you reached for the nearest gun, your fingers wrapping around the grip as you spun around, ready to defend yourself. before you could react further, you felt two hands on your shoulders, firm but not aggressive. you whipped around, your pulse racing, only to find yourself staring into jungkook’s amused eyes.

“this is the second time you’ve drawn your gun on me,” he said, a playful grin tugging at his lips. you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, lowering the gun as you scoffed. “and this is the second time you’ve scared me.”

he laughed, the sound low and rich, cutting through the tension that had built up in your chest. “fair enough,” he conceded, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “did you really clean all these guns by yourself?” pride swelled within you as you gestured to the neatly arranged weapons. “see for yourself.”

his grin widened as he glanced at the pistols, his eyebrows lifting in appreciation. “impressive,” he admitted, nodding in approval. “you’re full of surprises.” you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips, a sense of satisfaction warming you from the inside. it felt good to be useful, to contribute something tangible to the group.

“come on,” jungkook said, jerking his head towards the forest. “let’s see if we can catch some game. we could use the meat.” you nodded in agreement, feeling a renewed sense of purpose as you followed him deeper into the woods. the forest was alive with the sounds of morning, the sunlight filtering through the canopy above, casting dappled patterns on the forest floor.

it didn’t take long to spot your first target—a rabbit, its small, gray body barely visible among the underbrush. you raised your gun, your breath steady as you took aim, focusing on the task at hand. the rabbit was still, unaware of the danger, and you hesitated for just a moment before pulling the trigger. the shot rang out, echoing through the trees. the rabbit fell, its body twitching slightly before going still. you lowered the gun, a sense of grim satisfaction settling over you as you approached the animal.

but as you drew closer, something about the rabbit caught your eye. its fur was matted, patches of it missing, and there were dark, swollen marks around its neck. you knelt down, examining it more closely, and your stomach dropped when you saw the unmistakable signs of a bite—jagged, deep wounds that could only have been made by a skinwalker. you stepped back quickly, your heart pounding as the reality of it sank in. the rabbit wasn’t just injured; it was infected. if you had touched it, eaten it.

“damn,” you muttered under your breath, fear creeping up your spine. jungkook, who had been watching from a few feet away, noticed the change in your demeanor. he walked over, his expression darkening as he saw the bite marks. “we should leave it,” he said, his voice low and serious. “it’s not safe.”

you nodded, your mouth suddenly dry. the encounter had shaken you more than you cared to admit, the fear of what could have happened lingering in the back of your mind. sensing your unease, jungkook gave you a reassuring look. “it’s okay,” he said gently. “we’ll find something else.”

he led the way deeper into the forest, his eyes scanning the surroundings with a practiced ease. you followed, trying to shake off the lingering fear, focusing instead on the task at hand. after a while, you spotted movement in the distance—a deer, its graceful form half-hidden among the trees. jungkook motioned for you to stay back as he raised his rifle, taking careful aim. you watched, holding your breath as he steadied his shot, his finger tightening on the trigger.

the shot was clean, the bullet finding its mark. the deer stumbled, then fell to the ground, its body going still. relief washed over you, mingled with a sense of admiration for jungkook’s skill. you approached the fallen deer together, your hands steady as you began the process of cleaning it. the work was familiar, the motions practiced, but there was a heaviness to it now, the encounter with the rabbit still fresh in your mind.

he watched you as you worked, a small grin tugging at his lips. “i didn’t take you for a hunter,” he remarked, his tone light. you glanced up at him, a smirk playing on your lips. “yeah, well, you took me for a skinwalker.”

he rolled his eyes, though there was no malice in his expression. “i’m glad you’re not.” you both shared a small laugh, the tension from earlier slowly dissipating as you finished cleaning the deer. it was hard work, but it felt good, grounding you in the reality of the moment, reminding you that you were still here, still fighting.

with the deer cleaned and ready, you and jungkook headed back to the campsite. the sun was higher in the sky now, casting a warm glow over the clearing as you emerged from the trees. the others were waiting, their faces lighting up when they saw the deer. hera was the first to spot you, her eyes widening with pride as she ran over to you. “did you really clean it?” she asked, her voice full of admiration. you nodded, a warm smile spreading across your face. “i did.”

from behind, you heard taehyung’s voice, cold and sharp. “good,” he said, his tone biting. “you should be making yourself useful anyway.” silence fell over the group, the air thick with awkwardness. you felt the sting of his words, the way they cut through the camaraderie that had been building. you didn’t understand where his hostility was coming from, but it was clear that he didn’t trust you, didn’t want you here.

you noticed hani out of the corner of your eye, hovering over a crate of wet clothes, her movements slow and tired. concern for her well-being overshadowed the hurt from taehyung’s comment, and you quickly moved over to her. “hey,” you said softly, placing a hand on her arm. “you should get some rest. i can hang the clothes to dry.”

she looked at you, gratitude in her eyes as she nodded. “thank you,” she whispered, her voice tinged with exhaustion. as you gathered the clothes, you could feel taehyung’s eyes on you, his gaze heavy and unyielding. you refused to meet it, focusing instead on the task at hand. hoseok, sensing the tension, turned to him, his expression puzzled.

“what’s your problem?” hoseok asked, his tone laced with curiosity and concern. taehyung shrugged, his face impassive. “i don’t trust her.”

hera’s voice was firm as she spoke up, her tone leaving no room for argument. “if we could trust anyone, it would be her.” jungkook, who had been watching the exchange from afar, smiled to himself, his gaze lingering on you as you walked away with the clothes. there was something about you that intrigued him, something that made him believe that hera was right.

as you hung the clothes to dry, you couldn’t shake the feeling of taehyung’s glare burning into your back, the weight of his distrust heavy on your shoulders. but you refused to let it break you. you were determined to prove your worth, to show them all that you were more than capable of pulling your weight. you took your time with the clothes, the fabric heavy and damp in your hands as you draped each piece over the thin wire stretched between two posts. the morning air was crisp, the kind that made your breath fog slightly, but the warmth of the rising sun began to chase away the chill. around you, the camp slowly stirred to life, the quiet sounds of people waking up blending with the natural world—a bird’s distant call, the rustle of leaves, the crackle of the dying fire from last night.

you focused on the task, trying to lose yourself in the simplicity of it, finding a strange comfort in the routine. with each piece of clothing hung, you felt a small sense of accomplishment. it was something normal, something to hold onto in the midst of everything that had become so abnormal. as you clipped the last piece of clothing to the line, the quiet of the morning was broken by the sound of footsteps behind you. you turned to see jimin and hoseok approaching, their expressions warm and inviting, a welcome contrast to the anxiety that had settled in your chest since you arrived.

“need a hand?” jimin asked, his voice soft yet cheerful, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that made you feel at ease. you smiled, nodding as you handed him a damp shirt to hang. “sure, thanks.”

the three of you worked in comfortable silence for a few moments, the rhythm of the task almost meditative. jimin eventually broke the quiet, his tone casual but genuinely interested. “where’d you find the food?” he asked, glancing over at you. “i thought the stores in seoul were all cleared out.”

you paused, the memory of your frantic journey through busan flashing in your mind. you could almost smell the musty air of the abandoned store, feel the sharp edge of desperation as you grabbed whatever you could find. “i got it from busan,” you said, unable to hide a small, nostalgic smile as you thought of your hometown. jimin’s eyes widened in surprise and excitement. “no way! i’m from busan too!”

you couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh, the coincidence lifting your spirits. “really? i can’t believe you were so close this whole time. it feels like a lifetime ago.”

“tell me about it,” he said, shaking his head with a smile. “i used to hang out at haeundae beach all the time. do you remember the food stalls there? the tteokbokki was the best. i’d always grab some before heading to the beach.” you felt a pang of bittersweet emotion at the memory. “i used to go there with hera,” you replied, your voice softening. “it was one of our favorite spots. busan feels like a different world now, doesn’t it?”

he nodded, his expression tinged with a similar sadness, but also a shared understanding. “yeah, it does. but it’s nice to meet someone who knows that world, you know?” hoseok, who had been quietly working beside you, couldn’t resist adding his own thoughts. he grinned widely, his bright energy a welcome contrast to the bleakness of your situation. “it must be fate that you two found each other here.”

you smiled at the thought, the idea of fate bringing a flicker of hope to your heart. but before you could respond, another voice, colder and sharper, interrupted the moment. “what must be fate?” taehyung’s voice was laced with suspicion, his eyes narrowing as he approached, his posture tense and guarded. he leaned casually against the fence, but there was nothing relaxed about the way he looked at you, his gaze sharp and calculating.

hoseok turned to him with a lighthearted tone, trying to defuse the tension. “(y/n) and jimin both coming from busan,” he explained, his smile genuine as if hoping to include taehyung in the conversation. but he didn’t soften. instead, his lips twisted into a grimace as he folded his arms across his chest. “maybe you should think about going back to busan then,” he suggested, his words carrying a harsh edge.

jimin’s brow furrowed in confusion, his cheerful demeanor dimming slightly as he looked at taehyung. “why would she do that?” he asked, genuinely perplexed. “there’s not enough food to go around for all of us,” taehyung replied, his tone icy as he shifted his gaze back to you. “might as well save everyone the trouble.”

his words stung, cutting through the tentative sense of belonging you’d started to feel. you wanted to defend yourself, to remind him that you’d brought food too, but before you could speak, hoseok beat you to it. “the food from last night was what (y/n) brought,” he said firmly, his usual bright demeanor replaced with a rare seriousness as he stood up for you.

taehyung’s eyes flashed with irritation, and he opened his mouth to retort, but before he could get a word out, another voice cut through the tension. “do you ever know when to shut your mouth?” jungkook’s voice was low and hard as he approached, his gaze fixed on taehyung with an intensity that made the air around you seem heavier.

he scoffed, straightening up as he turned to face jungkook, his stance challenging. “if you want to starve, be my guest,” he snapped, his voice dripping with disdain. the confrontation between them was thick with unspoken challenges, the tension palpable. you felt caught in the middle, your heart pounding in your chest as the situation escalated. without thinking, you spoke up, trying to find a solution that wouldn’t lead to more conflict.

“i could make a run to busan,” you offered, your voice steady despite the uncertainty you felt. “get more supplies.”

jimin and hoseok both looked at you with concern, their expressions showing they didn’t think it was a good idea. jimin was the first to voice his worries. “it’s too dangerous,” he said, his voice soft but firm. but taehyung decided to play the contrarian, nodding in approval. “good idea. at least someone’s thinking,” he said, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

before you could respond, jungkook stepped in, his tone leaving no room for argument. “you’re not going alone.” you turned to him, your eyes meeting his. “i can handle it,” you insisted, not wanting to seem weak or incapable.

but he shook his head, his expression unwavering. “i’m going with you.” taehyung, who had been watching the exchange with a growing smirk, leaned in closer, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “congrats, (y/n). you’ve got a knight in shining armor.” he shot jungkook a mocking look before turning on his heel and walking away, leaving the rest of you in an awkward silence.

you watched him go, feeling a mix of frustration and anger, but also confusion. taehyung’s hostility was baffling, but jungkook’s presence beside you was a source of comfort, grounding you in the midst of the the unexpected tension. when you looked back at him, his expression softened slightly, and there was an understanding in his eyes—a silent promise that he wouldn’t let you face whatever was out there alone.

“don’t let him get to you,” he said quietly, his voice breaking through the tension. he glanced in the direction taehyung had gone, then back at you. “some people just don’t know how to deal with what’s happening.” you nodded, appreciating his words, though the sting of taehyung’s attitude still lingered. “thanks,” you murmured, feeling a bit more at ease knowing he had your back. you expected survival to be your biggest concern, the creatures of the undead lurking in the woods. you had second-guessed just how much other people would be a bother.

the camp was alive with the sounds of morning—rustling leaves, distant birdsong, and the gentle murmur of conversations as everyone began their day. you felt a sense of quiet determination as you and jungkook moved toward hani, who was sitting by the fire with hera. the warmth of the flames contrasted with the cool morning air, and the smell of roasting rabbit still lingered in the air from breakfast.

he caught hani’s eye first, his expression serious but calm. “hani,” he began, his voice soft yet firm, “(y/n) and i are planning to make a run to busan for more supplies.” her brow furrowed slightly, weariness etched into the lines of her face. the life of survival had worn on all of you, but for hani, who carried so much of the group's burdens, it showed the most. her lips pressed into a thin line, concern flashing in her eyes. “busan? that’s a dangerous trip. are you sure it’s worth the risk?”

before you could respond, hera’s small voice cut through the conversation, her eyes wide with fear as she realized what was being discussed. “no,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she rushed to your side. her tiny arms wrapped around your waist, clutching you tightly. “don’t go, please don’t go. what if something happens to you?” her plea was like a knife to your heart, the sheer desperation in her voice almost breaking your resolve. you felt her trembling against you, and your heart ached with the weight of her fear. slowly, you crouched down so that you were at eye level with her, gently taking her small hands in yours.

“hera,” you said softly, your voice filled with warmth and reassurance, “nothing is going to happen to me. i promise.” you smiled, trying to infuse your words with as much confidence as you could muster, though the uncertainty of the world loomed over you like a shadow. she shook her head, her lower lip trembling as she clung to you even tighter. “but what if, what if something bad happens?” her eyes, wide and innocent, searched yours for any sign of doubt.

you felt your throat tighten as you pulled her into your arms, holding her close as if to shield her from the harsh realities of the world around you. “i’ll be back before sundown,” you whispered into her hair, smoothing it down with one hand. “and i’ll bring back lots of food and supplies. we’ll be safe, i promise.” her tiny arms wrapped around your neck, and she buried her face in your shoulder, refusing to let go. the warmth of her embrace filled you with both a sense of responsibility and a fierce determination to keep your word.

as you held her, you became aware of the others watching. hani’s expression softened, the worry still present but mixed with a reluctant acceptance. she knew better than anyone the risks of this new world, but she also understood the necessity of your mission. hoseok offered you a supportive nod, his usual bright energy subdued but still present in the way he smiled at the two of you. jimin stood a little ways off, his eyes gentle as he observed the scene, a silent reassurance in his gaze. even jungkook, who had been standing quietly beside you, had a softness in his expression as he watched hera cling to you. taehyung remained distant, his gaze averted as if unwilling to witness the emotional exchange. his aloofness cut through the warmth of the moment, a cold reminder that not everyone in the group trusted you yet. it stung, but you tried to push the thought aside. there were more important things to focus on right now.

finally, jungkook stepped forward, crouching down beside you and hera. he reached out, gently brushing a stray tear from her cheek with the back of his hand. “i’ll take good care of her, hera,” he promised, his voice gentle but steady. “i won’t let anything happen to her.” your heart fluttered at his words, the sincerity in his tone wrapping around you like a protective blanket. the way he looked at your sister, with such care and affection, only deepened the growing warmth in your chest. he was a natural protector, and in that moment, you felt an undeniable sense of trust in him—something that wasn’t easy to come by in these times.

hera pulled back slightly, her teary eyes flicking between you and jungkook. “promise?” she asked, her voice small and full of hope. he smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he nodded. “i promise.” she hesitated for a moment, her grip on you still firm, but the conviction in jungkook’s voice seemed to ease her fears. slowly, she nodded, though she still clung to you as if letting go meant losing you forever. you hugged her once more, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before finally standing up.

“we’ll be back before you know it,” you said, trying to keep your tone light and reassuring, even as the weight of the task ahead pressed down on you. she nodded again, her small hand slipping into yours as if needing that last bit of connection before you left. you gave it a gentle squeeze, hoping to convey through that simple touch all the love and protection you felt for her.

the preparations for your journey were swift but thorough, the weight of the task ahead pressing on everyone’s mind. as the group saw you and jungkook off, the air was thick with a mix of concern and hope. hera held onto your hand until the very last second, her grip tight as if willing you to stay. you gave her one final, reassuring smile before you and jungkook turned toward the horses tied up near the edge of camp.

the horses were strong and sturdy, their coats gleaming under the pale morning light. you approached one, a deep brown mare with a calm demeanor, while jungkook untied her reins. he patted her neck, murmuring something under his breath that seemed to soothe her. the animal’s large, gentle eyes met yours, and you felt a pang of nervousness at the thought of riding again after so long. the last time you’d ridden a horse was before everything had fallen apart—when the world was still whole, still recognizable.

jungkook must have noticed the hesitation in your eyes because he glanced back at you with a small, reassuring smile. “don’t worry, she’s a good horse,” he said, his voice steady. “she’ll take care of us.” you nodded, swallowing down the nerves as you approached the mare. he swung up into the saddle first, his movements fluid and practiced. he turned, extending a hand down to you. you hesitated for only a moment before placing your hand in his, the warmth of his grip steadying your resolve. with a firm tug, he helped you up, guiding you to settle in front of him on the saddle.

the moment you were seated, you realized just how close the two of you were. your back was pressed against jungkook’s chest, his arms on either side of you as he held the reins. his presence was warm and solid, a comforting contrast to the cold uncertainty of the world around you. you tried to focus on the task, but the feeling of his body against yours was impossible to ignore. “comfortable?” he asked, his voice low and close to your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. you nodded, your throat suddenly dry. “yeah, i’m good.”

he chuckled softly, the sound rumbling through his chest. “hold on tight, just in case.” taking his advice, you reached up and gripped the edge of the saddle, but it felt inadequate. there was still a small part of you that was uneasy, the fear of falling gnawing at the back of your mind. sensing your discomfort, he shifted slightly, adjusting his grip on the reins with one hand while the other came to rest gently on your waist. “this might be easier,” he murmured, his voice warm against your ear.

the gentle weight of his hand at your waist was both comforting and distracting. you nodded again, feeling your cheeks heat up, and then the horse began to move, her steps smooth and deliberate as she set off on the path toward busan. the journey started quietly, the sound of the horse’s hooves against the dirt path the only thing breaking the morning’s stillness. the trees overhead were thick with leaves, their branches arching across the path to create a tunnel of green that filtered the sunlight into soft, dappled patterns on the ground. the air was cool, carrying the scent of damp earth and distant wildflowers, a small reminder of the beauty that still existed in the world, despite everything.

jungkook guided the horse with practiced ease, his movements confident and sure. you focused on the rhythmic sway of the horse beneath you, the steady rise and fall that made you feel like you were part of the landscape, moving in sync with the world around you. the unease you had felt earlier began to melt away, replaced by a sense of calm as you became accustomed to the ride. the forest around you was alive with the quiet sounds of nature—birds singing, leaves rustling in the breeze, and the occasional crack of a twig underfoot. as you traveled deeper into the woods, the path grew narrower, the trees denser. you felt the brush of branches against your arms and legs as the horse navigated the increasingly rugged terrain.

after some time, the gentle motion and the warmth of jungkook behind you began to lull you into a sense of drowsiness. you fought it at first, determined to stay alert, but the early morning and the stress of the past few days had taken their toll. your eyelids grew heavy, the sounds of the forest fading into the background as your mind began to drift. “hey,” jungkook’s voice cut through the haze of sleep, gentle but amused. “you’re not falling asleep on me, are you?”

you blinked, startled by how close you had come to dozing off. you hadn’t realized how much you had relaxed into him until now, your head resting lightly against his shoulder. embarrassed, you straightened up, trying to shake off the drowsiness. “sorry,” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes. “didn’t mean to.” jungkook’s laughter was soft and good-natured. “it’s okay. you’ve been through a lot. i don’t mind being a pillow.”

despite the situation, you couldn’t help but smile at his teasing tone. “a comfortable pillow, i gotta add.” he chuckled again, the sound warming the chilly air around you. “well, go ahead and rest if you need to. we’ve still got a long way to go.” you considered his offer, the temptation to give in to the exhaustion pulling at you. but part of you didn’t want to let your guard down completely, not when you were on a mission as important as this. still, the comfort of the ride and the safety you felt in his presence made it hard to resist.

eventually, you let your head rest against his shoulder once more, the steady rhythm of the horse’s gait and the rise and fall of jungkook’s breathing lulling you into a light sleep. you drifted in and out of consciousness, the sounds of the forest and the warmth of his body blurring together into a comforting haze. by the time you woke again, the sun had climbed higher in the sky, casting long shadows on the path ahead. you sat up, blinking the sleep from your eyes as you took in your surroundings.

the trees had thinned out, giving way to the remnants of civilization. the outskirts of busan were visible in the distance, a contrast to the natural beauty of the forest. buildings stood like skeletons, their once bustling interiors now empty and crumbling. the streets, once filled with life, were eerily silent, devoid of any movement save for the occasional rustle of debris caught in the wind. jungkook felt you stir and glanced down at you with a small smile. “welcome back. you were out for a while.”

“sorry,” you said again, feeling a little guilty for leaving him to handle the journey alone. “did i miss anything?” he shook his head. “just a lot of trees and silence. figured you needed the rest more than i needed the company.” you appreciated his thoughtfulness, though you couldn’t help but feel a bit bad for falling asleep when you should have been alert. as the horse continued forward, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the city ahead. seoul’s skyline, once towering and majestic, was now broken and hollow, a ghost of its former self.

“this place used to be so full of life,” you murmured, the weight of what had been lost settling heavily in your chest. “yeah,” he agreed, his voice tinged with a sadness that matched your own. “hard to believe it’s the same city.” as you drew closer to seoul’s main point, the atmosphere shifted. the air grew thicker, more oppressive, as if the city itself was holding its breath. the closer you got, the more the reality of what you were about to face set in. the city was a dangerous place, filled with the remnants of people who hadn’t made it through the catastrophe. and worse still, the possibility of encountering skinwalkers loomed over you like a dark cloud.

jungkook must have sensed your unease because he adjusted his hold on the reins and leaned in slightly, his breath warm against your ear. “we’ll be okay. we just need to be careful.” you nodded, taking comfort in his calm demeanor. he had been through this before—navigating the ruins of the old world, facing the dangers that lurked within. his experience and confidence were something you could rely on, even as the fear gnawed at the edges of your mind.

the horse came to a stop as you reached the edge of the city. the streets were deserted, littered with debris and the remnants of lives long abandoned. the silence was oppressive, broken only by the distant sound of something creaking in the wind. jungkook dismounted first, his movements quiet and deliberate as he surveyed the area. after a moment, he turned and extended a hand to you. “ready?”

taking a deep breath, you accepted his hand and slid down from the horse, your feet hitting the ground with a soft thud. you felt a rush of nervous energy, but his steady demeanor beside you helped keep the fear at bay. “let’s find what we need and get out of here,” he said, his voice low but firm. you nodded in agreement, your eyes scanning the deserted streets. the stakes were high, but it would make all the difference to the group.

the streets of busan were as desolate as you remembered, each step echoing through the emptiness that surrounded you and jungkook. the buildings, once towering and majestic, now stood as mere husks of their former selves, looming like ghosts over the deserted streets. as you walked side by side, you found your thoughts drifting back to a time when the city was still alive—when the streets buzzed with the sounds of life, of people going about their daily routines. it was hard to believe that such a world had ever existed, but as you glanced up at the remnants of old storefronts and cracked sidewalks, you couldn’t help but remember the way things used to be.

“this way,” you murmured, leading him down a narrow alleyway that branched off from the main road. the alley was overgrown with weeds and littered with debris, but you knew this path like the back of your hand. ot was one of the few places in the city that held any semblance of familiarity, a relic of your childhood that had somehow survived the chaos.

as you walked, you found yourself sharing memories of the past with jungkook, your voice soft in the quiet of the alley. “i used to come here with hera when we were kids. there was this little convenience store at the end of the alley. the owner was this old man who always had a kind word and a free candy for us.” he glanced at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “sounds like a nice guy. surprised the store’s still standing after everything that’s happened.”

you nodded, the nostalgia settling over you like a warm blanket. “it’s one of the few places in the city that feels untouched, i guess. like a little piece of the past that’s still here, even when everything else is gone.” he hummed in agreement, his gaze shifting to the end of the alley where the store’s faded sign was just visible. as you neared the store, the tension in your shoulders eased slightly. despite the danger that loomed over every corner of the city, this place still held a certain safety for you—a sanctuary in the midst of the madness. jungkook broke the silence with a sudden, wistful sigh. “you know, i’d kill for a cigarette right now.”

the mention of cigarettes jolted something in your memory. you came to an abrupt stop, causing jungkook to glance at you in confusion. “what’s wrong?” without a word, you reached into your back pocket and pulled out the small, crumpled box of cigarettes you had picked up during your previous scavenging run. you had completely forgotten about them until now, the memory of stuffing them into your pocket slipping your mind amidst all the chaos.

his eyes widened as he caught sight of the box, a look of disbelief crossing his face. “i can’t believe you’ve been hiding these this whole time.” a guilty smile tugged at your lips as you shook your head. “i swear it wasn’t intentional. just forgot.”

he let out a soft laugh, his tension easing as he reached for the box. “forgot, huh? well, you just made my day.” you handed him a cigarette, along with a lighter, watching as he eagerly lit it up. the tension practically melted off his face as he took his first drag, his eyes closing in satisfaction. to your surprise, after lighting his own cigarette, he turned to you and held the flame up to your own. you hesitated for only a moment before leaning in, letting him light it for you.

“thanks,” you murmured, taking a drag and savoring the familiar taste of tobacco. it had been so long since you’d had one, the sensation was almost surreal. “no problem,” he replied, his voice lighter, more relaxed now that he had a cigarette in hand. the two of you began walking again, side by side, the smoke curling into the air above your heads as you continued down the alley.

“so,” he began after a moment of comfortable silence, “you and hera used to come here a lot?”

“yeah,” you replied, smiling at the memory. “it was our favorite spot. we’d save up our pocket money and come here to buy candy and snacks. the owner, mister kim, always gave us a little extra, just because he liked us.” jungkook nodded, a hint of wistfulness in his eyes. “aounds like a good guy. must’ve been nice, having a place like that.”

“it was,” you agreed softly. “it made us feel safe. like no matter what was going on in the world, we had this one little corner that was ours.” you walked in companionable silence for a while, the memories of your childhood warming you from the inside out. as you neared the store, you could see that it had changed very little since the last time you were there. the sign was faded and the windows were cracked, but it was still standing—still the same little store that had been a refuge for you and hera all those years ago.

jungkook paused as you approached the entrance, glancing at the old, weathered sign with a curious expression. “this is it?” you nodded, feeling a surge of nostalgia as you pushed open the door. the familiar creak of the hinges greeted you, the smell of dust and old wood filling your senses as you stepped inside. the store was dimly lit, the shelves mostly bare, but it still felt like a small piece of home.

“i’ll grab some food and water,” you said, breaking the silence as you pulled a bag from your shoulder. “you take whatever you can find. we’ll meet back here in a few minutes.” jungkook nodded in agreement, already scanning the shelves for supplies. as you made your way down the aisles, you couldn’t help but marvel at how little had changed. the store was nearly empty, but the layout was exactly as you remembered it—the same rows of shelves, the same old wooden counter at the back. It was as if time had stopped within these walls, preserving a piece of the past for you to find.

you picked out another bag from behind the counter, just as you had done with hera all those years ago, and began filling it with whatever canned goods and water you could find. the work was methodical, almost calming, as you focused on gathering what you needed. you could hear jungkook moving through the aisles behind you, the soft thuds of items being placed into his own bag. suddenly, a loud crash echoed through the store, followed by the sound of something heavy hitting the floor. your heart lurched in your chest as you spun around, dropping the can of beans you had just picked up. Without a second thought, you sprinted toward the source of the noise, your breath catching in your throat.

as you rounded the corner, you saw jungkook on the ground, a look of shock and horror on his face as a figure loomed over him. the creature—because it was no longer human—towered over him, its eyes glowing a menacing red, its mouth twisted into a snarl. it was a skinwalker, its human features barely masking the monster beneath. panic surged through you, but you didn’t hesitate. with a surge of adrenaline, you rushed forward, locking an arm around the creature’s neck and yanking it off jungkook with all your strength. the creature hissed and thrashed, but you held on, your other hand reaching for the knife at your belt. with a swift, practiced motion, you drove the blade into its throat, the force of the strike sending a spray of dark, viscous blood across the floor.

for a split second, you feared that you had acted too rashly—what if it had been a human? but as the creature dropped to the ground, its eyes flashing red before it finally stopped moving, you knew that you had made the right choice. jungkook scrambled to his feet, breathing heavily as he glanced down at the now lifeless body. “holy shit,” he muttered, brushing the dust off his clothes. “you saved my ass.”

you couldn’t help but smile, despite the lingering fear in your chest. “hera,” you began, mimicking his earlier words with a teasing grin, “i’ll protect her.” he rolled his eyes, though there was a hint of amusement in his expression. “it caught me off guard.”

his gaze shifted to the body at his feet, his expression darkening as he crouched beside it. before you could ask what he was doing, he reached for your knife, his fingers curling around the handle with a grim determination. “you have to finish it off,” he said quietly, his voice laced with something you couldn’t quite place. and then, to your shock, he drove the knife into the creature’s head with a sickening crunch. “they never fully die unless you get the brain.”

the cruelty of the act made your skin crawl, but you couldn’t deny that he was right. the world you lived in now demanded such harsh measures—measures that were necessary for survival, even if they made you feel sick to your stomach. as you tried to shake off the unease, your gaze shifted to the aisle jungkook had been in. a quiet laugh bubbled up from your chest as you saw the box of condoms lying on the floor, the likely cause of the crash.

“what were you looking for over here?” you asked, your tone teasing as you pointed to the box. he glanced down, and to your amusement, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “i might need them at some point,” he mumbled, quickly stuffing the box into his bag as if hoping you hadn’t seen.

you raised an eyebrow, your grin widening as you caught the flustered look on jungkook’s face. his sudden bashfulness was a contrast to the confident, almost unshakeable demeanor he usually carried. the idea of him, out of all people, getting embarrassed over something as trivial as condoms made the situation all the more amusing. “need them at some point, huh?” you teased, tilting your head as you tried to catch his eye. “do you have a girlfriend stashed away somewhere that i don’t know about?”

jungkook finally met your gaze, and you could see a flicker of something mischievous in his eyes, though his cheeks were still tinged with that same boyish pink. he let out a soft chuckle, shrugging as if to shake off the embarrassment. “not yet,” he said, his voice carrying a teasing lilt. “but you never know when you might get lucky.” you rolled your eyes playfully, though you couldn’t help the slight warmth that spread through your chest at his words. he was flirting—lightly, but it was still there, lingering in the space between you like an unspoken possibility. you couldn’t quite tell if he was being serious or just trying to deflect the awkwardness of the situation, but either way, it was enough to make your own cheeks heat up.

jungkook’s eyes glinted with something unreadable as he prepared to remount his horse. you adjusted yourself, the strain of the long day suddenly hitting you with a wave of weariness. despite the comfort he offered with his presence, the lingering memory of his earlier remark about needing condoms made your cheeks flush involuntarily. the implications of that comment buzzed persistently in the back of your mind, and you tried to push them away as you gathered your composure.

“ready to head back?” his voice brought you back to the present. he was seated on his horse, looking at you with a casual yet attentive gaze. you forced yourself to nod, trying to sound more confident than you felt. “yeah, let’s go.” the two of you mounted the horse once more, and as you started riding, the rhythm of the horse’s steady gait beneath you began to soothe your frazzled nerves. the sun was in the sky, casting long, golden shadows over the deserted landscape. the air was cool, a welcome relief from the heat of the day, and you found yourself falling into a contemplative silence, your thoughts wandering as the miles of road stretched out before you.

jungkook’s earlier smirk lingered in your memory, and the memory of his flustered reaction when he revealed the condoms made your heart skip a beat. you caught yourself glancing over at him frequently, the way the fading sunlight highlighted the angles of his face, the way his eyes sometimes met yours with that playful glint. it was impossible not to think about what lay beneath the surface of those moments, to wonder if there was something more to his teasing.

as you neared seoul, a faint silhouette of a bar emerged in the distance. it was a solitary structure, seemingly untouched by the chaos that had engulfed the world. jungkook’s gaze followed yours, and he suddenly reined in his horse, bringing her to a halt. “hey, how about we stop there for a drink?” he suggested, pointing toward the bar with a casual nod. the sun was still hanging in the sky, its last light painting the horizon in shades of pink and orange. you looked at the bar, then back at him, a spark of curiosity igniting within you. “a drink? sounds like a good idea. we could use a break.”

he nodded approvingly and guided his horse toward the bar. you relaxed, the horse’s hooves clattering softly against the cracked pavement as you approached. he tied her to a nearby post and you both dismounted, the evening air cooler now that the sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky. the bar’s door creaked as you pushed it open, revealing a dimly lit interior. dust motes danced in the narrow beams of light that filtered through the grimy windows. the bar was exactly as you had expected—completely abandoned, with a thick layer of dust covering every surface. bottles of alcohol lined the shelves behind the bar, their labels faded and worn.

jungkook made his way behind the bar, his movements fluid and confident. he retrieved a bottle of whiskey and began to pour two glasses, the amber liquid catching the light in a rich, golden hue. you took a seat at the bar, watching as he expertly filled the glasses. “you know,” you said, trying to break the silence that had settled between you, “whiskey is such a male drink. i thought maybe you’d go for something a bit lighter.”

he scoffed, a teasing smile playing at his lips. “oh, so you’re used to soju bombs, are you? guess you haven’t had the pleasure of a good whiskey then.” you raised an eyebrow, your competitive spirit flaring up. “i bet i can drink more whiskey than you.”

jungkook’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he held up his glass in a mock toast. “you’re on. the bottle’s full, so it must be fate.” you clinked your glasses together, the sound ringing out in the empty bar, and took your first gulp. the whiskey burned pleasantly as it slid down your throat, a warming sensation spreading through you. you could feel the alcohol working its way into your system, dulling the edges of your fatigue and sharpening the edge of the challenge.

the two of you drank steadily, the glasses being refilled with practiced ease. the whiskey’s rich flavor grew stronger with each sip, and you both laughed and bantered, the earlier tension slowly dissipating. the initial competitive edge softened into a more relaxed camaraderie, though neither of you were willing to concede defeat.

hours passed in a blur of alcohol and laughter, the room growing dimmer as the night progressed. you both reached a point where even the act of lifting the glass seemed like an effort, the whiskey taking its toll on your senses. the bottle was nearly empty, and both of you were feeling the effects of the alcohol, your laughter becoming more carefree and your movements more languid. jungkook finally leaned back, his face flushed from the drink, and held up his glass in a final toast. “i think we can call it a tie,” he said with a grin, his voice slightly slurred but still cheerful. you nodded, your head spinning pleasantly as you set your glass down. “tie it is,” you agreed, your own voice feeling a bit unsteady.

with the competition settled, a comfortable silence settled between you. jungkook looked over at you, his expression softening as he took in the sight of you, sitting there with a tipsy smile on your face. “so,” you said, trying to sound casual as you leaned against the bar, “what did you mean earlier with the condoms? were you serious or just messing around?”

jungkook scratched the back of his neck, his expression thoughtful. “i’m not really sure. it was just something that came to mind.” you raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile on your lips. “i think you were being serious.”

he brushed off the comment with a wave of his hand. “maybe. or maybe i was just trying to be funny.” you leaned in closer, your heart pounding in your chest. the alcohol had loosened your inhibitions, and you found yourself closing the distance between you and jungkook, your breath mingling with his. “i think you weren't,” you whispered, your voice low and soft. his breath hitched, his eyes locking onto yours with a mixture of surprise and something else—something that was unmistakably desire. the space between you seemed to shrink until there was nothing left but the two of you and the charged air that surrounded you.

without another word, jungkook closed the distance, his lips crashing against yours in a heated, passionate kiss. it was sudden and intense, a mix of urgency and raw emotion that took you by surprise. his lips were warm and insistent, moving against yours with a fervor that left you breathless. you melted into the kiss, your body responding instinctively as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. the taste of whiskey lingered on his lips, mingling with the sweetness of his breath. the kiss deepened, his hands finding their way to your waist, holding you firmly as he pressed you against the bar. you weren't exactly sure what pushed you to do it, maybe it was the sheer fact that the world had come to an end. the world had ended, yet you two remained. maybe it really was fate.

his hands began to wander, slipping under your shirt to caress the bare skin of your back. you gasped into his mouth, arching into his touch as he pulled you closer. the friction between your bodies grew more pronounced as the kiss grew hungrier, his tongue tracing the line of your lower lip before delving into your mouth. his touch was gentle, almost reverent, and you felt your own desire beginning to build, a slow burn that spread through your body like wildfire. you broke the kiss, panting softly, your eyes searching his for any sign of hesitation. jungkook's gaze was filled with a raw, unbridled passion that left no room for doubt. “i want you,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust. “please, let me have you.”

you nodded, your own voice a whisper. “take me, have me.” it was truly all he needed to hear. his hands moved to the buttons of your shirt, deftly unbuttoning them one by one. your heart raced as he peeled it off, revealing your clothed tits. neither of you had attire on that would make a lasting impression, but neither of you seemed to care. his eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you, his thumbs brushing against the sensitive skin of your collarbone, sending shivers down your spine. “you really are pretty,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin.

you felt his hands move to the clasp of your bra, his fingers fumbling slightly with the unfamiliar mechanism. with a soft chuckle, you reached around and unhooked it yourself, letting the fabric fall away to reveal your bare tits. jungkook's eyes widened with awe, and he leaned in to kiss and nibble at your neck, making his way down to your chest. his mouth found your nipples, his teeth grazing against the sensitive flesh, allowing you to moan and arch into his touch.

his hands moved to cup your tits, his thumbs circling the stiff peaks as he continued to kiss and suckle. the sensation was overwhelming, sending waves of pleasure through your body. it had been a long time since you had done anything of the sort, and you could feel yourself growing wetter with every touch, your arousal building to a crescendo. “you like that?” he asked, his voice gruff and needy. you nodded, unable to form coherent words. “yes,” you managed to gasp out. “please don't stop.”

his hands slid down to your pants, unbuttoning them with the same urgent need. you stepped out of them, leaving you in just your underwear. jungkook took a step back, his eyes roaming over your body with an intensity that made you feel both exposed and desired. “i need to tell you something,” he said, his voice shaking slightly. “i've never done this before.”

you blinked in surprise. “you're a virgin?” he nodded, a hint of embarrassment coloring his cheeks. “yes,” he whispered. “but i want it to be with you.”

your heart swelled with affection and lust. “it's okay,” you assured him, taking his hand and leading him to a nearby table. “i'll make it good for you.” the world had ended, there was no reason not to. you didn't want to grow attached, you didn't want to attach yourself and love him during such a time, knowing he could slip away at any moment. but this was acceptable, you could let yourself have just the slightest of fun.

you sat on the edge of the table, your legs spread wide as jungkook stepped closer, his eyes locked onto yours. his hands found your panties, and with trembling fingers, he slid them down your legs. your breath caught in your throat as he knelt before you, his eyes traveling from your face to the apex of your thighs. “oh, fuck. you're so wet,” he murmured, his voice filled with wonder. you nodded, your voice a low moan. “touch me.”

his hands moved to your thighs, his fingers sliding up the soft skin before finally reaching your folds. he explored you tentatively, his touch feather-light as he traced your slit. you bit your lip, trying to keep the sounds of pleasure at bay. “like this?” he asked, his eyes searching yours for approval. you nodded, your voice a breathy whisper. “yes.”

his touch grew bolder, his fingers delving deeper, teasing your clit before sliding inside you. you threw your head back, the sensation of him filling you making you feel complete. “you're so tight,” he said, his voice filled with awe. “i don't wanna hurt you.” you reached down, taking his face in your hands. “you won't,” you assured him, your voice thick with desire. “just go slow.”

he nodded, his eyes never leaving yours as he slid one finger into your slick warmth, then two, moving them in a gentle rhythm that had your hips rocking against his hand. your moans grew louder, filling the empty bar with the sweet symphony of pleasure. his thumb found your clit, and he began to rub it in tight circles, his eyes watching as your expression grew more and more ecstatic. “you're so perfect,” he murmured, his voice filled with reverence. his movements grew more confident as he felt your body responding to his touch. your legs began to tremble, and you knew you were close to the edge. “right there,” you gasped, your voice strained. “don't stop.”

his fingers moved in a steady rhythm, his thumb pressing down with just the right amount of pressure as he continued to whisper dirty words into your ear. “you're gonna cum for me, aren't you?” he said, his voice low and rough. “you're gonna moan my name, yeah?” you could only nod, unable to form the right words as the orgasm built within you. jungkook leaned in, his mouth finding your nipple once again as he quickened his pace. the sensation was overwhelming, and with a sharp cry, you shattered, your body convulsing with pleasure. he held you through it, his gentle touch soothing you as the waves of ecstasy receded.

once your breathing had returned to normal, jungkook stood up, his eyes never leaving yours. “it's your turn,” you said, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. you slid off the table, pushing him down onto it instead. he watched as you unbuckled his pants, his eyes wide with anticipation. you could see his cock straining against the fabric of his boxers, the tip of it leaking enough to leave a stain, and your mouth watered at the sight.

you pulled his boxers down, his cock springing free. it was thick and long, the head a dark, angry red with need. “wow,” you murmured, genuinely impressed. jungkook blushed, his cheeks reddening even further. “i've never had anyone look at me like that before.” you leaned in, your breath hot against his skin as you took him in your mouth. his moan was music to your ears, and you began to suck, your tongue swirling around the tip as you took him deeper. his hands found your hair, gripping it tightly as he thrust his hips upwards, his body responding instinctively to the pleasure you were giving him.

you could feel his cock twitch and throb with every suck and lick, his muscles tensing as he grew closer to the edge. “i'm gonna cum,” he whimpered, his voice tight with restraint. you pulled back, giving him a wicked smile. “not yet,” you whispered, standing up to straddle him. “i wanna feel you inside me.”

you reached into his bag, pulling out one of the condoms he had bought earlier. jungkook watched with hooded eyes as you tore the packet open with your teeth and rolled it onto his erection. “are you sure?” he asked, his voice hoarse. you nodded, your eyes never leaving his. “more than anything.”

slowly, you lowered yourself onto him, feeling him stretch and fill you completely. jungkook's eyes rolled back in his head as he groaned, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “fuck, you're so tight,” he hissed. you took a moment to adjust to the feeling, your body clenching around him. then, with a gasp, you began to ride him, your movements slow and deliberate at first, building up speed as you grew more comfortable. his hands roamed your body, cupping your tits and squeezing your ass as he whispered dirty words into your ear, urging you to go faster, harder.

the friction between your bodies grew intense, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the bar. his grip tightened, his hips bucking up to meet yours as he reached his own climax, his body taut with pleasure. for a second, you wished he hadn't been so quick to buy the condoms, but it was the safer route. it was the route that assured you both you wouldn't be bringing any more children into the mess that claimed the world. it didn't matter, not with that look on his face. the gaping of his mouth, his eyes rolling into the back of his head with his hair plastered to his forehead. you had ruined him, and he had never been more grateful.

you collapsed onto him, your chest heaving as you both tried to catch your breath. his voice was a mix of satisfaction and disbelief. “that was—” he trailed off, unable to find the words to describe the intensity of the experience. you smiled, feeling a sense of pride in the way you had brought him to such a powerful release. “are you okay?” you asked, peeling yourself off of him gently. he nodded, his eyes still closed as he savored the feeling. “better than okay,” he murmured. “that was amazing.”

you chuckled, the sound echoing in the quiet bar. “you're not so bad for a first-timer,” you teased, leaning in to kiss him softly. his eyes snapped open, a mischievous glint in them. “you think?” he said, his voice low and playful. “maybe we should practice some more.”

you rolled your eyes, but the idea was tempting. the chemistry between you was palpable, and the desire hadn't waned even after the intense climax. “maybe we should get going,” you suggested, glancing out the window at the darkened sky. “it's getting late.” jungkook nodded reluctantly, his arms still wrapped around your waist. “yeah, we should.” he opened his eyes and looked around the room, the reality of their situation crashing back down on him.

the ride back to seoul was quiet, the rhythmic clip-clop of the horse’s hooves the only sound as you and jungkook traveled through the darkening landscape. the cool night air was a stark contrast to the warmth you had shared earlier, and your thoughts churned restlessly, replaying the intensity of the everything that had gone down, the sudden shift in your feelings. jungkook rode with a steady, focused demeanor, his presence a comforting anchor against the backdrop of the encroaching night.

the distant growling began as a faint, unsettling noise, like a distant echo of something primal and hungry. you exchanged a worried glance with him, but he merely tightened his grip on the reins and urged the horse onward. you both chose to ignore it, hoping it was merely the result of your overactive imaginations and the eerie quiet of the world that had fallen into disarray. as you approached the campsite, the familiar shapes of the makeshift shelters and tents came into view, their silhouettes dark against the twilight sky. jungkook guided the horse through the gate, and you dismounted with a sense of relief that you had made it back safely.

“we’re back,” jungkook called out as you both entered the campsite. hani’s face lit up with a mixture of joy and relief as she spotted you. “you’re back! thank god!” she rushed over, her eyes wide with gratitude.

jimin, too, looked visibly relieved, though his face was a mask of exhaustion. “you made it. i was getting worried.” taehyung, however, remained unfazed, his expression impassive as he observed the scene. his indifference only served to heighten your anxiety as you noticed the tension in the air.

hoseok emerged from one of the tents, holding hera’s small hand in his own. the sight of her, safe and sound, was a balm to your worried heart. but before you could fully relax, a guttural, menacing snarl cut through the evening air. the sound was unmistakably close, and a cold knot of fear tightened in your stomach. you turned to jungkook, panic rising in your chest. “we need to arm everyone.” his face hardened with urgency as he nodded. “get everyone ready.”

you dashed around the campsite, shouting instructions and grabbing weapons. the atmosphere was charged with tension as people scrambled to arm themselves, their faces mirroring your own fear. your eyes darted around, trying to assess the situation and protect those you cared about. but it was already too late. from the shadows emerged a horde of grotesque, nightmarish creatures, their forms twisted and deformed. they moved with a terrifying speed and hunger, their eyes glowing with malevolent intent. the campsite erupted into chaos as the creatures lunged forward, their growls and shrieks filling the air.

you shouted commands, urging everyone to defend themselves, but the creatures showed no mercy. the battle was brutal and swift. amid the confusion, you spotted hera, her small frame trembling as she looked around in terror. your heart ached with a primal urge to protect her. as you tried to reach her, a creature—larger and more vicious than the rest—seized her, pinning her to the ground with a savage grip. your breath caught in your throat as you saw its fangs sink into her throat. the sight was a gut-wrenching horror that rendered you momentarily paralyzed, your body frozen in shock.

hera’s eyes met yours, wide and filled with a silent, desperate plea. her mouth moved, forming a wordless scream as the creature ripped her throat open. blood poured from her wound, staining the dirt beneath her. the sound of her choking, gasping breaths was the only thing you could focus on, and you felt as though time had stopped. tears streamed down your face as you finally broke free from your paralysis. you scrambled toward her, your movements frantic and disoriented. the world around you seemed to blur as you tried to reach her, but the reality of her injury was too harsh, too immediate.

the creature was still there, its grotesque form looming over hera’s bleeding body. with a surge of desperation, you raised your gun and fired, the shot ringing out sharply. the creature’s head jerked back, its body convulsing before collapsing lifelessly. the noise of gunfire and the dying howls of the creatures were all that punctuated the silence that followed. the campsite fell eerily quiet, everyone pausing to process the horrifying scene. your eyes remained locked on hera’s dying form, her body growing still. the sight of her lying there, the sister you had fought so hard to find, was a brutal twist of fate.

hani was sobbing uncontrollably, her cries echoing the agony you felt inside. even taehyung, usually so composed, had turned his back, unable to watch the tragedy unfold. the world seemed to collapse around you as you knelt beside hera, your hands trembling as you fumbled with your medical supplies. “help me,” you pleaded, your voice cracking as you reached out for the medicine.

jungkook was quick to respond, his own eyes red-rimmed with tears as he brought the supplies to you. the urgency of the moment did nothing to calm your frayed nerves. you worked frantically, tearing open gauze and pouring rubbing alcohol, but deep down, you knew it was too late. hera’s hand weakly grasped yours, her gaze meeting yours with a mixture of sadness and resignation. “stop,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “it’s too late.”

you refused to accept it, your hands continuing to work despite the futility of the task. “no, baby. we can’t give up. i’m here. i’m here with you.”

her eyes were glazed with pain and exhaustion. her breaths were shallow, and she struggled to keep her eyes open. “i love you,” she said, her voice barely a breath. “i’m glad you found me.”

tears streamed down your face as you brushed the blood and hair from her pale face. you held her close, whispering apologies and begging her to hold on. “please, hera. don’t leave me. i need you.”

she weakly shook her head, her strength waning. “kill me,” she said softly, her voice cracking with the effort. “i can’t become one of them.”

you clutched her tighter, your heart breaking at her words. “no, hera, you can’t leave me. not like this.”

with one final tear slipping down her cheek, her eyes fluttered closed. her body went limp in your arms, and you felt an overwhelming wave of despair crash over you. the finality of her death was a cruel blow, and you were left holding her lifeless body, your cries echoing through the night. jungkook tried to hold you back as you thrashed and sobbed, his own tears mingling with yours as he watched helplessly. your hands, stained with blood, covered your face and clothes as you shook her body, pleading for her to wake up.

hoseok and jimin were distraught, their faces pale and their eyes filled with anguish. hani’s sobs were inconsolable, her grief visible as she tried to comfort you. taehyung had his back turned, unable to bear the sight of the tragedy unfolding before him. in the midst of the grief, you felt as though you had lost everything. the weight of hera’s death, the cruel twist of fate, and the relentless reality of the world you were living in all combined into a suffocating darkness that threatened to swallow you whole. the campsite was silent except for the sound of your sobs and the occasional, haunting howl in the distance. you were left with nothing but the shattered remnants of your hopes and dreams, the loss of your sister, and the overwhelming sense of defeat. the world outside might have been a barren wasteland, but inside, you felt as though you were drowning in an ocean of despair.

jungkook’s voice broke through the haze of your grief, desperate and choked with tears. “please, calm down. please, i’m begging you.” his hands were on your shoulders, trembling as he tried to steady you, but your sobs were uncontrollable, your body trembling with the force of your anguish. his words were like a distant echo in your ears, barely registering over the cacophony of your own despair. you had searched for hera for so long, through countless days and sleepless nights, through blood and fear, clinging to the hope that she was still alive, that you could save her. you loved her all your life, protected her, and now, after finally finding her, she was gone. ripped away from you in the cruelest twist of fate.

“please,” he whispered again, his voice breaking. “please, just breathe.” slowly, painfully, you began to calm, though the tears continued to flow unchecked down your cheeks. the sound of your ragged breaths filled the air, the only thing grounding you to the moment. but it wasn’t enough. nothing could be enough. how could it be, when you had lost everything?

jimin’s hand on your shoulder was a gentle weight, his touch warm and full of sorrow. “i’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. his presence was meant to comfort, but instead, it only deepened the ache in your chest. the weight of your new reality began to sink in, a heavy, suffocating pressure that left you gasping for air. you looked down at hera’s lifeless body, her face pale and peaceful, as if she were merely sleeping. but the truth was undeniable. she was gone, and there was nothing you could do to change that. the sight of her, so small and fragile in your arms, made your heart shatter all over again.

with a trembling hand, you reached for your gun, the metal cold against your skin. the others watched in stunned silence, their eyes wide with shock as they realized what you were about to do. but you couldn’t let her turn into one of those things, the very creatures that had stolen her life. you held the gun in both hands, your fingers shaking as you aimed it at her head. time seemed to slow, each breath you took feeling like it could be your last. the silence was deafening, every sound muffled by the pounding of your heart in your ears.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice cracking with the weight of your sorrow. “i’m so sorry, baby.” and then, with a sharp intake of breath, you pulled the trigger.

the gunshot rang out, a deafening sound that echoed through the campsite. everyone flinched, their expressions frozen in shock and horror as they stared at you. the gun fell from your hand, clattering to the ground with a hollow thud. your hand, now free, moved to cradle her head once more. you gazed down at her, the reality of what you had done settling over you like a shroud. you weren’t going to let her turn into the monster that killed her. you had saved her from that fate, but the cost was too high, too unbearable. she was still warm in your arms, her body unmoving, and the finality of it all was like a dagger to your heart.

hoseok wiped away his own tears, his face drawn with grief. hani was beside herself, her sobs uncontrollable as she clung to hoseok for support. even taehyung, who had tried so hard to remain detached, took one final, shocked look before turning away, retreating from the sight that was too much for him to bear. jungkook wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close as he pressed a tender kiss to the top of your head. “i’m so sorry,” he murmured, his voice thick with tears. “i’m so, so sorry.”

you were silent, the words trapped in your throat, too tangled with your grief to form a coherent response. his embrace was warm, comforting, but it did little to soothe the storm raging inside you. all you could do was sit there, holding hera’s lifeless body in your arms, the world around you fading into the background.

the night passed in a blur, the hours bleeding into one another as you remained by hera’s side. the others drifted in and out, their faces etched with grief and helplessness. they didn’t know what to say, how to comfort you in a moment like this. what words could possibly bring solace when the world had stolen everything from you?

the sky gradually lightened, the first rays of dawn creeping over the horizon. but you didn’t move, couldn’t bring yourself to leave her side. her body had grown cold in your arms, but still, you held on, as if by doing so, you could keep a part of her with you, keep her from slipping away completely. jungkook stayed with you throughout the night, his presence a silent comfort. he didn’t try to make you speak, didn’t force you to move. he simply sat with you, his hand resting on your shoulder, a steady, grounding force in the midst of your grief.

as the sun finally broke over the horizon, casting a golden light over the camp, you looked down at hera one last time. her face, once so full of life, was now still, peaceful in a way that tore at your heart. you had lost everything, but in this final moment, you made a silent vow to keep her memory alive, to carry her with you, no matter what. “goodbye, hera,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “i love you.”

the last of your strength seemed to leave you. you slumped forward, your forehead resting against hera’s, your tears mingling with the cold morning air. the world felt impossibly heavy, the weight of your loss almost too much to bear. but somehow, you knew you had to keep going. for her. for the others who still needed you. for the memory of everything you had lost.

with movements slow and deliberate, you extricated yourself from her lifeless body, the coldness of her skin a final reminder of what you had lost. as you stood, the world around you felt distant, like you were moving through a fog. your eyes, still swollen and bloodshot from the tears that had finally stopped falling, stared blankly at the campsite. the others were beginning to stir, their exhaustion evident in every movement, but your mind was already made up.

you approached the pile of weapons with a determined stride, your hands reaching out to begin loading the guns. the mechanical nature of the task gave your hands something to do, something to focus on other than the pain that threatened to swallow you whole. clip after clip, you loaded each gun with a practiced ease, your fingers moving with a steady, unfeeling precision.

one by one, the others awoke, their eyes settling on you, unsure of what to say, too afraid to ask if you were okay. the air was thick with the tension of unspoken words, the grief that hung over all of you like a heavy cloud. they could see the change in you, the hardening of your features, the way your hands moved with a purpose that bordered on obsession. they didn’t know how to approach you now, how to reach out to the person who had been broken so thoroughly the night before.

jungkook was the first to find his voice, his concern for you overriding his own grief. “what are you doing?” he asked, his voice soft, careful, as if he were afraid of pushing you too far. you didn’t look at him as you continued to load the guns, your voice cold and distant as you replied, “we need to relocate. the fences, they’re not doing their job. we’re not safe here.”

hoseok spoke up, his tone cautious. “are you sure that’s a good idea? where would we even go?” you shrugged, the motion stiff and mechanical, your face devoid of any emotion as you finally met his eyes. “i don’t care what you do. stay here if you want. but i’m leaving. with or without you.”

the bluntness of your words left everyone taken aback. they exchanged worried glances, the shift in your demeanor more shocking than anything they had seen from you before. but none of them could question it. none of them dared to. they all knew why you were like this, understood the depth of your pain, even if they couldn’t fully grasp the extent of it. jungkook stepped forward, his heart breaking at the sight of you. the dried tears on your cheeks, the bloodstains on your skin, the hollow look in your eyes—it was too much for him to bear. gently, he took your hands in his, trying to offer some comfort, though he knew it was a small, almost meaningless gesture in the face of what you had lost.

“we’ll go with you,” he said softly, his voice full of a sadness that matched your own. he squeezed your hands, hoping to offer some small reassurance. “we’ll all go with you.” the others murmured in agreement, their resolve firm even in the face of the unknown. they would follow you, wherever you went. there was no question in their minds. they couldn’t leave you alone, not after everything that had happened.

with everyone in agreement, the mood shifted from grief to grim determination. they began to pack up what little they had, the weight of the previous night still hanging heavily over them. the silence was thick, broken only by the sounds of their movements as they prepared to leave the campsite that had been their home, if only for a brief moment in time. you didn’t say anything more as you continued your work, your hands moving with a detached efficiency. when everything was ready, the group mounted the horses, each person somber, their minds weighed down by the events of the night. jungkook helped you onto the horse you would share, his hands lingering on your waist as if he were afraid you might slip away. you didn’t meet his eyes, your gaze fixed on something far off in the distance, beyond the pain, beyond the reality of your new life.

the campsite was a ghost of what it had been, the memories of the past days haunting the empty spaces. as you prepared to leave, you couldn’t help but take one last look, your eyes sweeping over the area that had once offered a fleeting sense of safety. and then your gaze fell on hera. her body, now cold and lifeless, lay where you had left it, a stark reminder of the cruelty of this world. your heart twisted in your chest, a fresh wave of grief crashing over you, but you couldn’t look away. you owed her that much.

for a moment, it felt as if time had stopped. the sounds around you faded away, the world shrinking down to just you and her. it was as if you were back in that nightmarish moment, the sight of her blood, the way her eyes had pleaded with you in those final, agonizing seconds. you couldn’t look anymore. it was too much. with a sharp intake of breath, you tore your eyes away, focusing on the path ahead. you felt jungkook’s hand tighten around yours as the horse began to move, carrying you away from the campsite, away from the memories that would haunt you for the rest of your life.

the woods loomed ahead like a dense, impenetrable wall, the trees casting long shadows in the early morning light. the air was thick with the smell of damp earth and the faint rustle of leaves, but the only sound that really registered in your mind was the steady thud of the horses’ hooves against the ground. no one spoke as you rode deeper into the forest, each of you lost in your thoughts, the silence heavy with the weight of your collective grief.

you didn’t know where you were going. none of you did. the destination didn’t matter. all that mattered was putting as much distance between you and the horror you had left behind. it was as if fate itself had taken the reins, guiding you into the unknown, toward whatever cruel end awaited you.

the horses, sensing the tension, began to grow restless. their movements became erratic, their heads tossing, their ears twitching in every direction. it was a sign—a warning that something was wrong. you could feel it too, a tightening in your chest, a prickle of unease at the nape of your neck. the others noticed as well, their hands tightening on the reins, their eyes scanning the surrounding trees for any sign of danger. then, you saw them.

they emerged from the shadows like phantoms, their forms shifting and blurring between human and something far more sinister. there were three of them, each one more terrifying than the last. their bodies were gaunt, stretched tight over bones that jutted out at unnatural angles, their faces twisted in a grotesque parody of hunger. their eyes glowed with a malevolent light, focused entirely on you and your group. hani gasped, the sound sharp and piercing in the silence, and your heart thudded painfully in response. jungkook, always ready to take charge, turned in his saddle, his voice rising in a barked command that cut through the tension like a knife. “get ready—”

but it was too late. the command was swallowed by the rush of blood in your ears, by the wave of anger that surged through you like a wildfire. the sight of them—those creatures, those monsters—brought it all back. the image of hera, broken and bloodied, flashed before your eyes, and all the fear that should have paralyzed you turned into something far more dangerous. you swung your legs off the horse with a fluid motion, the ground solid beneath your boots as you strode forward. the others called out to you, their voices edged with panic, but you didn’t hear them. all you could hear was the pounding of your own heartbeat, the roar of blood in your veins as you reached for your gun, steadying it in your hands.

you aimed, the barrel of the gun unwavering as you locked onto your targets. the first shot rang out, a deafening crack that echoed through the trees. the bullet struck the first creature squarely in the heart. it howled in pain, its body convulsing as it fell to the ground, but you knew it wasn’t dead. not yet. another shot, and then another. three shots, three hits. each one found its mark, burying itself deep in the chests of the creatures. they writhed on the ground, their howls of agony filling the air, but you felt no satisfaction. no relief. the rage inside you burned hotter, brighter, until it was all you could feel.

“shut the fuck up,” you snarled as if it could understand you, the words slipping from your lips like venom as you approached the first creature. its eyes, once so full of malice, were now wide with fear, its body trembling as you closed the distance between you.

without hesitation, you dropped to your knees, your hands wrapping around its throat. its fur was cold and clammy beneath your fingers, its pulse weak and fluttering as it struggled against you. you squeezed harder, your grip like iron as you watched the life drain from its eyes, your own breath coming in harsh, ragged gasps. it clawed at your hands, its strength waning as the light began to fade from its gaze. the world around you faded as well, the voices of your companions drowned out by the pounding of your heart. all that mattered was the creature in front of you, the way its body convulsed, the way its breaths turned into shallow gasps, then to silence. and then it was still.

you didn’t hesitate, didn’t stop to think as you pressed the barrel of your gun against its temple. the shot was deafening, the sound tearing through the quiet of the forest. the creature’s body jerked once, then went limp, its eyes now nothing but empty, lifeless sockets. you let the gun drop to your side as you rose to your feet, your legs unsteady beneath you. the second creature was still howling in pain, its voice a pitiful wail that grated on your nerves. you couldn’t stand it—couldn’t stand the sound of its suffering, couldn’t stand the reminder of the pain these things had caused.

you stalked over to it, your boots crunching on the fallen leaves as you drew closer. it looked up at you, its eyes wide with a mix of fear and something else—something almost like pleading. but you had no sympathy left to give. with a single, brutal motion, you kicked it in the ribs, the force of the blow sending it sprawling onto its back. the howl turned into a whimper, the creature curling in on itself as if trying to escape the pain. but there was no escape. not from you.

you kicked it again, harder this time, feeling the bones crack beneath the force of your boot. the whimpering grew softer, weaker, until it was little more than a pathetic whine. the sound filled you with a twisted sense of satisfaction, a dark pleasure in knowing that it was suffering—that it felt even a fraction of the pain you carried with you. but it wasn’t enough. it would never be enough. you raised your gun once more, aiming it directly between the creature’s eyes. the whimpering stopped as it looked up at you, its gaze filled with a terror that was almost human. almost. the shot was quick, clean. the creature’s head snapped back, its body going limp, and the forest fell silent once more.

you took a step back, your breath coming in harsh gasps as you tried to steady yourself. but there was no time for rest. the third creature was still alive, still watching you with those same hungry eyes, though now they were tinged with fear. you crouched beside it, your expression hardening as you met its gaze. It whimpered, its body shaking as it tried to crawl away, but you were faster. with a quick, practiced motion, you drew your knife, the blade glinting in the dim light as you held it up for the creature to see.

“please,” it rasped, its voice barely more than a whisper, the sound twisted and distorted as it tried to form words. but there was no mercy in you, not anymore.

you leaned in close, feigning a look of sympathy, your voice low and cold as you whispered, “you don’t get to beg.”

with that, you drove the knife into its throat, the blade sinking deep into its flesh. blood spurted from the wound, the creature’s body convulsing as it tried to fight, but you held it down, your grip like iron. you twisted the knife, the motion slow and deliberate, watching as the life drained from its eyes. the final breath rattled in its chest, its body slumping against the ground as the last of its strength left it. but you didn’t stop. you couldn’t. the anger still burned hot and fierce inside you, demanding more, demanding blood. with a final, brutal motion, you pulled the knife from its throat and drove it into its skull, the blade sinking deep into bone. the creature shuddered once, then went still, its eyes staring blankly at the sky above.

for a moment, you simply crouched there, your breath coming in harsh, ragged gasps as you stared at the bodies before you. the silence was deafening, the forest around you eerily quiet as if it, too, were holding its breath. when you finally stood, your hands were trembling, the knife still slick with blood as you wiped it on your jeans. the others were staring at you, their faces a mix of horror, sympathy, and something else—something you couldn’t quite name.

you couldn’t meet their eyes, couldn’t bear to see the pity, the fear, the judgment. all you could do was focus on the task at hand, on the steps you needed to take to keep moving forward. without a word, you turned and walked back to the horse, your legs feeling like lead as you moved. you mounted with stiff, mechanical movements, your mind still reeling from the violence, from the anger that had consumed you.

jungkook’s eyes met yours, his gaze filled with a deep, heartbreaking sympathy that made your chest tighten with a fresh wave of pain. he opened his mouth to speak, to say something—anything—but you didn’t give him the chance. “keep going,” you said, your voice flat, devoid of emotion. It was all you could manage. all you could allow yourself to feel. he hesitated, his hand reaching out to you as if he could offer some comfort, but you pulled away, your gaze fixed on the path ahead. there was no comfort to be found. no solace. only the cold, hard reality of survival.

the forest enveloped you in an overwhelming silence, the only sound the steady rhythm of hooves against the earth. each beat echoed in your mind, matching the hollow thudding of your heart. the trees closed in like towering sentinels, their branches interlocking overhead, casting flickering shadows across the path. the air was cool, but you felt nothing—no bite of the wind, no comfort in the shade. just numbness, a void where your thoughts should have been.

jungkook’s hand rested on your waist as he rode behind you, a gentle, anchoring touch that would have once brought comfort. now, it was simply another weight, another reminder of the world you inhabited—a world where tenderness was a luxury you couldn’t afford. his fingers pressed lightly, as if he were afraid you might break under the pressure, but you didn’t react. your body was there, solid and real, but your mind was adrift, lost in the aftermath of what you had just done.

you could feel the others behind you, their presence like shadows at your back, silent and heavy. no one dared to speak. not after what they had seen. they were with you, but they were alone in their thoughts, just as you were. perhaps they were trying to process the same thing—how you could have shifted so easily into that cold, ruthless killer, the one who had looked those monsters in the eyes and ended their lives without hesitation.

but none of that mattered now. the silence stretched on, growing thicker with each passing moment, until it became a tangible force, pressing down on you from all sides. even the forest seemed to hold its breath, the usual rustle of leaves and distant calls of birds eerily absent. there was nothing but the sound of hooves, the creak of leather, and the faint, steady breathing of the horses. jungkook’s hand tightened slightly, his thumb brushing against your side in a way that was meant to be soothing, but you barely registered it. his presence was a distant hum in the back of your mind, overshadowed by the cold, creeping numbness that had taken hold of you. your eyes were fixed ahead, unseeing, as the path stretched on endlessly before you.

then, something broke through the haze—a shape, emerging from the blur of trees and shadow. it was faint at first, a dark silhouette on the horizon, but as you drew closer, it solidified, taking form. your mind, sluggish and detached, struggled to make sense of it. it was a building, large and foreboding, its outlines jagged and stark against the sky. a prison. the word came to you slowly, sinking into the fog that clouded your thoughts. the horses sensed it too, their ears perking up, their pace quickening as if drawn by some unseen force. they moved with purpose, their steps more certain, more eager, as if they understood that place, that prison, held something you all needed.

the structure loomed ahead, its towering walls and barbed wire fences a stark contrast to the natural chaos of the forest. it was massive, a relic of a world long gone, its gray stone walls cracked and weathered with age. the gate, once a barrier meant to keep the world out—or perhaps to keep something in—hung open, its iron bars twisted and rusted, as if time itself had worn them down. the closer you got, the more you could see—the high, watchful towers that stood like sentinels at each corner, the shattered windows that gaped like empty eyes, the overgrown courtyard where weeds had taken root, choking out any trace of order. the place was abandoned, long forgotten, but it still held an air of menace, a lingering aura of despair and violence.

you slowed the horse as you neared the entrance, the others doing the same, their eyes fixed on the structure with a mix of caution and curiosity. that place, as desolate and grim as it appeared, offered something you desperately needed—shelter, security, the promise of walls that could protect you from whatever else lurked in the shadows. as you dismounted, the ground felt solid beneath your boots, grounding you in reality once more. the numbness receded just enough for you to focus, to take in the details with a cold, calculating eye. you led your horse to a nearby post, tying the reins with quick, practiced movements. the others followed suit, their actions mirroring yours as they secured their mounts.

the horses, sensing the tension, stamped their hooves and snorted, but they remained obedient, their heads lowered as if understanding the gravity of the moment. you gave the horse a brief, absent-minded pat before stepping away, your eyes sweeping over the entrance to the prison. the gate creaked as you pushed it open wider, the sound jarring in the quiet. It swung inward with a groan of protest, revealing a long, narrow corridor that led deeper into the compound. the walls on either side were tall and imposing, lined with cracked tiles and the remnants of old posters that had long since faded into obscurity. the air was thick with the scent of decay and mildew, a stale odor that spoke of years of neglect.

you moved forward, your steps slow and deliberate, each footfall echoing in the stillness. the others trailed behind you, their footsteps mingling with yours as you made your way into the heart of the prison. your eyes darted from side to side, taking in every detail—the rusted chains that hung from the walls, the empty cells with their iron bars twisted and broken, the remnants of a life that had once thrived here but was now long gone.

everywhere you looked, there were signs of violence, of desperation. the walls were scarred with deep gouges, as if someone had tried to claw their way out. the floors were stained with dark patches that might have been blood, long dried and faded. you passed by a cell where the door hung ajar, its hinges broken, the interior filled with debris—tattered blankets, discarded shoes, a single, withered plant that had somehow managed to grow in the darkness.

it was a place of death, of suffering, and yet, it felt safer than the world outside. there, within these walls, there was a sense of control, of containment. you could fortify this place, make it a stronghold against whatever else the world had to throw at you. you reached the center of the compound, a large, open courtyard surrounded by high walls and barbed wire. the ground was cracked and uneven, littered with debris—broken glass, twisted metal, the remnants of old fires. a few scattered pieces of furniture, rotted and sagging, hinted at attempts to make this place livable once, though those efforts had clearly failed.

jungkook was beside you now, his presence steady and calm, though you could feel the tension radiating off him. his eyes swept over the courtyard, taking in the same details you did, his mind likely working through the same calculations. he said nothing, but his hand found yours, his fingers curling around yours in a gesture of solidarity. the others spread out, moving through the space with cautious steps, their eyes wide as they took in their new surroundings. hani moved to the edge of the courtyard, peering into one of the cells with a wary expression. hoseok crouched down beside a rusted metal drum, his fingers tracing the outline of a handprint left in the dust. jimin and taehyung exchanged a glance, their unease mirrored in the set of their shoulders, but they said nothing, their eyes turning back to you for guidance.

you let out a slow breath, your chest tightening with a mix of dread and determination. it was awful. It reeked of death, of hopelessness. and yet, it was the best chance you had. the best chance to survive, to regroup, to find some semblance of safety in a world that had long since forgotten what that word meant. finally, you broke the silence, your voice rough and low as you addressed the group. “this is it,” you said, the words hanging in the air like a final judgment. “we’ll stay here tonight. we’ll fortify the place, make it secure. then, we’ll decide what to do next.”

there was no argument, no protest. they all knew there was no other option. the forest outside was filled with unknown threats, with dangers that would only grow more relentless as time went on. there, at least, you had walls. you had a chance. you turned back to the entrance, your mind already running through the tasks that needed to be done. the gate needed to be secured, the cells checked for any remaining threats. you’d need to set up a watch, make sure the perimeter was safe, that there were no weak points.

as the night began to descend upon the old prison, the air grew heavy with the scent of damp stone and lingering decay. the others had already set to work, driven by a desperate need to create some semblance of normalcy in a world that had long since abandoned it. the courtyard had become a flurry of activity, each person taking on a task that required their full attention, their minds focused on survival rather than the dark thoughts that threatened to creep in.

hoseok and jimin worked together to clear a space in one of the larger cells, dragging out rusted debris and sweeping away the layers of dust and grime that had settled over the years. they spoke in low voices, their words too quiet to make out, but the tension in their movements said enough. every now and then, they’d glance over at you, concern etched into their features, but they knew better than to interrupt.

jungkook busied himself with securing the entrance, his eyes sharp and calculating as he inspected the gate’s hinges and the surrounding walls. he moved with purpose, his hands steady as he reinforced the gate with whatever materials he could find—broken pipes, pieces of metal, anything that could act as a barrier against whatever might come. the others kept glancing his way, silently reassured by his presence, by the way he took control without hesitation.

hani had found a small room off to the side, the remnants of an old kitchen. she set about scavenging through the drawers and cupboards, hoping to find anything useful—canned goods, old utensils, anything that could be repurposed. her face was set in a determined frown, but you could see the faint glimmer of hope in her eyes when she found a few tins of food that had somehow remained unspoiled. taehyung was quieter than usual, his movements deliberate as he helped the others, but his eyes kept drifting your way. there was something in his gaze, a mixture of guilt and something else you couldn’t quite place. he was more subdued, his usual sharp remarks replaced with silence, his energy focused on the tasks at hand.

you couldn’t stay inside any longer. the walls, though protective, felt too close, too stifling, pressing in on you with memories of what you’d done. you stepped outside, into the open air of the courtyard, and let the cool breeze wash over you. It was a small relief, but enough to steady your racing heart, if only for a moment. as dusk settled over the prison, painting the sky in hues of deep purple and inky black, you shakily pulled a cigarette from your pocket, your fingers trembling as you fumbled with the lighter. the first inhale was harsh, burning your throat, but the familiar taste brought with it a sense of grounding, something to cling to amidst the chaos.

but then you looked down. the sight of your hands, stained with dried blood, sent a wave of nausea through you. the blood wasn’t yours— it was theirs, the creatures you’d killed without hesitation, without mercy. but there was also her blood, the remnants of your sister’s final moments clinging to your skin like a cruel reminder. you almost couldn’t bear it. the cigarette trembled between your fingers, and for a moment, you considered throwing it away, letting it burn out on the cold, hard ground. but then you heard the sound of footsteps behind you, soft and hesitant, and you stiffened, instinctively preparing yourself for another confrontation, another fight.

but when you turned, it wasn’t an enemy standing there. it was taehyung. his expression was unreadable, but there was no hostility in his eyes, no anger or judgment. instead, he was holding out a small, crumpled tissue, the corners of his lips pulled into a faint, almost apologetic smile. “here,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. you stared at the tissue for a moment, surprised by the gesture, by the softness in his gaze. slowly, reluctantly, you took it from him, your fingers brushing against his briefly as you did. the tissue felt small and insignificant in your hand, but you appreciated the thought behind it. silently, you wiped at the blood on your hands, though it did little to erase the stains that had already seeped into your soul.

in a quiet act of solidarity, you reached into your pocket and pulled out another cigarette, offering it to him along with the lighter. he hesitated for a second, then took it, his fingers steady as he lit the cigarette and took a long drag. the two of you stood there in silence, the night settling around you, the quiet only broken by the distant sounds of the others moving inside the prison. it wasn’t until the cigarettes were nearly burned to the filter that taehyung finally spoke, his voice low and rough, “i’m sorry.”

the words hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. you turned to look at him, your eyes searching his face for some hint of what he was thinking, but all you saw was a strange mixture of guilt and sorrow. “it took my sister dying for you to be nice to me, is that it?” the words slipped out before you could stop them, harsh and bitter. but they were true, and you couldn’t bring yourself to regret them.

he didn’t flinch, didn’t look away. Instead, he held your gaze, the faint lines of exhaustion and pain evident in his expression. for a long moment, he said nothing, and you thought he might leave, but then he shook his head slowly. “no,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “i envied you.”

you blinked, taken aback by the admission. “you envied me?” you echoed, unable to hide the disbelief in your voice. “why?”

“because you found her,” he said simply, the words heavy with a sadness that cut through the quiet. “you found your sister. i found my brother, but not in the same way.”

there was a long pause, the weight of his words sinking in. you turned to fully face him, your heart tightening with a mix of emotions you couldn’t quite name. “what do you mean?” you asked, though you weren’t sure if you really wanted to hear the answer.

taehyung stared down at the ground, his cigarette burning down to the filter, the ember glowing softly in the fading light. “i found him, but he had already turned into a skinwalker by then.” the revelation hit you like a punch to the gut. your breath caught in your throat as the full weight of what he was saying settled in. the horror of it, the unimaginable pain he must have felt, it was too much. but you didn’t interrupt, didn’t say anything, just waited as he continued, his voice breaking slightly as he spoke.

“i looked that thing dead in the eye and knew it was him,” he murmured, his voice trembling. “there was nothing left of the brother i knew, just hunger. the same hunger you saw tonight.” he paused, swallowing hard before he continued. “i had to take his life, the same way you had to take hera’s.”

for a moment, neither of you said anything, the silence stretching between you like an unspoken understanding. you felt a pang of sympathy, a deep, aching sadness for the pain he had endured, for the burden he had carried alone. “i’m sorry,” you whispered, the words inadequate but sincere. taehyung shook his head, a small, bitter smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “don’t be,” he said softly. “if he had lived, i think he would’ve gotten along with her.”

the unexpected tenderness in his voice caught you off guard, and for a brief moment, you allowed yourself to imagine it—your sister and taehyung’s brother, alive and well, laughing and joking together in a world that wasn’t torn apart by monsters and death. it was a fleeting thought, one that was quickly swallowed by the harsh reality of your situation, but it was enough to bring a small, sad smile to your lips. but the moment passed, and you were once again reminded of the blood on your hands, the lives you had taken, the sister you had lost. your hands began to tremble again, the cigarette slipping from your fingers and falling to the ground, smoldering in the dirt. you stared down at them, the tremors growing stronger, the weight of everything crashing down on you all at once.

taehyung noticed. he reached out, gently taking your hands in his, his touch warm and grounding. “don’t detach,” he said quietly, his voice firm but kind. “not yet. the group needs you.”

his words, simple as they were, cut through the fog of despair that threatened to overwhelm you. you met his gaze, seeing the sincerity, the understanding in his eyes. he wasn’t just asking you to stay present for the group’s sake—he was asking you to hold on, to fight against the numbness that threatened to consume you, to find some reason to keep going, even if it was just for a little while longer. you nodded, the movement slow and reluctant, but it was enough. you knew he was right, even if you couldn’t fully believe it yet. the group did need you. they needed all of you, working together, supporting each other, if you were going to survive the hellish world.

the night was still, the weight of the day’s events pressing down on the small group like an invisible burden. the old prison offered a semblance of shelter, but the cold, unfeeling stone walls did little to ease the tension that hung in the air. everyone was tired—physically, mentally, emotionally. the exhaustion was evident, settling in their bones and dragging down their movements as they slowly prepared to sleep.

hani was the first to approach you, her eyes full of concern as she stepped closer. she hesitated for a moment before she spoke, her voice soft and tentative. “how are you holding up?” she asked, her words heavy with the weight of everything unsaid. you wanted to answer, to reassure her that you were fine, but the truth was lodged somewhere deep inside, tangled in a mess of emotions you couldn’t quite unravel. so, instead of speaking, you just nodded, a small, jerky motion that conveyed none of what you were feeling but was all you could manage in that moment.

she didn’t push, didn’t ask for more. she simply nodded back, a silent acknowledgment of your response, her eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before she turned away to find her own spot to sleep. it should have been the end of the interaction, but then, out of nowhere, you felt a pair of arms wrap around you, pulling you into a gentle embrace. it was jimin. his touch was warm, his hug firm but not suffocating. you could feel the steady beat of his heart against your chest, the rise and fall of his breathing. for a moment, you were too stunned to react, your body stiff in his arms, unsure of how to respond to the sudden show of affection. but then, slowly, you allowed yourself to relax, to lean into the embrace and accept the comfort he was offering.

you didn’t say anything, didn’t know what to say. words felt too clumsy, too inadequate to convey the storm of emotions swirling inside you. but jimin didn’t seem to need words. he just held you, offering a quiet, unspoken understanding that was more comforting than anything anyone had said to you all day. when he finally pulled back, there was a small, reassuring smile on his face, and you found yourself returning it, even if only slightly. the warmth of the hug lingered, a small balm against the cold reality that had settled in your heart.

but as he moved away, you noticed taehyung lingering behind you, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that was hard to ignore. he didn’t say anything, didn’t need to. his presence was enough to draw jungkook’s attention, and you saw the way his eyes narrowed slightly, concern evident in the lines of his face. “what happened?” he asked, his voice quiet but filled with an undercurrent of worry.

you met his gaze, the weight of the day’s events still heavy on your shoulders. “we talked,” you said simply, your voice betraying none of the depth of the conversation you and taehyung had shared earlier. to everyone’s surprise—and perhaps horror—taehyung smiled. it wasn’t the sharp, mocking smile they were used to seeing from him, but a genuine one, soft around the edges and full of something that almost looked like relief.

hoseok’s eyes widened comically, and he let out a loud cackle that echoed off the stone walls. “someone write this down,” he said, barely containing his laughter. “taehyung actually smiled. this should be documented.” the sound of laughter filled the room, a rare, welcome sound that broke through the tension that had gripped them all day. even you found yourself laughing, a small, genuine chuckle that surprised even you. it wasn’t much, but it was something—a brief moment of light in the darkness.

taehyung shook his head, still smiling, and muttered, “fuck off,” though there was no real bite to his words. the smile remained, lingering on his lips as he found his own spot to settle in for the night.

everyone gradually found their places, creating makeshift beds from the few blankets and sleeping bags they had managed to bring with them. the space was limited, and the proximity was closer than anyone would have preferred, but no one complained. they were grateful just to have somewhere to rest, somewhere that felt even marginally safe.

as you looked around the cramped space, your eyes fell on jungkook, who was settling into a small corner, his back pressed against the cold stone wall. the sight of him, so alone and yet so steadfast, tugged at something deep inside you. you hesitated for a moment, but then the lack of space became all too apparent, and you found yourself speaking before you could second-guess the decision. “jungkook,” you called softly, your voice carrying over the quiet murmurings of the others. He looked up, his eyes meeting yours, a flicker of surprise crossing his features as you continued. “can i get in with you?”

for a moment, he just stared at you, clearly taken aback by your request. his cheeks flushed a faint pink, and he quickly averted his gaze, nodding almost too eagerly. “yeah, sure,” he stammered, shifting over to make room for you. you moved closer, carefully lowering yourself beside him, the small space forcing you to press up against him more than you anticipated. the warmth of his body was immediate, seeping through the thin layers of clothing and into your skin. it was comforting in a way you hadn’t expected, a small solace in the midst of everything.

the space was tight, the proximity almost intimate, and as you both settled in, you felt jungkook’s body begin to relax beside you. he hesitated for a moment, his breath hitching slightly, but then he shifted closer, his arm wrapping around you in a tentative hug. you didn’t mind it. in fact, you found yourself leaning into the embrace, letting his warmth envelop you, grounding you in a way that nothing else had. the sound of his steady breathing, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest against yours, was soothing, a quiet reminder that you weren’t alone.

the others slowly drifted off to sleep, the quiet sounds of their breathing filling the room. but you and jungkook remained awake, the silence between you both heavy but not uncomfortable. after what felt like an eternity, his voice broke the silence, his words barely more than a whisper. “are you asleep?” you shook your head, the movement slight but enough for him to notice. his grip on you tightened slightly, and you could feel the tension in his body as he struggled with whatever it was he wanted to say.

“i know you’re going through a lot,” he began, his voice soft and full of concern. “and I know it’s not my place to say this, but i don’t want you to feel like you’re alone in this. i’m here for you, fuck, i love you.” you felt your heart tighten at his words, the sincerity in his voice cutting through the fog of despair that had settled in your mind. you wanted to believe him, to take comfort in his words, but the fear of losing someone else, of getting attached only to have them ripped away, was too overwhelming.

“i can’t,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. “i can’t risk loving you and losing you too.”

he was silent for a moment, his arms tightening around you as if he could somehow protect you from the pain that had already taken root in your heart. “you won’t lose me,” he said finally, his voice firm and full of quiet determination. “i promise you won’t lose me.” there was something in his voice, something so sure, so certain, that it made you want to believe him. and for a moment, you did. you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance you could hold onto this, onto him, without it slipping away.

before you could stop yourself, you turned your head slightly, your eyes meeting his in the dim light of the room. there was a softness in his gaze, a warmth that made your heart ache, and before you knew it, you were leaning in, your lips brushing against his in a tentative, hesitant kiss. the kiss was soft, gentle, and full of blind promises. his lips were warm against yours, his touch careful, as if he was afraid of breaking you. but you didn’t feel fragile, not in that moment. you felt grounded, tethered to something real, something that wasn’t just pain and loss.

jungkook responded slowly, his lips moving against yours with a careful, tender pressure that sent a shiver down your spine. his hand cupped the side of your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek in a soothing motion as he deepened the kiss just slightly, testing the waters. you kissed him back, your movements slow and deliberate, savoring the taste of him, the feel of him. it wasn’t just a kiss; it was a promise, a silent one that you wouldn’t let the darkness consume you, that you would hold onto this moment, to him, for as long as you could.

when you finally pulled away, your forehead resting against his, you were both breathing heavily, your hearts pounding in unison. his hand remained on your cheek, his touch gentle and reassuring, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt something other than despair. the fear was still there, lurking in the back of your mind, and as much as you wanted to hold onto this moment, you couldn’t shake the nagging doubt that clung to your thoughts.

“i love you, too,” you whispered back. he smiled and, fuck, was it contagious. you found the corners of your lips tilting upward as you returned the smile, allowing him to embrace you in warmth that seemed permanent, even though you knew it wasn't. you knew everything would wither away one way or another, but you couldn't stand another second living in the harsh reality you made your own. so, you let yourself believe. the world had ended, but it didn't mean yours had to.

you woke to a sudden, piercing sound that tore through the heavy silence of the prison, pulling you from the depths of an uneasy sleep. it was an unnatural noise, shrill and relentless, like the world itself was screaming in agony. your heart pounded in your chest, your body jolting upright as you tried to make sense of what was happening. beside you, jungkook was already awake, his eyes wide and alert as he instinctively reached for you, his hand gripping your arm. his touch grounded you, if only for a moment, but the fear in his eyes reflected your own.

“what the hell was that?” hoseok’s voice cut through the chaos, rough with sleep and rising panic. he was across the room, already on his feet, his eyes darting around the dimly lit space as if expecting something to burst through the walls at any moment. “the creatures, have they come?” hani asked, her voice trembling as she clutched at the blanket wrapped around her shoulders, her eyes wide with fear.

you knew that sound wasn’t from them. it was something else, something far worse. your gut twisted with a sense of foreboding, an inexplicable dread that made your skin crawl. a glance out the barred window told you everything you needed to know.

the sky, once a deep, inky black, was now ablaze with a sickly orange glow. it wasn’t the warm, welcoming hue of sunrise, but something far more ominous. the horizon was alive with a creeping, fiery light, like the world itself was being consumed by an inferno. the air was thick with a choking heat, the stench of burning metal and something acrid filling your nostrils. “something’s happening,” you said, your voice low and filled with dread as you turned to face the others. the look in your eyes must have conveyed the gravity of the situation because the panic in the room grew tangible.

before you could even think, a distant, thunderous roar reached your ears, vibrating through the very walls of the prison. it was a sound that chilled you to the bone, a sound that wasn’t just heard, but felt—a deep, resounding tremor that reverberated through the earth, shaking the foundations of the building. then, in the distance, you saw it.

the horizon exploded into a blinding flash of light, a surge of energy that seemed to consume everything in its path. you could see the mushrooming cloud of destruction rising into the sky, towering over the landscape like a monstrous titan. the light was so bright, so intense, that it burned into your retinas, searing the image into your mind even after you squeezed your eyes shut. “get down!” jungkook shouted, his voice barely audible over the deafening roar that followed. it was a command, a desperate plea, but there was no time to think, no time to react.

the blast wave hit the prison like a freight train, a wall of force that slammed into you with brutal, unstoppable power. the air was sucked from your lungs, your body lifted off the ground and thrown back like a ragdoll. the walls shook violently, dust and debris raining down from the ceiling as the very structure of the building groaned in protest. you crashed to the floor, the impact knocking the breath out of you, pain shooting through your limbs as you landed hard. the world around you was a chaotic blur, the sound of shattering glass, crumbling concrete, and the terrified screams of your friends filling your ears. it was like being caught in the eye of a storm, a maelstrom of destruction that was tearing everything apart.

the heat was unbearable, a searing wave that licked at your skin, threatening to consume you. you could feel the shockwave rippling through the building, shaking the ground beneath you, and with it came the unmistakable sound of structural collapse—the groan of metal twisting, the crack of concrete splitting, the rumble of walls buckling under the strain. you tried to move, to crawl, to find some semblance of safety, but your body wouldn’t respond. every inch of you screamed in agony, your head spinning from the impact, your ears ringing from the deafening noise. the air was thick with dust and smoke, choking you, making it nearly impossible to breathe.

jungkook was there, his arms around you, shielding you as best he could as the world fell apart around you. you could feel his heart pounding against your back, his breath hot against your neck as he whispered something—words you couldn’t make out, couldn’t comprehend, but you knew they were meant to comfort, to reassure. but there was no comfort to be found. the prison was falling, crumbling under the force of the blast, the walls and ceilings collapsing in on themselves, and there was nothing you could do to stop it. the sound of metal tearing, of stone splitting, filled the air as the building shuddered and groaned, and you knew it was only a matter of time before everything came crashing down.

a second blast followed, this one closer, the shockwave hitting you with even more force. you were thrown again, your body skidding across the floor as more debris rained down from above. you could hear the others shouting, their voices lost in the cacophony, and then, finally, there was silence—a heavy silence that weighed down on you like a blanket. you didn’t know how long you lay there, gasping for breath, your ears ringing, your body aching with pain. the world was a blur of dust and smoke, the once familiar walls of the prison now a twisted, broken mess of rubble and debris.

when you finally managed to push yourself up, your limbs trembling with the effort, the sight that greeted you was one of utter devastation. the prison was barely standing, the walls crumbling, the roof half-caved in. the once-sturdy structure had been reduced to little more than a shell, a skeleton of what it once was. the air was thick with dust, the smell of burning and decay heavy in your nose.

the others were scattered around the room, some lying motionless, others struggling to move. jungkook was beside you, his face pale and streaked with blood, his eyes wide with shock as he took in the destruction around you.

“what happened?” jimin’s voice was barely more than a whisper, trembling as she clutched at hoseok, who was bleeding from a gash on his forehead. “the nuclear plants,” you said, your voice hoarse, the realization dawning on you with a cold, terrifying certainty. “the cooling water must have evaporated.”

the words hung in the air, heavy and final, as the reality of the situation sank in. the world wasn’t just ending; it was being obliterated, piece by piece, consumed by a fire that couldn’t be stopped. and you were right in the middle of it. you looked around at the faces of your friends, at the fear and despair etched into their features, and you knew that whatever came next, it was going to be worse. there was no escape from this, no way to outrun the destruction that was spreading across the globe like wildfire.

one by one, you helped the others to their feet, offering words of comfort, of reassurance, even though you didn’t fully believe them yourself. the fear was still there, gnawing at the edges of your mind, but it was tempered by something stronger—the will to survive, to keep fighting, no matter what. together, you stumbled out of the wreckage of the prison, into a world that was no longer recognizable, a world that had been torn apart by forces beyond your control. the sky was still burning, the air thick with smoke and ash, but you didn’t look back. there was no point.

just as you thought you had found some semblance of footing, another explosion erupted, far closer than before. the world around you seemed to implode in on itself, a monstrous roar of fire and fury swallowing everything in its path. the blast wave hit you with unimaginable force, sending you and jungkook flying backward.

you felt the ground leave you, your body weightless for a moment before crashing down hard. the impact knocked the wind from your lungs, your body racked with pain as you skidded across the debris-strewn ground. the noise was deafening, a cacophony of destruction that drowned out everything else. you barely had time to register the pain before you realized jungkook had been thrown with you. his body collided with yours, and the two of you tumbled together, a tangled mess of limbs and blood.

“jungkook,” you barely managed to rasp his name, your throat raw from the dust and smoke. you tried to move, to reach for him, but your body refused to respond. every nerve screamed in agony, and you could feel the warmth of blood seeping through your clothes, soaking into the earth beneath you. he groaned, a pained sound that sent a spike of fear through your heart. he was right there, just inches away, his eyes wide and unfocused as he struggled to breathe. you could see the blood trickling from a gash on his forehead, could see the way his chest heaved with every ragged breath.

“stay with me,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you reached out, your fingers brushing against his. "jungkook, stay with me." he turned his head toward you, his eyes locking onto yours. there was fear there, yes, but something else too—something that broke your heart even more. it was acceptance. a quiet, resigned acceptance that this was the end.

“i’m here,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the roar of the flames and the crumbling world around you. he tried to smile, a weak, trembling thing that made your heart ache. “i’m right here.” you forced yourself closer to him, every movement sending waves of pain through your battered body. but you didn’t care. all that mattered was getting to him, being with him, even if it was only for a few more moments.

“i’m sorry,” you choked out, tears blurring your vision as you finally reached him, your fingers intertwining with his. his hand was warm, his grip weak but steady. “i’m so sorry, jungkook.”

“shh,” he whispered, his thumb brushing against the back of your hand in a comforting gesture, despite the pain etched across his face. “it’s okay, it’s okay.”

but it wasn’t. it wasn’t okay at all. you could see the light fading from his eyes, could feel the way his grip was loosening, his strength slipping away. you wanted to fight it, to hold on to him, to refuse this cruel fate that was tearing him from you, but there was nothing you could do. the world was ending, and you were powerless to stop it.

“i love you,” he breathed, the words barely more than a whisper as his eyes fluttered closed. “i love you.”

the tears flowed freely now, hot and unchecked as you leaned in, pressing your forehead against his. “i love you too,” you whispered back, your voice breaking. “i love you so much.” and then, with a final shuddering breath, the life left his body.

“no,” you rasped, your voice raw, filled with a grief so deep it threatened to swallow you whole. you clutched him to you, your arms trembling as you held him close, as if you could somehow keep him here, keep him with you. “no, no, no please, no.” but he was gone. the realization hit you like another blast, a wave of pain and despair that ripped through your very soul. the world around you was crumbling, but all you could feel was the emptiness where he used to be. the world was gone, and so was he.

you didn’t even notice the others until you heard them shouting, their voices barely registering through the haze of grief. they were calling your name, screaming for you to move, to get up, but you couldn’t. you didn’t want to. the world was ending, and you wanted it to take you too. and then, the final blast hit. the world exploded into a blinding white light, a force so powerful it lifted you off the ground once more, tearing you away from jungkook’s lifeless body. you felt the searing heat, the crushing pressure, and then? nothing. darkness.

when you opened your eyes again, the world was still. still, silent and lonely, not a soul to harbor it but yours. the suffocating weight of death and destruction was gone, replaced by a heavy, eerie calm. you tried to move, to lift your head, but the effort felt impossible. every part of your body ached, a deep, bone-deep pain that left you gasping.

the ceiling above you was white, sterile, and familiar in a way that made your heart stutter. the sharp, chemical smell that filled your nostrils brought with it a wave of memories—memories of hospital corridors, of beeping machines, of the steady hum of fluorescent lights. a hospital. you blinked, trying to focus, your mind struggling to catch up with what you were seeing. slowly, your vision cleared, and you realized you were lying on a bed, wrapped in crisp, white sheets. the walls around you were painted in soft, muted tones, the kind designed to soothe, to comfort.

for a moment, you felt a strange sense of peace, a fleeting thought that maybe it had all been a nightmare—that you had simply woken up from a horrible, twisted dream. then, you heard it. you heard it all over again, because the sound was unmistakeable. silence.

✧.*

a/n: this took so long to write actually bye stream cosmic

[savagewildnerness]

The Vampire Lestat notes...

OK, so I am taking part in a The Vampire Lestat read along on Discord (organised by @old-long-john& @inkyblotposts!)

Don’t expect me to be this in detail every week as I absolutely cannot… but I realised I went SO in detail with my notes/thoughts on my read of the first part that I can’t share it all on Discord! Hahaha!  So, instead, I’ll post it here, link it there and maybe you’d like to discuss here too? Look, I don't do things by halves, OK!? So did I write nearly as many notes as there likely are words in this part of the book? Maybe... And...?!?!?!?! But this is my Tumblr and so I can post the notes in full here and what's more, I WILL!

Introduction:

I enjoy how out-of-touch with 'the youth' of the 1980's Lestat sounds and I hope that the TV show retains this in some way. Lestat, of course, would be pretty out of place in the modern era in some ways in how he speaks, particularly given that it seems the majority of the last century he's been hibernating with a plank piano and an iPad..?

Lestat says that "there was a romance" to modern music and I'm so curious if that's how he'll feel about some kind of modern music now, or, whether Lestat’s rock star career will just be 100% about Louis on the TV show?

"the way electricity could stretch a single note forever; the way harmony could be layered upon harmony until you felt yourself dissolving in the sound. So eloquent of dread it was, this music." - This reads to me like a musical description of vampirism?!

It makes me laugh when we juxtapose how Louis and Lestat describe how broken and scared of everything he is in his wilderness years in the books... yet Lestat here is like "Yeah, I was a bit scared... but in THREE DAYS I was roaring around on a motorbike...!" hahahah... I don't know whether to believe you or not, Lestat?! I also note here that it's impossible for Lestat's strength to have increased like it has here in the book on TV as he's already too strong on the show for that!

Quote I thought might be used on the show - "All people had a right to love and to luxury and to graceful things.”

Potential episode title - "Pure evil has no real place."

Surely this quote will be on tv… “It was enough to make an Old World monster go back into the earth, this stunning irrelevance to the mighty scheme of things, enough to make him lie down and weep. Or enough to make him become a rock singer, when you think about it…”

I was interested how Lestat describes how he jams with the musicians. Will The Vampire Lestat's music incorporate old French songs and brutal rhythms - eerie and disjointed music, as Lestat describes his playing?

"When I Iose my confidence, my powers drain." Found that interesting…

We'd better see Lestat standing stock still beneath a street light, whipping through IWTV at an insane speed till he exasperatedly tears it to shreds on TV!

Lestat dreams of "unprecedented rebellion, a great and horrific change to my kind all over the world." !!!

Lestat had better use the phrase "A velvet-lined motor coach" on telly! MAKE IT SO ROLIN! Please!

The ache for Louis Lestat has - for “his romantic illusions”, “his gentlemanly malice and his physical presence, the deceptively soft sound of his voice.”

There's a self-destructive excitement to how Lestat talks of being hunted and known "as no mythic monster has ever been fought by man before.”

Lestat's psychology… “How could I not love it, the mere idea of it?  How could it not be worth the greatest danger, the greatest and most ghastly defeat?  Even at the moment of destruction, I would be alive as I have never been.”

Lelio Rising.

So first of all… I noted the timeline as I went this time:

Lestat kills the wolves aged 20 (he specifically states that he is 20 on p38 if you have the new UK paperback version of the book… “The Winter of my 21st year” - your first year you are aged 0… when you turn 1 that is your second year.  So Lestat’s 21st year is from the day he turns 20 until the day before he turns 21.

As far as I can tell, all of Lelio Rising takes place when Lestat is 20 (apart from the flashbacks when he is younger.)  Lestat meets Nicolas and they begin their conversation as Winter turns to Spring in the year he is 20…. He first performs as Lelio in late-August of the year he is 20… and he talks of seeing Magnus in October of that year… soon after which, he is made a vampire.  Thus, I think Lestat will have been made a vampire weeks/days before he turns 21.  I’d personally like to imagine it happens on Halloween.

Regarding Lestat’s family… Gabrielle has 8 children.  The oldest boy is Augustin… there is one girl, but we don’t even know where she came in the birth order.  Lestat is the youngest boy.  Only one more boy survives… a boy whom for whatever reason, Lestat doesn’t mention by name even once!!?!

How Lestat self-describes: The dreamer, the angry one, the complainer, the hunter, unhappy, ferocious, a wild creature, bitter (haha, I typed BUTTER first!)

OK… on to the chapter!

The book starts describing the Winter and I was struck by how later in the chronicles, Lestat will often dream of this snow and how this bitter Winter is the opposite of death for a vampire - who die in fire or The Sun…

“In the winter of my twenty-first year, I went out alone on horseback to kill a pack of wolves.”  Wouldn’t that have been magnificent as the actual first line of the novel?!  Just saying…!  I mean, it kind of *is* the first line!  I wonder if Anne wrote the introduction first, or this?

Lestat being brought back with his wings broken made me see Nicolas’ mind-bird in my mind.

“White-wigged Parisians in high-heeled satin slippers” was so redolent of Louis and Lestat at the Mardis Gras ball in S1 to me.

“Though I speak of them as dogs now, they were known only by their names to me then.”  What a beautiful, sideways way of expressing what the dogs meant to Lestat.

I love how hunter-Lestat is described almost like a beast himself and it makes me so excited to see this on screen.  I also love the way he understands the wolves’ strategy - thinking like the wolves think.  We’re gonna see a FLAIL, folks!

Lestat’s horse’s death is the first truly gothic description…. It always makes me wonder too whether that Lestat found it in himself to kill his horse in mercy for her suffering isn’t as much a reason for Magnus to pay attention to him as the fact that he killed the wolves? Also I’ve begun to notice Anne Rice loves to compare things to insects…

When Augustin says Lestat didn’t kill the wolves, then retracts it & Lestat says the next thing he knew he was lying alone in his room… I mean… it can be read at face value, but I also wonder - is there something that happened here that Lestat doesn’t write?  And if so, might the TV show go there?

Breaking the bullet points up as tumblr won't let me post...

I noticed a lot of what Lestat will later seek in his relationships and how he is in relationships in his relationship with Gabrielle.  Gabrielle is not a touching-person, but the moments she allows a tiny bit of conversation… it leans into me thinking of Lestat and Nicolas’ conversation… the way she gives him gifts and *things* when he struggles… it creates Lestat the gift-giver, it seems to me…?  This is how he is shown love and so this is how he learns to give love.  The way withdraws surely creates Lestat’s sense of being “too much” as much as his Father and brother telling him his is ‘wrong’ does?

“I wanted to be enclosed forever with people who believed I could be good if I wanted to be.” - I wonder if the TV show will go down the route of Lestat’s quest for goodness?  I hope so!  At this time, I think 12-year-old Lestat found goodness in the order of the monastery versus the chaos he felt in the family castle (haha, the family castle!) And I also feel like he felt goodness in being made “ordered” rather than “chaotic” himself.  However, I don’t think Lestat would have been happy in the end in so restrictive a place, much as I am sure he would have loved learning.

Gabrielle buys Lestat his first mastiff puppies, a good horse and a rifle when he is 12.  She creates Lestat-the-hunter.  She later will say she feels Lestat is the man in her, the man she cannot be in this era.  And she literally chooses what Lestat will be.  She doesn’t teach him to read, even though she knows his curiosity to learn, even from the way he talks.  No, she decides the boy will become a hunter and so Lestat does.  Becoming a hunter is also something that will bond him more tightly to his home.  It’s not something that’s ever going to lead to a route to escape for him.  Teaching Lestat to read might have led to Lestat fleeing for Paris far sooner…. I don’t know.  Gabrielle will later say she kept Lestat prisoner as surely as his Father and brothers and I really felt that on this re-read…. Even when Lestat runs away with the theatre at 16 and so Gabrielle truly then knows how Lestat wants to escape… what does she buy him?  A fancier rifle.  A thing to keep him more tightly where he is, hunting here for the family.  She begins to talk to Lestat in conversation.  But it’s like she’s placating on both sides - so Lestat will stop getting beaten (to keep him here) and so he’ll have just-enough mental stimulation to keep him where he is too: here with her…?  I understand it from her perspective.  Imagine how alone she’d be otherwise.  But it’s interesting to me.

“The silent ebb and flow of life felt deadly to me.” - surely Lestat will say this on TV?

I got annoyed thinking about Lestat playing Harlequin as I read the Commedia Dell’ Arte talking about how an actor plays a single role for life… although… metaphorically, could we say Lestat truly *is* kind of playing Lelio for life once he is immortal?!

After Lestat returns from the theatre, this is when he really begins to despair and to believe he will never be free.  I was struck by how he says he becomes more useful in this time.  Isn’t it often the way - with no hope for his own future, he sinks into the role of provider and caregiver and the only way he can ‘be good’…. It also makes me think how in the future, when in despair, Lestat will rush to *do* some mad scheme or other.

Hahaha at Lestat valuing his Mother’s physical beauty as having inherent value, the vain little irritant!

I did wonder, when Lestat tells Gabrielle how he dreams of killing his family… given how they have made all the characters worse on the show, I really HOPE they don’t make Lestat LITERALLY kill his family.  It crossed my mind that they *could*… PLEASE DO NOT.  I don’t think they will as it counters the ensuing conversation, but I had a sudden flash of FEAR!

This conversation though, Gabrielle takes Lestat seriously.  She always takes Lestat seriously, which I love her for.  Much as I believe Gabrielle doesn’t love Lestat enough… I think it’s probably pretty rare and a very special thing for a parent to take the thoughts of their child and who they are so seriously and not to dismiss them?

Gabrielle seems to love Lestat more now he’s 20 as she can see him as a man rather than as her son.  She likes to talk to him as if he were not her son.  She hates to be called Mother.  She seems to love to feel him as a comrade.  And I will say here that if I feel Lestat isn’t loved enough by Gabrielle… his brothers… she literally despises them.  I know they seem awful, but imagine not receiving even one iota of love in your entire life from your mother, which must be their experience.

“You don’t have to take upon yourself the burden of murder or madness to be free of this place.  Surely there must be other ways.” - This is the spark that makes Lestat first believe he might not have to be obedient in order to be “good”.

I love Gabrielle’s quote “I am purely myself.  I belong to no one.”

I love too that even in this introduction we get Lestat the hunter, the killer juxtaposed with Lestat the aesthete and Lestat the thinker, feeler and (he wishes!) learner…

Little break, because my favourite time is now starting - it’s Nicolas time!

Lestat describes Nicolas (at different times) as: a vision, witty, dismissive, sneering, excited, sarcastic, intelligent, melancholy, cynical, bitter, full of energy, passionate, handsome, ironical, sad, scornful, mocking, miserable, weary, dejected.

Will Nicolas say “I too am impossible, Monsieur.  Only the impossible can do the impossible.”  Surely he will, and surely “Only the impossible can do the impossible” will be the title of the episode where Lestat kills the wolves?

Lovely foreshadowing that Gabrielle says Nicolas was inspired to play violin by watching a virtuoso so impressive people said he sold his soul to the devil and then suggests that maybe Nicki can do the same.  “I laughed a little uneasily.  It sounded tragic.”  Oh Lestat, you have NO IDEA!!!!!

Will Mozart be in S3?  I HOPE SO (& think so!!?!).  And Marie Antoinette, too!  Surely!

Obviously we’ll hear Nicki’s Father was threatening to break his hands for the foreshadowing too!

“I think I loved him already, doing what he wanted like that.”  A few pages later… “I think I loved him.”  Lestat falls hard and fast, like love at first sight.

I just want to add here that it’s an absolutely ridiculous concept that Nicolas STARTS playing the violin aged 20 and immediately is able to be as good as he gets!  He might feel he can never be good enough… but he must be literally a genius if he’s become even that good at the violin when he’d never even picked one up a year ago! How do you think playing an instrument works, Anne?!?!?!?!  You just pick it up and instantly - BAM you not only can just do it, but you’re great!  If only!  And Mozart is willing to take on a complete beginner as a pupil, too?!

In Lestat and Nicolas’ first conversation, it feels to me as though Lestat is infecting Nicolas with his light and optimism and it really made me understand how much Nicolas truly did need Lestat - like he is Nicolas’ hope.  Until…. (We’ll return here later in the book!)

I wonder how the fact that Lestat is born in The Enlightenment - a new age of Reason will impact how he is portrayed on the show?  Obviously we’ve seen already how it’ll affect Armand!

When Nicolas brings up The Witches’ Place, Lestat doesn’t immediately remember - as if he has repressed the memory as it is traumatic.  I need The Witches Place on TV, but I can’t imagine how we can get to it?  Nicolas would have either not yet been born or have been a baby when this happened, so he cannot remind Lestat; Gabrielle would absolutely never bring up such a story in retrospect… and Lestat has repressed the memory… so how can we now get to The Witches’ Place?  Also, I find it interesting that Lestat says Nicki studies him as they talk about this… to ascertain how Lestat feels about it now?

I spoke of Lestat’s love for Nicolas, but when Nicolas is saying “Ah, you are a dreamer! My lord, the wolfkiller.” It feels Nicolas loves Lestat as well.  And of course, Nicolas also says “I love you” to Lestat, in Paris.  I love how, in this first conversation they both discover what it is to be truly known by another being - in how they share their lives and their longings and their dissatisfactions and they truly listen to and empathise with each other.  It definitely feels like (beyond his Mother, who really was more sporadic in her attention), this is Lestat’s first experience of truly being seen by another being.

“I think I was happier than I had ever been in my life.”  Lestat is so joyous here.  When he hears Nicolas play for the first time, he kisses Nicolas on both cheeks and then the violin!  You can just imagine the infectious joy!  And it’s such a contrast to how Lestat is afraid to touch his Mother

Lestat then (of course!) promptly cries!  (Is Sam’s Lestat going to burst into tears as often as Lestat describes it, because get him ten thousand gallons of water to drink - he’ll need them!!!!  Lestat also cries at the most random moments… but we know Sam is up to the task!) Nicolas seems deeply moved too that his music had this effect.  Perhaps Nicolas initially expected to find a kindred spirit in ferocity and rebellion in Lestat?  And he did!  But he found a match in sensitivity too.

As conversations go on, Lestat and Nicolas find their differences with opposing worldviews and interestingly they often clash about the goodness inherent in art… and yet they then come together in art (for example as Nicki plays violin and Lestat dances…)

The idea to go to Paris actually comes from Nicolas - he is the instigator.  And it feels like they are both, at this point trying to escape the meaninglessness of life.

Lestat’s “Oh, oh, oh!” crisis moment really reminds me of… *warning - slight spoiler for first time readers* what Lestat will later see in Nicolas’ mind… and it gives a different vibe to things to know that Nicolas is Lestat’s comforter in this moment and tries to relieve Lestat’s pain, but basically this is Nicolas’ mind 100% of the time.

“It was not better in the morning.”  In fact this existential crisis, his malady of mortality becomes Lestat’s eternal yearning ache of questioning than can never be fully assuaged (maybe on the TV show, the answer will be - Louis’ love.)  It never goes away, and any time someone describes Lestat as just FUN, I think back to this - because at the core of Lestat (and as I see it, at the core of The Vampire Chronicles) is this terror that existence is meaningless and that no life has any meaning at all.  That there are no answers we’ll ever receive, not even when we die.  That there will be no retribution or reward or even knowledge in any way.  That all there is is existence and non-existence.  This will obviously only be heightened once Lestat becomes a vampire, so must take life in order to survive and force countless souls into non-existence…. In in fact, Lestat’s focus on death and chaos has this nihilistic hint to it which is so the opposite to how Lestat is generally perceived.. and, admittedly how he tries to come across, too!  Lestat says he doesn’t believe in presentiments, but narratively this all is a presentiment and literally it is to be Lestat’s eternal malady of immortality as well.

I had some very personal thoughts at this point, when Lestat goes about questioning everyone… which perhaps I won’t share….  Well just to say that sometimes when something big happens in your life, you literally see the world in a different way.  I am thinking on a time when all of a sudden I began to look at people & it felt like I could *see* the weariness of their souls and internal fragilities, just looking at strangers’ faces and it was really unnerving and overwhelming, especially going about in crowds…

“Drew me as strongly as it scared me.”  Isn’t this always the way?  I hope the writers always have this quote in mind throughout the entire show’s creation!

It’s interesting that before Lestat heads to Paris he is now toning down how much he tells Gabrielle and instead it is Nicki he will fully open up with.

I love the part where Lestat hugs Gabrielle and she gives herself over to him and he witnesses her cry for the first time and loves it.  I had a very similar experience with my Dad once when I was a child, heading into being a teen and I can still conjure the scene and how it felt… and I felt similarly about it too…

At the end of chapter 6 it seems Gabrielle is saying she’s always lived vicariously through Lestat & now in sending him away as she’s dong, she hopes to continue to live vicariously through him still in some way as she approaches what she thinks will be her death?  Reading this time gave me big Magnus vibes in how he perceives Lestat too… weird!  Like somehow, both seem to desire to live vicariously through Lestat?  Could we even say it of Nicolas too, in a way?  He needs Lestat, to feed on his capacity for joy… hmm… I don’t know… I’m thinking as I type…

I love the feeling of freedom and optimism when Lestat and Nicolas first arrive in Paris  - the true start of living life!

And yet, Lestat still talks of his trembling, terrifying existential dread that settles upon him every night and which Nicolas tries to encourage him to let go.

Vampires have preternatural ability to mimic, but as described, Lestat already learned in this way it seems, in the theatre.  I love how he describes his fear evaporating and how he loved being on stage.  I love his determination and how convinced he is he will be a great actor.  I love how Lestat and Nicolas are described here and there’s a tantalising feeling of how their future might be…

The Autumn arrives with it’s personification of Dread.

Malady of mortality surely has to be an episode title?

When Lestat wraps he and Nicki together in his cloak against the show and rain, it feels simultaneously real and metaphorically poignant.

Lestat genuinely thinks if he could just get Nicki to understand the truth Lestat feels certain of (goodness in art and making others happy through your art), all would be well, but Nicolas still believes goodness can only come from obedience and self-sacrifice and denial and, thus, he knows himself to be evil.

“Light and beauty come together in you in a thousand different patterns” is such a beautiful thing Lestat says to Nicolas.

Nicki’s final words to mortal Lestat are a soft “Let’s go to bed.”  (Do you think show-Lestat will be ripped out of post-coital Nicolas’ arms..?)

Finally: Questions:

At the start of TVL, Lestat has been In The Earth. Do you think he will have been In The Earth in this era on the TV show? (As Louis has seen him pretty recently, which makes it seem like perhaps he won’t have been?)

The ‘spirit’ of 1984 reminds Lestat of the 1700’s. Will there be anything about the 2020’s that Lestat will associate with/that will remind him of the late eighteenth century?

“I did a lot of thinking about this sinless, secular morality, this optimism” - will this be a driving force for modern day Lestat? What will he think about in relation to right now?

What music will Lestat listen to? He listens to a lot of Bach when he first rises in the book (while driving his Harley-Davidson.  Is there a security both in the structure of Bach and in the fact his music is from an era predating even mortal Lestat that makes Lestat feel safer entering the modern era?

Lestat talks about coming back after killing the wolves and feeling that he was ‘not-Lestat’, so I thought we could discuss - did killing the wolves change Lestat, and if so: how?

When Lestat goes into a depression post-killing-the-wolves, is this essentially a human version of “Going into The Earth” as Lestat will do numerous times as a vampire?

How will the French Revolution impact the TV telling?

When Lestat talks of how he could have poisoned meat to kill the wolves, but meat was too scarce… is he in a veiled way saying that his life has less value than a piece of meat?

“I don’t think I felt the slightest fear then.  But I felt something, and it caused the hair to rise up on the back of my arms.” What exactly is the “something” Lestat feels when he sets out to kill the wolves?  And why is he not afraid? Bravery? His hunting spirit? His impulsive, adventurous nature? Stupidity? Naivety? Only feeling truly alive in moments that contain the potential for death? A lack of care whether he lives or dies (borne of despair}?

Reading the wolves section, with the dying animals and even after this too when Lestat talks of his ignored/thwarted farming plans for his family’s land… It made me wonder, just a curious ponder - if Sam might have had any experiences in real life connected to any of this stuff, given his family’s line of work…?

Is performing with the theatre troupe at 16 the first time Lestat truly feels pure joy - he describes it as ecstasy?

How can we now get to The Witches’ Place if Nicki can’t have witnessed child-Lestat there, Gabrielle would never tell the story and Lestat has repressed the memory…?

[silentglassbreak]

(Photo credit to @darling-millicent-aubrey’s post)

Fragmented

Noah Sebastian x OFC

We made it. We fucking made it. The end of Leena and Noah’s story. It’s been a rollercoaster. The special, surreal story that this has become blows me away. To think that I started this with a broken heart and a silhouette of an idea.

Thank you to my regular, dedicated readers. Thank you to those who gave me feedback of any kind. Thank you to the friends I’ve made because of this story. For those of you who checked on me during this difficult time of my life.

Every last one of you reading this. Thank you. After writing notes: I'M NOT CRYING MY EYES ARE SWEATING. For the love of God, listen to the title song the entire time. I hope you like it. :)

Warnings: Fucking marshmallow fluff, my guy

Taglist: @flowery-mess @lma1986 @myownthoughts12 @poisongirl616 @missduffsblog @reidsblessing @malerieee @jilliemiw86 @thisbicc @xx-like-a-villian-xx @diabolicdiatonics

Part 12 - If I’m There

Two weeks. We had two weeks. Were we trying to figure it out? No. Were we talking about it? Nope. Were we acting as if the last six months had almost never happened?

Pretty much.

Mileena and Addison had all but moved back home with me, their things making their way back little by little every day.

‘I don’t want to annoy Laura, her and Nick are living together now and she needs space!'

‘I just need a few things, I promise I’m not planning on crowding you.’

‘I can always move back into my place once the tenants leave. It’s no big issue.’

Yeah, I shot that one down pretty quick.

I was constantly reminding Leena that my girls being home made me happier than I had been all year, but she continued to be insecure and refused to believe me. Despite my reassurances, she still insisted that she would not assume I would forgive her for what she put us through this year, and that she still had making up to do.

Interesting perspective, given I had long forgiven her, and was now enjoying my days more than ever. I could write music with a clear head, I ate dinner with my daughter every night, I slept next to my best friend.

She had lost her mind entirely if she thought I was letting this slip away again.

I found myself thinking of her while I perused the grocery store, grabbing not only mine and Addison’s favorite snacks, but hers as well. Sour Punch Straws, blueberry bagels, and snack cheese. When I walked to the check stand, the bouquet of flowers stared at me, daring me to get them for her.

Was it too much? We hadn’t agreed we were back together. I was afraid to spook her. Was getting her flowers too forward?

But they were orange and black daisies…

So I walked out of that grocery store with her snacks, a can of her favorite flavor of Redbull, and a bouquet of Halloween color daisies.

Wow, I’ve become so fucking soft.

Didn’t matter. Because when I stepped in the doorway, and she came to help grab the bags from me, and she laid eyes on the arrangement in my hand, her eyes sparkled like I hadn’t seen in so long. She wasn’t even a flower person. She couldn’t keep a plant alive for longer than a week. But seeing the smile playing on her lips, I knew she was swooning back from the gesture.

Smart fucking move, Sebastian.

Our day passed easily, moving through motions fluidly while tossing small smiles at each other. We cooked dinner in the kitchen, singing and dancing to Addie’s favorite movie soundtrack (currently Moana), while she squealed in her high chair and bounced to the tune.

Bathing Addison was back to being a team effort, given she was trying to climb out of the tub every few seconds. I roared out laughing when Mileena slipped and fell on her ass into the water, soaking her sweats. She promptly pulled me in after, ensuring to spread bubbles over the top of my head. Addison watched on in wonder, not even understanding the fireworks exploding right in front of her.

At night, though? That’s when we felt it most. After the baby was asleep, and we had to exist alone together, the awkward silences always fell between us, leaving us to giggle nervously and go about our own business.

It was in those moments I would finally get a second to ask myself, where were we? Where does this leave us? Does she still want me? Was she feeling as elated as I was? Or was this all a temporary arrangement?

She changed into dry clothes, and I was sitting on the edge of the bed, flipping idly though Netflix for something compelling enough to play. She stepped out of the closet, stopping short in front of me.

“So, what are your plans?”

I quirked an eyebrow, eyes still fixed on the TV. “Plans?”

She leaned a hip on the dresser, folding her arms. “Yeah, like, what are you going to do with the rest of the night?”

Shrugging loosely, I set the remote down and looked at her. “I haven’t decided yet. Probably watch a movie.”

Chewing the inside of her cheek, she nodded slowly. “Okay, that sounds nice.”

What a strange conversation. It felt so forced.

“What about you?”

I could see her mind thinking behind her eyes. Words wanted to come out, but she wasn’t letting them. Eventually, she visibly gave up on whatever internal battle she was having.

“Ugh,” She sighed heavily. “I’ll probably just hang out.” And she began moving toward the doorway.

“Hey.” I called after her and she turned her head to look at me. “Want to hang out together?”

Existing together didn’t have to be hard. I watched the TV, catching up on One Piece, while she sat cross legged across the couch, laptop perched on her legs, chewing a Sour Punch Straw. We had been like this for an hour and a half.

The longer we sat here, the more I could feel myself burning to be closer to her. The distance between us just wasn’t working for me right now.

Her eyes were scanning the screen, clearly enthralled in whatever she was reading, as told by the way the corner of her mouth was pinched up in a small grin.

Disregarding the anime, I slid my body over to her, sprawling flat on my stomach and leaning my head near her lap.

“Whatcha reading?” I propped my head on the palm of my hand.

Her eyes flickered to me for a moment, and a sheepish grin crawled over her.

“A blog.”

My eyes tried to wrap to her screen, but failed given the angle. “About what?”

Considering for a moment, she gave me a look painted with mischief.

“About you.”

My eyes popped open. “Me?”

She cackled. “Not the real you.” This only confused me further, my face screwing up trying to figure out what she meant. “You ever had a Tumblr?”

I sat up then, crossing my legs in the same fashion as her. “When I was fifteen, maybe?”

Her giggles were uncontrollable. “Well, it still exists, and Laura asked me recently if I had ever looked to see how much fanfiction was written about you guys.”

My brain clicked into place. “You’re reading fanfiction? About me?”

She leaned back leisurely. “Some of these are very intriguing. I find it wildly entertaining.”

“Like what?”

Leena smirked, scrolling on her screen. “Well, there’s one on here that is crazy popular, about you falling in love with the lead singer of another band. I’m only four chapters in, but it’s actually really good.” She clicked on a link, a GIF of myself when my hair was long and pulled up in a claw clip popped up on the screen. “And this is one of the more tame ones.”

This piqued my interest. “Oh? How bad does it get?”

I watched as she slipped a little further into her hoodie, mildly embarrassed.

“I may or may not have found a large amount of smut written about you.”

My eyes bulged then, and my hands snatched the laptop off of her.

“No fucking way!”

I began scrolling, but her hands were grabbing at the laptop. She was shrieking at me to give it back while stopping to laugh. “Don’t Noah! You can’t read your own fanfiction! That’s some kind of crime against physics or something!”

I chuckled, lifting the computer out of her reach while she clawed at me.

“Why? Because it would break some kind of dimensional third wall?”

She continued her efforts while I chuckled at her.

“That or it’s extremely humiliating!”

“Worth it.”

She began climbing over me in her attempts to reach the laptop, which had me laughing even harder.

“Don’t drop my computer or I’ll kill you!” She growled at me. The threat resembled something you’d see in a cartoon, given how much smaller she was than me.

Still, somewhere inside me, I didn’t exactly doubt it.

“Only if you read me some of the dirty stuff.”

Her mouth fell open and eyes bugged out. “Excuse me?”

Lowering my brows, I brought the laptop closer to her reach. “Read me some smut about me.”

Her hand finally grabbed the edge of the computer, pulling it away as she fell back on her ass on the couch.

“Absolutely not.”

I made a show of pouting my lip out, and gave her my best rendition of sad puppy eyes.

“Please? I’m so fucking curious.”

She waved me off. “You’ve got a computer, read it yourself!”

I then narrowed my eyes and licked my lip. “That’s not as fun.”

She scoffed, sitting back, and smiled precariously. "Not happening, perv."

I rolled my eyes. "You are so boring."

Her tongue darted out between her lips and she scrunched up her nose to mock me. I took the opportunity to catch her off guard, tackling her around the midsection back onto the couch. This caused a small squeak out of her, and her hand quickly shelved the laptop on the coffee table. I sat up on my knees, straddling her waist, and stared down at her menacingly.

"You should know better than to make fun of me."

She pointed a finger while looking up at me. "You called me boring!"

Smirking, I lifted both hands, mimicking claws. "Now, say sorry for being a brat."

Her mouth fell open in disbelief. "I'm the brat? You're the one getting mad because I won't do what you want."

Without warning, my hands came down to grab at her sides, squeezing and tickling mercilessly while she shrieked, squirming underneath me.

"Noah! Stop it!"

My tongue caught between my teeth, I continued my attack, hitting all the right spots. "Nope. Not until you say sorry."

Breathlessly, she tried to speak. "I'm- fuck!" Her back arched off of the couch, pressing hard against my crotch, as she did all she could to get away from me. "I'm sorry!"

My hands stilled, and I squeezed her hips tightly. "Thank you, princess."

She caught her breath, chest rising and falling while she stared up at me, eyelids crested.

Just like that, the air was thick. It came screaming back to my attention that we hadn't touched each other, or even been this close, since the night we fucked after dinner, in this very spot. By the look I saw sparkling behind her eyes, she was realizing the very same thing.

My fingers still pressed into her sides, I lowered my face to reach her, pressing my nose into the side of her neck and nuzzling gently. I heard the slightest giggle escape her, and I let my hands wander up her sides. Laying myself down beside her, I let my lips begin dropping soft kisses on the skin just behind her ear. My arm, now laid across her stomach, felt the hard breath she exhaled.

Her hand fell on my arm, fingers gripping me and pulling me tighter against her.

Mileena turned her face to look into my eyes, and gave me the smallest smile I may have ever seen. My chest swelled, and I pulled her toward me, pressing my lips against hers gently. She reciprocated the kiss, lazily rolling to her side and tucking herself comfortably against me.

How long we stayed this way, limbs entwined and mouths connected, I'll never know. I only knew that it was so warm, and so sweet to have her hard pressed into my soul, and not preparing to run at any given moment.

Once we finally broke apart, I truly believe that we both were so comfortable, and so content, that we ended up dozing off wrapped around each other.

-

"Noah?" I could barely hear her voice over the spray of the shower.

"Yes?" I'm certain my words were muffled, as I was scrubbing soap over my face.

We had woken up, stiff and backs sore, about twenty minutes ago, still on the couch. The only way to loosen my muscles was with a boiling hot shower, so I allowed myself while Leena brewed the morning coffee and we waited for Addison to wake up.

"We need to talk."

The words struck a cord so deep inside me that I felt every bone in my body crack ever so slightly. My hands halted on my skin, and the water poured off of me. Thirty full seconds of silence followed, so I finally responded.

"About?"

"Us."

Fuck. She was going to run. She'd become so God damn flighty.

I turned the water off, despite that I still hadn't washed my hair, and swung the curtain open to see her standing, arms crossed, staring at me with deep brown eyes mimicking a doe crossing a highway. She looked me up and down, maybe lingering a fraction of a second longer on my cock.

I grabbed the towel from the rack, and waved a hand at her. "Okay, what do we need to talk about?"

Blinking a few times, she stepped back to give me room to climb out of the shower.

"Well," She cleared her throat. "I've been thinking," I could see the nerves radiating off of her in waves. "we need to decide what we're doing."

I cocked an eyebrow at her after shaking my hair out. "We do?"

This drug a sigh out of her. "Yes? We can't live in limbo forever."

"Define 'limbo', because I thought it was pretty clear." I was taking a chance with my choice of words, but I was going to run with it.

"Clear? I'm kind of living here again, we had sex, we made out for like half an hour last night, but..." She trailed off while following me to the closet.

"But...?"

I disappeared into the open closet. "But," She paused, and I imagined that she was making her frustrated face. "we never resolved anything."

"What do we need to resolve?" I pulled my Henley over my head. "I thought we both made a solid effort to grow from the whole thing."

"Okay, but the original issue-"

I cut her off as I popped out of the closet. "Was Rachel. And she's obviously been dealt with." I pointed to her. "You made sure of that." I smirked, and I saw a slow blush creep up her neck.

"Rachel wasn't the issue. Or the whole issue." She was sitting on the dresser now.

"Alright, so let's talk about it." I dropped down on the edge of the bed, and put my palms up in the air, opening the floor.

She leaned back against the wall, hands folded in her lap, and looked down to the floor. "If we get back together, I don't know how to do this." She shrugged. "The touring, the being alone, all of the girls. It's a lot, Noah."

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees, chin on my hands.

"I feel like I could lose you at a moment's notice. What if you meet someone out there on the road? Someone better? That won't be sitting at home tying you down?"

I just shook my head. "Mileena, I don't want anyone else. Or anything else. You, Addie, and Angel. That's it for me. I don't need anything else."

"I know you say that, and when you do, I believe you. My mind just wanders when I'm at home. It starts with the thoughts, small and ridiculous. But then they grow. You forget to call, or I see a video of you talking to a girl. Then my mind goes wild, and I just don't know how to deal with it. It's maddening." She scrubbed her hands over her face. "It makes me feel insane."

"Hmm," I perused this. My brain was racing, trying to figure out what I could do to reassure her. "I offered to quit."

Her eyes popped open. "No. Absolutely not. I wouldn't allow it."

"Why not?"

"Because, Noah. As much as I love being with you, and would kill to have you all to myself all of the time, I love you too much to see you quit the one thing that makes you that kind of happy." She stared at me, no ounce of falter on her face. "You were meant to do this, and I refuse to let you stop because of me."

Well, hard to argue that.

"Okay, so what is it that bothers you most? What is your worst case scenario?"

Leena looked positively defeated when she spoke, which caused a thin fracture to run through my heart.

"That you won't love me anymore. Won't want to come home to me. That I'll lose you."

"And what can I do? What will show you that it's just not fucking possible?" I begged.

"I don't know. I don't think anything can."

How did we get here? We were so unified. A solid, strong, bulletproof team that could take on anything. And without much effort on either part, we had shattered like glass. We were broken. Our love had fragmented, and even if we tried to keep it together, I just couldn't get the fucking pieces to stick.

Unless...

I jumped off of the bed, the idea sparking through me as a bolt of lightning. It startled her, and she gave me a concerned look.

"I've got to go somewhere." I grabbed my shoes from their place next to the bed.

"What?" I could see the look in her eyes, as if I just swept the rug from under her.

I stopped as I began to brush past her, dropping a hand on her shoulder.

"I'll only be gone a little bit. Back by dinner, I promise."

Her mouth fell open. "Noah, I didn't mean to-"

I clapped a hand over her mouth, forcing her to stop.

"Shhh, nope. Stop. Not right now. I promise, we will finish this conversation, just not right now. Not today."

Releasing her mouth, I bounded out of the room, and trotted down the stairs.

"Wait!" I looked back up at her, at the top of the banister. "The bounce house will be here in an hour!"

"Have them put it in the backyard."

She rolled her eyes. "My Dad's flight gets in at 7."

"And I will be there to pick him up."

She growled. "Where are you going?"

I threw a wink at her before slipping out of the front door.

"You really think this is going to work?" Nick's voice was skeptical, to say the least, as we walked through the mall. "Leena's not one for gifts, you know."

My hands were in my pockets, my nerves making me rip at the cuticles. "Dude, it fucking has to." I chewed my bottom lip. "Where the fuck is this place?!"

"Relax, dude. It's at the very back of the mall." He walked comfortably next to me. "How did this come up, anyway?"

"Dude, I can't get into it or I may fucking pussy out. Let's just go over the plan again?"

He rolled his eyes. "Laura and I will get to the party twenty-minutes late so Mileena is pissed and distracted. I'll have the 'gift' in the car." He quoted himself. "I'll discreetly go grab it during presents. And after cake, you'll give it to her."

I nodded. "What if she hates it?"

He shook his head, laughing to himself. "I don't know, but if she starts flipping out? I am gone."

-

A two-year old's birthday party is a weird setting on it's own, let alone on a day like today. Sun shining, slightly chilly, light breeze. Weird day. Scary day. Potentially earth-shattering day.

Attempts to avoid Mileena's interrogations last night after I got home were only successful due to her Dad being there and keeping her distracted. He didn't know what the plan was. No one did. I was going to catch her so far off-guard, I had hoped it would be just fucking good enough to get her to not lose her shit.

It was a risk.

But what's life without a little risk?

"Happy birthday to you!" Everyone in the room chanted as Mileena walked through the dining room, cake lit with two individual blue candles on the cake holding Bluey's face on top.

"Happy birthday dear Addison." I stood to stand behind her, hand on the small of her back, watching the subtle tears pool at the corner of her eyes.

"Happy birthday to you!" Addie was absolutely enamored, eyes wide and two teeth shining brightly in the glow of the flames.

Leena and I both bent down on either side of where she sat in her highchair, and blew out the candles, earning a round of applause from the large crowd gathered in my home, all here to celebrate this sweet little life we had created.

Once the lights came back up, I couldn't tear my eyes away from her face while she cut the cake, and placed a thick slice on Addie's high chair. We all watched her smush the cake with her hands, shoveling it into her mouth, as we enjoyed our own pieces.

Folios took it upon himself to pull her out of the chair, and take her in to the bathroom to clean her up. Mileena followed to assist.

I stood, nearly trembling now, watching as various children and a few adults bounced in the inflatable house in front of me, taking up most of my backyard. My mind was being pulled in so many different directions. What if she hated it? What if she screamed? What if she ran away? What if I fucked up, again?

A hand clapped the back of my shoulder, pulling me from my thoughts.

"Hey, man." Jolly stood next to me, beer in hand, smiling proudly. "Our girl is two now, hard to believe."

I smiled, baring all of my teeth. "Right? Getting too big, too fast."

He nodded, pulling from the bottle. "You good? You seem a little shaky."

"Yeah," I shrugged, trying to even my breathing. "just thinking."

"Not second thoughts, I hope?" Jolly bumped me with his elbow.

"Not exactly. I can't return it. I just..." I trailed off.

"What, man? What are you so worried about?"

I sighed. "I don't know, dude. What if it doesn't work? What if she leaves again?"

Jolly shook his head firmly. "No. She won't."

My head fell back, frustrated. "You don't know that. You don't know her like I do."

Another gulp of his beer down. "I don't, but I know you."

I looked over at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Man, no two people look at each other the way you guys do. No man feels guilty for just thinking about another woman the way you did. No woman is willing to sacrifice her own happiness for someone else's the way she was." He glanced back over his shoulder at where she had emerged, setting Addison free to go back in the bounce house.

She looked like heaven. Black plain short-sleeved t-shirt. High-waisted white pleated skirt. Long raven hair falling loosely over her shoulders with just the lightest wave to it. No makeup. Chocolate brown eyes shining in what was left of the sunlight.

That was mine. I needed it. I needed it forever.

"The way you're looking at her now." I was brought back to the conversation with Jolly. "That there?" He pointed with his index finger that held the bottle. "That's it for you, man. Don't second guess yourself."

That was it. That was all I needed.

My feet were pulling me toward her, purpose pushing me every step over the grass. She was sitting in a chair, leaning forward to hear what Laura was telling her from where she sat across the table. She was smiling. Fuck, I'm so weak when she's smiling.

I can do this. I can fucking do this.

"Hey, Noah!" Laura's voice brought Mileena's attention to me, craning her neck to stare, a smile still gracing her lips.

"Hey, you okay?"

I gave Laura a small wave, and looked at Leena. "Yeah, why?"

She smirked, turning her body fully toward me. "You look like you're about to be sick."

I was. Absolutely was going to vomit.

"I'm good, I just need to, uh" I scratched the back of my head, which made her raise an eyebrow. "I wanted to..."

I couldn't look at her, which made her suspicious.

"Noah?"

"Huh?" I finally returned her gaze.

"What's going on?"

Closing my eyes for a second, I took a slow, deep breath, and righted myself.

I can fucking do this.

"Can we talk?" I reached a hand for her, which she took, and I caught the shadow of the look that crossed Laura's face. She had made me, I knew she had, but she wouldn't say it out loud.

Leena stood, following as I led her to the middle of the yard, away from too many prying ears, but still within eyesight of the party.

"What's up?" She was confused, and that was okay.

By this time, we had caught the attention of most partygoers, who I could see whispering amongst themselves and watching. I also noticed the music on the Bluetooth had stopped, no doubt to hear what was happening. Nosey fuckers.

I turned so she could face me, back to everyone else.

"I told you that we would finish our conversation from yesterday morning."

She scoffed. "Now? Shouldn't we wait until everyone leaves?"

I shook my head. "No, because if I wait any longer I might actually explode."

Her head cocked slightly to the side, confused. "I'm not following."

"I know. You're not supposed to. I'm bad at keeping secrets, so it's kind of crazy I managed over twenty-four hours without you figuring it out." I smiled a small, hesitant grin.

"What?"

"Mileena, you said that you were afraid that one day, I wouldn't love you anymore? That I won't want to come home to you, and you'll lose me, right? You remember?" My words were spilling over each other, and she was struggling to keep up.

"Yes...?" She was so hesitant. My stomach flipped backwards. What if it didn't work?

"And when I asked what I could do to show you that wasn't possible, you said you didn't know?"

She just nodded. I grabbed her hands.

"Well," I inhaled a big breath. "I don't know either."

Her eyes twitched slightly, like she was waiting on a startle that never came.

"You don't?"

"I don't." I let one hand go, reaching into my sweatshirt pocket. "But," I ran my fingers over the cube, velvet over the pad of my thumb, before I removed it from it's hiding place. "I've got an idea of where to start."

Her eyes darted down to my hand, and the shock blazed over her face.

"What the fuck is that?"

I wasn't going to let it deter me. We've come too far. I sunk down, as traditional as ever.

"Mileena," My hands presented it to her, cracking it at the hinge, the black, coffin-shaped onyx perched on the rose gold band, encrusted with crystals, on full display to her. "it's not that I can't live without you."

"Holy fuck..." Her mouth hung open, eyes glued to the ring in my hands.

"I have just come to learn that I don't fucking want to."

"Noah," The tears began to form. "what are you doing?"

"I'm making it official. No more questions. No more limbo."

She only responded with a small, breathless, squeak.

"Mileena Jane Richards, will you marry me?"

Silence can be so loud sometimes, but here? In that moment? The entire world was without a single, utter sound.

I stared at her, it was all I could do, as I watched the gears turn. Process what I had just asked. And every passing millisecond, I was sure my heart would explode.

"Yes."

And if you're there, to catch me when I fall, then maybe hell ain't so bad after all.

The End

[nerdraging4point0]

The Scorpion and the Scales // Chapter 2 // PolyAU

Tropes and Tags: MF, MFM, MFMM, instalove, too much sex, tattooed musicians, polyverse, friends to lovers.

Content warning: 18+ only MDNI,PinV, PinA, oral (f!recieveing, m!recieving), threesomes, light BDSM, voyeurism, exhibitionism, partner sharing, jealousy, angst.

Credits: Lady V for the title image, firefly images for the dividers

This work below is fictionalized ideas and stories involving real people but does not directly reflect their thoughts, feelings, or behaviors. Please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction.

Active taglist: @ladyveronikawrites @tearfallpixie @beaker1636 @circle-with-me @synthetic-wasp-570 @itsjustemily @thesazzb @vinyardmauro @cookiesupplier @concreteemo @dominuslunae @mountains-to-move @sundamariis @caitcoreeeee @crimson-calligraphyx @letmeadoreyoux @starsomens @artificialbreezy @lma1986 @iknownothingpeople @lilrubles @shilohrosechicken 2@missduffsblog @jessicafg03 @thatchickwiththecamera @mysticdoodlez @chels3a-smile @sinkingteethinwhitenoise @deathblacksmoke @roley-poley-foley @ravieisunhinged @dethronetheveil @to-be-written @somewhere-diamond @somebodyels3 @sacredthefran @th0ughts-pr4yers @bloody-delusion-expert

He stalks the stage on all fours, prowling between the mic stands. The lights beat down, blinding, but he finds the cameras with ease. Their lenses track his every move, hungry for the show. My breath comes hard and fast as he pauses to let the crowd roar. Running his tongue over bared teeth, tasting the thrill of the performance. This stage is his territory and these people are prey. 

The pounding bass reverberated through my chest as I pushed my way to the front of the crowd, as close to the stage as I could get. I was on a mission - I was going to get one of Chris's roses tonight. The lights flashed, blinding me for a second before the music erupted again. I screamed the lyrics at the top of my lungs, throwing my head back, my ponytail whipping around wildly. I was immersed in the primal energy of the concert, losing myself in the performance. As one song ended I jumped and clapped, adrenaline coursing through me. I was ready for more.

The next song built up and the crowd's roar almost drowned out Chris's voice. But I heard him clearly: "Thank you Denver Colorado. You've been a wonderful fucking audience, as always." I grinned - this is exactly where I wanted to be. The music swelled and Chris declared "We are Motionless in White, and we are, Eternally Yours." I screamed my approval, reaching my hands out, hoping a rose would find its way to me.

As he grabbed a handful of roses, I knew this was it - my chance to get close to him. I watched his every move like a hawk zoning in on its prey, ready to snatch a rose if one flew my way.

He tossed roses left and right, igniting screams from the crowd, but not one came my way. Still, the show wasn't over. I clung to hope as the final notes rang out, my eyes glued to the remaining roses in his hand.

Suddenly, the crowd swarmed around me, pushing and shoving. I crouched down, terrified of being trampled under their feet. Sensing the mayhem, he threw more roses to scatter the frenzied fans. It worked, if only for a moment.

Then, he leaned down, singing into the mic while clutching the security guard’s shoulder. I saw his lips move, pointing in my direction. Could it be? Was the rose truly meant for me?

My heart nearly burst as the guard beckoned me forward, the sea of fans parting before me. I reached out, the red rose just beyond my grasp. The guard had to yell over the roar of the crowd, “This one’s for you!”

In that moment, everything else faded away. It was just me and him, connected by the thornless stem. I had claimed my prize.

 "I need you to come with me." I was so confused at first, wondering why he wanted me to follow him backstage. But when he gestured for me to crawl over the barricade, I didn't hesitate - I was going to meet my favorite band! Getting over that huge, wobbly gate was tricky, especially in my concert outfit and heels.

But I made it over and the security guard immediately escorted me through the pumped up crowd, past the stage, and around to the back. I was freaking out inside, knowing I was about to come face-to-face with the band I've adored for years.

There he was - Chris, in all his rockstar glory. He flashed me that crooked smile as he pulled out his in-ears, his lips glistening where my lipstick had been moments before.

"Hey," he said, his voice low and raspy from singing. "Looks like you survived the madness out there."

I giggled nervously, tucking my hair behind my ear. "Yeah, your fans are wild tonight."

He stepped closer. I could smell his cologne, feel the heat radiating from his body. My knees went weak. This was really happening. Me and my rockstar crush, alone backstage. I had dreamed of this moment, but never thought it would come true.

His soft brown eyes met mine from under the brim of his ballcap. "What's your name?" he asked.

"Eve," I managed to respond, my voice barely above a whisper. Before I could say more, the rest of the band came pouring into the green room. Ricky was the only one who noticed me, flashing that heart-stopping smile as he pointed at my faded Nightmare Before Christmas tee. "I love your shirt!" he said enthusiastically. I looked down, having totally forgotten what I was wearing. My MIW shirt was buried in the laundry, but somehow this old ragged tee had caught his eye. I grinned back at him, basking in the glow of this backstage moment.

I could feel my cheeks flush as I stammered out a thank you. Get it together, girl! I scolded myself, trying to play it cool. But his grin made me weak in the knees. Don't freak out, just breathe.

"It's a great movie," he said, those dazzling eyes locked on mine. I melted under his gaze, my blush deepening. Oh my god, was this really happening? I had to bite my lip to keep from squealing like a fan girl.

Somehow I managed to ask for a picture, my voice barely above a whisper. When he nodded, I thought my heart would burst. I fumbled for my phone with trembling hands and leaned in close, his warmth and scent overwhelming me.

My nerves were still on edge when he took my phone from my hands, those tattooed fingers sending sparks across my skin. I tried to play it cool, leaning into him as he wrapped an arm around me. But that smile - I couldn't hide how giddy I was, practically shaking with excitement.

"Alright, now Myspace pose," he said, popping out a hip. I did the same, throwing up a peace sign as we puckered our lips. Goofy as it was, it helped me relax. This was really happening.

"I love that," he said, hitting share and typing something on my phone. I couldn't believe it when I realized - he was putting his number in, sending the selfie to himself. My heart raced thinking about what might come next.

"One for the books for sure," he said with that million dollar smile.

After he sent the pic, I managed to stammer out a thank you. I started to head for the exit, but he stopped me. "Local?" he asked. I nodded, not trusting my voice. Don't leave, don't leave, I pleaded with myself.

"Hungry?" he asked next. I nodded again, unable to form words. He tossed his ear monitors to his tech and adjusted his hat, checking for his wallet and phone. "We'll take your car then. See you guys back at the hotel," he said to his bandmates.

I was screaming on the inside. Chris wanted to go out, just the two of us! I tried to play it cool as we walked to my car, but inside I was freaking out. This was really happening!

When his hand touched the small of my back, my skin tingled. I could feel the heat of his palm through my dress as he guided me towards the exit. My heart pounded as we slipped out the stage door together.

I took the lead, striding towards the parking lot, hyperaware of his presence behind me. I wanted to glance back, to drink in the sight of him, but I kept my eyes forward.

"You sure you can do this?" my voice playful, teasing. "The fans might see you."

I risked a peek. He'd tugged his ballcap low, but I could still make out his grin.

"Maybe they won't notice," he said lightly, fluttering his lashes.

I chuckled. "You're what, 6 feet tall? In designer clothes? Pretty sure that's obvious."

He drew himself up to full height, exaggerating his stature. "6 foot 2, I'll have you know."

My eyes roamed over him appreciatively. "That doesn't exactly make your argument better."

My heart raced as we dashed across the parking lot, dodging fans left and right. I glanced back at Chris and flashed him a playful smirk. "Try to keep up!" I teased. He stayed right on my heels as we weaved between cars, his sneakers squeaking on the pavement. We slid into my sedan just as a pack of fans rounded the corner. Chris dove into the passenger seat and I hit the locks before his door even shut. Tires screeching, I peeled out of the space, fumbling to click my seatbelt as we sped away. Chris was breathless beside me, shaking his head and laughing. "Nice moves back there," he said with an admiring grin. I winked and cranked up the radio, the post-show adrenaline still pumping through my veins.

As Chris and I drove down the empty street, I couldn't help but tease, "You survived our little adventure back there."

"Looks like it," he laughed, sitting up in the passenger seat. Even with the seat all the way back, his legs barely reached the edge. "Short people problems," he joked with an adorable grin.

I bit my lip. Having this handsome Avatar sitting next to me was admittedly distracting. "Sorry, I'm just not used to such captivating company in my front seat."

He raised an eyebrow playfully. "Oh, so now you're poking fun at my height?"

"I would never," I replied, making another random turn just to spend more time together. "I was simply making an observation." I glanced over at him flirtatiously. "So, you mentioned something about food earlier. What exactly should I get for you?"

He grabbed his cap and tossed it aside, letting his freshly bleached blonde fade show running a hand through his hair. When I turned to look at him, he flashed a smirk.

"I asked if you were hungry," he said slowly. "I never said it had to involve food."

I nearly slammed on the brakes right there on that busy street. 

I stuttered and stumbled over my words, trying to confirm what Chris was implying. I couldn't believe a rockstar like him was asking me, a random fan plucked from the crowd, to hook up after the show. A part of me was flattered, but I didn't want to seem too eager.

"I'm not usually so forward," he said with a flirtatious grin, "but I couldn't take my eyes off you tonight."

I blushed, unsure how to respond. This was all happening so fast. But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't intrigued. Chris was gorgeous, talented, and now he was focused entirely on me.

"The hotel's just a few blocks away," he added suggestively. "What do you say we get out of here?"

My heart raced as I considered his offer. Throwing caution to the wind had never been my style, but maybe it was time to be bold. I smiled coyly and said, "Tell me where to turn."

Chris POV

I couldn't get her to the hotel fast enough. Every red light was torture, knowing I could have her in my arms so soon. But she didn't protest or try to leave. The valet took her car and I whisked her upstairs, this tempting stranger I'd been fantasizing about all night.

We barely spoke in the elevator. I couldn't resist any longer - my hands were on her in an instant, shoving her against the wall. I'm rougher than she expected but I know she likes it from the way she gasps and melts into me. I grab her thighs and lift her up, pinning her between me and the elevator wall. Our lips crash together and she kisses me back feverishly, matching my hunger. It's almost midnight so the hotel is quiet. I carry her all the way to my door before setting her down just long enough to get it open.

I pushed her into the room, slamming the door behind us. The space between us evaporated as I took her face in my hands, bringing her lips to mine again. Without the wall to support her, she had to rise up on her toes to reach me. My height advantage meant she was at my mercy, and I liked it that way.

Cherries and fresh water - that's what she tasted like. I wanted more.

She took the lead, licking my lips between hungry kisses. A groan rumbled up from deep inside me as I opened my mouth wider, letting her explore every inch with her tongue. Her taste intoxicated me, leaving me craving another hit.

She pulled back, gasping for air, my flavor lingering on her tongue. I watched her swallow hard, savoring the taste of me. The chase was over. I had her now.

I saw the hunger in her eyes as she breathed, "How long till your band mates get here?" But I just grinned slowly, letting my gaze travel down her body.

"It's my room, baby. Just you and me. I've got all night to take my time with you."

I could tell she was nervous, even as her body ached for me. What can I say? I'm a rock star - I could have anyone. But tonight, I want her.

As if reading my thoughts, she tensed. I smirked, lifting her easily and carrying her to the couch. She gasped, arms circling my neck instinctively. I sat down, settling her in my lap as I gazed into her eyes.

"Relax, beautiful. We've got all night, and I plan on enjoying every minute."

It was a strange question to be asked at this moment. Her hesitation is driving me wild. I need this woman now. "Forget everything else and just feel this moment between us," I say firmly, staring into her eyes. A spark of understanding flashes across her face and she nods, realizing this primal encounter is inevitable.

I watch hungrily as she kicks off her shoes. My pulse pounds as I rip off my gloves and hoodie, baring my muscular, tattooed chest to her hungry gaze. She gasps at the sight of me, desire burning in her eyes. "So sexy," she murmured under her breath. Gripping her waist, I crush my mouth against hers in a searing kiss. She melts against me with a moan and I know she is mine.

Eve reached forward running her fingers over the inked skin, seeing it up close for the first time.

“So, much sexier in person.” Had she really said that out loud?

His chest rumbled under her hands with his laughter, and she looked up to lock eyes with him. Even though his eyes were soft brown she couldn’t help but see the lust behind them. In that moment she forgot all her insecurities, all her doubts, leaning forward to take his lips in a kiss again, both her hands holding the sides of his face.

Her body was like a drug and I couldn't get enough. My hands roamed hungrily over every inch of her - thighs, ass, back - tearing off her shirt in my impatience to feel her skin on mine. A throaty "fuck" escaped my lips at the sight of her in that bra. It didn't matter that it didn't match her panties; all I could think about was ripping it off and taking her right then and there.

She smiled coyly, clearly enjoying the effect she was having on me. Taking my face in her hands, she kissed me deeply, nibbling on my bottom lip. I tangled my hands in her hair, our tongues dancing as I pressed her into the couch. Breaking the kiss, I grabbed her throat, pinning her down. She gasped, surprise mixing with desire in her eyes.

"I wanted to be gentle, but you're making it very difficult, little one." My grip on her throat tightened for a moment, just enough to remind her who was in control. She swallowed hard, fear and arousal spreading through her body. I could tell she was soaked already. This kitten didn't know what she was in for, but she was about to find out.

I felt her tremble beneath me as I growled my demand, giving her a choice between the cramped couch or the spacious bed just steps away. Though the couch barely contained her petite frame, I knew it would be a tight fit for my towering physique. Still, I longed to take her here and now, no matter how confined our movements might be.

Leaning in, I brought my lips to her ear and squeezed her throat just enough to make her gasp. "Tell me what you want, my sweet girl," I commanded, reveling in her whimper of submission.

"Bed," she breathed, her thighs clenching with desire. I released her neck and pulled her to stand, leading her to the expansive hotel bed. Our hands intertwined as I hurriedly shed my pants, eager to feel her soft skin on mine.

I gripped her chin in my hand, my thumb and forefinger tilting her face up to meet my eyes. My pants had already dropped to the floor as I warned her of what was to come.

"I'm going to break you," I growled, relishing the tremble of anticipation that ran through her body. "I'll stop if I see blood or tears, but don't expect any safe words here. If you want me to stop, just say so."

My heart pounded with exhilaration as I drank in the sight of her submission. I could already feel the heat building between us and I knew this was going to be wild. Gripping her chin tighter, I forced her gaze back to mine when it started to stray.

"Eyes on me," I commanded. "I want you completely consumed by passion. By me."

“Take them off.” Her eyes were locked on mine as her trembling hands moved to the button of her jeans. I held her gaze, relishing the heat that rose in her cheeks. She fumbled with the zipper, the rasp of it seeming loud in the charged air between us. I thrilled at the shy peek of lace underwear as she shimmied the denim down, letting it pool at her feet.

"Step out," I commanded, my voice low and rough.

She obeyed, kicking the pooled jeans and her socks away. Clad only in her bra above the waist, she was a vision. I let my gaze travel slowly down her body, watching as her skin prickled under my scrutiny.

"Beautiful," I murmured, reaching out to trace the curve of her hip. She shivered at my touch, eyes darkening with desire. I intended to make her shudder and gasp my name before this was through.

I gripped her hair tightly in my fist, smiling as she whimpered. "Down," I commanded. She obeyed instantly, kneeling before me, eyes darting between my hard length and my dark, penetrating gaze. I could see the desire burning in her as she leaned forward eagerly, licking and sucking me like a starving woman. A low groan escaped my lips as her tongue swirled around my sensitive tip. She knew just how to please me, taking me deeper and deeper into her warm, wet mouth. I lost myself in the intense pleasure, savoring her submission and skill. Gripping her hair, I guided her movements, reveling in the control. She worshipped me with her mouth and I rewarded her with murmurs of approval through gritted teeth.

I tangled my fingers in her hair, holding her in place as I lost myself in ecstasy. Our bodies moved as one, her mouth hot and eager around me. She relaxed her throat, taking me deeper as I quickened my pace. Her eyes watered and spit dripped down her chin, but her muffled moans urged me on.

I was rough, primal, claiming her mouth again and again. She was mine in this moment. I slowed my urgent rhythm and withdrew, admiring the beauty of her ravaged lips. I cupped her face, gazing into her eyes. "You're crying, do I need to stop?" She shook her head, eyes dark with lust. I raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on my lips.

“No sir.” She corrected and his expression softened.

“On the bed.” 

I could feel the anticipation burning through my veins as she crawled onto the bed at my command. She positioned herself halfway towards me, unsure of how I wanted her. But when I moved over her and she fell back against the mattress, she had her answer.

I was already prepared, having ripped open the condom as she made her way up the bed. I rolled it onto my throbbing length, pumping myself a few times as I watched her. Grabbing her leg, I pushed it up towards her chest, opening her to me. I dragged myself over her slick heat a few times, our eyes locked together, waiting for her consent.

"Please," she breathed, and I drove into her with a powerful thrust, stretching her walls around me. She cried out at the sudden fullness, but I gave her no time to adjust. I set a relentless pace, taking her hard and fast. Her pained cries soon shifted to moans of ecstasy as she gripped the sheets.

We moved together wordlessly, our voices mingling in grunts and gasps, the sound of flesh striking flesh. I could feel her tightening around me, and with a few more desperate snaps of my hips, she was coming undone. I increased my tempo, chasing the peak.

"Oh god...I'm gonna cum," I groaned, barely able to form the words through my pleasure. "Fuck...yes...that's it, I'm gonna cum." My rhythm faltered as my orgasm crashed over me, my body shaking with the intensity. Seeing and hearing my unraveling pushed her over the edge again, her inner walls pulsing around me as she cried out her own release.

I rode out the waves of euphoria, panting heavily in the aftermath. She was panting and whimpering beneath me.

I gently released my grip on her thigh, shushing her softly. "Easy, my beautiful creature," I murmured, my voice low and heated. I stroked her leg tenderly, wanting her to feel cared for in the aftermath of our passion. She trembled beneath my touch, sensitive and spent.

I pulled myself out of her and she let out a soft hiss as I left her empty and aching. I quickly pulled my pants back on as she curled up, suddenly shy, trying to cover her flushed body with her arms.

I looked at her, a pang of concern hitting me. I moved slowly, not wanting to startle her. Gently, I grasped her wrists and moved her arms away, nudging her legs open so she wasn't all balled up underneath herself.

"You okay, baby? Did I go too hard?" I asked gruffly, my voice still heated.

She didn't answer right away. I could tell she was still coming down, overwhelmed by the intensity of what we'd just done. But I needed to be sure I hadn't crossed a line. I gently cupped her chin, guiding her to meet my gaze.

"Talk to me. Was that too much?" I asked, my tone firm but laced with care. She finally shook her head, a blissful smile spreading across her face. I grinned in response, relieved, and pulled her against my chest.

"That's my girl," I murmured, pressing a kiss to her hair as I held her.

I watched her wince as she slid off the bed, my rough passion having left her sore. A pang of guilt pierced me. I may have gotten carried away in the heat of the moment.

As she gathered her clothes, I made a silent vow - next time would be different. I'd start slow, savoring her body inch by inch. I'd bring her to the edge again and again, until she was begging me to take her. And afterward, I would hold her close, caressing her velvet skin, whispering how beautiful she was.

"Leaving already?" I ask, tracing a finger along her arm.

She shivers at my touch. "Don't worry, I'll see you next time," she purrs, a sly smile spreading across those luscious lips.

I grin. "Next time?"

She leans in close, her breath hot on my ear. "Well, you have my number. I'll leave that to you."

Before I can react, she presses against me, planting a soft kiss that lingers. As she pulls away, I grab her waist, but she slips from my grasp and saunters to the door.

I watch her go, knowing she won't be able to resist my charms for long. Our time together tonight was only the beginning. I'll be calling her again soon. And next time, I won't let her sneak away so easily.

[nats-revival]

Au: You're a famous popstar on tour, and Abby is one of your backup dancers. You guys get very touchy and flirty during certain songs, and the fans start to notice how playful you're both being with each other. You guys try to hold back from each other, but eventually, you get together and fall for each other.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 𝙘𝙡𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 ꒱ ˎˊ˗ | 𝙖. 𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙤��

pairing: abby anderson x fem!reader

tags: kinda.. loser!abby-ish??, making out, minor touching, yearning for eachother, no smut, would this be fluff?, idk if it is, happy ending, alternate universe - no outbreak, in our popular era!!, LOTS of tension (that’s kinda poorly written), i literally know nothing of how a stage crew works, ive only seen two movies about how tours work, so bare with me

a/n: AYEEEE MUST BE THE MONAAYYYY!! im trying something a lil different (but like.. not rlly..) also!!! this is my first time ever fulfilling a request!!! i hope this is good.. i haven’t written anything for a while. also also!!! i litcherally just remembered this song existed today and (a lil lore), originally i was gonna title this dont stop the music (like the rihanna song) but then this crossed my mind and i translated the lyrics and it just.. fits!!!! 😄 ok last thing, this is the outfit inspo for this fanfic! latrice is sooo pretty and this outfit is fire!!!

The ticket lines were flowing with people, like, lots of them. More than you’d ever seen during your tour. Tonight’s show was in Seattle. Your set started in fifteen minutes and you and your team were going through the logistics of how things would go. You stand there, hands on your hips as you keep a straight and serious face while lending a listening ear, giving a few nods from time to time. Abby couldn’t keep her eyes off of you. Her eyes kept tracing over you. The entirety of you. The oversized denim, the Calvin Klein print across your thong, the black top looking just perfect against your skin, everything drove her insane. She’d have to thank your stylists personally the next time she saw them because each time she found herself looking at you, her face would heat up. A loud clap from the director snapped her out of her trance. She followed the other backup dancers, who were also following you. Before entering the stage, you take a breath and hope for the best.

   You take a few steps on the large stage, smiling as the crowd roars in cheers and applause. You wave as you approach your mic. Your in-ears had already been in and you were waiting for the signal to begin your set. Before this, you thank the crowd for coming and some other things before it begins. It starts off slow, a soft song that hadn’t required much choreography was sung. Your voice had the crowd entranced, smiling and recording you. The band played in the same smooth and entrancing manner you had already set. After the song concludes, you begin moving to your position for the next song. “Song begins in 3.. 2.. 1..” the woman in your in-ears said as a metronome ticked at the same beat of the song. The lights on stage turn red, smoke rises from the stage. The song was sensual and provocative, your voice was smooth (as always) and siren-like. You and Abby find yourself dancing up against each other. Caught up in your song, your hand snakes around her waist as you sing the provocative lyrics to her with half lidded eyes and a small smile. Abby panicked internally. She curses under her breath as you sing to her. Her body heats up and her heart rate increases. She heard the loud noise of squealing and applauding from the crowd. She felt dizzy as you and her parted ways momentarily as you continued singing. Your touch sear on her skin, 1000 degrees is what it felt like to her. Your hands lingered on her body way longer than you practiced. And god, those eyes she gives you. They made you feel a little dizzy. Those green eyes under the red light, the strands of blond hair sticking to her forehead, the way her eyes fluttered whenever she made eye contact with you made your heart flutter. It seemed so unreal, the way her large hands rested on your body whenever the move called for it or how she smiled at you nervously when you got a little too close. Anyone with eyes could see that you both had some kinda feelings for eachother. And this definitely wouldn’t be easy to forget.

   The concert went on for what seemed like forever before you were on your last song. You and the rest of your dancers stand in the middle of the stage, attempting to catch your breath as you hold your ending pose. Abby looks at you and you look at her. The tension from before begins to rise again. It was palpable. “You don’t know what you do to me.” Abby whispered, only for your ears. “I know exactly what I do to you, Abby.” You respond with a smile. After a few more seconds, you finally exit the stage with everyone else. You enter your dressing room, closing the door behind you as you take a few photos of yourself, uploading them to social media before scrolling through your notifications. As usual, they were full of mentions, comments, and likes. They were also full of your little.. moments on stage with Abby. Your body becomes hot as you watch it over. You loved the way she looked at you. Like you were some sort of goddess. Or like you were the most beautiful woman in the world. You find yourself smiling at your phone as you read your comments from your fans talking about the tension between the two of you. 

   As Abby sat with the other dancers, all she could think about was you. “God, you’ve got it bad, Abby.” One woman with curly hair says as she looks at her for a moment, then playfully rolls her eyes. “I’ve got it bad?” Abby acted clueless, but she knew exactly what the woman meant. “Oh shut up, don’t play dumb with. I see exactly how the two of you look at eachother. If you like her that much then you should just like, tell her or something.” The woman suggested with a shoulder shrug, then picking up her phone and texting with someone. In a perfect world, Abby would’ve already asked you out, and she would’ve already been your girlfriend. But she didn’t want you to think she was like, weird or something. “I mean.. the worst she could say is no, right?” Abby mumbles to herself. “Eeexactly. Now go.” The woman suggested with a smile.

   And after that little push, she walks to your dressing room. Her hand trembled on the doorknob. That was just her nerves trying to pull her back into the other room. Her hands become clammy along with her nerves. But Abby’s boots definitely weren’t quiet, and you’d already known she was there. “The doors unlocked.” You yell out to her. “..Goddamnit.” She mumbled to herself as she opened the door, walking in and closing it. You were still looking down at your phone for a moment before you turned it off and look over at her. “Hey.” “Hi.” You smile at her. “So uh, what brings ya here?” “Just wanted to check on you that’s all, but if you’re busy I’ll just go—“ Her hand darts towards the doorknob and you stand up and stop her. “No.. stay. I’m not busy.” Abby never listened to someone so fast. Her eyes meet yours and she looks around the door nervously. There was a small smile on her face. You found her nervous smile cute. You place your hand on her face, gently turning her face to look at you.

   “Keep those pretty eyes on me, Abby.” You whisper to her as you look her in the eyes. Her face heats up again as you speak to her in that soft voice. “God.. why do you do this to me?” She asked as she looked at you. Her eyes linger on your lips and then returning to your eyes. For the time she’d become acquainted with you, never did she think she’d be here feeling so tempted to ask you out. “Abby..” You whispered to her again as you looked at her, getting a little closer to her. “I like you.” “I like you too. Please let me kiss you.” She sounded so needy, and you couldn’t just ignore that voice. Almost in an instant, you crash your lips against hers. It just felt so.. right. And so natural. Her hands gently touch your arm, then your back. She drags her hand up your back and gently resting it on the back of your neck. Her touch left goosebumps across your skin. God she was so gentle, and it drove you crazy. Your hand finds itself entangled in her hair that was wavy, not being in its usual braid. She let out a little whine the more she kissed you. Slowly she pushes her tongue into your mouth, and they dance furiously, intertwining in a passionate dance for a few more seconds before she pulls away to catch her breath. 

   You both look at eachother breathlessly. That moment alone had solidified that you had in fact fallen for eachother. “Again.” Abby says, and you nod before you begin making out again. You stumble towards a small soft. Abby sits down and you straddle her lap. Your lips were on hers for a few moments before moving to her neck. You move slowly, making her wait. Her hands rest on your hips, and occasionally slide up and down your thighs. “God, you have no idea how bad I've wanted this. Watching you all that time, the way you look at me, that voice of yours. It drives me crazy.” For the duration of the tour, you had been restricting yourself. They say not to mix love with your work life, and in some cases it would make sense. But how could you ever do that for a girl this irresistible? Of course Abby restrained herself in the same manner because she didn’t wanna ruin things between the two of you, but now you were here and you had no intention whatsoever about going back to the way things were. Every wall you’d built up had been smashed down by the flurry of emotions Abby brought to you with her touch, her voice, and her want for you. There was no ‘line’ that you could or couldn’t cross, because.. the world is infinite. And in this moment, you felt infinite. And it was all because of her. Your lips trail back up to hers for a moment before she pulls away to say something. “I swear, after this tour, I’ll properly ask you out.” Abby declares as she looks at you. “I can’t wait. I want to be with you now. Abby, I want to be your girlfriend.” You admit as you look her in the eyes. A part of her hadn’t expected that. Her eyes widen a little in shock before she smiled at you. “.. Alright then. We’re officially girlfriends.” She said with a smile before you lean down to kiss her again.

[bitchysouljellyfish]

“El día que me quieras”

Rodolfo Parra/Reader

Inspired by this and the incredible writings of @yeyinde because God their writings are to die for! Title is inspired by the song of the same name by Carlos Gardel! The indented writing is done by yeyinde!

Enjoy!

The ocean is a distant roar beyond the sprawling green cut into the fells. The scent of heliotrope and sun-ripened tomatoes is heavy in the balmy air that pulses around you like a heartbeat.

Your finger taps the porcelain mug on the patio table, eyes soaking in the crystalline shore in the distance, basking in the sun. The warmth. The door slides open. Music from inside drifts out. Los Cojolites. He has a fondness for son jarocho. You can smell the sweet mole he's cooking waft through.

He comes up behind you, hands on your shoulders, thumbs rubbing circles on your bare skin. You lean back, head pressed to his tummy as you squint up at him. He's bathed in ochre from the sun: a halo around him that bleeds into your retinas until all you see his the shape of him. Your pulse quickens.

He smiles down at you, lunar white. Love in shades of vermillion leak from the curve of his mouth.

"Want some company, cariño?"

As if you'd ever say no.

Alejandro introduced you to him.

You were the medic, part of the Task Force 141 that had came to Las Almas to assist with El Sin Nombre. You were dwarfed by the other two men who accompanied you, El Fantasma and Soap who had you tucked into the middle of them, protecting you from harm as you protected them from the Reaper.

"This is Seargeant Major Rudolfo Parra, my right hand man. Ghost, Soap, and Bog." He points to you last, and you give him a smile and a nod and he feels the sun on his face like never before. You were radiant, the stress and trauma gracing your eyes but it didn't stop the rays of hope that shined through them. He almost didn't notice the strange call sign.

"Tengo miedo de los fantasmas." He attempted to joke but got nothing but a flat stare in return. "And...Bog?"

You sighed in exasperation, Soap chuckling and slapping his knee in glee. "Feel free to call me Doc instead, Sergeant Major. Soap is terrible with call signs." And that is where it ended, the conversation going serious as he drove through the streets of his home with the gradual realization that eyes were on him, but they were not vicious.

The name Bog stuck much more easily than Doc, to your dismay he could tell, but he had to admit. It fit you. You bounced back from injuries and stressful situations like the soft ground you were named after, yet you could spew acid at those deserving.

"You be safe huh, Darlin'? Can't be too careful with our good ol'doc." Graves's southern drawl cuts through the comms.

You sighed, irritation and anger apparent in your voice. "It's Doctor or Captain, Commander Graves. I give you respect you give me respect."

"What about Bog?"

"Friends can call me Bog."

"We aint-"

"No."

Soap snickered through the ear piece, Ghost telling them to stay focused before the comms went silent again. You were waiting at headquarters with Rudy and the other members of his unit on standby in case there was any medical emergencies while the others went through the cartel compound.

"Doctor?" He asked, because you certainly didn't look old enough to have one.

You turned with wide eyes, doe like he recalled, before smiling and showing your ID card. "Got it while I was enlisted, then I went to Officer Candidate School and the rest is history."

"Your family must be proud, as should your team to have such capable hands with them." He turned his chair so he was resting his arms on the back, one eye and ear out on the cameras.

"Gaz thinks differently, says I'm a torturer with a needle but that's just because he's afraid of them." Then you put a finger to your lips and pursed them, winking at him so slyly that it made his heart leap into his throat. "But I'm not supposed to tell anyone that."

He laughed, resting his head on his hand and tried to keep the admiration out of his eyes. "You have my word, bonita, I won't tell a soul."

You and him spoke like that for ages, only breaking when the on ground team needed something. Your chairs were significantly closer together than when you had started.

He had become so smitten with you in the small time he had known you that when they were relieved of duty he didn't want to end the conversation. He walked you back to a room just for you, female soldiers weren't common in Mexican Special Forces, talking low and walking slow as to prolong his time with you. You had told him about your home in America, somewhere cold that got snow every once in a while and he had watched as you spoke animated about what you would do with your family.

"What about you Rudy? Any experience with snow?"

"Enough to know I am not built for it," he laughed, "No, my home is by the coast, with plenty of warmth for the rest of my days."

"Oh a beach man huh? Am I gonna get the chance to see you in a speedo?" You smirked at him, stopping at your door and peering up at him through your lashes.

"I am Mexican, Bonita, not European, but..." all of the confidence he had managed to keep throughout the night melted away suddenly. Shaking hands reached for your fingers, just enough for them to curl around your knuckles and you held them twice as tightly. "I could take you, some day, when this has calmed down. You would like it. I will make you so much food and drinks you would not know what to do with it all."

You stepped forward and kissed his cheek, feather light and petal soft but it was enough to knock him off his feet. "Its a date. Good night Rudy."

"Buenos noches, bonita."

He had watched you, passing glances through the time you spent with Los Vaqueros and became entranced. You were intelligent, witty, funny, beautiful, and strong, you had to be to carry wounded from the field but it did nothing to rough up the hands you had touched him so delicately with.

Yet those hands, oh those hands, were sculpted by angels he was sure.

You had patched him up after Hassan Zyani left him for dead and Alejandro, his brother in all but blood, saved him from the building, blood running down his head and barely able to walk he was so dazed. He remembered you laying him down, cold water on his face and you soft eyes and gentle hands on his skin and he thought it was heaven. You barked orders to get medical supplies, but made your voice soft and warm when you spoke to him. He noticed then that you always did that, when it was just the two of you or when the attention was away, you spoke to him as if he something soft and gentle to and by God he was.

He was clay in your hands, clay to be molded and shaped to fit into your shape so that your radiance could heat him and bring him back to life so that he may support you and hold you and keep you safe.

"I think a new call sign is in order, hermosa." He whispered, numb to the pain in his head as he raised a hand to hold your face.

"Shh, Rudy, hold still. I'm almost done." You caught his hand, squeezing it tightly as you wrapped the bandages around his head.

"I think Angel is much more fitting. Eres un ángel, esos suaves toques solo podrían pertenecer a una." You smiled and finished the bandages, looking down at him with fondness as you held his hand to your chest.

"I think you have a concussion."

"Perhaps," he shrugged and used his other hand to grasp your cheek. "Or perhaps I have died and the angels had no other choice but to use your face, although I hope that is not the case. I still have to take you to the coast." He struggled to keep his eyes open as the pain medication you gave him started to take effect.

Rodolfo felt something then, firmer but still soft as roses on his lips. "You better." He heard you say, another gentle touch on his forehead that he couldn't recognize before slipping unconscious.

The next time he would kiss you would be just before you left, Valeria in custody and the plane that would cart you away from him waiting behind you. You take his hand and press an envelope into it. "I'm a romantic." You explained, "Write to me?"

He cradled your face and pulled you close, kissing your lips with as much gusto and adoration he could fit into it before he could lose his nerve. The feeling of your arms wrapped around his neck would soon become a favorite of his.

"I will." One more kiss to your lips and you were away.

It would be another six months before he could hold you in his arms again, swinging you around once you came off the airport terminal and committing the sound of your laugh to memory. He wasted no time in taking you to his villa, one hand on your thigh as he drove and you resting against his arm.

And soon the ocean is a distant roar, muffled by the sounds of his Los Cojolites and the sizzling of breakfast he was cooking. The scent of heliotrope and sun-rippened tomatoes is heavy in the balmy air that pulses in time with his heart. His shirt open and revealing the marks you had given him the night before and that morning and he sees you, sitting on the veranda with a cup of coffee and tour own marks on display. Rodolfo smiles and walks out, settling behind you with a hand on your shoulder and another under your chin as he looks at you with nothing but love.

"Want some company, cariño?"

And he knows you could never say no.

[lostfirefly]

I'm still learning about life, my woman brought children for me, so I can sing them all my songs, and I can tell them stories

As always, this story wasn't planned to be written because I still don't know if Buggy and Catherine will have children. Anyway, I wrote a variation on the "What If" series of them having kids. Thanks to anon for the request! I had a lot of fun writing this fic. I hope you enjoy it too. The same plot is planned for Buggy and Reader. English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :)

Masterlist is here.

Description: One morning if Buggy and Catherine had kids.

Warning: Buggy and Catherine (OC from You've Got the Same Dream as Me series). Fun, fluff, lots of love, a small references to the original story.

WC: 3320

Taglist: @gingernut1314, @operationroots, @hey-august, @emmiebugz-blog, @mydearlybeloathed

The title is taken from “7 Years” by Lukas Graham.

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“Okay, girls, go and pester your dad!” Catherine gently pushed the two girls into the bedroom. She opened the door to the room where a loud snoring could be heard. “See that body? Do you remember that it has something to do with you too?” 

“Daddy!!! Daddy!!!” The children ran to the bed, quickly climbed onto it and started jumping. “Wake up! Wake up!!” 

“What the hell? Who is this? Leave me alone!!” Buggy waved his hand, mumbling in a sleepy voice. 

“You're so funny!!” One of the girls laughed loudly and pocked Buggy in his head. “That's us!! Evelyn and Aurora!! Wake up!!!” They started tickling him.

“Leave me alone!! I’m sleeping! Cotton candy-y-y!!!” Buggy roared into the pillow.

“Don't yell, my love, I'm here.” Catherine leaned over the doorway and watched a cute child act of terrorism.

“Da-a-d!” Aurora grabbed Buggy’s arm and tried to lift it up. “You’re so heavy! Get up!! We made you breakfast! Mom taught us to cook your favorite dish!” 

“Fu~!” Buggy rolled onto his back, barely opened his eyes and looked at the two little bodies jumping on him. 

They were his daughters. His and Catherine's daughters. The eldest was Evelyn, Buggy named her after Catherine's mother. A 6 years old girl with blue hair like his and his green eyes. The youngest was Aurora. She was born in March at dawn. And Catherine suggested the name because it was associated with her favorite subjects - goddess and mythology. Of course, Buggy couldn't refuse her. Aurora was 5. With red hair and beautiful green-blue eyes as if the color of his and Catherine's eyes crossed together.

Buggy adored his daughters. Yes, he grumbled when they sat him down to play with dolls and had doll tea parties, he grumbled when they braided his hair, he grumbled when they asked him to show chop chop tricks. The first time the girls saw his powers, they were very scared. Buggy and Catherine were sitting in the bedroom, remembering their morning by the fire, when Catherine admired his chop chop thing. The girls unexpectedly ran into the room to give his dad an evening hug, and saw Buggy was sitting on the bed without an arm. Evelyn and Aurora became scared even more when they saw Catherine with his arm in her hands. Catherine had to calm them all down that evening. First the children, explaining to them that daddy's powers were cool, and then all night she spent calming down a sobbing Buggy, who thought the kids thought he was a monster. 

Within a couple of days, the girls were already asking to show them chop chop tricks. Buggy refused for a long time at first, afraid to scare them again, but he gave in under the pressure of four beautiful eyes. Catherine made her daughters promise not to tell anyone about their daddy's chop chop. Buggy admired this. She continued to protect him. She continued to find time for him, visiting him at the circus, throwing parties and organizing picnics. Yes, life had changed a little, but Buggy admired the fact that Catherine tried to preserve the atmosphere of their relationship before they had children. He loved it when she came to him with sandwiches, loved it when she dragged him out for walks to spend time together. Buggy loved to watch when Catherine, Aurora and Evelyn sat on the couch and read books. His three most beloved women in the world. The only thing he was very worried about was that his daughters both inherited his nose. 

As Buggy watched the children attack him, memories came flooding back to him. 7 years ago, he walked into the bedroom and saw Catherine sobbing in the chair. At first, he was scared that he had done something wrong, until she told him that she was pregnant. For several hours Buggy was in the same shock as she was, but they talked and decided that they wanted to keep the child. The pregnancy was difficult. Catherine cried constantly and was constantly nauseous. Buggy tried to support her as best he could, but it didn't always work out. They would occasionally have big fights because Catherine's hormones made her yell at Buggy for every misdeed and then cry because she yelled at him. And he didn't always know how to react correctly. The birth was difficult. Very difficult. Catherine lost a lot of blood. Evelyn was born weak and spent some time in a special box. Buggy was really afraid he would lose his wife and his daughter in one day. When Buggy took Evelyn in his arms and saw her red nose, he became upset. Catherine noticed his sad expression and started crying again. When they came back home at first they were completely at a loss because they had no idea how to handle children. Nothing Catherine had read in books was much help. Evelyn cried all the time and drove them crazy. Catherine hardly slept or ate, and lost a lot of weight. She constantly cursed Buggy for the day he attacked her when he came home from tour. But over time, everything got better. 

A year later, three weeks after celebrating the "you didn't leave me in the desert" anniversary, Catherine began to feel sick again. The second pregnancy and the birth were even more difficult than the first. The situation that was with Evelyn practically repeated itself with Aurora. They spent several days in the hospital again, and Buggy never left Catherine's side, holding her hand the whole time. He would never admit, of course, that he was worried and afraid of losing her. After they came back from the hospital, Catherine lay in bed for three months and cried constantly. Buggy tried to tolerate her mood swings as she always did with his mood swings. Catherine appreciated his support, although she had a hard time with the recovery period. But Buggy did great. He helped Catherine with kids using his chop chop abilities. He brought her the most unusual fruits and flowers. She had never heard so many words of love addressed to her, even in periods of anger when Catherine threatened to bury Buggy's dick somewhere in a sarcophagus. It had been a difficult time for both of them. But as always Catherine told him, “Our crew got out of this storm too.” And now his two daughters were jumping around him, and his beloved wife was standing in the doorway.

“Well, get up, daddy!!” Evelyn pushed Buggy in the shoulder. 

“Mother fu~!” Buggy tried to restrain his swearing in front of the children, but it didn't always work. “Girls, why don't you pester that red-haired woman in the corner?” He pointed at Catherine with his arm. 

“Because they helped that red-haired woman make your favorite pancakes. Now it's your turn to suffer.” Catherine laughed. 

“Yes, we also made up a song.” Evelyn squeaked, jumping on the bed. “Mom said that you like songs.”

“A song for me?” Buggy looked at his daughters in surprise. 

“Yes! Listen!” Aurora stood up on the bed, waved her hair and started singing. “We-e-e're making pancakes for daddy, because he loves this food so-o-o mu-u-uch. We-e-e-e'll pour a lot of syrup on them, and then we'll bring dad to the kitchen.” 

“Bravo!!!” Catherine clapped her hands. 

“This is the best song in the world!” Buggy joined in her applause and watched as the girls began to jump on him even harder with joy. 

“Show us chop chop tricks!! Chop chop tricks!! Chop chop tricks!!!” Aurora sat on the bed and started pushing Buggy in the shoulder. He didn't know whether to grumble or smile, because at these moments she reminded him of Catherine, who, even after many years of relationship, tugged at his shoulders in the same way.

“No, no chop chop things before breakfast!” Catherine shook her head, throwing Buggy’s shirt over her shoulders. 

“But mo-o-om!!” Evelyn pouted and crossed her arms.

“Oh, come on, Cathie-pie! Hey, my sweet cakes, look!” Buggy separated his hand and sent it to the drawer for chocolate chip cookies. Amid the girls' delighted sighs, a hand brought a box. “Here you go. These are mom's stash, the most delicious cookies in the world!”

“Chop chop! Chop chop!” The girls clapped their hands happily. “Our dad is the best because he has his chop chop!!” 

“Okay! Evy, Aurora. Stop jumping on your dad, we still need him. I still need him. Better go to the kitchen and put the plates on the table, we'll be there in a minute.” Catherine went to the bed and pushed her daughters by the shoulders. 

“Wait, mom! We want to kiss daddy!!” The girls started kissing Buggy on the cheeks, and he pulled them close. “We love you-u-u till the moon and back, and ten thousand more times around!!”

“Love you too, my sweet cakes.” 

“Don't choke daddy, girls." Catherine watched as Buggy kissed his daughters on the cheeks. “That's it, Evelyn, Aurora. Go to the kitchen. Now.” 

“Aurora, come on!” Evelyn grabbed her sister's hand. “Mom and dad need to kiss!”

“Eww, they don't do that!” Aurora made a face and I stuck out her tongue in disgust. “They can't kiss. That's for young people! Our dad is old!” 

“They do, they do.” Evy nodded. “I saw it! Yesterday! When they were in the kitchen. They kissed like adults!!” 

“Ew, ew, ew! Stop it! I don't want to see it!!” Aurora closed her eyes and ran out of the bedroom squealing. 

“See? Aurora even screws up her face like you!” Catherine laughed, sat down on the bed and began to stroke Buggy's head. "Good morning, my blue-haired love." Smack. “You owe me cookies.”

“Morning, cotton candy.” Buggy glanced at Catherine’s pants. “Sheep on your pajama pants today. I like it.” He sat down on the bed and put one arm around Catherine's waist. “No! Aurora's your exact replica.”

"Are you kidding me, clown?” Smack. “She only has the color of her hair from me. Our children are copies of you, Buggy. I knew that life would punish me for falling in love with you.”

“It's not true. They took their beauty from you. And my terrible nose.” Buggy exhaled sadly. “They will be offended because of this. It’s my fault. If I was no~”

Catherine put her finger to his lips. “Don't say such terrible things about the man I love. You have a beautiful nose. And it doesn't spoil you or them. And I know their dad won't allow anyone to hurt his daughters.” Smack. “I'm glad that they took your distinctive feature. I even envy you. You have the same characters, beautiful noses, they have your eyes, It seems as if I'm not from your family.”

“If you want, we can start making a third one today, one that will look like you." Buggy pulled her close, winked and kissed her on the lips, feeling Catherine immediately wrapped her arms around his neck.

“See? I told you! They're kissing! Like adults!” Evelyn's whisper came from behind the half-open door. 

“E-e-e-e-e-eww!!!!”  

“Close the door!!” Catherine answered sternly, but calmly.

The door slammed, and loud laughter came from behind it. 

“Don't you miss it? The times when it was just you and me?” Catherine stroked Buggy’s hair. 

“Well, we can always give our kids to another family or a fucking traveling circus if we get tired of them.” Buggy kissed her on her forehead.  

“Dear god, Buggy!! First you wanted to leave me in the desert, and now you're suggesting we give the kids to a traveling circus?” 

“Fuck! It's been 11 years since the desert. I didn't leave you!” Buggy kissed her on the lips, nestled in her armpit and sighed. 

“What happened, little bear?” Catherine kissed the top of his head. 

“It's so weird. You, Evy, Aurora. I have a real family now.” 

“You deserve it all, my silly clown. I'm so proud of you. You're a wonderful father. And I'm glad we didn't turn into boring parents and we still find time for each other. Oh! Let's drop the kids off at Cabaji and Mohji tomorrow, and spend some time together?” 

“And go for your stupid walk? Ok.” Buggy took Catherine’s hand and kissed it. “How did I even have kids?”

“I warned you, asshole. If you continue attacking me without well.. you know.. it won't end well one day. See? I was right. Two girls.” Catherine smacked him on his head again. 

Buggy looked at her. It seemed unusual to him that even after 11 years of relationship, his endless screw-ups and getting into trouble (he still does, by the way), Catherine looked at him exactly the same way as on the day he picked her up from the airport. 

“You're so beautiful, Cathie-pie.” Buggy said quietly and kissed her hands.

“It's not true. I'm old and there are more wrinkles around my eyes. Because one handsome clown still makes me laugh every day.” 

“Just laugh? You offended me to the core, baby. And there’s still something else I can do if you’ve forgotten what happened the day before yesterday.” He sat on his knees and tried to kiss her neck.

“Are you crazy? Not now, Buggy!” Catherine pecked him on his nose. “Let's go to the kitchen before our daughters destroy everything.” She kissed him on the lips, took his hand and dragged him to the kitchen. They entered the room and saw Evelyn and Aurora diligently laying out forks. 

“Let's do like mom, Evy! She always sings when she sets the table.” They began to hum a melody. “We-e-e’re setting the plate-e-e-es, we are gonna eat pancake-e-es.”

“You are so good, girls!” Catherine clapped her hands. “Now everyone quickly sits down!” She kissed the girls on the head. As Catherine poured juice and coffee, she watched with an edge of her eye as Buggy squatted down next to his daughters to adjust Evy’s glasses and stroke Aurora's hair. Catherine smiled, put plates with pancakes on the table and sat down next to Buggy, watching as he happily began to eat the food. “Tasty?” She started stroking his head. 

“It's been tastier for eleven years now, Cathie-pie.” Buggy sipped his coffee, chewing his breakfast with a full mouth.

“Oh, dad!” Aurora mumbling with a mouthful of food. “Tell us our new favorite fairy tale again. About the brave Prince and the Sand Monster!!” 

“What?” Catherine looked at three chewing faces in a row.

“Yesterday,” Evelyn poked at the pancakes with her fork, also chattering with her mouth full, “in the evening dad told us a fairy tale about Prince Bara Bara and the Sand Monster. Now this is our second favorite fairy tale, after the story about the prison and the nasty rubber boy.”

“How interesting. Was there a Princess in this sand story?” Catherine took a sip of coffee, took one pancake and looked at Buggy. 

“Yes!” Evy nodded. “Princess Candy was the most beautiful girl in the world and she was in danger. And Prince Bara Bara saved her several times. They were in the desert and were looking for a cave with treasures. Because the princess wanted to find the stone of love.” Evy sighed romantically. “The stone of love.. And along the way, they had riddles and adventures!!” 

“Can you imagine, mom?!” Aurora splashed her hands with emotion. “Riddles and adventures!” 

“Can’t be! And what else happened in this fairy tale?” Catherine rested her elbow on the table and placed her chin on her hands.

“Oh, there were a lot of interesting things.” Evy ate another pancake and continued telling the story with almost full mouth. “There was a Sand Monster. He also wanted to find the treasure. The stone of power! The Monster threatened Princess Candy and took her prisoner, he hoped the Prince would lead him to the treasure. But Prince Bara Bara wasn't afraid of him! Bara Bara scared away the Monster with a sword and saved Princess Candy. She was so scared and cried like a child when she realized that she was safe next to the fearless and delightful Bara Bara. But the Sand Monster didn't give up and was chasing Bara Bara and Candy on a flying dragon!” Evelyn told the story with a passion. 

“On a flying dragon?” Catherine rounded her eyes and glanced at Buggy, who was eating his breakfast calmly. 

“Don't interrupt, mom!” Evy squealed. “Yes, on the dragon. But the Prince was not afraid of him and simply chased him away. But as I said the Sand Monster didn't give up and followed them to the cave with treasures. Princess Candy was scared and constantly hid behind Prince Bara Bara.” Both daughters signed romantically in unison. “This is not surprising. He was so brave and handsome. Oh, oh! The Prince was also very smart and easily solved all the riddles!” 

“Really?!” Catherine didn’t know how not to laugh. She looked at Buggy, who was refilling his daughters' juice with a nonchalant face.

“Thanks, dad! Yes, mom!” Aurora nodded and sipped her juice. “Bara Bara was very brave and smart. He was not afraid of a-ny-thing. And when he saved the Princess for the thirtieth time…”

Catherine choked on her coffee. “The thirtieth???”

“Yes! Don't be surprised, mom!” Evy staring at Catherine not understanding her surprise. “Princess Candy was always getting into trouble, and Prince Bara Bara was forced to help her. And then, when they reached the cave and were about to find the treasure, Princess Candy misread one sign on the wall of the cave and ruined everything. No wonder, she wasn't very smart, apparently.”

“Yep, not very smart.” Aurora nodded and ate two pancakes.

“Oh, oh!” Evy clapped her hands. “And when the cliff, where they were looking for treasure, began to collapse, the Prince grabbed the Princess in his arms.”

“Really?” Catherine leaned back on the chair and crossed her arms. 

“Yes! Princess Candy was frightened and cried. She was afraid to jump herself. So, Bara Bara grabbed her and jumped into the abyss with her. He's so brave, mom!!” The girls sighed and rolled their eyes dreamily. “Prince Bara Bara captivated Princess Candy with his charm and she couldn't help but fall in love with him. Dad told the story better. Come to our room tonight and listen to it, mom. Daddy, you'll tell it again tonight, won't you?”

Buggy nodded. 

“Oh, I'll be there for sure.” Catherine laughed.

“Oh, oh!” Evy snapped her fingers. “Dad said that the Princess wanted to leave for her kingdom, but the Prince stopped her. You see? She found love without the stone. The Prince proposed to the Princess and took her to his castle. I bet they are happy together like you and dad. I bet you must have an interesting dating history, too.”

“Something like this.” Buggy looked at Catherine and winked. 

“Prince Bara Bara is wonderful, isn't he, mom? I wish I could meet someone like him.” Aurora put her chin on her hands and signed. “Handsome and brave.” 

Catherine giggled, watching Buggy blush as he ate pancakes. “What a wonderful story! Agree, from what I heard Bara Bara was a very brave and wonderful man.” She began to stroke his back. “And although he was sometimes a dreamer, the Princess didn't stand a chance. I'm sure Princess Candy is very happy with her Bara Bara in his castle and she loves him very much. So much so that she forgives him a lot.” 

“You have to admit, Cathie-pie, he was a cool guy.” Buggy crossed his arms and looked at smiling Catherine. 

“Why was? I’m sure, he’s still cool!” Catherine moved closer to Buggy, kissed him on the lips, saying quietly. “I love you, my Prince Bara Bara.” 

“I love you too, my Princess Candy.” He kissed her back. 

“I told you, they kiss!” Evy whispered. 

“E-e-e-e-ew!!!”