Sobbing Because I'll Be 26 When Seventeen's Ot13 Comeback Comes Out

sobbing because i'll be 26 when seventeen's ot13 comeback comes out

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

the military done untwinkified jimin this is absolutely wild

im tryna fuck you and ur bestie or wtv offset said

professor (교수님) — kim namjoon (김남준)

✧.* 18+

the classroom was a haven of knowledge, a place where the boundaries of your mind were pushed and expanded. every time you walked through those doors, you were met with an air of possibility, the faint scent of old books mingling with the fresh anticipation of discovery. all of the professors had ways of making the most complex concepts feel within reach, of turning abstract theories into tangible truths that you could almost hold in your hands.

they spoke with a quiet confidence, their words weaving intricate patterns that painted the vastness of the world before you. each lecture was a journey, guiding you through the twisting paths of philosophy, literature, and history. they had a gift for connecting seemingly unrelated ideas, showing you how the art of renaissance painters could influence modern technology, or how ancient philosophies could still hold relevance in the digital age. under their guidance, you realized that learning wasn’t just about absorbing information; it was about seeing the world through different lenses, understanding the interconnectivity of all things.

you delved into texts that explored the human condition, the nature of existence, and the purpose of life. you wrestled with questions that had no easy answers, questions that required you to look within yourself for understanding. it wasn’t just about gaining knowledge for the sake of it—it was about applying what you learned to your own life, using it as a tool to navigate the complexities of existence.

but among all the things you studied—science, art, history, language—there was one thing that stood out as the most important: the lessons you learned. these weren’t found in any textbook or taught in any lecture. they were the lessons life had already carved into your soul, shaped by your experiences, your failures, your triumphs. under your own guidance, you came to understand that the most valuable knowledge you could acquire wasn’t about facts or theories. it was about the wisdom you gained from living, from making mistakes, and most importantly, from learning from those mistakes. in the end, it wasn’t just the information you gathered that mattered, but how you used it to grow, to become better, and to understand the world and yourself more deeply. if only you had put those lessons learned to better use.

you hadn't been taught the lesson of love, not in the way you had learned about history or philosophy. love was never something you could study in a textbook or learn through the wisdom of others. it was a lesson you learned by living it, feeling it, enduring it. but you had always trusted too easily, believing that everyone who offered you a kind word or a gentle touch had your best interests at heart. it was a trait that made those around you frustrated, watching as you opened yourself up to hurt time and again. even you, in quieter moments of reflection, found yourself exasperated by your own naivety. but you couldn't help it; trusting others came as naturally to you as breathing.

so, it was no shock—no surprise, really—when you got your heart broken for the first time. you were in your early twenties, a time when many had already experienced their share of heartbreaks and fleeting romances. you, on the other hand, had waited. you had held out for something real, something lasting, thinking that by doing so, you could avoid the pain that others had endured. but love, as you learned, didn't work that way.

for two years, you were caught up in what you thought was a love that would last forever. you built your life around it, around him. you imagined a future where the two of you would wake up side by side, where you would make breakfast together in a sunlit kitchen, sharing quiet moments over coffee. you dreamed of nights spent stargazing, your fingers intertwined as you pointed out constellations, finding comfort in the steady light of the north star. your idea of forever was simple, yet profound: it was the promise of a shared life, of growing old together, of finding peace in each other's presence.

his idea of forever was something else entirely. it was a fleeting thing, something that could be found at the bottom of a bottle of vodka or in the anonymity of a cheap motel room. it was in the arms of whoever he could get his hands on first, someone who wasn’t you. the realization that he had been unfaithful—repeatedly, with over fourteen different girls—shattered the image of the life you had built in your mind. every girl was another crack in the foundation of your trust, another tear in the fabric of your heart. it wasn’t just the betrayal that hurt, but the way you had been so blind to it, so willing to believe that what you had was real.

you were devastated, to say the least. the pain wasn’t just emotional; it was physical, a deep ache that settled in your chest, radiating through your entire body. the nights were the hardest. you would lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying every moment of your relationship, trying to pinpoint where it had all gone wrong. you wanted to understand how the love you had given so freely could have been so thoroughly disregarded. but no matter how many times you turned it over in your mind, you couldn’t make sense of it.

the worst part was that you couldn’t even be angry with him. you wanted to be—to scream, to curse him for the way he had treated you—but all you felt was a hollow sadness. you were disappointed in him, but more so, you were disappointed in yourself. how could you have let this happen? how could you have been so foolish, so trusting? you had always prided yourself on being smart, on being able to see through people’s intentions, but when it came to him, you had been blind.

the nights following your heartbreak were long, seemingly endless. sleep was a distant stranger, slipping through your fingers every time you tried to grasp it. Instead, you spent those hours in late-night conversations with your friends, searching for solace in their words. their voices were a lifeline, pulling you from the depths of your despair, even if just for a little while. you talked about everything and nothing, dissecting the intricacies of your failed relationship, trying to find some sense of closure that always seemed just out of reach.

those talks were punctuated by silences filled with the quiet clicking of a lighter, the soft exhale of smoke as you shared a joint or two. the haze it brought was a welcome escape, a way to dull the sharp edges of your thoughts, to ease the relentless ache in your chest. it wasn’t a solution, but it was enough to get you through the night, to carry you to the next day. and on those days when the darkness seemed to press in too close, you relied on the small comforts you could control—a coin flipped to decide whether you would indulge in a few too many sweets or abstain from food altogether. it was a way of exerting some semblance of control over a life that felt like it was spiraling out of your grasp.

but after weeks of the same routine, you began to realize that you were merely existing, floating in a limbo of your own making. the conversations, the indulgences, the vices—they were all temporary fixes, distractions that couldn’t mask the hollow feeling that had settled in your chest. you were tired of it, tired of feeling like a shadow of yourself, tired of being weighed down by the remnants of a love that was never truly yours.

and so, one night, as you stared into the mirror, you made up your mind. you were going to step out of the bubble you had been living in, to let loose, if only for a single night. you reasoned that if he could spend two years indulging in every whim and desire, seemingly without consequence, then why couldn’t you do the same for just one night? why couldn’t you, for once, allow yourself the freedom to be someone else, to cast aside the constraints of who you were and embrace something—someone—new?

as you stood there, gazing at your reflection, you barely recognized the person staring back at you. your makeup was bold, the colors striking and uncharacteristic of your usual understated look. the dress you wore was scandalous, clinging to your curves in a way that made you feel both powerful and exposed. it was a look that screamed confidence, even if you didn’t fully feel it yet. but that was the point, wasn’t it? you were going to stop being you for just one night, just enough time to forget, to drown out the memories of a love that had never truly been yours.

you inhaled deeply, letting the air fill your lungs, steadying yourself for what was to come. Yyu weren’t sure what you were seeking—perhaps a fleeting connection, a momentary escape, someone who could make you forget all about him for a few hours. maybe you didn’t need to know. maybe it was enough to simply let nature take its course, to surrender to the night and whatever it might bring.

the club pulsed with a life of its own, the heavy bass thumping through the floor, reverberating in your chest as the neon lights cast erratic shadows across the crowd. bodies moved in sync with the music, a sea of motion and sound that made it easy to lose yourself if you let it. but your mind, despite the alcohol and the haze of smoke in the air, remained annoyingly sharp, focused on anything but the moment at hand.

you leaned closer to your friend, your voice slightly raised to be heard over the music. “did you hear about the new english and philosophy teacher? they’re replacing—”

ahe groaned, cutting you off with an exasperated look. “please,” she begged, placing a hand on your arm, “not tonight. can we just, for once, not talk about teachers or school or anything remotely responsible? we’re here to let loose, remember?”

you hesitated, the words dying on your lips. she wasn’t wrong. you were supposed to be here to escape, to forget, not to get caught up in the mundane details of your everyday life. but old habits died hard, and it was difficult to switch off the part of you that found comfort in routine and order, even when surrounded by chaos. still, you nodded, forcing a smile, and took a deep breath, letting the noise and the lights and the sheer energy of the place wash over you. “okay,” you said, more to yourself than to her. “okay, let’s do this.”

your friend grinned, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she reached for the bottle on the table. the label was foreign, the name of the alcohol something you couldn’t even begin to pronounce. that should have been your first warning, but tonight was all about ignoring those little voices of caution in your head. she poured a shot for you, and then one for herself, the clear liquid shimmering under the lights. “bottoms up,” she said, lifting her glass.

you mirrored her action, the cool glass pressed against your lips as you downed the shot in one swift motion. the burn was immediate, searing down your throat and settling heavily in your stomach. it was unpleasant, but it was also a distraction, a welcome one at that. you had no intention of focusing on the men who watched you from across the room, their eyes lingering on your exposed skin as if you were some kind of display piece. it made your skin crawl, but you forced yourself to ignore it, to focus on the drinking instead. the coin had been flipped, and tonight, apparently, drinking it all away was your new diet. so you did just that. another shot, then another, until the sharp edges of your thoughts began to blur and the leering gazes of strangers became easier to dismiss.

but then, in the midst of it all, you saw him. he was standing at the edge of the crowd, partially obscured by the throng of people. you didn’t see much at first, just a tall figure with a presence that drew your eye. He was turned slightly away, talking to someone, but something about him caught your attention, held it. you found yourself staring, your curiosity piqued in a way that the alcohol couldn’t dull. and then he turned around.

your eyes met, and the world seemed to slow for a moment, the noise around you fading into the background. he was gorgeous, that was your first thought. his features were sharp, striking—high cheekbones, a jawline that could cut glass, and eyes that were dark and intense, holding a depth that made you feel as though he could see right through you. there was a sweet smile on his lips, but it was his eyes that captivated you. there was something almost menacing in them, a contrast that sent a shiver down your spine.

he didn’t look away, and neither did you. for a moment, it was as if the two of you were the only ones in the room, a silent understanding passing between you despite the fact that you didn’t know him, and he didn’t know you. but that didn’t matter. not tonight. before you could second-guess yourself, you did something you wouldn’t normally do. you flashed him a smile, one that you hoped was confident, maybe even a little alluring, and silently prayed that the universe would take your side for once. that, just this once, everything would fall into place.

you turned back around, the music vibrating through your body as you reached for another drink, your hand shaking slightly as you grasped the cool glass. you brought it to your lips and downed it in one go, the burn familiar by now, comforting in its own way. the alcohol was your crutch tonight, something to hold onto as you navigated this unfamiliar terrain of letting go, of not being yourself for just one night. you prayed silently, to whatever or whoever might be listening, that he would come over. that the universe, for once, would be kind. and as if in answer to your unspoken wish, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

you turned, heart racing, and there he was. the man from across the room, the one whose gaze had pulled you in and held you captive. his smile was easy, confident, the kind that could make anyone believe that the night might hold something special, something just for you. “mind if i buy you a drink?” he asked, his voice low and smooth, carrying easily over the noise. “or have you had enough already?”

you smiled, fighting the urge to laugh at the absurdity of it all. fuck, not another drink or you might just convulse, you thought silently. but what you really said was, “you could keep me company, and i might make it worth your while.” he laughed, a sound that seemed to roll through you like the bass in the music, deep and warm. “i like that offer,” he said, as he took a seat next to you, his presence somehow making the world around you feel smaller, more intimate.

there was something about him, something that made you feel like the night was just beginning, like everything before this moment had been leading up to something. you looked at him, really looked at him, trying to decipher what it was that drew you to him, but all you could see were those eyes, that sharp jaw, the way he seemed to belong in a place like this, even if you didn’t. “what’s a guy like you doing alone in a place like this?” you asked, leaning in slightly, letting the alcohol loosen your tongue.

he shrugged, his expression casual, as if the answer didn’t matter much. “felt like it’d be nice for a change,” he replied, before his gaze slid back to you. “what about you?”

you sighed, the weight of the night settling on your shoulders. “i felt it’d be nice too,” you admitted, “but that feeling was dead wrong.” he laughed again, and the sound was a little sharper this time, a little more knowing. it made you pause, a sudden, unwelcome memory resurfacing—a project due tomorrow, something about socrates. you groaned inwardly, realizing how far you had strayed from your usual path, how this was so unlike you.

“a project,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him, the thought slipping out before you could stop it. he raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “what about?”

“socrates,” you said with a hint of frustration. “i decided to do one on him, but it completely slipped my mind.” he scoffed lightly, a smirk playing on his lips. “poor choice, aristotle is much more influential.”

“okay, and?” you countered, a spark of your usual self peeking through. “socrates is the more seminal one.” his amusement deepened, his eyes studying you with renewed interest. “i can’t believe a smart thing like you is in a place like this.”

you frowned, the words not sitting well with you. they reminded you of everything you were trying to forget tonight, everything you didn’t want to be for just a few hours. “i don’t want to be a smart thing,” you said softly, almost to yourself. “not tonight.”

something in his expression shifted, softened, as he looked at you. he placed a hand on your thigh, the touch warm and steady, grounding you in a way that nothing else had that night. “are you sure you feel that way?” he asked gently, his voice low, the words carrying a weight you weren’t sure you could handle. you didn’t feel that way, not really. but tonight wasn’t about what you usually felt, or who you usually were. It was about letting go, about being someone else, if only for a little while. so you forced yourself to nod, even though a small voice in the back of your mind screamed that this wasn’t you, that this wasn’t right.

he seemed to sense your hesitation, but he didn’t push. instead, he simply said, “let me help you.” you opened your mouth to ask what he meant, but before you could, he was gently tugging your wrist, gesturing for you to follow him. your vision, blurred by the alcohol and the dim lighting, focused enough for you to see where he was leading you—to the back, to the private rooms. a sense of unease settled in your stomach, but you pushed it aside, telling yourself that this was what you wanted, what you needed.

you followed him, your heart pounding louder with each step. the corridor to the private rooms was dimly lit, the music a dull thrum in the background. as you walked, he glanced back at you, that same smile playing on his lips, the one that had stopped you in your tracks just minutes earlier. “i never got your name, sweetheart,” he said, his voice teasing, yet somehow sincere.

you gave him your name, “(y/n) (l/n),” the sound of it foreign in your own ears, as if it belonged to someone else. “and yours?” you asked, trying to hold onto the last vestiges of caution.

he turned to you fully then, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of mischief and something else, something darker. “namjoon,” he said, the name rolling off his tongue with a confidence that matched everything else about him. “kim namjoon.” and as he said it, you felt the world shift slightly, as if that name carried more weight than you could understand. but you were too far gone to care, too far gone to do anything but follow him, to see where this night might lead, to forget about everything else—your project, your heartbreak, your old self—and lose yourself in the unknown, if only for a few hours.

the private room was dimly lit, the shadows playing across the walls as you and namjoon stepped inside. the door clicked shut behind you, a sound that seemed to echo in the small space, followed by the unmistakable turn of a lock. it felt final, as if you were sealing yourself off from the rest of the world, from everything you knew, leaving only this moment, this man, and the uncertain promise of the night ahead.

you couldn’t help but watch him as he moved, your eyes tracing the strong lines of his body. the way his broad shoulders filled the space, how his black shirt clung to the muscles beneath, made your heart race. his hands, veiny and strong, were relaxed by his sides, but you couldn’t stop imagining them wrapped around you, feeling their strength and gentleness at once. and his eyes—god, his eyes—were the most mesmerizing of all. they were dark, intense, and held a dangerous kind of allure, like something that could either save you or ruin you, depending on how close you got.

a flicker of doubt wormed its way into your mind. you worried you might not be enough, not for someone like him. he was so composed, so sure of himself, and you—well, you were there trying to forget who you were, trying to become someone else for just a night. what if that wasn’t enough? what if you weren’t enough? namjoon must have sensed your unease because his gaze softened, the same easy smile spreading across his lips as he approached you. his steps were unhurried, confident, and with each one, the air between you seemed to thicken, heavy with anticipation.

when he reached you, he didn’t say anything at first. he simply cupped your cheek in his hand, his touch warm, and surprisingly gentle. his thumb stroked your skin, the soft caress sending a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, all you could do was stare up at him, lost in the darkness of his eyes. “you’re not afraid, sweetheart, are you?” he asked, his voice a low purr that sent another shiver through you. it was a voice that could coax secrets from you, a voice that promised things you weren’t sure you were ready for but found yourself wanting anyway.

was it fear that you were feeling? the heat coursing through your veins, the quickened beat of your heart, the way your skin seemed to burn where he touched you—was that fear? you didn’t know, and the uncertainty of it all made you nervous. but you shook your head, trying to convince yourself as much as him that you weren’t afraid.

he didn’t seem entirely convinced. he let out a soft, almost playful, tsk, his thumb still brushing against your cheek. “you should use your words, yeah?” he coaxed, his tone teasing, but there was an edge of seriousness beneath it, something that told you he wanted you to be sure, that he wanted you to choose this, to choose him. “i promise i’m not,” you managed to say, your voice softer than you intended, but steady enough. it felt like a small victory, a way to prove to yourself that you could do this, that you could be this version of yourself, if only for a night.

it seemed to be enough for him. namjoon’s smile widened, and the warmth in his eyes deepened, drawing you in even further. he leaned in slowly, giving you time to pull away, to change your mind, but you didn’t. you couldn’t. you were caught, helpless under the spell he was weaving with every look, every touch. when his lips finally met yours, it was like the world stopped. the kiss was slow, deliberate, as if he was savoring the moment, tasting it, tasting you. his lips were soft but insistent, moving against yours with a controlled kind of passion that left you breathless. he wasn’t rushing, wasn’t pushing for more, just kissing you like he had all the time in the world and was determined to spend it unraveling you, piece by piece.

you responded tentatively at first, unsure of how to match the intensity of his kiss. but he guided you, his free hand sliding around your waist, pulling you closer until your bodies were flush against each other. the heat between you flared, igniting something deep within you, something that made you press back against him, your lips parting slightly as you began to lose yourself in the feel of him. namjoon took the invitation, deepening the kiss as his tongue brushed against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through you. it wasn’t just a kiss—it was a claiming, a way of marking this moment as something significant, something more than just a fleeting encounter in a club. you could feel the way he held you, firm yet gentle, as if he was trying to tell you something without words, trying to show you how he could make you forget everything, even if just for tonight.

your hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping them as if they were the only thing keeping you grounded. his body was solid, reassuring, and the way he held you made you feel small, but in a good way, like you were being enveloped by something safe, something you could trust, even if only for these few stolen hours. he pulled back slightly, just enough to break the kiss, and rested his forehead against yours. his breath was warm against your lips, mingling with your own, and for a moment, the two of you just stood there, breathing together, the air thick with the tension and the promise of what was to come.

“you sure about this?” he asked again, his voice a whisper in the small space between you. his eyes searched yours, looking for any hint of doubt, any sign that you weren’t ready. but you were ready. or at least, you wanted to be. you nodded, your hand coming up to rest on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. it was calming in a way, a reminder that despite everything, despite the chaos in your own heart, there was something steady, something real, right in front of you. and so, with the taste of him still lingering on your lips, you whispered back, “i’m sure.”

his smile grew, and his hand slid down to the hem of your dress. with one swift tug, he pulled it over your head, revealing your bare skin to the cool air of the room. you felt exposed, vulnerable, but his gaze was like a warm blanket, wrapping around you, making you feel seen and desired. his eyes raked over you, pausing at your tits, your stomach, your hips, and you felt your cheeks flush with heat. he stepped back just enough to take you in, his gaze lingering on your lacy black bra, the one you’d picked out specifically for tonight, hoping it would be enough to catch his eye.

his hands went to his own shirt, and he began to unbutton it, one button at a time, his eyes never leaving yours. the anticipation was almost unbearable, the slow reveal of his chest, his abs, the v of his hips disappearing into his pants. when he was finally bare-chested, you couldn’t help but stare. he was beautiful, sculpted in a way that made your mouth water, and you felt a sudden urge to reach out, to trace every line and curve with your fingertips.

before you could act on the impulse, namjoon stepped closer again, his hand sliding up your back to unclasp your bra. it fell away, and your tits spilled into his waiting hands. his thumbs brushed over your nipples, and you gasped at the sensation, the pleasure shooting straight to your core. his eyes never left yours as he played with you, teasing you, watching as your breath grew shallower, as your eyes glazed over with lust. “you like that, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice a dark promise. and you nodded, unable to form coherent words as he continued to toy with your sensitive flesh, rolling your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, tugging gently until you were squirming against him.

his other hand slid down to your ass, squeezing it firmly, and he stepped closer, pressing his growing erection against your stomach. it was a clear message, one that sent a bolt of excitement through you, making you even wetter than you already were. without breaking eye contact, he leaned down to whisper in your ear, his breath hot against your skin, “you’re so fucking pretty. can’t wait to ruin you.” the words sent a shiver down your spine, and you nodded, your voice a breathless agreement.

his hand moved from your ass to the hem of your panties, and with a quick pull, they were pooled around your ankles, leaving you in absolutely nothing. he knelt down, kissing a trail from your belly button to one your hips, and you could feel the dampness seeping onto his fingers. his fingers slid down your legs, relishing in the fact that you were completely bare before him. his eyes took in the sight of you, and you could see the hunger in them, the desire that mirrored your own.

his hand slid up your thigh, his thumb brushing against your clit, making you jump. he chuckled, a low, dark sound that sent shivers through your body. “you’re sensitive, aren’t you?” he asked, his voice a purr that made you want to melt into him. “yes,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. “good, i like that in a woman.”

his hand slid away, and you felt a pang of loss, but it was quickly replaced by the pressure of his mouth on your pussy, his tongue sliding through your folds, tasting you. your legs trembled, and you had to hold onto his shoulders to keep from collapsing. his tongue was skilled, teasing and probing, making you gasp and moan with every stroke. you’d never felt anything like this before, never been this exposed, this wanton. and as he worked you over, you realized you didn’t care. all you cared about was the feel of his mouth on you, the way he was making you feel.

his tongue circled your clit, and you felt your orgasm building, a pressure that grew and grew until you couldn’t hold it back any longer. you cried out, your body shaking as you came, the sensation overwhelming you. namjoon didn’t stop, didn’t ease up, just kept licking and sucking until you were a trembling mess, your legs barely able to hold you up.

he stood, a smug smile on his face, and you couldn’t help but stare at his erection, straining against his pants. he noticed your gaze and chuckled, reaching down to free himself. “you want it?” he asked, stroking himself, and you nodded, your mouth dry with need. he led you to the bed, pushing you down gently. “spread your legs for me,” he said, his voice a command that sent a thrill through you. you did as he asked, your heart racing as he climbed on top of you. he positioned himself at your entrance, and without any preamble, pushed inside you. you gasped, the sensation of his size filling you up, stretching you in the most delicious way.

his thrusts were deep and deliberate, hitting that perfect spot inside you that made you see stars. you wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him deeper, your nails digging into his back. he groaned, the sound sending waves of pleasure through you. “you’re so tight, so wet,” he murmured, his breath hot in your ear. “feel so good around me, baby.”

his hand found your ass, and he began to spank you lightly, the sting melding with the pleasure, pushing you closer to the edge again. you moaned, your hips moving in sync with his, your body begging for more. “yes, like that,” you panted, and he complied, his hand coming down harder, the smack echoing in the room.

his movements grew more urgent, his breath coming in harsh pants against your neck. “you’re gonna cum for me again, aren’t you?” he growled, his teeth grazing your skin. “yes, yes, please, namjoon,” you whimpered, unable to hold back the words that spilled from your lips.

his hand moved to your clit, his thumb pressing down as he thrust into you. the pressure was too much, and you shattered, your body clenching around him as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. he followed closely behind, his own orgasm ripping through him, his body taut with the effort to hold off until you reached yours.

as you both came down from the high, he collapsed on top of you, his weight feeling surprisingly comforting. you could feel his heart hammering against your chest, matching the beat of your own. he kissed your neck, his breathing still ragged, and whispered, “you’re mine for the night, remember that.” and as you lay there, his cock still inside you, you realized you didn’t want it any other way.

his kisses grew softer, more tender, as his hand slid up to cup your cheek. he pulled out slowly, making you whimper at the sudden emptiness, but before you could miss it too much, he rolled onto his back, pulling you with him so that you were straddling him. he was still hard, and the feeling of him between your thighs was enough to make you want more. “ride me, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

you didn’t need any more encouragement than that. you positioned yourself over him, your hands on his chest for balance as you began to slide up and down, his cock filling you with every movement. the sensation was different like this, the angle hitting you in new, delicious ways. you moaned, throwing your head back as you found a rhythm that made your toes curl. namjoon’s hands roamed your body, caressing your tits, your waist, your hips, guiding you, pushing you to go faster, to take him deeper.

his eyes never left yours, watching you with a hunger that made you feel powerful, like you could do anything. and as you moved above him, grinding down on his length, you realized that maybe you could. you felt alive in a way you hadn’t in a long time, free from the constraints of who you were outside of this room.

his thumb found your clit again, and he began to rub it in slow, deliberate circles. your eyes rolled back in your head, and you leaned down to kiss him, your movements growing erratic as you approached the edge once more. he swallowed your moans, his own hips bucking up to meet yours, pushing you closer and closer. you felt it building, the tension coiling in your belly, tightening around his cock. your muscles clenched, and you gripped his shoulders, your nails digging in as you came, your body shaking with the force of it. namjoon’s grip on your hips tightened, his own orgasm following quickly after, his cock pulsing inside you.

you collapsed against him, your breaths mingling, your bodies slick with sweat. his arms wrapped around you, holding you close, and for a moment, you just enjoyed the feeling of him, the way he filled you up in more ways than one. as you caught your breath, you couldn’t help but wonder what the rest of the night would bring. would it be more of this? or would it end with the club, a memory that you’d cherish forever? either way, you knew you’d never forget the way he’d made you feel—like you were the only thing that mattered, like you were the most important person in the world. and as you felt his heart beating in time with yours, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t need to be anyone else but yourself to be enough.

the pale light of dawn was beginning to filter through the cracks in the curtains when you stirred, the dim glow pulling you out of a deep, dreamless sleep. it took you a moment to remember where you were. the unfamiliar surroundings, the dimly lit room, and the soft, warm body lying next to you—everything came rushing back in a disorienting wave. the events of the night before flashed in your mind, and with them, the realization of what time it must be.

your heart began to race as the panic set in. morning classes. you had morning classes, and you weren’t in your bed, you weren’t even in your apartment—you were still here, in a private room that now felt too intimate, too close. you sat up carefully, trying not to disturb namjoon, who was still sleeping peacefully beside you. the sheets were tangled around you both, his hand resting on your thigh, his chest rising and falling with each slow, steady breath.

your gaze dropped to him, taking in the sight of his relaxed features, his slightly tousled hair, the way the early morning light played across his face. he looked almost boyish in his sleep, the sharpness in his eyes softened, his usually confident demeanor replaced by something more vulnerable. it was a sight that made your heart warm, despite the chaos swirling in your mind. for a moment, you hesitated. there was a strange comfort in being there with him, in the warmth of his presence and the softness of the bed beneath you. part of you wanted to stay, to curl back up against him, to let the world outside wait a little longer. but reality was a harsh companion, and the ticking clock in your mind reminded you that you had responsibilities, a life that didn’t include waking up in a stranger’s bed after a night of reckless abandon.

you gently lifted his hand off your thigh, sliding out of bed as quietly as you could. your feet touched the cool floor, sending a shiver up your spine as you quickly scanned the room for your clothes. they were scattered across the floor—your dress draped over a chair, your shoes lying haphazardly near the door, your bag tucked under the bed. as you gathered your things, you couldn’t help but steal a glance back at namjoon. he was still asleep, his breathing deep and even, one arm stretched out across the bed where you had just been. you paused, taking in the way he looked so at peace, a contrast to the whirlwind of emotions you were feeling.

you dressed quickly, your movements hurried but careful not to make too much noise. the dress, once sleek and form-fitting, now felt slightly wrinkled and askew as you slipped it back on. your fingers fumbled with the zipper, your mind too distracted by the thought of the morning ahead and the fact that you were nowhere near ready for it. just as you reached for your bag, you heard a rustling behind you. you froze, praying he wouldn’t wake up, but when you turned around, there he was—propped up on one elbow, his eyes half-open, still heavy with sleep, but focused on you.

“where are you going?” he asked, his voice rough and low, still laced with the remnants of sleep. the sound of it sent a small thrill through you, even as you tried to calm your racing heart. “i have morning classes,” you replied, your voice quiet, almost apologetic. you weren’t sure why you felt the need to apologize, but something about the situation—the intimacy of the moment, the fact that you were leaving so abruptly—made you feel like you owed him an explanation.

namjoon blinked, his gaze sharpening slightly as he processed your words. he sat up fully, the sheets pooling around his waist as he ran a hand through his hair, making it even messier. “you won’t even let me treat you to breakfast?” he asked, a small, playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. you couldn’t help but smile back, though it was tinged with regret. “maybe another time,” you said, already moving toward the door. “but i really can’t be late for my classes.”

he watched you for a moment, his expression unreadable, before he nodded. “i’ll see you around, then,” he said, his tone easy, but there was a note of something else in it, something that made your chest tighten slightly. you paused at the door, your hand on the handle, and turned back to him. “i had a good time,” you said, the words coming out softer than you intended, but they were true. despite everything, despite the way the morning had come too soon, you didn’t regret the night before.

he smiled again, that warm, disarming smile that had drawn you in from the start. “so did i.” with that, you slipped out of the room, the door closing softly behind you. the corridor outside was empty, the muffled thump of music from the club below barely audible through the thick walls. you hurried down the hallway, your mind racing with a million thoughts—what you were going to say if anyone saw you, how you were going to explain the state you were in, and most importantly, how you were going to make it to class on time.

the drive back to your apartment was a blur, your hands gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly as you sped through the early morning streets. the city was still waking up, the sun just beginning to rise, casting a pale, golden light over everything. you barely noticed, too focused on the task at hand—getting home, getting dressed, and somehow making it to class without looking like you had just rolled out of someone else’s bed. when you finally pulled up to your apartment, you nearly tripped over your own feet in your haste to get inside. the keys fumbled in your hand, slipping once, twice, before you managed to unlock the door and rush inside. your apartment was quiet, the kind of stillness that comes with the early morning hours, and for a brief moment, you let yourself pause, leaning against the door as you caught your breath.

there was no time to waste. you darted into your bedroom, shedding your dress and tossing it onto the bed as you rifled through your closet for your uniform. the blouse was slightly wrinkled, the skirt a little too short for your liking, but there was no time to worry about that now. you yanked the blouse on, your fingers clumsy as they buttoned it up, tucking it into the skirt with a haste that left it slightly uneven, but you didn’t care. you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror as you hurried to the bathroom, and winced. your makeup was a mess, the once-perfect red lipstick now faded to a nude smudge, your eyeliner smeared, leaving dark circles beneath your eyes that made you look more like a raccoon than the confident, put-together student you were supposed to be.

there was no time for a full fix, but you did what you could—wiping away the worst of the smudges with a makeup wipe, reapplying a thin layer of a lighter lpstick, and hoping that no one would look too closely. your hair was another matter entirely, tangled and wild from the night before, but a quick brush through had to suffice. with one last look in the mirror—satisfied that you were at least presentable—you grabbed your bag and bolted out the door, your heart pounding in your chest as you rushed to make it to class on time. you didn’t allow yourself to think about namjoon, about the way he had looked at you as you left, or the way his voice had lingered in your mind, soft and warm. there would be time for that later—maybe.

you made it to class just before the bell rang, your breath still a little uneven from the mad dash across campus. the relief that washed over you was short-lived, though, as you barely had time to compose yourself before you felt eyes on you. you caught soobin’s glance from the corner of your eye—he was the kind of friend who could read you like a book, even on your best days, and today was far from your best.

feigning being startled at your sudden appearance, soobin exaggeratedly flinched, his eyes widening in mock surprise before breaking into a smile. “well, well,” he drawled, his tone teasing, “i didn’t think you were gonna make it. i was about to call search and rescue.” you scowled at him, trying to ignore the way his smirk widened. but before you could retort, he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “so, how much is a night?”

his words were laced with humor, but they hit too close to home. you glared at him, a retort already on your lips. “you couldn’t afford it,” you shot back, your tone sharp, but there was no real heat behind it. the truth was too raw, too close to the surface, and you weren’t in the mood to joke about it. as you settled into your seat between soobin and heewon, you could feel the tension beginning to ease—only slightly, though. the classroom was slowly filling up, students chatting idly as they waited for class to begin, but you couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach.

heewon, who had been flipping through her notes, glanced up at you and immediately burst into laughter at the sight of your disheveled appearance. “god, you pull off the messy whore look really well,” she teased, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “almost like hyuna.” you rolled your eyes, not in the mood for jokes. “not today, hee,” you muttered, reaching into your bag to pull out a small mirror. you avoided looking at her directly as you adjusted your hair, trying to tame the unruly strands that refused to cooperate.

your reflection was unkind, showing the toll the morning’s rush had taken on you—your blouse was still slightly untucked, your skirt wrinkled from where you’d hastily shoved it on, and your lipstick was more of a faint suggestion than an actual color. heewon didn’t miss a beat, though. “if i didn’t know you,” she continued, her voice light and teasing, “i’d say you actually had that one-night stand you were talking about.”

the words hung in the air, and you froze, your hand stilling mid-motion as you applied another layer of nude lipstick. your blood ran cold as you slowly turned to look at her, your expression a mask of forced nonchalance. but she wasn’t fooled—her eyes widened in realization, shock flooding her features as she stared at you. “no way,” she breathed, a little too loud for comfort. her eyes darted around the room, but most of the other students were too engrossed in their own conversations to notice. she leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “with who?”

you slapped her arm lightly, more out of habit than actual reprimand, and opened your mouth to answer. but before you could get a word out, the door to the classroom creaked open. the sudden silence that fell over the room was deafening, everyone’s attention snapping to the front as the principal stepped inside. he was a tall, stern-looking man with graying hair and sharp eyes, the kind of person who commanded respect without having to say much. he cleared his throat, and the last of the murmurs died away as he addressed the class.

“i’m sure most of you are aware by now that mister im has decided to leave us,” the principal began, his voice measured and calm. “but i wanted to personally introduce you all to your new english and philosophy professor.” there was a pause as he turned to the door, gesturing for the man outside to step in. the classroom was so quiet that you could hear the faint rustle of papers, the shifting of feet—everyone waiting with bated breath for the new teacher to make his entrance. and then he stepped in.

the world seemed to slow down as your eyes locked onto the man walking through the door. everything else fell away—the murmurs of the students, the sound of the clock ticking on the wall, even the very breath in your lungs—all of it disappeared as your gaze fixed on him. it was him. the man you had spent the night with, the one whose name you had whispered in the dim light of the private room just hours before. and now, here he was, standing in front of you as your new professor.

namjoon—no, professor kim namjoon—mister kim? whatever he was going to be called from that point on, froze in his tracks, his eyes scanning the room before they landed on you. for a moment, he looked just as shocked as you felt, his gaze narrowing slightly as if trying to make sure his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. but there was no mistaking it—you were as real as they came, sitting there with wide eyes and a racing heart, just as he was standing there, trying to process the impossibility of the situation.

the principal, oblivious to the tension crackling in the air, turned to namjoon, his voice breaking the silence. “is everything okay?” namjoon blinked, snapping out of whatever thoughts had been running through his mind. he cleared his throat, his expression smoothing into something more composed, though you could see the faint tension in his jaw. “yes, everything’s fine,” he replied, his voice steady, but you could hear the slight edge to it, the barely perceptible waver that only someone who knew him—or had spent the night with him—might notice.

he turned back to the class, his gaze sweeping over the rows of students, but his eyes remained firmly on you as he introduced himself. “i’m professor kim namjoon,” he said, his voice carrying through the room with a quiet authority. “i’ll be your new english and philosophy instructor.” you were stunned into silence, your mind reeling as you tried to process what was happening. the man who had been a nameless stranger just hours before was now your professor, standing there in front of the entire class, his attention seemingly focused on you alone.

there was a brief moment where you thought you might faint, the weight of the situation pressing down on you like a lead blanket. but then namjoon’s gaze softened, just slightly, and you saw something there—recognition, yes, but also something else. a flicker of concern, perhaps, or maybe just a shared understanding of the gravity of the situation. and then, just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by the calm, composed demeanor of a professor addressing his class. he began speaking again, introducing the syllabus and his expectations for the course, but you barely heard a word of it. all you could focus on was the fact that your night of recklessness had followed you here, into the one place you had thought was safe, and there was no escaping it now.

as he continued to speak, you forced yourself to sit up straighter, to adopt the same mask of composure he had. but inside, you were anything but calm. your mind was racing, your thoughts tangled in a web of confusion and disbelief. heewon nudged you, her eyes wide as she glanced between you and namjoon, clearly sensing something was off but not daring to ask. soobin, for once, was silent, his usual teasing smirk replaced by a look of genuine concern.

but none of it mattered. not really. because as namjoon’s gaze flickered back to you, just for a moment, you knew that it was far from over. the connection you had felt the night before was still there, humming beneath the surface, and there was no telling where it might lead—or what it might cost you. the bell rang, signaling the start of class, but for you, it felt like the beginning of something else entirely.

namjoon had composed himself almost too well for someone who had just discovered an unexpected connection in his classroom. his voice was steady, professional, as he launched into the introduction of the day's topic—a deep dive into existential philosophy, a subject that would set the tone for the entire semester. his words flowed with an easy confidence, drawing the attention of the entire class, but your mind was a whirlwind, struggling to keep up with the reality of the situation. as he spoke, you found yourself stealing glances at him, trying to reconcile the man who stood before you now with the one you had been so intimately close to just hours ago. every time his eyes drifted toward you, your gaze would dart away, your heart beating too fast, too loud.

just as you were beginning to gather your thoughts, namjoon posed a question to the class, inviting anyone to share what they knew about existentialism. before you could react, heewon’s hand shot up beside you. “oh, (y/n) knows all about that,” she announced, her voice light with an undercurrent of mischief. she shot you a sideways glance, one eyebrow raised as if daring you to deny it.

you turned to face her, your eyes pleading, practically begging her to drop it. but she was never one to back down from a moment like this, especially when she sensed there was more to the story. your warning gaze seemed to only fuel her amusement. namjoon’s eyes flicked from heewon to you, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “is that so?” he asked, his tone carrying a playful edge that only you seemed to notice. “i figured you’d know it. you probably know most of the plan and program.”

his words hung in the air, the double meaning not lost on you. there was an almost imperceptible pause before he continued, his gaze locked onto yours. “why don’t you tell us what you know?” you swallowed hard, your mind racing to find an answer, any answer. but all you could think about was the night before—the way his voice had sounded in your ear, the warmth of his skin against yours. the memories clouded your thoughts, making it impossible to focus on the question he’d asked.

you opened your mouth, but no words came out. the silence stretched on, heavy and awkward, until soobin nudged you gently from the other side. his elbow digging into your ribs jolted you back to reality, and you forced yourself to speak. “sartre believed that existence precedes essence,” you began, your voice quieter than usual, barely above a whisper. “it means that we're born without purpose, and it’s our responsibility to give our lives meaning through our actions.”

namjoon’s smile widened, a look of approval crossing his face. “outstanding,” he said, his tone genuine, almost too warm. he paused for a moment, his gaze softening as he asked, “what’s your name?” the question caught you off guard, and for a moment, you were silent again, unable to form a response. it was as if the world had narrowed down to just the two of you, the classroom and the other students fading into the background. your mouth opened, but no sound came out, the weight of his gaze rendering you speechless.

another nudge from soobin brought you back to the present. you blinked, realizing that you had to respond. “it’s (y/n) (l/n),” you finally managed, your voice barely above a whisper. namjoon nodded, a hint of something unreadable in his expression as he repeated your name, letting it linger in the air. “(y/n),” he said softly, almost like he was testing how it felt on his tongue. “thank you for sharing.”

you could feel heewon’s eyes on you, a mixture of curiosity and realization dawning on her face. she wasn’t a fool—she had seen the way you had reacted, the way namjoon had looked at you, and it didn’t take long for her to start putting the pieces together. but you couldn’t bring yourself to care about what she thought, not when all you could focus on was him. he continued with the lecture, but you hardly heard a word of it. every time he turned back to the class, your gaze would drop to your desk, your heart thudding in your chest. the tension in the room was palpable, and you could tell that soobin and heewon were both aware of it, even if they didn’t fully understand why.

after what felt like an eternity, namjoon began handing out sheets of paper, instructing the class to spend the next fifteen minutes writing an essay on the topic he had introduced. you barely registered the words, your mind still caught up in the swirl of emotions from earlier. when he reached your desk, he paused, his movements slower, more deliberate. as he set the paper down in front of you, his hand brushed against your fingers, the contact brief but electric. you looked up at him, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. his eyes locked onto yours, and you saw something in them—a flicker of desire, maybe, or perhaps just a shared acknowledgment of the impossible situation you both found yourselves in.

he took his bottom lip between his teeth, a small, almost imperceptible gesture that sent a shiver down your spine. the air between you crackled with tension, so thick that you could almost taste it. namjoon didn’t miss the look in your eyes, nor did he miss the way your thighs clenched together involuntarily at the sight of him. his gaze dropped for just a second before he looked back at you, his expression unreadable but intense.

heewon and soobin exchanged a worried look, sensing that something was off but unsure of what to make of it. but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. all that mattered was the man standing in front of you, the man who had somehow become both a stranger and something more in the span of just one night. namjoon lingered for a moment longer before moving on to the next student, but the heat of his touch stayed with you, lingering on your skin long after he had stepped away. you stared down at the blank sheet of paper in front of you, your mind a chaotic mess of thoughts and emotions, wondering how you were supposed to focus on anything else when the only thing you could think about was him.

you stared at the blank sheet of paper for what felt like forever, your thoughts swirling in a chaotic mess. the memory of Namjoon’s touch lingered on your skin, his presence looming over you despite him moving on to the next student. every word you tried to write felt forced, disjointed, as if your mind was too occupied with the events of the night before to form a coherent sentence. but you pushed through, forcing yourself to focus, to string together an essay that would meet namjoon’s expectations—or at least not embarrass yourself in front of him. you could feel his eyes on you occasionally as he walked around the room, checking on the other students, and every time, it made your heart race and your fingers tremble.

finally, you managed to write something—an essay that was far from your best work, but at least it was done. the bell rang, its sharp sound jolting you out of your thoughts. you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, relief washing over you as namjoon dismissed the class with a curt nod. the scraping of chairs and the shuffling of feet filled the room as everyone stood up and turned in their papers. you gathered your things slowly, hoping to blend in with the crowd, to escape without another encounter with him. as you moved toward the front to turn in your essay, soobin and heewon caught your attention.

“we’ll wait outside for you,” soobin said, a smirk playing on his lips as if he knew something you didn’t. your eyes pleaded with him, silently begging him not to leave you alone in this classroom. but it was too late; they were already heading out the door, leaving you and namjoon as the last ones in the room. you could feel the weight of his gaze on you, but you kept your eyes down, refusing to meet it. you set your paper on his desk, trying to make a quick exit.

but just as you reached the door, his voice stopped you. “i didn’t know you went to college here.” you froze, every muscle in your body tensing at his words. you slowly turned around, forcing yourself to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. “i didn’t know you worked here,” you replied, your voice barely steady.

the silence that followed was thick with tension, the air heavy with everything that was left unsaid. you could see the conflict in his eyes, the same uncertainty that mirrored your own. for a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of the situation pressing down on you both. then he cleared his throat, the sound cutting through the silence like a knife. his gaze hardened, the warmth from earlier replaced with something colder, more distant. “please only refer to me as your professor from now on,” he said, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument.

the words hit you like a punch to the gut, the finality of them sinking in. it felt like your heart was physically breaking, the pain sharp and immediate. you opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out, the lump in your throat making it impossible to speak. he paused, his eyes flickering with something unreadable before he continued. “pretend like anything we had didn’t happen, for our sake.”

you nodded, the motion stiff and mechanical, even as the nausea churned in your stomach. it felt like the ground was slipping out from under you, like you were free-falling and there was nothing to catch you. but you forced a small, tight-lipped smile, doing your best to hide the turmoil inside. “see you next period, professor kim,” you managed to say, your voice trembling slightly. without waiting for a response, you turned and walked out of the room, your legs feeling like they were made of lead. every step felt heavier than the last, the weight of his words pressing down on you. as you pushed open the door and stepped into the hallway, the noise and bustle of the other students barely registered.

all you could think about was the way he had looked at you, the coldness in his eyes, and the realization that whatever connection you had felt the night before was now nothing but a distant memory. you could still feel the ghost of his touch on your skin, the memory of his voice in your ear, but it all felt so far away now, like a dream that had ended too soon. heewon and soobin were waiting for you just outside the classroom, their expressions shifting from playful to concerned the moment they saw you. heewon opened her mouth to say something, but you shook your head, silently begging her not to ask. you couldn’t talk about it, not now—not when everything felt so raw, so real.

the day felt like a blur as you made your way through the bustling hallways, trying to shake off the weight of the morning’s events. you met up with soobin and heewon during your free period, desperate for some semblance of normalcy. the café in the student center was a welcome escape, its warm lighting and soft chatter offering a brief respite from the chaos in your mind. you slid into a booth with them, the leather seats creaking under the weight of your exhaustion. you barely registered the vibrant colors and bustling activity around you, too preoccupied with the events of the morning.

“so,” soobin said, leaning in with an inquisitive look. “what the hell happened between you and professor kim?” you took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. with a heavy sigh, you began recounting the events of the previous night—everything from the club, the fleeting connection with namjoon, to the morning’s abrupt encounter in class. your friends listened in stunned silence, their eyes widening with each detail.

when you finished, soobin’s jaw dropped, his eyes darting between you and heewon. “i didn’t expect that,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. heewon, on the other hand, was practically vibrating with excitement. “you’re kidding me,” she said, her eyes shining with admiration. “he’s like, the hottest professor ever. you did good, really good.”

you managed a weak smile at her enthusiasm, feeling a twinge of warmth despite the tumult inside. as you looked around, your gaze fell upon namjoon again, this time surrounded by a swarm of female students. they clustered around him, offering water and engaging in casual conversation. his earlier gaze had been replaced by a smile that was charming but distant, his attention firmly on his admirers. “guess you aren’t his only fan,” soobin remarked dryly, his tone carrying a hint of amusement.

you turned back to your friends, trying to mask the tightness in your chest. “i don’t care,” you said, your voice carrying a trace of frustration. “i’m not allowed to care.” heewon placed a reassuring hand on your arm, her eyes softening with sympathy. “look on the bright side,” she said gently. “you got over your ex, if anything. and maybe, in some weird way, this is a chance to start fresh.”

her words were meant to be comforting, but they only served to remind you of the painful truth. the breakup with your ex had left you vulnerable and searching for validation, and namjoon’s presence had complicated everything in ways you hadn’t anticipated. but you nodded, appreciating her attempt to offer perspective. you managed a grateful smile, the gesture feeling heavy but sincere. as you sipped your coffee, the bitter taste seemed to mirror the complexity of your emotions. the conversation drifted, and you tried to focus on the mundane topics your friends brought up, but your thoughts kept returning to namjoon.

the next day unfolded with a disorienting sense of déjà vu, as if you were trapped in a cycle you couldn’t escape. the english period began with a heaviness in your chest, a reminder of the previous day’s awkward encounter with namjoon. his presence was now a constant, uncomfortable weight, and you braced yourself for another session of tense interactions. he entered the classroom, his authoritative stride commanding immediate attention. he took his place at the front, his gaze scanning the room with a sharpness that made your skin prickle. the air seemed charged with unspoken tension as he began his lesson, his voice smooth but carrying an edge.

throughout the class, it became increasingly clear that namjoon was deliberately targeting you. his questions were relentless, designed to probe and unsettle. his piercing eyes would lock onto you as he asked complex questions about the texts you’d studied. “so,” he said, his tone casual but with an undercurrent of challenge, “can you tell me how socrates’ concept of virtue contrasts with plato’s theory of forms?” you stumbled over your answer, your mind racing to piece together a coherent response. “um, socrates—he believed that virtue was a form of knowledge, right? and plato, well, he thought virtue was tied to the ideal forms?”

namjoon clicked his tongue disapprovingly, the sound echoing through the classroom. “not quite. socrates did indeed view virtue as a form of knowledge, but plato’s theory of forms goes beyond that, focusing on the ideal forms as the true reality of virtue.” the click of his tongue felt like a stinging reprimand, and you could feel your cheeks flush with embarrassment. from behind, soobin offered a comforting wink, his eyes twinkling with mischief. you smiled back, grateful for his support, even if you didn’t fully understand his intentions.

as namjoon moved through the rows, he handed back the essays with a stoic expression. when he reached your table, he paused, his eyes scanning your paper. “you can do better,” he said, despite the high mark you’d received. his voice was flat, dismissive, and it stung more than the failing grade could have.

soobin leaned over as his eyes raked over the positive mark on your paper, a smirk playing on his lips. he whispered, “congratulations,” before wrapping his arms around your neck in a gesture that surprised you. he pressed a light kiss to your cheek, the touch warm and reassuring. “well done,” he added, his voice low and almost conspiratorial. you leaned into his embrace, finding solace in the brief moment of affection. it was partly for show, a subtle defiance in the face of namjoon’s scrutiny, but it felt genuine enough to offer a small comfort. as he pulled away, you couldn’t help but notice namjoon’s eyes flicking toward you, his expression unreadable but his demeanor tense.

the moment was shattered when soobin dropped his pencil, its clatter startlingly loud in the quiet classroom. he turned to you with a mischievous glint in his eyes and said, “could you get that for me?” you nodded, bending over to retrieve the pencil. the motion was unavoidably revealing, your short skirt riding up just enough to provide a provocative view. you could feel namjoon’s gaze on you, intense and almost overwhelming. as you picked up the pencil, you glanced up to see soobin’s eyes fixed on you, his gaze deliberate and knowing.

you handed the pencil back to him, who responded with a smirk, “thank you, sweetheart.” namjoon’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening as he watched the interaction. his knuckles whitened around the stack of papers in his hand, the sheets crumpling under the pressure of his grip. the sight of soobin’s gaze on you seemed to inflame his irritation, and he struggled to maintain his composure. the tension broke when he suddenly snapped, “pop quiz.”

the sharpness of his command cut through the room, drawing startled gasps from the students. you looked back to see soobin’s smirk widening, a silent acknowledgment of the provocation. you couldn’t help but return his smirk, feeling a mix of amusement and defiance. as he began distributing the quiz papers, the atmosphere in the room shifted. the playful energy between you and soobin contrasted sharply with namjoon’s stern demeanor.

the bell's chime reverberated through the classroom, signaling the end of the period. as students shuffled to their feet, handing in their quizzes with murmurs of relief, you lingered behind, finalizing your answers and tapping the pencil against the paper. you were the last to submit your quiz once again, and as you made your way to the front, you glanced at the clock, calculating how much time you had before your next class.

with your quiz in hand, you approached namjoon's desk, determined to leave the room as quickly as possible. however, as you turned to head for the door, namjoon's voice stopped you in your tracks. “come here,” he commanded, his tone firm yet laden with an undercurrent of something else. your stomach tightened at the sound of his voice. “is everything okay, professor kim?” you asked, your voice steady despite the flutter of anxiety in your chest.

namjoon's posture stiffened, a subtle shift in his demeanor that you noticed immediately. he adjusted himself in his chair, spreading his legs slightly. as you met his gaze, your eyes flickered momentarily to the front of his pants. specifically, the painfully visible tent in his pants that had been rightfully covered by his desk. now, you were able to get a clear view of it and, fuck, was it obvious. the sight was unsettling, a realization that you forced yourself to ignore.

he leaned forward slightly, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your heart race. “did you enjoy the show you put on today?” he asked, his voice low and carrying an edge of challenge. you struggled to maintain composure. “i have no idea what you're talking about,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady and focused. your gaze danced around the room, avoiding the direction of his gaze.

his expression hardened slightly. without breaking eye contact, he reached for a stapler on his desk and tossed it lightly in front of you. “pick it up for me,” he instructed, his tone carrying a hushed command. you swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his command. his voice seemed to reverberate through you, causing an involuntary clenching in your thighs. you turned around and bent over to retrieve the stapler, your skirt rising above your hips with the motion. the fabric brushed against your legs as you reached for the stapler, the movement eliciting a sharp intake of breath from namjoon.

as you stood up and placed the stapler back on his desk, you tried to keep your gaze forward. namjoon’s eyes followed you, and you could sense the tension in the air thickening. “come here,” he murmured again, his voice softer but still carrying the same underlying authority. you hesitated, fighting the urge to defy him. but the knowledge that resistance was futile made you comply. you approached him, feeling his gaze on you as you moved closer. when you were within arm’s reach, he reached out and drew you gently into his lap, his grip firm yet careful.

you could feel it, the clothed tent in his pants pressing into the bare flesh of your thigh, it sent goosebumps all arouns your skin. his lips brushed against the side of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. “are you happy knowing that the boys are getting off to this ass of yours?” he asked, his voice a dark purr against your skin. you tried to muster a response, a smirk curling on your lips as you said, “yeah, the boys are real nice to me.” the words felt hollow, a weak attempt to mask your discomfort.

namjoon chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your neck. his hand pressed against you, and you could feel the firmness of his body beneath you. “you don’t need them,” he said, his voice dropping to a deeper, more possessive tone. “you need a man.” your breath caught in your throat, the situation spiraling beyond your control.

his hand slid up to cup your breast, squeezing it gently through your shirt. the fabric was thin, offering no real barrier to his touch. your nipples tightened, and you gasped. “is this what you want?” he murmured, his thumb brushing over the peak. “to be manhandled by some immature college boys?” his other hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling your face towards his. his lips captured yours in a bruising kiss, one that was as much about power as it was passion. your body responded instinctively, arching into him. his tongue pushed into your mouth, and you could taste the mint from his gum, a stark contrast to the earthy scent of his cologne.

his hand moved from your neck to the hem of your shirt, sliding it up to expose your bare skin. his teeth grazed your bottom lip before he pulled away, leaving you panting. “now, let’s see how wet you get when you’re being punished by your professor,” he said, his eyes gleaming with a dark amusement. before you could protest, his hand slid down to cup your sex through your panties, his fingers moving in slow circles. his touch was deliberate, almost cruel in its precision. the fabric of your panties was drenched, and you could feel the heat of your arousal spreading. “you’re so fucking dirty,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust. “gonna pay for teasing me like that.”

his hand withdrew, and before you could react, his palm connected with your ass in a sharp spank. the sting of pain shot through you, but instead of anger, you felt a pulse of desire. the room around you spun, and you bit your lip to stifle a moan. “is that what you wanted?” he asked, his voice mocking. “to be used like this?”

you didn’t answer, but your silence was answer enough. namjoon chuckled again, his hand moving to your other cheek. this time, the spank was harder, and the sound echoed through the empty classroom. you gasped, your legs trembling, but your pussy clenched around his fingers. “yes, professor,” you murmured, the words slipping out despite your attempt to remain defiant.

his hand slid into your panties, his fingers pushing inside you without preamble. you were so wet, so ready, and his touch sent waves of pleasure through your body. his thumb circled your clit, and you moaned, unable to hold back. “that’s it,” he whispered, his voice low and encouraging. “tell me how much you like it when i spank you, and maybe i’ll let you cum on my dick.”

his other hand moved to the zipper of his pants, freeing his thick, hard cock. it sprang out, and you couldn’t help but stare at it, the size of it both terrifying and exhilarating. “you want this, don’t you?” he asked, his voice a gruff challenge. “you wanna be fucked by your professor, right here, where everyone can see?”

you nodded, unable to speak, your body betraying your every thought. namjoon leaned back in his chair, pulling you onto his desk. the cold wood was a shock against your skin, but the heat of his body washed over you as he stepped closer. his pants fell to the floor, and he positioned himself between your legs. “beg for it,” he demanded, his eyes boring into yours. your voice was shaky as you whispered, “please, professor kim, fuck me.” the words were barely out of your mouth when he pushed into you, filling you completely. the sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pain and pleasure that made your vision swim. his hips began to move, a steady, punishing rhythm that had you gripping the edge of the desk for dear life.

each thrust was accompanied by a smack on your ass, the sting mixing with the ache in your pussy. “you’re mine,” he growled, his voice harsh with need. “no one else gets to see you like this, no one else gets to touch you like this.” his words were a blend of assertion and question, and you nodded, your eyes glazed with lust. your silence happened to be a grave mistake, and you realized it the minute he delivered another harsh slap to your ass.

“use your fucking words,” he snarled in your ear, hips pressed against your flesh. you could only whimper, his balls pressed against your soaking slit. but he didn't move, he was gonna make you work for it. “what happens to bad girls?” you gritted your teeth and forced out a whisper, “they get punished, professor kim.”

his hand squeezed your ass hard before delivering another spank, the sting turning into a warm buzz that spread through your body. he chuckled darkly, pleased with your response. “that’s right,” he said, his voice gruff and animalistic. “and what happens when bad girls get punished?” you took a deep breath, trying to keep the tremble from your voice. “they get fucked, professor kim.”

that was all the encouragement he needed. namjoon’s cock slammed into you, the sound of skin slapping against skin punctuating the silence of the classroom. he fucked you hard and fast, his hips pistoning against you with a ferocity that was both terrifying and exhilarating. your legs were shaking, and your knuckles were white from gripping the edge of the desk, but you didn’t care. you were lost in the feeling of him inside you, claiming you in a way that no one else ever had.

his hand moved from your ass to your neck, his fingers wrapping around it in a grip that was tight but not painful. he squeezed slightly, the pressure sending a jolt of arousal through you. his eyes bore into yours, and you could see the hunger in them, the need to dominate and control. “you’re mine, aren’t you?” he said, his voice a low growl.

you nodded, unable to form words. your breath was coming in ragged gasps, and your pussy was clenching around his cock, begging for release. another spank, another squeeze of your neck, and you felt yourself teetering on the edge of climax. “say it,” he demanded, his voice harsh. “say you’re mine, and i’ll let you cum.”

“i’m yours, professor kim,” you choked out, the words a desperate plea.

his grip tightened, and he slammed into you one last time, his cock hitting that perfect spot deep inside you. you screamed as you came, your body shaking with the intensity of your orgasm. namjoon’s eyes never left yours, his expression a mix of triumph and possessiveness. he waited, letting you ride out the waves of pleasure before he began to move again, his thrusts growing faster and more erratic. you could feel his release building, his cock swelling inside you. he was close, and the thought of him filling you up with his cum made your pussy clench even tighter. “fuck, you’re so tight,” he grunted, his voice strained. “i’m gonna fill you up, fuck. i’m gonna mark you as mine.”

you could feel your own orgasm building again, a second wave crashing into you as his words sent a fresh surge of arousal through your body. he leaned over, his teeth scraping along your neck as he reached down to pinch your clit. the combination of pain and pleasure was too much, and you came again, your body shaking violently. he grunted, his hips jerking as he released deep inside you. he held you there, his cock buried to the hilt, his grip on your neck unyielding. “you’re mine now,” he murmured, his voice a mix of satisfaction and possession. “no one else will ever make you feel like this again.”

you couldn’t argue with him, not when his cum was still pulsing inside you, not when his scent was all over your body. you were his, and as much as you hated to admit it, the thought thrilled you. his hand moved from your neck to your hair, his grip gentle as he pulled you closer, kissing you deeply. his tongue invaded your mouth, tasting the remnants of your orgasm, and you kissed him back with a passion that matched his own.

the room was spinning, and your heart was racing, but all you could think about was how much you wanted this to never end. how much you wanted to be claimed by him, over and over again. finally, he pulled away, his cock slipping out of you with a wet sound that seemed to echo through the room. he tucked himself back into his pants, his expression unreadable. “now, get out of here before someone sees you like this,” he said, his voice a harsh whisper.

you nodded, your legs unsteady as you slid off the desk. your panties were a ruined mess, so you left them where they lay. your skirt was hiked up around your waist, and your shirt was askew, but you didn’t bother to fix it. you could feel his cum dripping down your thighs, a sticky reminder of what had just happened. you stumbled out of the classroom, the door clicking shut behind you. the hallway was empty, the only sound the echo of your heels against the tiles. your mind was racing, trying to process the intensity of what had just occurred. you hadn’t meant for it to go that far, but the power dynamics had overtaken you both.

as you made your way to the bathroom, you couldn’t shake the feeling of his eyes on you, his hand on your neck, his cock inside you. your body was still singing with the aftershocks of pleasure, and the sting of his spanks lingered, a sweet reminder of his dominance. once inside the stall, you leaned against the cool metal, trying to catch your breath. your pussy was sore, but the ache was a delicious one, a reminder of his brutal possession. you cleaned up as best as you could, trying to erase the evidence of your transgression. when you stepped out, you took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself.

you checked the mirror, fixing your makeup and smoothing your hair. your eyes were wild, your cheeks flushed. you really looked like you’d just been fucked by your professor, and that thought alone sent a shiver of excitement down your spine. you left the bathroom, heading to your next class, your mind racing with thoughts of namjoon. what had just happened between you? was it a one-time thing, or was this the start of something darker, something more intense? you couldn’t stop thinking about him, his voice, his touch, his cock. the way he’d claimed you, the way you’d begged for it. it was wrong, so wrong, but you craved it.

the rest of the day was a blur, your thoughts consumed by the illicit encounter. when you saw him in the hallways, his eyes would briefly meet yours, a smoldering heat passing between you that no one else could see. the tension was palpable, a silent promise of more to come. by the time you reached the evening, you were on edge, desperate for a release that only he could provide. you knew you had to see him again, to find out where this was going, to let him take you apart and put you back together in whatever twisted way he saw fit.

the next day, namjoon was crueler than ever. the moment you walked into the classroom, you felt the shift in his demeanor, an icy coldness that sent a shiver down your spine. his eyes seemed to follow your every move, sharp and unforgiving, as if waiting for you to slip up.

“miss (l/n),” he drawled, barely five minutes into the lecture, “do you even know what the word ‘competence’ means? because, frankly, i’m starting to doubt it.” his words were laced with venom, each syllable landing like a physical blow. you felt your heart sink, the heat of embarrassment creeping up your neck as all eyes turned to you. your mouth opened to respond, but the words caught in your throat, your voice betraying you in the moment you needed it most.

“answer me,” he demanded, his tone brooking no argument. “i do,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper, but it was clear that your confidence had shattered.

he scoffed, a cold, mocking sound that made you flinch. “then perhaps you should start showing it. this is a university, not a daycare. i expect more from my students.” the classroom was silent, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. you could feel the stares of your classmates, could hear the unspoken judgment in the air, and it made your stomach churn. namjoon’s relentless criticism continued throughout the class, his every word designed to tear you down, to make you feel small and insignificant.

“is that really the best you can do?” he sneered at one point, after you had answered another one of his questions with trembling uncertainty. his eyes narrowed, and you could see the disdain written all over his face. “how disappointing.” your patience was wearing thin, the fragile hold you had on your emotions slipping with each cruel remark. you wanted to scream, to tell him to stop, to ask him why he was being so unbearably harsh. but you couldn’t. the words refused to come, lodged in your throat like a stone.

finally, after what felt like an eternity, the class drew to a close. as soon as namjoon dismissed everyone, you gathered your things and bolted from the room, your vision blurred with unshed tears. you could hear the murmur of voices behind you, the curious whispers of your classmates, but you didn’t care. all you wanted was to get away. you didn’t stop until you reached the empty locker room, the door slamming shut behind you with a deafening echo. the second you were alone, the tears you had been holding back spilled over, your body shaking with the force of your sobs.

“how could he be so bipolar?” you choked out between gasping breaths, your voice thick with hurt and confusion. it was as if he had two completely different personalities, one moment kind and almost gentle, the next vicious and unrelenting. it was too much. the sound of approaching footsteps cut through your thoughts, startling you. you quickly wiped at your eyes, trying in vain to compose yourself, but it was too late. the door creaked open, and soobin stepped inside, his expression filled with concern as he saw you huddled on the floor.

“(y/n)?” he called softly, his voice laced with worry. without waiting for an answer, he hurried over to you, crouching down by your side. “what happened? why are you crying?” you tried to speak, but all that came out was a broken sob. soobin’s face softened, and he reached out to pull you into his arms, his embrace warm and comforting.

“it’s okay,” he murmured, his hand gently rubbing your back in soothing circles. “it’s gonna be okay. just breathe.” for a moment, you let yourself melt into his embrace, the warmth of his arms and the softness of his voice soothing your frazzled nerves. but eventually, you pulled back enough to look up at him, your eyes red and puffy from crying.

“it’s namjoon, you saw it,” you finally managed to say, your voice trembling. “he’s just, he’s being so awful, and i don’t understand why.” soobin’s expression darkened at the mention of namjoon, his jaw clenching slightly, but he quickly masked it with a soft, reassuring smile. “he’s being an ass,” he agreed, his voice firm with conviction. “you don’t deserve that, you need to stop running to him.”

his words struck a chord deep within you, and you nodded, a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill over. “you’re right,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “but i don’t know how to stop.” his gaze softened, and he reached up to gently brush a strand of hair out of your face, his touch tender. “you’ll figure it out,” he said quietly, his tone full of quiet confidence. “and until you do, i’ll be here for you.”

a small, shaky smile tugged at the corners of your lips, the warmth of his words seeping into the cracks that namjoon’s cruelty had left behind. “thank you, soo,” you whispered, your voice thick with gratitude. for a moment, the two of you just sat there, lost in each other’s eyes. then, before you could fully process what was happening, he leaned in and pressed a soft, tentative kiss to your lips.

it was so quick, so unexpected, that you barely had time to react before he was pulling back, his eyes wide with panic. “i’m so sorry,” he stammered, his voice filled with regret. “i didn’t mean to—” but you didn’t let him finish. you reached up, cupping his face in your hands, and kissed him back. this time, it was slower, deeper, a silent reassurance that he hadn’t made a mistake. when you finally pulled away, you could see the relief in soobin’s eyes, and it made your heart swell with affection. “you didn’t make a mistake,” you whispered, your voice still shaky but filled with sincerity.

soobin searched your eyes for a moment, looking for confirmation, before his arms tightened around you. the kiss grew more urgent, his tongue slipping into your mouth, tasting of mint and something uniquely him. your hands roamed over his back, feeling the firm muscles beneath his shirt, and you moaned softly, the heat between you growing with every passing second. the locker room was suddenly too small, too confining, and you needed more.

without breaking the kiss, you reached down and began to unbutton his shirt, feeling the smooth fabric give way beneath your trembling fingers. his hands mirrored yours, his fingertips brushing against the bare skin of your stomach, sending shivers down your spine. as his shirt fell open, you gasped, taking in the sight of his broad chest, the tattoos that danced across his skin like secrets waiting to be uncovered. you ran your fingers over the ink, tracing the lines as you explored him, and he groaned, his hands finding their way to the hem of your shirt.

you pulled back just long enough to let him lift it over your head, tossing it aside without a second thought. your bra followed shortly after, his eyes darkening as he took in the sight of your exposed breasts. without a word, he leaned down and captured one in his mouth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak as you arched your back, a gasp escaping your lips. the pleasure was intense, a stark contrast to the pain namjoon’s words had brought you just moments ago. soobin’s touch was gentle, reverent, a stark reminder of the way you deserved to be treated.

his hands cupped your breasts, his thumbs flicking over your nipples as he sucked and bit at them, making you whimper. you could feel yourself growing wetter, the ache between your legs becoming almost unbearable. he must have noticed too, because his hand began to drift lower, slipping under your little skirt and finding your panties already drenched for him. you moaned into his mouth, your legs parting slightly to give him better access.

his fingers slid over the fabric, teasing you, making you squirm with need. then, with a wicked grin, he pulled them aside and plunged two fingers into you, making you gasp. his strokes were slow and deliberate, his eyes never leaving yours as he watched your reactions, learning what made you moan, what made your eyes roll back in pleasure. you clung to him, your nails digging into his back as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

his other hand reached up to cradle your face, his thumb wiping away the tears that had dried on your cheeks. “you’re so beautiful, (y/n),” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent waves of pleasure through your body. “so perfect, so responsive. i want to make you feel good, really good.” and with that, he kissed you again, his tongue delving deep as his fingers picked up the pace, filling you up and stroking that spot inside you that no one else seemed to know existed.

you could feel yourself getting closer, your breath hitching in your chest, your body tightening around his fingers. “soobin,” you moaned, his name a desperate plea on your lips. “yes, baby, come for me,” he whispered, his voice full of desire, and with that, you shattered. your orgasm hit you like a wave, leaving you trembling and gasping for air, your legs giving out beneath you. he caught you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he held you up, his kisses turning gentle and soothing.

as you came down from the high, you became aware of the sound of the locker room door opening and closing, the muffled sounds of someone walking down the hall. soobin’s eyes widened in panic, his hand still buried in your panties, his fingers coated in your arousal. “shit, we can’t get caught,” he hissed, pulling away and hastily buttoning his shirt. you nodded, fumbling to put yourself back together, your heart racing.

you looked around, your eyes landing on a shower stall in the corner, and an idea formed in your mind. “quick, in there,” you urged, pushing him towards it. he looked confused for a moment before understanding dawned, and he grinned, pulling you in after him. the sound of the shower turning on masked the sound of your breathing as you kissed him again, more urgently this time. his hand found its way back to your panties, his touch no longer gentle but demanding, and you could feel his cock, hard and insistent, pressing against your thigh. you reached down to stroke him through his pants, feeling the length and thickness of him, making you even more eager. he groaned into your mouth, his hips bucking against your hand.

his own need was clear, and you knew what you had to do. you sank to your knees, pulling his pants down to reveal his erection, standing proud and thick. without hesitation, you took him into your mouth, your eyes never leaving his as you began to suck. his moans grew louder, his hands tangling in your hair as you worked him with your mouth, eager to bring him the same pleasure he had given you. his taste was new, but familiar in a way that made your stomach flip. you could feel his cock swell even more, and you knew he was close. his grip on your hair tightened, his hips thrusting gently, and you took it as a sign to speed up, to swallow him down deeper. and just as the footsteps grew closer, he came, his release hot and salty on your tongue.

you swallowed, licking him clean as you stood up, your own arousal pulsing between your legs. he pulled you close again, kissing you deeply, his hands roaming over your body. “i want you, (y/n),” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “i want all of you, right here, right now.” and before you could respond, he was lifting you up, setting you on the bench and peeling your panties off, leaving you bare and exposed.

his cock was still hard, and he positioned himself at your entrance, his tip nudging against your wetness. you could feel the size of him, the way he stretched you open even though he hadn't even slid in yet. you desperately tried not to think about namjoon, to focus on the comfort soobin was offering as a friend. his eyes searched yours for consent, and with a nod, you gave it. he pushed in, slow and gentle, filling you completely. you moaned out his name, the sound echoing off the tiles. it was unlike anything you had ever felt before, his girth stretching you in a way that was both painful and exquisite. he didn't stop, though, continuing to move at a pace that was just right, building the tension until you felt like you might come apart at the seams.

his hands cupped your breasts, squeezing and kneading as he thrust into you, his eyes never leaving yours. you could see the passion in them, the way he was losing himself in the moment, and it made you feel alive, wanted. “you're so wet,” he grunted, his voice strained with effort. “so perfect.”

his words were like a balm to your soul, the praise you had been craving, the gentle touch you hadn't realized you needed. you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, urging him to go deeper. “yes,” you murmured, your voice a whisper. “yes, fuck, soo.” his rhythm grew more erratic, his breathing ragged, and you knew he was close. your own orgasm was building, the pressure inside you threatening to burst. “you're gonna cum for me,” he panted, his voice low and commanding. “gonna cum so hard.”

his words sent you over the edge, your body convulsing around him as you screamed out his name. he followed shortly after, his release hot and powerful, filling you up without any barrier. the feeling was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and fear that only added to the intensity of the moment.

as you both came down from the high, panting and trying to catch your breath, you realized what you had done. the comfort sex had turned into something much more intimate, something that would change everything between you. but for now, you pushed those thoughts aside, basking in the warmth of his embrace as the water from the shower washed away the evidence of your shared secret.

his forehead rested against yours, his eyes filled with a tenderness that was new to you. “are you okay?” he asked, his voice gentle. you nodded, your chest heaving with each breath. “yes,” you whispered, feeling a strange mix of emotions. “i'm okay.”

you didn't know how to explain that it was more than just the physical release that had made you feel better. it was the connection, the understanding, the gentle way he had taken care of you when you felt so broken. you knew that this moment would be something you would cherish, something that would sustain you through the storm that was namjoon's cruelty.

but you also knew that you couldn't keep running to soobin every time namjoon hurt you. you had to find a way to stand on your own two feet, to face the demons that were holding you hostage. but for now, in the warmth of the shower, with soobin's arms around you, you allowed yourself to just be. to feel alive and desired, if only for a little while longer.

you could feel the pulse of his cock still inside you, a strangled moan passing your lips as you felt him grow hard inside your pussy, your eyes rolling back at the feeling of him, so lewd and filthy for your cunt, a smirk playing on his face as he began to tilt his hips upward, the overwhelming sensation bringing tears to his eyes. “you really gonna fuck me again?” you practically purred, nails scratching at his chest as his pace began to quicken.

“i have to, you're still dripping for me,” he almost whined, the feeling of your juices drenching his dick just too intense. you pulled him in closer, saving the second blissful sensation of him pulling your cunt apart as he continued to pump his dick into you. you were both unaware of just how loud you were being, as much as you were of the nearby presence, who had been listening to every word with a look of utter anger on his face.

namjoon had been on his way to grab something from his office when he heard the locker room door slam, and the sound of your sobs had drawn him in. he had been torn between leaving and walking in, but his curiosity had gotten the better of him. and now, as he heard the sound of soobin's body slapping against yours, as he heard the two of you gasp and moan, his anger grew. he felt like he had been stabbed in the back, the betrayal a cold, sharp pain in his chest.

his hand was clenched into a fist, and he had to bite his tongue to keep from storming in and tearing the two of you apart. instead, he leaned against the wall, listening as soobin whispered sweet nothings into your ear, as he praised your body and made you feel good about yourself. the irony of the situation was not lost on him; the one person who had been so cruel to you was now being the one to console you in the most intimate way possible.

his mind raced with thoughts of what he should do, but in the end, he decided to stay put. he would let this play out, let soobin have his moment of victory, and then he would deal with it. but for now, he had to listen to the sound of your pleasure, the sound of what he had wanted to be his, being given to someone else. and it made his blood boil.

the following day, tension hung heavy in the air, a storm brewing in namjoon's chest as he awaited your arrival. the echoes of what he overheard between you and soobin replayed in his mind, each word twisting the knife of jealousy deeper into his heart. the anger was sharp, intense, and the moment you stepped into the classroom, he felt his blood begin to boil.

you entered the room with a sense of calm, your steps measured and your expression serene. it was a visible contrast to the way namjoon’s heart raced and his jaw clenched in a desperate attempt to maintain his composure. as the lesson began, he made it his personal mission to nail you into the ground with questions, to strip away that calm exterior and expose whatever emotions lay beneath. “miss (y/n),” he began, his voice cutting through the classroom like a blade, “perhaps you can explain the concept of friedrich nietzsche's ‘übermensch’ to the class?”

the question was pointed, meant to trip you up, to make you falter. but to his astonishment, you didn’t miss a beat.

“the ‘übermensch’ is a concept in nietzsche’s philosophy that refers to someone who has transcended the limitations of conventional morality and societal norms to create and live by their own values,” you replied, your voice steady, almost indifferent. “it’s a cornerstone of his idea of life-affirmation, where one embraces their existence fully and creates meaning in a world that might otherwise seem meaningless.”

namjoon’s eyes narrowed, but he wasn’t done yet. “and what about the eternal recurrence? how does that concept tie into the idea of the ‘übermensch’?”

“the eternal recurrence is the idea that life, in all its events, could potentially repeat itself infinitely,” you answered, still without hesitation. “for nietzsche, the ‘übermensch’ is someone who could embrace this concept, who would live their life in such a way that they’d be willing to relive it over and over again. it’s about living with such purpose and strength that one would welcome even the most painful experiences.” namjoon’s jaw tightened, a muscle in his cheek ticking as he fired question after question at you, trying to find a chink in your armor. but you got all of them right, each answer delivered with precision and clarity. and what made his blood boil even more was that you never once glanced at him. not even for a second.

it was as if he didn’t exist to you, and that realization twisted his gut into knots. the way you didn’t acknowledge his presence felt like a slap in the face. he could feel his anger simmering just beneath the surface, threatening to spill over. but what pushed him closer to the edge was the way you looked at soobin. he noticed it—the way your eyes softened when you glanced at him, the way your lips curved into a genuine smile when you laughed at something he said. the sight made something inside namjoon snap. he could feel the pencil in his hand crack under the pressure of his grip, the wood splintering, but you didn’t even notice.

as the bell rang, signaling the end of class, namjoon watched you closely. everyone else filtered out of the room, but you lingered, packing your things with that same maddening calm. when the last student left, his resolve crumbled. “(y/n),” he called out softly, his voice a mere whisper of the authority it usually held. you paused, glancing up from your bag. “yes, professor kim?”

there was a sting in the formality of your response, a distance that hadn’t been there before. it made his heart constrict painfully. he swallowed hard, trying to steady himself. “please, stop calling me that,” he said, his voice betraying a hint of desperation. you tilted your head slightly, the smallest hint of confusion crossing your features. “but that’s what you asked me to call you,” you replied, your tone even, devoid of the warmth he had once taken for granted.

he felt the sting of his own words being thrown back at him. it was true; he had been the one to demand that distance, to keep you at arm’s length. and now he was paying the price. as you turned to leave, something in him snapped. “i’m sorry,” he blurted out, the words spilling from his lips before he could stop them. you froze, your hand stilling on the strap of your bag. slowly, you turned back to face him. “sorry for what?”

“for everything,” he said, his voice thick with regret. he hesitated, the weight of his confession pressing down on him, but he knew he had to say it. “i fell for you the minute i saw you, you know? you looked so out of place in the club, and it drew me to you. but when i realized you were my student, it pissed me off. it wasn’t supposed to happen like this.” your gaze softened, the hard edges of your expression melting away as you looked at him. “how do you think i felt?” you asked, your voice gentle, understanding.

namjoon sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “i know i’ve been an asshole, (y/n),” he admitted, his voice rough with self-loathing. “but i can’t keep playing this game. it’s tearing me apart.”

you didn’t respond immediately, the silence between you stretching out, heavy with unspoken words. you turned to leave once more, but before you could take another step, namjoon moved. he closed the distance between you in an instant, his arms wrapping around you from behind, pulling you against his chest. “please, don’t go,” he whispered, his voice trembling with the intensity of his emotions.

“namjoon,” you whispered, your voice catching in your throat as you felt the warmth of his body against yours. “you have to stop. you’ll get fired if anyone finds out.”

“i don’t care,” he murmured, his grip tightening as if he was afraid you’d slip away. “i don’t care if it means i get to be with you.”

you stood there, wrapped in his arms, the weight of his words sinking in. It was a dangerous game the two of you were playing, one that could cost him everything. but in that moment, all you could think about was the way his heart beat against your back, strong and steady, grounding you in a world that suddenly felt like it was spinning out of control. as much as you wanted to fight it, as much as you knew the risks, there was a part of you that didn’t want to let go either. the part that had fallen for him too, despite everything, despite the pain and the confusion and the impossibility of it all.

“namjoon,” you whispered again, your voice barely audible, “what are we gonna do?”

he didn’t have an answer, not yet. all he knew was that he couldn’t let you go. not now. not when he had finally admitted the truth to himself. and as you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside the classroom seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in a stolen moment that neither of you was ready to end.

✧.*

a/n: this was soo ass but some sweet soul wanted more joon content so i hope they see this and if they don't like it i will def do another one

under the moon (달 아래) — kim namjoon (김남준)

this is part two, part one can be found here

✧.* 18+

the moment you bolted from the palace, the weight of what had just transpired pressed heavily on your chest, propelling your legs to move faster. your breath came in ragged gasps as you dashed through the corridors and out into the open, the grandiose walls of the palace growing smaller in the distance. each step you took felt like a desperate plea to escape the nightmare that was now your reality. the announcement that king taejo intended to make you his wife had echoed in your mind like a cruel taunt, and you could hardly breathe under the suffocating thought.

as the grand gates of the palace loomed ahead, your legs burned with exhaustion, but you couldn't stop. you wouldn't stop. not until you reached hansol. not until you found safety. the only thing that mattered was putting as much distance between you and the throne room as possible. the cool night air stung your lungs, the world around you a blur of shadow and dim lantern light as you sprinted through the palace grounds.

news of the marriage swept through the palace like wildfire, sparking outrage, disbelief, and determination in equal measure among the princes. hansol was the first to react, eyes wide with shock as he blurted out, “is it true? this can’t be happening.” his voice wavered with a mix of denial and fear, the thought of you being taken away by the king unbearable to him.

baekhyun, his eyes distraught and panicked, whined, “there must be a mistake! something has to be done!” his usual playful demeanor was nowhere to be found, replaced by genuine concern. daniel furrowed his brows, his expression darkening with anger. “we need to act,” he muttered, his voice low but resolute. “we can’t just stand by and let this happen.”

across the room, chaehee let out a scoff, crossing his arms over his chest. “this is none of our concern,” he sneered, dismissing the growing tension among his brothers. his words were like a slap to the face, cold and unfeeling. but before anyone could react, hansol snapped, “shut up, chaehee,” the force of his words stunned everyone into silence. even chaehee himself was left speechless, his eyes narrowing as he regarded his brother with newfound wariness.

hansol, breathing heavily, looked around at his brothers, his eyes burning with determination. “we’re going to save her,” he declared, his voice steady and filled with conviction. “no matter what it takes.” the room was still, the air thick with the weight of his words. one by one, the other princes nodded, their resolve hardening. they had made their decision. they would not let the king have his way. not this time.

your heart pounded in your chest, a wild, frantic rhythm that matched the urgency in your every movement. you couldn’t let this happen. you couldn’t let king taejo take you, bind you to him in a way that would forever benefit him, yet imprison you. as you ran, a silent prayer formed on your lips, begging for someone—anyone—to stop this.

suddenly, the sound of hoofbeats filled the air, the thunderous rhythm sending a jolt of terror down your spine. you glanced over your shoulder, fear gripping you tightly as you saw the figure approaching rapidly on horseback. for a moment, you feared it was one of the king’s guards sent to drag you back to your fate. but as the rider came closer, the familiar face of namjoon materialized out of the darkness, his expression hard as steel. “get on,” he commanded, his voice sharp with urgency.

you stumbled to a halt, your breath catching as you stared up at him, wide-eyed. the shock of seeing him, of all people, froze you in place. “i’m not marrying the king,” you stammered, panic threading through your voice. namjoon scoffed, his gaze flicking back toward the palace, where the looming threat of pursuit seemed imminent. “i know,” he replied, the words clipped. “now get on, unless you want to marry him.”

his words cut through your fear, snapping you out of your hesitation. you knew he was right; you couldn’t stay here, couldn’t risk being caught. with trembling hands, you reached out and grasped his arm, letting him pull you up onto the horse behind him. as soon as you were settled, namjoon spurred the horse forward, the animal lunging into a full gallop that sent the world around you racing by in a blur.

the wind whipped against your face, tears springing to your eyes as you clung to namjoon’s waist. the forest loomed ahead, dark and foreboding, but it was a welcome sight—anything was better than the palace, than the nightmare waiting for you there.

but your relief was short-lived. the distant sound of more horses pounding the earth reached your ears, and when you turned to look, your heart leaped into your throat. hansol, baekhyun, daniel, and younghyun were chasing after you, their horses closing the distance with every passing second. you could see the determination etched on their faces, the desperation in their eyes. namjoon noticed them too, and with a sharp command, he urged his horse to go faster, the beast pushing itself to its limits. but hansol was relentless, his horse surging ahead until he was neck and neck with namjoon.

“give her to me!” hansol shouted over the roar of the wind, his voice laced with both authority and concern. namjoon’s eyes narrowed, his grip on the reins tightening. “what makes you think i’ll do that?” he shot back, his voice cold.

hansol’s gaze burned with intensity as he locked eyes with namjoon. “because she doesn’t belong to you,” he replied, the words heavy with meaning. the silence that followed was thick, the tension between them palpable. you could feel the weight of their standoff, the unspoken challenge that hung in the air. but before anything more could be said, the sound of more horses filled the night, and you turned to see the king’s guards closing in, led by jisoo.

your heart sank at the sight of the soldiers, their faces set with grim determination. jisoo rode at the front, a wooden contraption strapped to the back of his horse—a box. you knew what it was for, and dread curled in your stomach. “come with us,” jisoo called out, his tone authoritative. “king’s orders.”

namjoon’s jaw clenched, his entire body tensing as he prepared to fight. “she’s not going anywhere,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. but you saw the reality of the situation, the hopelessness of it all. the thought of all the princes getting in trouble, of them suffering because of you, was too much to bear. you couldn’t let that happen. with a heavy sigh, you made a decision.

“i’ll be okay,” you said quietly, the words catching in your throat as you slid off namjoon’s horse. “no,” namjoon protested, his hand reaching out to stop you. “don’t do this.”

you forced a small smile, though your heart ached. “i’ll be fine,” you repeated, trying to sound convincing. “it’s better this way.”

hansol’s eyes flashed with anger, his hand twitching as if he wanted to pull you back onto the horse. “you don’t have to do this,” he said, his voice strained. you shook your head, your resolve firm. “i do,” you replied softly, stepping away from them. “i won’t let any of you get hurt because of me.”

the disappointment and worry in their eyes were like daggers to your heart, but you knew this was the only way. you couldn’t risk their safety—not for anything. with slow, reluctant steps, you approached the box, the guards flanking you on either side. you glanced back one last time, meeting namjoon’s gaze, then hansol’s. the pain in their eyes mirrored your own.

as the guards lifted you into the box, jisoo’s voice cut through the air, a solemn promise in his tone. “she’ll be fine,” he assured them. “i’ll make sure of it.” the box door closed behind you, the finality of it echoing in your heart as the darkness enveloped you. the sound of the guards’ horses moving away signaled the end of your brief escape, the end of your hope. and as the box jostled and bumped on its journey back to the palace, you could only pray that somehow, someway, this nightmare would end.

the palace seemed like a different world as you were ushered inside. your mind swirled in disbelief and fear, struggling to grasp the reality of the situation. the court ladies, their faces masked with practiced neutrality, led you to a room adorned with ornate silks and lacquered wood. you felt as though you were moving through a nightmare, each step heavier than the last.

they seated you on a cushioned stool, their hands moving with a mechanical efficiency as they began to undo the fastenings of your dress. “please, just sit still,” one of them said, her tone more of an order than a request. “what are you doing?” you whispered, voice trembling with a mixture of dread and defiance. “i don’t want this, i don’t want any of this.”

the ladies exchanged glances before one of them spoke, her voice cold and detached. “we must examine your body for any scars. nobody with scars can marry the king.” panic surged through you, and you tried to push their hands away. “stop it! i said no!”

but your protests were ignored. they grew more insistent, their hands rougher as they forced your garments off, layer by layer, until you were left bare and shivering. You whimpered, helpless under their unyielding grip, your dignity stripped away along with your clothing. their eyes swept over you, clinical and impersonal, as if you were nothing more than an object to be inspected. tears slipped down your cheeks, hot and bitter, as the humiliation tore through you. you were powerless to stop them, and it felt as though a part of you had been torn away, never to be returned.

after what felt like an eternity, they finally seemed satisfied that your skin was unmarked. the realization that your body had passed their cruel inspection brought no relief, only a deepening sense of despair. they dressed you next, their hands just as brisk and efficient as before, ignoring the tears that streamed down your face. you were adorned in the traditional wedding attire—a vibrant, intricately woven hanbok, its bright colors a stark contrast to the darkness you felt inside. the fabric was heavy, suffocating, as they tied the last ribbons in place. they pulled your hair back, weaving it into an elaborate style that felt too tight, too restricting.

you were barely able to see through the veil of your own tears, but they paid no mind. to them, you were just another duty, another task to be completed. they adjusted the final touches on your face, the paint smearing as it mixed with your tears, but they ignored it, pretending not to notice your distress. finally, they stepped back, their work complete, and motioned for you to leave. your legs felt like lead as you rose from the stool, the weight of the garments and the situation bearing down on you. as you moved down the corridor, the air around you thickened with a suffocating sense of inevitability.

the hall stretched out before you, long and oppressive, each step forward bringing you closer to a fate you did not want to accept. you felt so young, too young to be forced into something like this. your heart pounded in your chest, each beat a desperate plea to escape. as you reached the midpoint of the hall, you saw a familiar figure emerge from the shadows. namjoon. your breath caught in your throat, a spark of hope flickering within you, only to be quickly doused by the reality of your situation.

“don’t do this,” he said, his voice low and urgent. his eyes bore into yours, filled with a desperation that mirrored your own. you shook your head, forcing the words out despite the lump in your throat. “i have to,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you fought to maintain your composure. “i don’t have a choice.”

before namjoon could respond, the king appeared beside him, his presence commanding and suffocating. “are you ready?” king taejo asked, his voice steady and authoritative, as though this was just another routine matter to be settled. you met the king’s gaze, the weight of your impending fate pressing down on you from all sides. you nodded, your voice barely audible as you responded, “yes, your majesty.”

but even as the words left your lips, something within you snapped. desperation took hold, a final surge of defiance rising from the depths of your being. you turned abruptly to the small table beside you, your eyes locking onto the delicate vase that rested there. without a second thought, you seized the vase and smashed it against the edge of the table, the shattering sound echoing through the hall like the cry of your breaking spirit. the shards of porcelain scattered across the floor, but your hand reached down with a singular purpose.

the sharp edge of the broken vase gleamed in your hand as you brought it up to your wrist. time seemed to slow as you pressed it into your skin, the pain slicing through your thoughts like lightning. blood welled up, red and stark against the white porcelain and your pale skin.

“stop!” hansol’s voice rang out from behind you, filled with horror, but it was too late. your vision blurred as the blood flowed, your body swaying as the strength drained from you. you heard namjoon call your name, his voice distant and desperate, but everything was fading fast. the world around you dimmed, the sounds of the palace growing faint as you slipped into darkness. the last thing you felt was the coldness of the floor as your body collapsed, and then, nothing.

you woke to a hazy, throbbing sensation in your head, the disorienting jumble of noise and light mixing together. as your consciousness slowly sharpened, you became aware of a heavy, comforting presence beside you. you turned your head, your vision still blurry, and saw hansol sitting on the edge of the bed, his eyes red and swollen, his expression a mix of sorrow and relief. the room was lit, the soft glow of a lamp casting long shadows across the walls. you could feel the warmth of the bed beneath you, the soft texture of the sheets brushing against your skin. your wrist, bandaged tightly, throbbed with a dull ache—a stark reminder of your desperate act.

hansol’s face, though tear-streaked and weary, was the first thing you clearly saw as your vision cleared. he looked at you with a blank, almost defeated expression, as though the events of the past hours had drained all the life from him. his eyes were full of unshed tears, and his gaze, though filled with concern, was tinged with an almost resigned sadness. you attempted to lift your head, but a wave of dizziness made you settle back into the pillows. weakly, you asked, “is the marriage stopped?”

hansol's eyes filled with fresh tears at your question. without saying a word, he pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you with a fervent desperation that spoke volumes. his hold was firm, as though he was afraid you might disappear again. the warmth of his body against yours was a balm to your wounded spirit. he nodded into your hair, his voice muffled but earnest. “yes, it’s stopped. never do that again,” he pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion.

you could only manage a soft sob against his shoulder, your tears mingling with his. you hugged him back, the raw comfort of the embrace a balm for the deep despair that had taken root in your heart. jis words—desperate, pained—were a stark reminder of how close you had come to losing everything. “i thought i’d never see you again,” he murmured, his voice heavy with relief and sorrow. “please, never do that again.”

you whispered a shaky promise, your voice barely audible. “i won’t. i promise.” hansol’s hold on you tightened briefly before he pulled back slightly, wiping away the tears from his cheeks. he looked at you with a solemn expression and said, “you’ll be working as a court lady in the palace. that’s your punishment.”

you nodded weakly, accepting the judgment. the prospect of working as a court lady felt like a small price to pay compared to the chaos you had narrowly escaped. you weren’t sure what the future held, but it seemed like a less bitter pill to swallow than the marriage you had so desperately sought to avoid. as you stepped out of the palace’s maiden room, you caught sight of namjoon standing nearby, his figure silhouetted against the corridor’s light. the sight of him sent a jolt of mixed emotions through you. he looked as though he had been waiting for you, his expression a mixture of concern and frustration.

you remained silent as he approached, your gaze dropping to the floor. namjoon’s face was stern, but there was a flicker of something softer in his eyes as he reached out and took your bandaged wrist in his hand. the touch was gentle, but his grip was firm, as though he was trying to steady himself in the face of his own emotions.

“how could you be so stupid?” he asked, his voice a blend of exasperation and genuine worry. the words were harsh, but there was an underlying tenderness that belied his stern tone. you looked up at him, your voice barely a whisper. “i wasn’t going to marry against my will.”

namjoon’s brow furrowed as he looked at the scarred skin beneath the bandages. “you’ve scarred your body for no good reason,” he said, a trace of frustration seeping through. you managed a faint, weary smile. “the scar looks better on you than on me.”

for a brief moment, namjoon’s stern expression softened. he offered you a weak, almost apologetic smile before patting your head gently. the gesture was unexpectedly comforting, a rare show of affection amidst the chaos. without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving you with the faint warmth of his touch lingering on your head. as you watched him disappear down the corridor, you felt a profound sense of exhaustion, but also a flicker of hope.

in the heart of the palace, where the corridors were as grand as they were intimidating, you began your new role as a court lady. your days were filled with endless tasks, each one a reminder of your fall from the privileged world you once knew. lady jeon, your assigned mentor, was a woman of formidable presence and a reputation for cruelty. her sharp eyes missed nothing, and her standards were unyielding.

from the moment you stepped into her care, you felt her scrutiny. the first task she set before you was an assortment of menial duties—dusting ornate vases, arranging fresh flowers, and meticulously organizing the shelves of her chamber. every mistake was met with her disapproving gaze and a cruel punishment: stacking books on your head. the tomes were heavy and cumbersome, their pages rustling as they were added one after another. if you faltered or misplaced an item, you were forced to balance an ever-increasing stack, adding to the strain and frustration.

one day, lady jeon’s sharp eyes widened in surprise as you began crafting a bar of soap. her initial skepticism was evident as you mixed lye with fat and various herbs. she watched with a mixture of fascination and suspicion as you worked. you explained the process in detail, your hands skillfully moving to blend the ingredients. “this is soap,” you said, holding up the resulting mixture for her inspection. “it’s used for cleaning and has healing properties.”

her gaze was critical. “soap? what makes you think this will be of any use in the palace? and why should i believe you know what you’re doing?” you tried to ignore her tone and continued, though each mistake led to a new round of book-stacking. the heavy volumes pressed against your neck and shoulders as you wobbled under their weight, but you persevered. each error only drove you to refine your craft further, driven by the desire to prove yourself.

your routine, however, took a sudden turn when you heard frantic cries coming from crown prince taehyung’s quarters. without thinking, you ran toward the commotion. as you burst into the room, your eyes widened in horror at the sight of taehyung’s blotched skin. the rumors about his illness were true—he was afflicted with a severe rash, and he was about to immerse himself in a tub of cold water.

“stop!” you shouted, rushing to him and trying to pry the jug from his hands. “don’t use cold water. it’ll make the itching worse!”

taehyung’s eyes widened with shock and anger. “how dare you come in here? you’re not supposed to know about this!” he snapped, pushing you away. you landed on the floor, but you quickly scrambled to your feet. ignoring the pain, you called out, “please, don’t use cold water. It will aggravate the rash. warm water with peppermint leaves will soothe it.”

as you spoke, you noticed taehyung’s hesitance. he watched you with a mix of skepticism and curiosity as you instructed another court lady to fetch a bucket of warm water and peppermint leaves. you worked swiftly, applying the warm solution to his inflamed skin, explaining as you went, “peppermint has soothing properties. it’ll help reduce the itching and inflammation.”

before you could finish, lady keon stormed into the room, her face a mask of horror. “what are you doing?” she demanded, her voice sharp with authority. “how dare you touch the crown prince!” taehyung opened his mouth to protest, but lady jeon was quick to intervene. she grabbed your arm and dragged you out of the room, her grip unyielding. “you’ve overstepped your bounds,” she snapped. “your punishment will be severe.”

back in her chamber, you were once again subjected to the cruel task of balancing books on your head. the punishment was even harsher this time, as lady jeon observed with a harsh, unyielding gaze. as you struggled to maintain your balance, she sat across from you, eating a simple meal of plain rice porridge. she finally broke the silence. “how did you know that peppermint would help?”

you looked up, your voice barely above a whisper. “my grandfather had the same issue. i learned what helped him.”

lady jeon’s eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, she was silent. she continued to eat, her movements methodical and slow. “lady jeon, why is it that you only eat rice poridge?” you asked, noting her grim expression. her expression remained stoic as she locked eyes with you, “i'm dying,” two words, simple enough to be spoken so lightly, yet enough to make your stomach dropped.

you coughed, trying to make sense of the overwhelming silence as you mustered up your next question. “why do you hate me so much?” you asked weakly, the heavy books pressing against your frail wrists.

the question seemed to strike a chord. lady jeon slammed her spoon down onto the table, the clatter echoing in the room. “because,” she said, her voice harsh and tinged with bitterness, “you remind me of myself.” her gaze hardened, and she continued, “you’re too damn nice and too trusting. it’s a weakness in this world, and i hate seeing it in you.”

the revelation stunned you. the cruelty you faced, the harshness of her punishments—it all made a grim sort of sense now. lady jeon’s cruelty was not just a reflection of her own frustrations but a defense against her own vulnerabilities. as the minutes passed and the evening wore on, you were left alone with your thoughts, the sting of her words and the weight of your punishment settling heavily on you. the palace had become a battleground of emotions and expectations, and you were left to navigate its treacherous terrain.

the silence of the palace courtyard was abruptly shattered by screams that pierced through the tranquil atmosphere. the sudden, jarring sounds echoed through the stone corridors, causing you to jump in surprise. your heart raced as you exchanged a worried glance with lady jeon, her stern demeanor momentarily softening.

you both hurried outside, your footsteps quick and light on the cold marble. as you reached the courtyard, the scene that unfolded before you was both shocking and horrifying. chaeyeon, one of the palace aides, was being whipped mercilessly by princess seulgi. the sound of the whip cracking against her back was almost unbearable, and chaeyeon's cries of pain cut through the air like a knife.

“what’s happening?” you asked in a voice trembling with fear and disbelief. seulgi, her expression cold and unyielding, barely glanced at you as she continued her punishment. “she was caught stealing from the Fourth Prince,” seulgi responded dismissively, holding up a small, ornate hairpin. the metal glinted menacingly in the sunlight, and your heart sank as you recognized it.

the hairpin was one you had asked chaeyeon to return discreetly. it had belonged to Namjoon, dropped in the bath during a moment of chaos. realization hit you like a wave, and you felt a surge of guilt and desperation.

“stop it,” you practically snapped, rushing toward them. “please, stop this. chaeyeon was just following my instructions to return the hairpin. it was my fault, not hers.” chaeyeon’s eyes were wide with fear and gratitude as she looked at you. “please, don’t,” she begged, her voice barely audible over the whipping. “it’s not her fault. i did it.”

ignoring the pleas, you turned back to seulgi, your voice firm despite the lump in your throat. “it was my mistake. if anyone should be punished, it should be me. please, whip me instead.” seulgi’s gaze narrowed as she considered your offer, a flicker of interest lighting up her cold eyes. with a sneer, she let chaeyeon go, the whip still crackling in her hand. “very well,” she said, her tone dripping with malice. “since you’re so eager to take her place.”

before you could react, seulgi was already tying your hands to the same wooden pole. the rough ropes dug into your skin as she secured them, and your heart pounded in your chest. the anticipation of the impending pain was almost as torturous as the pain itself. seulgi’s eyes were cold and calculating as she prepared to strike.

to the side, you noticed the tense figures of baekhyun, daniel, and hansol. their faces were etched with concern and distress. baekhyun’s eyes were wide with alarm, and he took a step forward, but jisoo restrained him with a firm grip. hansol’s face was a mask of grim determination, his fists clenched at his sides. “seulgi, stop this,” hansol’s voice rang out, strained and desperate. “this isn’t right.”

seulgi’s lips curled into a scornful smile as she raised her hand to crack the whip once more. “why should i listen to you? she chose this herself.” as the whip began its descent, you braced yourself for the searing pain. the crack of the whip was deafening, and the sting of the leather against your back was a sharp, biting sensation. the pain was immediate and intense, but before the next strike could land, a hand shot out and stopped seulgi’s arm mid-air.

seulgi looked up, her eyes narrowing with surprise and irritation. standing before her was namjoon, his face a mask of unyielding authority. “that’s enough,” he commanded, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. he stepped forward, his presence commanding immediate respect and silence. seulgi’s eyes widened in shock as namjoon approached you. without a word, he untied the ropes binding your hands, his touch surprisingly gentle against the raw skin. “what are you doing here?” she demanded, her voice tinged with irritation. “this is not your concern.”

namjoon’s gaze was fixed on you, his expression a complex mixture of anger and protectiveness. “she’s mine,” he said firmly, his tone brooking no argument. “no one else can lay a finger on her.”

hansol’s face contorted in a grimace, his eyes reflecting a mixture of relief and frustration. the tension in the air was palpable, a mixture of fear, anger, and helplessness. seulgi’s scowl deepened as she took a step back, her demeanor one of begrudging acceptance. you felt a mix of emotions as namjoon’s gaze softened slightly, though the intensity of the moment was far from over. you stood there, your back stinging from the whip’s lash, feeling a strange sense of relief mingled with lingering dread.

baekhyun’s quarters were a curious blend of regal opulence and childlike whimsy, filled with an assortment of traditional toys that seemed almost out of place among the luxurious furnishings. as you followed him inside, your eyes were immediately drawn to the colorful collection scattered about. wooden spinning tops painted with vibrant designs, intricately carved wooden animals, and delicate paper kites, their strings neatly coiled, lay spread across a large, intricately woven rug.

he picked up a small, intricately crafted wooden horse, its legs jointed to allow for movement. with a soft, nostalgic smile, he began to demonstrate how it could gallop across the floor. “this one was made by a craftsman from the western region,” he said proudly, his eyes lighting up with fondness. “it’s one of my favorites.”

you watched with interest as he moved from toy to toy, each piece revealing a glimpse of his more youthful side. he showed you a set of spinning tops, their colors creating a mesmerizing blur as he spun them on the floor. “and this,” he said, holding up a wooden top with a painted dragon, “is a game my family used to play during festivals.”

as he enthusiastically displayed his collection, you couldn’t help but ask, “why are you so intent on showing me these?”

baekhyun’s smile faltered, and his brow furrowed as he set down the toys. he looked at you with a mixture of vulnerability and sadness. “no girl has ever treated me like you,” he admitted, his voice tinged with a sadness that was almost palpable.

you laughed softly, touched by the sincerity in his voice. before you could respond further, jisoo entered the room, his expression serious and formal. the atmosphere shifted instantly, and you quickly stood, bowing in respect as jisoo approached. his gaze swept over both of you, and he cleared his throat. “i have an announcement,” he said, his tone carrying the weight of official duty.

baekhyun’s face brightened momentarily, but his smile faltered when he heard jisoo’s next words. “his majesty has decreed that you are to be married.”

the words seemed to hit Baekhyun like a physical blow. “married?” he protested, his voice cracking with disbelief. “but why? to whom? i—” jisoo cut him off with a firm nod. “it’s the king’s orders. the decision is final.” with that, he turned on his heel and walked out of the room, leaving a stunned silence in his wake.

the impact of the news was immediate and overwhelming. baekhyun stood there, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of the announcement had physically crushed him. his face was a mask of anguish and confusion. you moved closer, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “it’s going to be alright,” you said softly, though you were unsure of how to truly comfort him. “whoever the girl is, she’ll be lucky to have you.”

baekhyun’s eyes met yours, a mixture of pain and desperation evident in his gaze. “i can’t love her,” he said quietly, the words heavy with resignation. “i don’t even know who she is. how can i just accept this?”

you sighed, feeling the depth of his distress. “you have to pull through,” you said gently. “you’re a kind person, and you’ll find a way to make it work. besides, i’m sure the girl will see the good in you.”

his eyes searched yours, a flicker of hope mingled with sadness. “why won’t you marry me instead?” he asked suddenly, his voice filled with a mix of hope and despair. the question caught you off guard. “i don’t want to be a second wife,” you said softly, though you could sense his disappointment even before he voiced it.

baekhyun’s face fell, and he shook his head slowly. “you’re a mean liar,” he said with a forced smile. “you wouldn’t even be my first wife.”

before he could say more, you reached out and pulled him into a hug. the gesture surprised him, and he stiffened for a moment before sinking into the embrace. his heart ached with a profound sense of loss as he felt your warmth and sincerity envelop him. the hug was a silent comfort, a brief respite from the turmoil that had overtaken his life. You held him close, your own heart aching for the sadness he felt. the tears you had both tried to hold back now fell freely, mingling with the unspoken words and emotions that filled the space between you.

the grand hall was awash with opulence, filled with the clinking of fine china and the murmur of polite conversation as the royal family and their guests gathered to celebrate baekhyun’s wedding. you moved among the crowd with practiced grace, balancing a tray of tea cups as you served the guests. the air was thick with the scent of fresh flowers and the rich aroma of the tea.

baekhyun sat at the head table, his expression a mix of strained formality and discomfort. next to him, his new wife, kim taeyeon, attempted to mask her anxiety behind a delicate smile. jiyoung approached baekhyun with a sickly warm smile. “how do you feel about the wedding, baekhyun?” she asked, her voice filled with maternal concern.

baekhyun’s scowl was immediate and pronounced. “i don’t like it,” he replied bluntly, his eyes darting around as though searching for an escape. his honesty seemed to catch taeyeon off guard, and she frowned, her eyes darting to her husband with a mix of confusion and hurt. king taejo, seated at the center of the head table, patted baekhyun on the shoulder with an air of paternal authority. “you’ll get used to it,” he said reassuringly, though his words lacked the comfort baekhyun likely needed.

princess seulgi, her expression somewhat aloof, leaned towards taeyeon. “you’re a lucky woman,” she remarked, her tone carrying a hint of condescension. taeyeon forced a smile in response, though her eyes betrayed her unease. as you moved to serve tea to namjoon, you locked eyes with him across the room. his gaze was steady, but something in his posture struck you as unusual. as you approached, you noticed a shiver wracking his frame. you tried to ignore the uneasy feeling that was beginning to grow within you.

when you poured tea into his cup, a chilling sight met your eyes. namjoon’s lips were stained with a dark, crimson blood that was beginning to drip down his chin. panic surged through you, and you let out a sharp scream, the sound piercing through the otherwise composed atmosphere of the hall.

the commotion erupted suddenly. at the same moment, king taejo’s body slumped forward, his face hitting the table with a sickening thud. the room erupted into chaos. the guests scrambled, their screams blending into a cacophony of horror. the princes rushed to their father, their faces contorted in anguish as they tried to revive him. namjoon’s condition deteriorated rapidly, and Jisoo rushed to his side, barking orders for medical assistance. his face was pale, and he looked grave as he examined the king. the royal guards were quick to intervene, ushering the panicked crowd away from the scene.

jisoo’s voice cut through the chaos, cold and unyielding. “the king’s pulse is weak,” he announced, his tone flat as he looked up at the assembled crowd. “it appears he was poisoned.” the room fell into stunned silence, the gravity of the situation sinking in. your heart raced, and you turned to fetch your medicine, hoping to find a remedy or at least offer some aid. but before you could take a step, jisoo’s hand shot out to stop you. his expression was a mix of authority and cold detachment.

“stop right there,” he said firmly. “you’re under arrest for the attempted murders of king taejo and kim namjoon.”

your blood ran cold as the words hit you. “what? no, that’s impossible!” you protested, your voice trembling with disbelief. “i didn’t do anything!”

guards surged forward, their expressions stern and unyielding. they seized you roughly, dragging you away from the scene. you struggled against their grip, your pleas for justice echoing through the hall. “i swear, i didn’t do this! i was just serving tea!” the guards paid no heed to your protests, and you were forced into the cold, oppressive darkness of an underground chamber. the walls were damp and echoing with the sounds of dripping water. the chamber was stark and barren, a heavy iron door clanging shut behind you with a deafening noise.

you sank to the floor, the weight of the accusations pressing down on you. tears streamed down your face as you grappled with the enormity of the situation. the betrayal, the confusion, and the fear all swirled together, leaving you feeling lost and helpless in the unforgiving darkness.

in the room of the royal palace, the atmosphere was charged with tension and desperation. hansol and daniel, their faces etched with worry and frustration, were pacing the floor in the king’s chamber. king taejo lay propped up in his bed, his pallid face a stark contrast to the rich, regal fabrics draped around him. his condition was grave, and the room was filled with the faint, oppressive scent of illness.

“your majesty,” hansol began, his voice trembling slightly as he approached the bed, “we have reason to believe that nabi is innocent. the evidence against her is false.” king taejo's eyes, heavy with the weight of impending death, flickered with a mixture of irritation and exhaustion. “there was poison found in her room,” he replied, his voice raspy and weak. “it’s clear she was involved.”

“but we have witnesses,” daniel interjected urgently, stepping forward. “we’ve spoken to several people who can attest to her innocence.” the king's gaze remained unyielding, a cold resolve in his eyes. “it does not change the fact that poison was found, nor does it alter my decision. she will be hanged.”

the finality of his statement struck hansol and daniel like a physical blow. hansol’s face turned ashen, and he clenched his fists in frustration. “you can’t do this!” he protested. “we have to find out the truth!” daniel’s eyes were pleading, but the king’s resolve remained unshaken. “it is done,” king taejo said, turning his head away dismissively.

in your cell, the heavy silence was only broken by the occasional drip of water from the stone walls. you were bruised from the guards’ rough handling, your limbs aching from the beatings. the cold, unforgiving darkness of the cell seemed to press in on you from all sides, making your isolation feel even more profound. suddenly, you heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching. your heart leaped with a mix of hope and apprehension. the door creaked open, and namjoon stepped into the dimly lit cell. his eyes were filled with a fierce determination as he approached.

“i didn’t do it,” you said weakly, looking up at him with a pleading expression. “i swear, i didn’t.” namjoon’s expression softened slightly, though his face remained stern. “i know,” he said quietly. “i’ll find out who really did this. you have my word.” with that, he turned on his heel and walked out of the cell. you watched him go, feeling a glimmer of hope amidst your despair. namjoon’s resolve was a small beacon of light in your otherwise dark world.

that night, namjoon kept watch from the shadows, his gaze fixed on the maiden’s quarters. his keen eyes caught sight of a cloaked figure slipping stealthily from the building. without hesitation, he moved to intercept, drawing his sword with a practiced, fluid motion. “stop right there,” he commanded, his voice sharp and authoritative. the figure paused, slowly turning to reveal a face shrouded in darkness. namjoon’s sword remained at the ready as he advanced, his eyes narrowing.

just then, another cloaked figure emerged from the shadows across from them. namjoon’s suspicion deepened. “both of you, show yourselves,” he ordered. “give it up now, and i might let you live.”

the first figure revealed herself as jiyoung, her face set in a smug expression. the second figure, emerging from the cloak’s folds, was seulgi. her smile was equally self-satisfied, and together, their presence was a shocking revelation.

in the king’s chamber, the atmosphere was somber. lady jeon entered with a tray of tea, her movements deliberate and controlled. king taejo’s eyes, now dimming with the weight of his impending death, regarded her with a mixture of curiosity and resignation. “are you happy to see me die?” the king asked, his voice barely a whisper.

lady jeon’s gaze was unwavering. “i could never hate you,” she replied, her tone soft yet tinged with a hint of bitterness. “i loved you once.”

the king’s eyes widened slightly. “you’re speaking of the past. it was many years ago.” lady jeon nodded. “i miscarried, and you married jiyoung instead. it was a heartbreak i could never overcome.”

the king’s face grew somber. “what is it you want from me now?”

lady jeon’s eyes hardened with a resolute fire. “i have one wish before you go. i was the one who put poison in the tea. i want to be hanged for my crime, and I want nabi to be spared.”

king taejo’s eyes narrowed in disbelief. “you’re lying. there’s no evidence of your guilt.”

lady jeon’s voice was firm, though she kept a calm exterior. “it’s true. the poison was in the tea i served to you and the fourth prince.” she then produced a vial, its contents a dark, ominous liquid. “i ask to be hanged and for nabi to be released.”

the king’s gaze flickered between lady jeon and the vial. “very well,” he said, though his voice carried an air of finality. “call the guards.”

she smiled bitterly. “i’ll see you very soon, your majesty.”

as the heavy iron door of your cell creaked open, you were met with a wave of harsh light and the stoic faces of the palace guards. your heart pounded in your chest, a cacophony of confusion and hope swirling within you. the guards, their expressions unreadable, began leading you out of the cold, dark confines of the cell. “why am I being released?” you asked, your voice hoarse from disuse and grief.

one of the guards, his tone devoid of emotion, replied, “the culprit has been found. you are no longer needed here.”

a knot of unease formed in your stomach. “who is it?” you pressed, the words tumbling out in a desperate rush. as if in answer, lady jeon appeared, her hands bound and a serene smile playing on her lips. your breath caught in your throat, and an intense wave of anger and despair surged through you. without thinking, you lunged toward her, but the guards intervened, restraining you with practiced ease.

“let me go!” you cried, struggling against their hold. “i need to speak with her!” the guards hesitated, exchanging glances before reluctantly allowing you a brief moment. you seized the opportunity, guiding lady jeon to the secluded cave where you and chaeyeon had hidden after the bath incident. your hands trembled as you tried to move the rocks obstructing the entrance, but they remained stubbornly in place.

“please, we can escape together,” you pleaded, your voice cracking under the strain of your emotions. “we can get out of here.” lady jeon’s gaze was filled with a mix of sadness and resignation as she pulled you into a tender embrace. her arms were warm and comforting, a stark contrast to the cold, harsh reality that awaited both of you.

“don’t trust anyone in the palace,” she murmured into your hair. “they are all deceitful and dangerous.” tears streamed down your face, and you clung to her, your sobs wracking your body. “please, don’t go,” you begged, your voice barely audible through the torrent of grief. “please, just stay with me.”

lady jeon’s fingers brushed your hair gently as she whispered, “i’d be dead soon anyway. it’s better this way.” she placed a soft kiss on your forehead, her touch lingering for a final, bittersweet moment. with a final, sorrowful glance, lady jeon turned and walked away. you watched her retreating figure until she disappeared from view. your heart felt like it was being torn apart as you made your way back to the palace, each step a painful reminder of the loss you were enduring.

as you stumbled through the corridors, your voice rose in a hoarse, broken plea. “your majesty, please spare lady jeon,” you cried out repeatedly, but the halls were empty, your words echoing only to meet deaf ears. when you finally reached the palace grounds, you collapsed onto the ground, your body wracked with sobs. the weight of your grief and the realization of lady jeon’s fate pressed heavily upon you. the once vibrant grounds seemed to darken around you, reflecting your internal turmoil.

hansol and jisoo emerged from one side, their expressions etched with concern and helplessness. hansol’s eyes were filled with a profound sadness, unable to offer more than a silent witness to your suffering. jisoo’s face was grim, his usual composure overshadowed by the gravity of the situation. suddenly, a familiar presence approached. namjoon, his face a mask of determination and concern, appeared at your side. without a word, he scooped you up into his arms, lifting you effortlessly off the ground. you struggled against him for a moment, but his hold was firm yet gentle.

“it’s okay,” he murmured, his voice soothing as he cradled you against his shoulder. “it’ll be alright. i’m here.” his words, though not a complete balm for your anguish, provided a small measure of comfort. you buried your face in his shoulder, allowing your tears to flow freely as he carried you through the palace grounds. his presence was a beacon of solace amid the storm of emotions that had overwhelmed you.

as he walked, his strides steady and purposeful, you clung to him, your sobs slowly subsiding into quiet, exhausted breaths. namjoon’s steady murmurs of reassurance continued, a soft lullaby against the backdrop of your grief. “it’s gonna be okay,” he repeated, each word infused with a tenderness that cut through the darkness of your despair. “i promise.” you looked up at him through tear-streaked eyes, feeling a fragile thread of hope amid the overwhelming sorrow. as he carried you through the palace and away from the tragic scene, you clung to the promise that perhaps, in time, the pain would ease.

the palace was a flurry of activity and hushed whispers as the news of king taejo’s death spread like wildfire through the kingdom. the once vibrant corridors and grand halls now felt heavy with an air of somber anticipation. everywhere you went, the gravity of the king's demise seemed to press down, casting a veil of melancholy over the palace and its inhabitants.

the funeral ceremonies had been conducted with solemnity, and now, a new chapter was beginning. taehyung, the crown prince, was being crowned as the next king. the ceremony was an elaborate affair, filled with the grandeur expected of such a significant event. the air was thick with the scent of incense and the murmur of prayers, as the high priests performed rites to ensure a smooth transition of power. taehyung stood tall, his expression a mix of resolve and trepidation, as the crown was placed upon his head. the weight of the kingdom’s future now rested upon his shoulders.

in the aftermath of the coronation, tensions were high. chaehee, the third prince, was barely able to contain his fury. he stormed through the halls, his anger manifesting in shattered dishes and overturned furniture. the sound of breaking porcelain and clattering metal echoed through the palace, a stark contrast to the ceremonial calm that had just enveloped the kingdom.

jiyoung, now dealing with the new political landscape, attempted to calm him. “chaehee, control yourself!” she demanded, her voice sharp and commanding. “your outbursts won’t change anything. we’ll get rid of taehyung soon enough.”

chaehee’s rage was palpable as he glared at her. “it’s not right,” he spat. “he’s unworthy, and you know it. he’s a puppet, and we’re the ones who’ll be strung along while he plays king.”

meanwhile, newly crowned king taehyung addressed the court with a somber determination. his voice, though steady, held an undercurrent of urgency. “in light of the recent events and the dire need for rain,” he announced, “we will perform the rain ritual. our people are suffering from a severe drought, and we must do all we can to bring relief.”

the ritual was an old tradition, one that involved a ceremonial process of selecting a prince to lead a procession through the town, praying for rain. the princes’ names were written on sticks, which would be drawn by jisoo, the king’s advisor. the chosen prince would then ride through the streets, offering prayers and sacrifices to appease the heavens.

as the princes gathered, baekhyun, his face pale and his hands trembling, voiced his fear. “what happens if no rain comes after the ritual?” he asked, his voice cracking with anxiety. jisoo, his expression cold and detached, replied, “the chosen one will be sacrificed. it is believed that the heavens will only answer our prayers if the price is paid.”

baekhyun’s eyes widened in terror, and he desperately pleaded, “please, take my name out. i don’t want to be the one chosen.” laughter erupted among the courtiers and some of the princes, their mockery ringing harshly in the tense atmosphere. jisoo, unmoved by baekhyun’s pleas, reached into the urn and pulled out a stick. his face remained impassive as he revealed the name written on it.

chaehee’s expression darkened with malicious glee. “namjoon?” he scoffed. “with that scar of his, he’d only scare the rain away. he’s hardly fit to be a messenger for the gods.” namjoon’s shoulders sagged, and a shadow of sadness crossed his face. he stood silently, his gaze fixed on the floor, his heart visibly heavy with the burden of his impending fate.

you were in lady jeon’s former chamber, packing her belongings into boxes. the task was a grim one, and your tears fell freely as you moved her personal effects. the weight of the day’s events pressed heavily on you, adding a layer of sorrow to the already somber task. the door creaked open, and namjoon stepped in, his face drawn and weary. you looked up, wiping your tears hastily. “is everything alright?” you asked, your voice soft and concerned.

namjoon’s gaze was troubled as he spoke. “the rain ritual, i’ve been chosen to participate,” he said, his tone heavy with resignation. “i’m worried that my scar will be a problem. i need it covered up.”

your heart ached for him. “i’ll help you,” you said, though the task ahead seemed daunting. you led him to a small vanity where you began the meticulous process of applying makeup to hide the scar on his face. with gentle hands, you applied the foundation, carefully blending it to cover the disfigurement. every touch was tender, your focus entirely on the task. namjoon’s discomfort was palpable as he flinched slightly under your touch, but he remained still, his eyes reflecting a mixture of shame and hope.

“it isn’t that bad,” you reassured him, your voice soothing. “it’s just a scar. you’re still the same person.” namjoon’s eyes met yours in the mirror, and a small, grateful smile tugged at his lips. “thank you,” he murmured, his voice tinged with emotion. “it means a lot to me.”

once the makeup was applied, you handed him the mirror. he examined his reflection closely, a look of tentative relief crossing his features. “it looks much better,” he said, his tone lighter. “thank you for this.”

as the rain ritual began, the air was thick with anticipation and desperation. the town was crowded with people, their faces upturned as they watched the procession. taehyung, with his newly crowned dignity, led the ceremonial march. the atmosphere was electric with hope and despair, the people’s prayers mingling with the rhythmic clamor of drums and the chants of supplicants.

namjoon, dressed in ceremonial robes and mounted on a horse, rode through the streets, his presence commanding a mixture of reverence and awe. the crowd watched in silence, their eyes fixed on him as he offered his prayers. after what felt like an eternity, the first droplets of rain began to fall. the sky, previously clouded and gray, opened up, and the rain poured down in a life-giving deluge. the crowd erupted into cheers and tears of joy, their relief overwhelming.

chaehee, standing on the sidelines, was fuming with rage. his face was a mask of fury as he watched the scene unfold, his anger directed at namjoon and the entire ritual. the sight of the rain, a sign of the gods’ favor, only seemed to fuel his ire further. you found yourself overwhelmed by the turn of events. as you moved through the halls, the weight of everything that had happened pressed down on you. your emotions were a tangled mess of relief, sadness, and exhaustion.

hansol’s approach was unexpected, his expression a mix of concern and something else that you couldn’t quite place. as he drew near, you could see the tension in his shoulders, the tightness of his jaw. he stopped in front of you, his eyes searching yours with a gravity that made your heart race.

“was it you who covered namjoon’s scar?” he asked, his voice low and edged with a hint of something you couldn’t immediately identify. you nodded, feeling a sudden chill run through you. “yes, it was me.” his reaction was immediate, his face falling into a look of disappointment that was almost palpable. “why are you so upset?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly. the question hung in the air between you, a contrast to the celebratory mood that still lingered in the palace.

hansol was silent for a moment, his gaze dropping to the floor as if grappling with his thoughts. finally, he looked up, his eyes meeting yours with a hesitant resolve. “i wanted to ask you something,” he said, his tone unsteady. “i want to marry you.”

the words struck you like a bolt of lightning, leaving you momentarily disoriented. the request was so unexpected that it took a few moments for your mind to process it. you stared at hansol, and in that moment, a wave of disturbing visions surged through your mind.

you saw the historical echoes of a tyrant king, the fourth king gwangjong, whose ambition had led him to murder his brothers to secure his throne. the visions were vivid and horrifying, with gwangjong’s face morphing into namjoon’s, a sinister reflection of a dark fate. the realization came crashing down on you like a torrent, and you found yourself whispering, “stay away from prince namjoon. he will kill you,” over and over, as if it were a mantra that could ward off the impending doom.

tears welled up in your eyes, slipping down your cheeks as you repeated the warning in a trance-like state. hansol’s confusion grew evident, his hands reaching out to shake your shoulders gently. “what are you talking about?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

you barely registered his words, your mind lost in a haze of fear and foreboding. “stay away if you want to live,” you managed to say, your voice breaking with emotion. the urgency in your tone left no room for debate. “stay away.” with those final, desperate words, you turned and fled from the room, your heart pounding in your chest. the fear and shock were overwhelming, and you knew you had to find a way to prevent the terrible future you had glimpsed from coming to pass.

the atmosphere in the royal palace had shifted in the days following taehyung’s coronation. the once uneasy marriage between baekhyun and taeyeon had started to show signs of improvement. baekhyun, who had been so resistant to the idea of marriage, seemed to be finding solace in small, unanticipated joys.

he decided to share his collection of traditional toys with taeyeon. he led her to a quiet corner of the palace where a small table was set up with an assortment of handcrafted toys: intricately carved wooden tops, delicate paper kites, and colorful spinning tops. the toys were beautifully made, each one a testament to the craftsmanship of their creators.

“look at this one,” baekhyun said, holding up a wooden top with a flourish. “it’s called a ‘cheongchun.’ you spin it and see how long it can keep going.” taeyeon’s eyes lit up with genuine interest as she took the top from him. she gave it a spin, and it twirled gracefully on the table. “it’s wonderful,” she said, her smile wide. “i’ve never seen anything like it.”

baekhyun’s expression softened as he watched her. “i used to play with these all the time as a child,” he said, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. “they remind me of simpler times.” taeyeon laughed softly, her previous unease dissipating. “it’s nice to see you enjoying something so simple.”

as the two of them continued to explore the toys, an unexpected sense of camaraderie began to form between them. it was clear that taeyeon’s genuine interest and baekhyun’s willingness to share a piece of his past were forging a new connection, one that seemed to ease the tension that had once been suffocating.

meanwhile, you had been assigned to attend to taehyung’s needs, and today that meant holding towels while he took a bath. you stood near the edge of the opulent bathing room, the scent of fragrant oils and warm steam filling the air. taehyung, relaxed and unworried, was immersed in the large, ornate bath, the water shimmering with golden hues from the light filtering in through the intricately designed windows.

the serene moment was abruptly shattered when a group of guards burst into the room, followed closely by chaehee, who was flanked by a grim-faced entourage. your heart skipped a beat as you caught sight of namjoon storming in behind them. his face was pale, his eyes wide with alarm.

“run!” namjoon shouted, his voice tinged with desperation. “taehyung, get out of the water!” but it was already too late.

as you turned to the bath, your breath caught in your throat. taehyung was struggling, his face contorted in pain. he gasped for breath, his body convulsing violently. blood bubbled from his mouth, and the water around him began to turn a disturbing shade of red. it was clear that something was terribly wrong. panic surged through you as you rushed forward, your hands trembling as you reached for taehyung. “your majesty! what’s happening?” you cried out, but your voice was swallowed by the chaos unfolding before you.

the guards rushed forward, but it was too late. taehyung’s struggles grew weaker, his body sinking lower into the water. the horrifying truth was becoming clear: someone had poisoned the bathwater. mercury, a deadly toxin, had been mixed into the water, causing taehyung’s horrific reaction. namjoon’s face was a mask of shock and helplessness. he looked at him with a mixture of horror and regret. “no, this can’t be happening,” he muttered, his voice barely audible over the commotion.

chaehee stood to the side, his expression cold and detached as he watched the scene unfold. there was a grim satisfaction in his eyes, a chilling contrast to the devastation surrounding him. as taehyung’s body grew still, the room fell into a stunned silence. the atmosphere was suffused with grief and disbelief as the truth settled over the assembled witnesses. taehyung was dead, and the source of the poison remained unknown, though the look on chaehee’s face spoke volumes.

“announce the new king,” chaehee said quietly, his voice carrying an unsettling calm.

in the midst of the chaos, jisoo appeared, his face drawn with the weight of the moment. “by the decree of king taehyung’s death,” he announced, “prince chaehee will be crowned the next king.”

your mind reeled with the enormity of the events, the fear and sorrow threatening to overwhelm you. the scene was surreal, the opulence of the bathhouse now tainted with tragedy. as the reality of taehyung’s death sank in, you felt a sense of loss and helplessness. you watched as the remaining princes, including namjoon, struggled to come to terms with the sudden shift in power. the transition of kingship was sudden and brutal, leaving a palpable sense of instability in its wake.

the atmosphere in the palace had shifted from tense anticipation to outright horror as chaehee’s latest decree echoed through the halls. the proclamation came as a shock to everyone: the byun household, led by baekhyun, had been accused of deceit and failure to pay taxes over the years, a grave offense punishable by death. the news spread quickly from daniel to you, namjoon, hansol, and the other servants, each one feeling the weight of the announcement.

you were rushing through the corridors, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to make sense of the unfolding chaos. the palace was in turmoil, the once calm and orderly environment now a frenzied landscape of confusion and fear. you ran, desperate to see if you could somehow intervene or offer comfort, but the weight of the news felt like a leaden shroud around you.

you and the others arrived just in time to witness the grim scene unfolding in the courtyard. baekhyun and taeyeon were surrounded by a ring of guards, their faces pale and etched with despair. chaehee stood at the center of it all, his expression cold and detached as he prepared to carry out his decree.

taeyeon’s eyes were wide with terror as chaehee raised his bow. without hesitation, he released the arrow. it flew through the air with a deadly precision, striking taeyeon’s heart. she gasped, her body crumpling to the ground with a final, shuddering breath. the sight was horrific: her eyes wide open in shock as she lay motionless on the cobblestones. the impact of her sudden death was crushing, her life extinguished in an instant.

baekhyun, now completely distraught, fell to his knees beside her, his sobs wracking his body. the anguish on his face was palpable, his sorrow raw and unrestrained. “taeyeon!” he cried out, his voice breaking with each word. “taeyeon, no!”

the scene was a cacophony of grief and terror. you stood frozen in spot, unable to tear your eyes away from the sight. the cold finality of chaehee’s actions was overwhelming. as if to add to the cruelty, chaehee drew another arrow, aiming it at baekhyun. the arrow struck him in the arm, and he cried out in pain, clutching at the wound as he continued to weep for his fallen wife.

daniel tried to rush forward, his face a mask of desperation. “baekhyun! no!” he shouted, but the guards held him back. namjoon, his face contorted with a mix of rage and sorrow, pushed past the guards, determined to reach his brother.

the chaos continued to swirl around you as baekhyun, weakened and in excruciating pain, was struck once more, this time in the stomach. namjoon reached his brother just as he fell to the ground, his breaths coming in shallow, agonized gasps. namjoon’s eyes were filled with tears as he knelt beside him, who reached out a trembling hand toward him. “i’m sorry,” baekhyun whispered, his voice barely audible over his gasps. “i’m so sorry for everything.”

namjoon’s face was a picture of heart-wrenching grief as he shook his head. “don’t talk like that,” he choked out, his voice breaking. “you’re going to be okay. you’ll get through this.”

baekhyun’s hand found namjoon’s, gripping it with a strength that belied his fading life. “no,” he said weakly. “i don’t want to live like this. i'd rather you finish it. please.”

namjoon’s tears flowed freely as he raised his sword, the weapon heavy in his trembling hands. daniel’s pleas fell on deaf ears as he tried to reach his brother, but the guards prevented him from doing so. namjoon’s face was a mask of anguish as he swung the sword, the blade slicing through baekhyun’s wound. baekhyun cried out one last time, his body collapsing onto the lifeless form of his wife. he reached out for her hand, his own trembling and weak.

with a final, desperate effort, baekhyun clung to taeyeon’s hand, his fingers stretching out as if trying to hold onto the last remnants of his life. the scene was heart-wrenching: the two of them, now forever entwined in death, their lives tragically cut short by the brutal decree of a new ruler.

chaehee, having witnessed the brutal execution, turned away from the grisly scene. his eyes fell upon hansol, who had been watching from the shadows, his expression a mix of shock and regret. chaehee approached him, his tone deceptively calm despite the chaos that had just transpired. “well,” chaehee said, his voice cold but tinged with a hint of approval, “this was your best idea, i will admit.”

hansol’s eyes were filled with a mix of sorrow and anger. “thank you,” he replied quietly, his voice barely more than a whisper. “your majesty.”

chaehee gave him a curt nod. “you’ve earned my trust,” he said, his gaze icy. “remember that.”

with that, he retreated back into the palace, leaving hansol alone in the courtyard. the scene before him was a tableau of destruction and grief, the once vibrant and bustling palace now a place of death and mourning. as the last echoes of baekhyun’s cries faded away, hansol stood in the midst of the carnage, his heart heavy with the weight of the events that had unfolded. the courtyard, now eerily silent, was a reminder of the ruthlessness that had taken hold of the palace. the sun began to set, casting long shadows over the bodies of baekhyun and taeyeon, their lives extinguished by the cruel machinations of betrayal.

the courtyard was suffused with a chilling silence, the aftermath of the brutal executions leaving an air heavy with despair and loss. namjoon’s once steady composure had shattered, replaced by a raw, unrestrained panic. his face was a mask of anguish, his eyes wide and unseeing as he staggered through the wreckage of the palace grounds.

as he moved, his steps were erratic, a desperate rhythm that seemed to echo the frantic beats of his heart. the weight of baekhyun’s death was too much to bear, each step carrying the burden of unfulfilled promises and shattered dreams. his cries were guttural, an expression of the profound grief that consumed him. his usually strong demeanor was now reduced to a quivering, lost soul.

you watched from the sidelines, your own heart breaking as you recalled every moment with baekhyun—the memory of his playful taunts, his innocent laughter, the times you fought with him over trivial matters, and the confession of love that had been so unexpected yet sincere. the vivid recollections were overwhelming, a cruel reminder of the vibrant life that had been so abruptly extinguished.

tears streamed down your face as you followed namjoon, each step feeling like an agonizing journey through a landscape of sorrow. the images of baekhyun, so full of life, seemed to blend with the sight of his lifeless body lying in the courtyard. the contrast was jarring, the vibrant memories now mingling with the stark reality of his death. you wished to take it all back, to give everything for just another minute of him showing you his toys, or fighting with you, or even confessing.

eventually, your legs gave out beneath you. you collapsed to the ground, the weight of your emotions too much to bear. without thinking, you threw your arms around namjoon, pulling him into a desperate embrace. the contact was a small comfort, a fleeting moment of shared grief amidst the overwhelming chaos. namjoon’s body shook with his sobs, his head resting heavily against your shoulder.

hansol, who had been silently battling his own guilt, stumbled over to where you and namjoon were huddled. his tears flowed freely, mingling with his sweat and grime. he had seen the destruction he had helped bring about, and the burden of his actions was too much to bear. he reached out, his hands trembling as he touched namjoon’s shoulder, but he couldn’t bring himself to say anything.

daniel emerged from the shadows, his face a portrait of numbness and pain. his steps were mechanical, his eyes focused on his brother’s lifeless form. younghyun and yeosang joined them, their expressions mirroring the profound grief that enveloped the courtyard. they stood together, united in their sorrow, their hearts heavy with the weight of the day’s events.

the group formed a somber circle around you and namjoon, each person grappling with their own grief. the only sound was the occasional sob, the soft rustling of the wind, and the distant murmur of the palace’s remaining inhabitants. the atmosphere was suffused with a deep, aching silence, punctuated only by the sounds of your and namjoon’s grief.

amidst the chaos, namjoon’s voice emerged, hoarse and trembling. “sing,” he pleaded, his words barely more than a whisper. “please, sing.”

you were momentarily dazed and confused, the request seeming almost surreal amidst the overwhelming sadness. but as your eyes fell on baekhyun’s lifeless body, the weight of the moment became unbearable. you choked on a sob, the finality of the sight threatening to drown you in sorrow.

with a deep breath, you closed your eyes and began to sing. the melody that emerged was one of deep sorrow and aching beauty, a song that seemed to resonate with the collective pain of everyone present. it was a hauntingly beautiful tune, one that spoke of loss and longing, a melody that had been passed down through generations, its origins lost to time. the song wove through the air, carrying with it the weight of unspoken words and unfulfilled promises. it was a melody that spoke to the soul, a haunting lullaby that touched on the deepest corners of grief. as you sang, your voice quivered, each note a testament to the heartache that pervaded the courtyard.

namjoon clung to you, his tears mixing with yours as he listened to the song. hansol, daniel, younghyun, and yeosang all wept openly, their cries blending with the sorrowful notes of your melody. the scene was a powerful tableau of collective mourning, each person united in their grief, their pain momentarily alleviated by the soothing balm of your song.

the melody seemed to linger in the air, wrapping around the gathered mourners like a comforting embrace. it was a song that would be remembered, a testament to the love and loss that had marked this tragic day. “tonight, i'll send you the firefly from that day, to your window, i hope you have sweet dreams,” as the final notes faded into the evening air, the silence that followed was heavy but filled with a sense of bittersweet closure. you knew that baekhyun, wherever he was, would be listening. maybe, by his window. maybe, in his sweet dreams.

the sky above the river stream had deepened into a twilight blue, the last vestiges of daylight casting a gentle glow over the water. the river, once a place of daily tasks and fleeting moments, had become a sanctuary, a quiet refuge from the storm of recent events. the soothing murmur of the stream filled the space between you and namjoon, creating a serene backdrop to the intimate moment unfolding between you.

you and namjoon had wandered here together, the path illuminated by the soft, shimmering light of the setting sun. the air was cool and crisp, a welcome change from the stifling heat of the palace. as you approached the river’s edge, you could feel the tension of the past days easing, replaced by a tender calm that settled between you. namjoon stood close, his hand occasionally brushing against yours as you walked. his presence was comforting, a steady anchor amidst the tension that had surrounded both of you. when you reached the spot where you had first served him lunch, the memories of that day seemed to merge with the present, creating a poignant sense of continuity.

the river flowed gently, its surface catching the last golden rays of the sun, creating a dance of light and shadow that played across the water. the tranquility of the scene seemed to soothe the remnants of distress in your heart, and you found yourself gazing at namjoon, a soft smile on your lips.

his eyes met yours, and for a moment, the world around you faded into insignificance. the turmoil of recent days, the losses, the betrayals—all seemed to vanish in the face of this simple, serene moment. he stepped closer, his gaze steady and affectionate. “what is it about this place?” you asked softly, breaking the silence. “why do you love the river so much?”

namjoon’s expression softened, his eyes reflecting the gentle light of the stream. “it’s quiet here,” he said, his voice a low murmur. “everything slows down. there’s no noise, no demands—just the sound of the water and the peace it brings.”

you nodded, understanding his sentiment. the river had always been a haven, a place where one could escape the clamor of palace life and find solace in nature’s embrace. “i wish we could run away,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “find a place where we could be free from all of this.” namjoon’s eyes darkened with determination. “we will,” he assured you, his tone firm yet gentle. “just wait until i’m given the throne. once i’m in a position of power, we’ll leave together. find our own place, somewhere peaceful.”

his words were a promise, a beacon of hope that illuminated the uncertainty of the future. the idea of escaping the constraints of the palace and starting anew with namjoon filled you with a sense of hope and anticipation. it was a dream that seemed within reach, a future that you could look forward to with him by your side. as the evening sky deepened, he reached out, his hand gently cupping your face. rhe touch was tender, his fingers warm against your skin. his gaze was filled with a mixture of love and longing, and before you could fully process the moment, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours.

the kiss was soft and sweet, a gentle exploration that conveyed all the emotions neither of you could put into words. it was a kiss filled with promise and affection, a tender connection that spoke of the future you both hoped to build together. the world around you seemed to blur as you lost yourself in the sensation, your heart racing with a mixture of joy and relief.

when he finally pulled back, his eyes searched yours with a depth of feeling that made your heart ache with happiness. “i love you,” he said softly, his voice a caress against the stillness of the evening. the evening drew on, the sky slowly darkening into night. as you sat by the river, the two of you shared a quiet, tender moment that was both a balm for your weary souls and a promise of brighter days to come.

the night had settled into an oppressive silence, a heaviness that seemed to weigh down every corner of the palace. chaehee lay in his bed, drenched in sweat, the sheets twisted around him like a shroud. his eyes were wide open, staring into the darkness as if willing it to offer him some reprieve. the voices—baekhyun’s and taehyung’s—haunted him with their pleading, their cries for help echoing through his mind with a cruel, relentless intensity.

he tossed and turned, the hallucinations of baekhyun and taehyung becoming more vivid with each passing hour. their faces, twisted in anguish, appeared at the edge of his vision, their voices growing louder, more insistent. “let us out!” they begged, their words a constant, desperate refrain. “help us! save us!”

chaehee’s breath came in ragged gasps, his heart pounding erratically as the guilt and fear overwhelmed him. he could see their ghostly forms moving around him, their eyes wide with a mixture of terror and accusation. his room seemed to close in on him, the shadows lengthening and darkening, becoming oppressive barriers he could not escape.

he screamed, a raw, guttural sound that seemed to tear from his very soul. his scream echoed through the empty corridors, a reflection of his inner turmoil. his screams were a desperate attempt to break free from the suffocating grip of his own mind, but they only served to amplify his sense of isolation. the more he fought to silence the voices, the louder they seemed to grow, until they were a cacophony of despair that reverberated through his entire being.

as the night wore on, chaehee’s mind became a battleground of fear and remorse. he knew that his actions had sealed his fate, that the lives lost were a direct consequence of his ruthless ambitions. the visions and voices seemed to mock him, a cruel reminder of the price he had paid for power.

in your own room, the night was less tumultuous but no less fraught with anxiety. the visions of namjoon’s future, the one you had glimpsed with such dread, played on a loop in your mind. the knowledge that he might become the next king, his victory won at the cost of his brothers’ lives, was a heavy burden to bear. you wrestled with your fear and uncertainty, wondering if you could trust him or if he was doomed to repeat the same path of bloodshed and betrayal. the possibility of changing his destiny seemed both daunting and necessary.

as you lay in bed, lost in these thoughts, you heard a soft rustling. your heart skipped a beat as you realized someone was in your room. namjoon’s silhouette emerged from the darkness, his presence both a comfort and a cause for anxiety. his eyes, usually so confident, were shadowed with an intensity that spoke of his own inner conflict.

he approached you quietly, his movements deliberate and gentle. “i wanted to see you,” he whispered, his voice a low murmur that seemed to cut through the darkness. you blinked, trying to clear the haze of sleep and confusion. “why?” you asked, your voice barely audible.

namjoon climbed into your bed, his body warm against yours. he kissed you softly, his lips brushing against yours with a tenderness that belied the intensity of his gaze. the kiss deepened, his hands moving to cradle your face as he explored the contours of your lips. you blushed, feeling a mix of exhilaration and apprehension. “your highness, this isn’t right,” you murmured, your voice trembling slightly as his hands roamed down your body. his touch was both electrifying and disorienting, a physical affirmation of the emotions you had been grappling with.

his hands found their way to the sash of your robe, deftly untying it and revealing your naked body to the cool night air. you gasped as he cupped your breasts, his thumbs tracing circles around your erect nipples. the sensation was both exhilarating and terrifying, and you felt your body respond despite your mind’s reservations. namjoon’s hand slid down further, his fingers teasing the wetness between your legs. “you want this as much as i do,” he whispered, his voice filled with a primal hunger that sent shivers down your spine.

his mouth returned to yours, his tongue delving deep as he ground his hips against yours. you could feel the hardness of his desire pressing against you, and it was a feeling that both thrilled and intimidated you. his kisses grew more insistent, his hands more demanding. your resolve crumbled as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. the world outside your chamber was forgotten as you gave in to the passion that had been simmering between you for so long.

his fingers worked their magic, bringing you closer to the edge of pleasure. your breaths grew ragged, and you found yourself whispering his name. he chuckled darkly, the sound a heady mix of arrogance and satisfaction. “say it louder,” he urged, his voice thick with lust. “say it like you mean it, like you want me to claim you completely.” you moaned, the sound swallowed by his mouth as he claimed you with a fierce kiss. your body arched off the bed, and you clutched at his shoulders as the first waves of pleasure crashed over you.

namjoon’s touch grew rougher, his kisses more possessive. he pulled away, his eyes blazing with desire. “i meant when i said you were mine, nobody else's,” he said, his voice a harsh whisper that sent a thrill of fear through your body. your eyes widened, but instead of pulling away, you found yourself nodding, your body eager for the release he offered. he positioned himself over you, his large cock nudging against your wet entrance. without a word, he pushed inside you, filling you completely. the sensation was overwhelming, and you cried out, the sound echoing through the silent room.

his thrusts were deep and powerful, each one pushing you closer to the precipice of ecstasy. the pain and pleasure melded together, creating a symphony of sensations that had you gripping the bed sheets. your body responded to his rough handling, your hips rising to meet his every thrust. the room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and the harsh pants of your shared passion.

his grip on your hips tightened, his movements becoming more erratic as he approached his own climax. “let go for me, my lady,” he grunted, his teeth grazing your earlobe. the dirty talk sent a jolt of excitement through you, and you felt yourself tighten around him, your orgasm building rapidly.

the tension grew, a coil in your belly that threatened to snap at any moment. and then it did, sending you spiraling over the edge with a scream that was muffled by his mouth. namjoon’s own release followed quickly, his warmth filling you completely. he collapsed on top of you, his body heavy with satisfaction and exhaustion.

the silence that followed was tense, filled with the thundering of your hearts and the harshness of your breathing. the reality of what had just transpired settled over you like a shroud, and you felt a sense of foreboding that seemed to pervade the very air around you. you knew that this moment of passion would have consequences, consequences that could change the course of your lives forever. but for now, all you could do was lie there, wrapped in the arms of the man you loved, and hope that somehow, you could find a way out.

hansol stood silently behind the door, his heart pounding in his chest as he listened to the muffled sounds of your whispers and namjoon’s low voice. every word that reached his ears felt like a dagger twisting in his gut, a bitter confirmation of the betrayal he never imagined he would face. you were the woman he wanted, the woman he loved, and now namjoon was taking you from him. the realization sent a wave of anger and despair crashing over him, leaving him reeling.

his face twisted into a grimace, the bitterness in his heart hardening into resolve. he wasn’t going to lose you to namjoon, not to someone he viewed as a brother but who was now his rival in the cruelest of ways. hansol knew he had to act, to do something to stop this from happening. he needed to ensure that namjoon wouldn’t take you away, that you wouldn’t be lost to him.

with his mind set, hansol turned on his heel and made his way down the shadowed corridors of the palace, his footsteps echoing in the oppressive silence. he reached chaehee’s chambers, where the once-powerful king lay weak and frail, his body ravaged by the consequences of his own actions. the room was dimly lit, the flickering candlelight casting eerie shadows across the walls.

hansol hesitated for a moment at the door, but the memory of what he had just heard pushed him forward. he entered quietly, his expression unreadable as he approached the bed where chaehee lay, his breath shallow and labored. “your majesty,” hansol began, his voice a low murmur, careful not to disturb the frail king too much. “i’ve come with news that you need to hear.”

chaehee’s eyes, glazed with pain and fatigue, flickered toward hansol. there was a moment of silence, the air thick with tension. finally, chaehee gave a faint nod, indicating for him to continue. “it’s about namjoon,” hansol said, his voice steady but laced with underlying tension. “he plans to marry nabi and take her away.”

for a moment, chaehee’s expression remained blank, as if the words didn’t quite register. then, slowly, a flicker of something—anger, perhaps—ignited in his dull eyes. his lips twitched, and he managed to whisper through the dryness of his throat, “that won’t happen.”

hansol’s brow furrowed in concern as he watched chaehee struggle to form the words. “your majesty, what is wrong? you don’t look well.” but chaehee didn’t answer. Instead, he reached out with a trembling hand and gestured weakly toward a nearby table. hansol followed the gesture and noticed a piece of paper and a quill, both items seemingly insignificant but now imbued with a sense of urgency. with great effort, chaehee pulled himself up just enough to take hold of the quill, his movements shaky and deliberate.

hansol watched in growing alarm as chaehee, his breathing labored, began to write on the piece of paper. the scratching of the quill against the parchment seemed to echo in the stillness of the room, a sound that seemed almost foreboding in its finality. hansol stepped closer, wanting to offer help, but something held him back—an instinct that told him this moment was too important to interrupt.

chaehee’s hand moved slowly, his writing growing more erratic as he struggled against his failing strength. his face was a mask of concentration, the last reserves of his willpower being channeled into this one act. hansol’s concern deepened as he noticed the king’s eyes growing more distant, as if he were slipping away even as he wrote.

and then, as if on cue, chaehee’s body gave out. the quill slipped from his fingers, clattering onto the table as his hand went limp. his body collapsed against the pillows, his breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. hansol rushed to his side, panic flaring in his chest as he reached out to support the king. “your majesty!” his voice was urgent, his hand shaking as he tried to rouse chaehee. but the king’s eyes were closed, his face pale and slick with sweat. the hallucinations that had plagued him, that had driven him to the edge, seemed to have claimed him at last.

hansol’s heart raced as he realized chaehee’s condition was far worse than he had imagined. but then, his eyes fell on the piece of paper, still resting on the table where chaehee had been writing. the ink was smudged in places, evidence of chaehee’s trembling hand, but the words were clear enough to read.

hansol’s breath caught in his throat as he read the contents of the note. It was a decree, hastily written but legally binding. the words declared namjoon as the next king, a title that would come with immense power and responsibility. but it was the second part of the note that made hansol’s blood run cold. chaehee had written that namjoon was to be married off to the khitan, a fate that would take him far from the palace, far from you.

hansol’s mind raced as he processed the implications. chaehee, even in his weakened state, had seen the threat that namjoon posed and had taken steps to neutralize it. but as hansol stood there, holding the fragile piece of parchment, a dark sense of satisfaction crept over him. namjoon would be taken care of—sent away, out of the picture. and you…you would be free from him, free to be with hansol as he had always wanted.

the air was heavy with tension as namjoon stood in the lit chamber, his heart pounding in his chest. the words hansol had just spoken reverberated in his mind, each syllable slicing through him like a blade. he felt as though the walls were closing in around him, the weight of his impending coronation and the marriage decree crushing his spirit. this was supposed to be the culmination of everything he had worked for, everything he had endured. but now, the path to the throne was stained with betrayal.

hansol’s expression was cold, calculated, as he watched namjoon grapple with the reality of what he had just been told. the two men stood facing each other, their silhouettes stark against the flickering candlelight, a silent battle of wills playing out between them.

“this isn’t what i want,” namjoon finally said, his voice strained but steady. “i have no desire to marry a girl from khitan. this was never part of my plan.” hansol’s lips curled into a faint, mocking smile. “these are the king’s last wishes, mamjoon. if you want to be crowned, you’ll have to honor them. there’s no way around it.”

namjoon’s jaw tightened as he clenched his fists at his sides. the weight of the crown he had sought for so long now felt like a shackle around his neck, dragging him into a fate he wanted no part of. “i already have someone i wish to marry,” he said, his voice low but firm, as though speaking the words aloud would somehow make them more real. hansol raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. “oh? and who might that be?” his tone was laced with false curiosity, a venomous edge lurking beneath the surface.

namjoon met his gaze without flinching. “nabi. i want to marry nabi.”

there was a beat of silence, the air between them crackling with tension. hansol’s smile widened, but it didn’t reach his eyes. instead, it was a twisted smirk, a reflection of the bitterness that had taken root in his heart. “you mean to say,” hansol began, his voice dripping with condescension, “that you’ve set your sights on the same woman i intended to marry?”

namjoon’s brow furrowed, confusion flickering across his features. “what are you talking about?” hansol chuckled darkly, the sound filled with a bitter satisfaction. he took a step closer, closing the distance between them. “she was mine first, namjoon. did you know that? before you came along and swept her off her feet, she was going to marry me. she was the one who held my heart.”

namjoon’s heart clenched, the words hitting him like a punch to the gut. he had known there were others who cared for you, who admired you from afar. but hansol? the man he had considered a friend, a brother? he had never imagined that hansol had harbored feelings for you, let alone that he had planned to marry you.

“is that true?” namjoon asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he searched hansol’s face for any sign of deceit. hansol’s expression was unwavering, his eyes hard as steel. “it’s the truth,” he said simply, as if stating a fact that should have been obvious. “but then you came along, and everything changed. she forgot all about me, all about what we had. you took her from me.”

namjoon felt a cold knot of guilt form in the pit of his stomach. he had always known that his rise to power would come at a cost, that there would be sacrifices along the way. but this? he had never wanted to hurt hansol, never wanted to come between him and someone he cared about. the realization that he had unknowingly done just that twisted his insides in knots. he looked away, unable to meet hansol’s gaze. “i can't believe it,” namjoon said quietly, his voice thick with regret. “she liked you first.”

“it wouldn’t have mattered,” hansol interrupted, his voice sharp. “because she chose you. and now, you’re going to marry someone else.” namjoon’s breath caught in his throat, his mind reeling from the weight of hansol’s words. the betrayal, the anger, the hurt—it was all too much to bear. but what choice did he have? the crown, the throne, it was all within his grasp, and yet it felt like it was slipping away from him. the price of power was steep, and he was starting to realize just how much he would have to pay.

his face went stoic, the emotions that had been swirling inside him now buried deep beneath a mask of cold resolve. if this was what needed to be done to secure his future, then so be it. he would marry the girl from khitan. he would honor the late king’s wishes. and he would become the next king, no matter what it cost him. “fine,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion as he forced himself to meet hansol’s gaze. “proceed with the wedding.”

hansol’s eyes narrowed, the smirk on his lips returning. “as you wish, your majesty,” he said with a mock bow, his words laced with bitterness. but even as he spoke, a flicker of something else—something darker—passed over his face. satisfaction, perhaps, or the satisfaction of knowing that he had dealt a blow to namjoon that would leave another lasting scar.

the corridors of the palace felt colder, more oppressive, as you moved through them with a heaviness in your chest. it had been days since the intimate confrontation with namjoon, and his words still echoed in your mind, a constant reminder of the love shared between you. you had known this moment would come, but nothing could have prepared you for the intensity brought with it.

when you entered the chamber, you found namjoon waiting for you. he stood by the window, his back to you, his broad shoulders tense beneath his royal robes. the light from the setting sun cast long shadows across the floor, and the air was thick with unspoken words. for a moment, you hesitated, unsure if you should approach. but before you could make a decision, namjoon turned to face you, his expression unreadable, but his eyes—those dark, piercing eyes—were filled with a mixture of hurt and anger that made your heart lurch in your chest.

“is it true?” he asked, his voice low and strained, as though it pained him to speak. “is it true that you wanted to marry hansol?”

you opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat. the truth was, you hadn’t expected him to find out. you hadn’t even been sure of your own feelings until it was too late. but now, with namjoon standing before you, the reality of the situation was impossible to avoid. “yes,” you whispered, the confession slipping out like a broken promise. “it’s true.”

namjoon’s expression hardened, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. he took a step closer, his voice rising with barely restrained anger. “how could you do this to me? how could you hurt me like this?”

“i didn’t mean to—” you started, but namjoon cut you off, his voice trembling with emotion. “didn’t mean to? do you have any idea what you’ve done?” his eyes bore into yours, searching for answers you couldn’t give. “i thought you loved me. i thought we had a future together.”

your heart shattered at the accusation in his voice. you had loved him—still loved him, even now—but the tangled web of emotions and loyalties had twisted everything into a nightmare from which there seemed to be no escape. “i did love you,” you admitted, tears welling in your eyes. “i still do. but i was confused. hansol, he—”

“i don’t want to hear it,” namjoon snapped, turning away from you as though the sight of you was too painful to bear. “i don’t ever want to see you again.”

the finality in his words was like a knife to your heart. you reached out, desperate to touch him, to hold onto something of what you once had, but namjoon stepped back, his expression cold and distant. “please, namjoon,” you begged, your voice trembling with desperation. “don’t do this. we can—”

“it’s over,” he said sharply, cutting you off once more. “whatever we had, it’s over.” you stood there, frozen in place as namjoon walked out of the room, leaving you alone with the crushing weight of your own mistakes. the tears you had been holding back finally spilled over, and you collapsed onto the floor, your sobs echoing through the empty chamber.

days turned into weeks, and the pain of namjoon’s rejection lingered, festering like an open wound. despite your efforts to reach him, to explain, namjoon ignored you at every turn. he avoided your gaze, refused to acknowledge your presence, and any time you tried to speak with him, he would simply turn and walk away, leaving you feeling more alone than ever. then came the day of the wedding.

you stood in the crowd, watching with a hollow feeling in your chest as namjoon exchanged vows with the girl from khitan. she was beautiful, regal, everything a queen should be. but as you looked at her, all you could feel was a deep, aching sorrow, knowing that it should have been you standing beside namjoon, promising to be his for the rest of your life. you tried to force a smile, to show support, but the tears in your eyes betrayed your true feelings. and even as namjoon took his new bride’s hand and led her into the palace, he never once looked in your direction. you felt as though you were drowning, suffocating beneath the weight of your own heartache. but you swallowed it down, determined to find a way to move on, to survive the pain that threatened to consume you.

it wasn’t until a few weeks later that the first wave of nausea hit. you had been going about your duties, trying to distract yourself from the constant ache in your chest, when the world suddenly spun, and you had to clutch the edge of a table to keep from collapsing. the nausea was overwhelming, and before you knew it, you were rushing to the nearest chamber pot, heaving up everything you had eaten that morning.

at first, you dismissed it as nothing more than stress, a reaction to the emotional turmoil you had been enduring. but as the days went on, and the nausea continued, a new, terrifying realization began to take root in your mind. you were pregnant.

panic seized you, and for a long moment, you couldn’t breathe. the implications of this—of carrying namjoon’s child—were too overwhelming to process. you had no idea what to do, who to turn to. but then, one name came to mind, the only person you could trust with this secret.

your hands trembled as you sought him out, your heart pounding in your chest as you found him in one of the palace corridors. he turned to you with a smile, but the moment he saw the look on your face, his expression shifted to one of concern. “what’s wrong?” daniel asked, his voice gentle as he reached out to touch your arm.

you looked up at him, your eyes filled with fear and uncertainty. “i think i’m pregnant.”

for a moment, daniel was silent, his expression unreadable as he processed the news. but then, to your surprise, he pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms strong and comforting around you. “it’s gonna be okay,” he murmured, his voice soft and reassuring. “i’m here. i’ll help you through this.”

you clung to him, burying your face in his shoulder as the weight of your situation threatened to overwhelm you. his presence was like a lifeline, anchoring you in a storm of emotions you didn’t know how to navigate. “but what am i going to do?” you whispered, your voice trembling with fear. “should i tell namjoon?”

daniel hesitated, then slowly shook his head. “no. he just got married. if you tell him now, it’ll only make things worse. people will think you’re a wench, something awful could happen.” the truth in his words stung, but you knew he was right. if word got out that you were carrying namjoon’s child, it would be a scandal of epic proportions, one that could ruin not just your life, but namjoon’s as well.

“then what should i do?” you asked, desperation creeping into your voice. daniel looked at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and resolve. “you’ll have to marry someone else,” he said quietly. “pretend the baby is theirs.”

the very thought of it made your heart ache. the idea of marrying someone else, of lying about the child growing inside you, was almost too much to bear. but what choice did you have? there was no other way to protect yourself, to protect namjoon. “who?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “who could i marry?”

daniel’s gaze was steady, but you could see the pain in his eyes as he spoke the next words. “marry me.”

your breath caught in your throat, your eyes widening in surprise. of all the people you had considered, daniel had never been one of them. he was your friend, your confidant, but you had never thought of him in that way. and yet, as you looked into his eyes, you saw the depth of his feelings for you, feelings he had kept hidden for so long. “daniel,” you began, but he shook his head, silencing you with a gentle smile.

“it’s okay,” he said softly. “i’ve cared about you for a long time. if this is the only way i can be with you, then I’m willing to do it.”

tears welled in your eyes as you stared at him, overwhelmed by his selflessness, by the depth of his love for you. and in that moment, you knew there was no one else you could trust more. you threw your arms around him, holding him tight as the tears finally spilled over. “thank you,” you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. “thank you so much.”

he held you close, his arms strong and comforting around you. so good did it feel for him, to finally embrace the woman everybody seemed to love. he knew you didn't love him but, in your embrace, it didn't seem to matter. it didn't seem to hurt as much as he thought it would. he could accept everything—your child, namjoon's anger, hansol's resentment. he could take it all, if it meant he could take you.

the palace was quiet in the late afternoon light, the golden rays filtering through the tall windows and casting soft shadows on the polished floors. it was a peace that was deceptive, a calm that masked the turbulent emotions brewing just beneath the surface. namjoon sat at his desk, staring down at a map of the kingdom, but his mind was elsewhere, lost in thoughts he couldn’t escape. the lines on the map blurred as his mind wandered, his focus slipping away as a dull ache settled in his chest.

it had been weeks since he had last seen you, weeks that felt like an eternity. he had tried to push you from his mind, to drown himself in the duties of the court, but nothing could erase the memory of your confession, of the way you had looked at him with tears in your eyes as you admitted the truth. the pain of that moment was still fresh, a wound that refused to heal, and no matter how much he tried to bury it, it continued to gnaw at him, a constant reminder of what he had lost.

the door to his chambers creaked open, and namjoon barely registered the sound. he was too lost in his thoughts, too consumed by the weight of his own heartbreak. but when he heard the familiar voice of hansol, he slowly lifted his gaze, his expression guarded. “your highness,” hansol greeted, stepping into the room with a grim expression. he closed the door behind him, his movements slow and deliberate as if he were bracing himself for something unpleasant. “i have news.”

namjoon’s heart sank at the tone in hansol’s voice. there was a heaviness to it that made his chest tighten with unease, but he forced himself to remain composed, to keep his emotions in check. “what is it?” he asked, his voice steady despite the turmoil churning inside him. hansol hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering away from namjoon as if he were unsure how to proceed. but then he straightened, his expression hardening as he delivered the news.

“nabi and daniel are getting married.” the words struck namjoon like a fatal blow, the air leaving his lungs in a sharp exhale. his grip on the edge of the desk tightened, his knuckles turning white as he struggled to maintain his composure. he had known this was coming. he had known the moment he had walked away from you that this would be the inevitable outcome. but hearing it spoken aloud, hearing the finality in hansol’s voice, made it all too real.

he felt something break inside him, a part of himself that had been holding on to hope, now shattered into a thousand pieces. but he couldn’t show it. he couldn’t let hansol see how much this news was destroying him from the inside out. “i don’t want any further updates,” namjoon said, his voice cold and distant, a mask of indifference that he had perfected over the years. he couldn’t bear to hear any more, couldn’t bear to know the details of your life with daniel. it was too much, too painful to even think about.

hansol didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he took a deep breath, as if steeling himself for what he was about to say next. namjoon’s eyes flickered up to meet his, and he saw the hesitation, the reluctance in hansol’s gaze. “there’s more,” hansol said slowly, his voice tinged with something that made namjoon’s heart begin to race. “she’s pregnant.”

the words hung in the air, heavy and oppressive, and for a moment, Namjoon felt like the ground had been ripped out from beneath him. his mind went blank, the world around him fading into nothingness as the realization hit him like a tidal wave. pregnant.

it was a simple word, but it carried with it a weight that namjoon wasn’t sure he could bear. his breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding in his chest as he tried to process what hansol had just told him. pregnant. you were pregnant. with his brother’s child. but even as the thought crossed his mind, namjoon felt a deep, instinctual denial rise within him. he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that the child wasn’t daniel’s. it was his. he had always known, deep down, that you carried his child. but that knowledge brought no comfort, only a profound sense of despair.

he forced himself to remain silent, his expression giving nothing away even as his world crumbled around him. he had to hold it together, had to keep up the facade of indifference, no matter how much it tore him apart inside. “is there anything else?” he asked, his voice flat, devoid of any emotion. hansol’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if searching namjoon’s face for any sign of a reaction, but he found none. after a moment, he shook his head. “no, your highness. that’s all.”

namjoon nodded curtly, signaling that the conversation was over. hansol hesitated for a moment longer, as if he wanted to say something more, but when namjoon remained silent, he gave a small bow and left the room, closing the door behind him. the moment hansol was gone, namjoon let out a shaky breath, his composure finally crumbling as the full weight of what he had just heard settled over him. he clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he fought to keep the tears at bay. But it was no use. the pain was too much, the heartbreak too overwhelming.

he stood there, staring blankly at the map on his desk, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. he couldn’t stop thinking about you, about the child you carried. his child. and yet, he had no claim to either of you. he had lost you, lost everything, and now he was left with nothing but the hollow ache in his chest. despite his resolve to move on, to forget, namjoon couldn’t help but think of the days you had spent by the stream, waiting for him. he knew you had sent him letters, countless letters that remained unopened, sitting in a drawer in his chambers. he couldn’t bring himself to read them, couldn’t bring himself to face the reality of what he had lost. but every time he thought of you waiting for him by the stream, hope in your eyes, it tore him apart all over again. and then, there was the birth of your child.

namjoon heard the news through the palace gossip, the whispers of servants and courtiers that reached his ears despite his attempts to shut it all out. you had given birth to a baby girl, a beautiful little girl who, by all accounts, looked just like him. the thought of it made his heart ache in a way that was almost unbearable. he could picture her in his mind, a tiny, innocent child with his features, a child who would never know him as her father. it was a pain that cut deeper than anything he had ever known, a wound that would never heal.

and yet, despite everything, he couldn’t bring himself to see you. he couldn’t bring himself to open the letters, to go to the stream where you had waited for him, to acknowledge the life that was now a part of this world. it was easier to pretend that none of it existed, easier to bury the pain deep inside where no one could see it. but that didn’t stop the nights from being long and sleepless, didn’t stop the dreams that haunted him, the dreams of a life that could have been. a life where he was with you, where you were by his side, and where your daughter knew him as her father. a life that had been ripped away from him the moment he had let you go.

you held your newborn daughter in your arms, your heart full of a bittersweet love. she was perfect, with her tiny fingers and soft, downy hair, and when you looked into her eyes, you saw namjoon’s reflection staring back at you. it was a reminder of the love that had once burned so brightly between you, a love that had now faded into nothingness. but despite the pain, despite the heartache that lingered in your chest, you found solace in the presence of your daughter, in the way daniel held her with such care, his love for her as strong as if she were his own. he had taken on the role of her father without hesitation, without question, and for that, you were endlessly grateful.

yet, every time you looked at your daughter, every time you saw the way she smiled up at you with namjoon’s eyes, a part of you couldn’t help but wonder what might have been. what your life could have been like if things had been different. but you pushed those thoughts aside, focusing instead on the present, on the life you had now. it wasn’t the one you had dreamed of, but it was a life you could live with.

the days had become a blur of pain and exhaustion, your body growing weaker with each passing moment. the fever had set in shortly after the birth, your strength sapped as your body struggled to recover. you had given so much, poured everything you had into bringing namjoon’s child into the world, but now there was nothing left. the room around you seemed to swim in and out of focus, the walls closing in as the sickness took hold.

daniel stayed by your side, his presence a constant source of comfort even as the reality of your situation weighed heavily on him. he was the only one who truly understood, the only one who saw just how close to the edge you were. he watched you with a heart full of sorrow, his eyes tracing the pallor of your skin, the tremor in your hands. you were slipping away, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

as the last of the daylight faded from the sky, daniel stood at the foot of your bed, his gaze fixed on you as you lay there, so fragile and pale. he had promised to watch over you, to stay with you through whatever came, but the sight of you like this—so close to death—was almost more than he could bear. his heart ached with a pain he couldn’t put into words, a pain that only grew with each shallow breath you took. he turned away, unable to watch you suffer any longer, and as he did, the tears he had been holding back slipped from his eyes. how cruel was fate, to give him everything he had ever wanted—if only for a fleeting moment—only to snatch it away? he had loved you with every part of himself, had dreamed of a life where you and the child you had brought into the world would be his to cherish. but now, that dream was fading, slipping through his fingers like sand.

you knew the end was close, felt it in the way your body had begun to fail you, in the heaviness that weighed down your limbs, in the way each breath came a little harder than the last. the fever had taken its toll, and you were too weak to fight it any longer. you knew it would all soon be over, that the life you had known, the love you had shared, was slipping away. but there was one thing left to do.

with what little strength you had left, you forced yourself to sit up, your vision swimming as you did. every movement was agony, every breath a struggle, but you pushed through it, knowing that this would be your final act. your hands shook as you reached for the quill and parchment that sat on the table beside your bed, the ink blotting as you dipped the quill and began to write. it was a simple letter, the words coming slowly, each one a battle to put down on the page. but you wrote with a determination born of love, knowing that this was the last chance you would have to say what needed to be said. the words blurred in front of you as tears filled your eyes, but you pressed on, your hand trembling as you scrawled your final message.

when you were done, you could barely breathe, your chest tight with the effort it had taken to finish the letter. you called out weakly, your voice barely more than a whisper, and a guard appeared at the door, his face softening with sympathy as he took in the sight of you. you handed him the letter, your fingers trembling as you did. “please,” you whispered, your voice so weak it was almost inaudible. “make sure it’s delivered.”

the guard nodded, his expression full of pity as he took the letter from you. “of course, my lady,” he said softly, his voice tinged with sorrow. he knew, just as you did, that this would be the last letter you ever wrote.

with that final task complete, you felt a strange sense of peace settle over you. the weight of the world seemed to lift from your shoulders, the pain and the fear ebbing away, leaving only a profound sense of exhaustion. you knew the end was near, but you weren’t afraid. not anymore.

you managed to push yourself up from the bed, your body trembling with the effort, and made your way slowly to the door. daniel was sitting on the steps outside, his head in his hands, the weight of his grief pressing down on him. when he heard your footsteps, he looked up, his eyes widening in shock as he saw you standing there, so frail and weak, but still fighting. he rose to his feet as you approached, his heart breaking at the sight of you. he could see it in your eyes, the knowledge that the end was near, that there was nothing left to fight for. and yet, you had come to him, had found the strength to leave your bed, to be with him one last time.

you sank down beside him on the steps, your body sagging with exhaustion, and rested your head on his shoulder. he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close, his heart aching with a pain that was almost unbearable. he could feel how cold you were, how weak your breathing had become, and it took everything in him not to break down right then and there.

“are you really leaving me like this?” daniel asked, his voice choked with emotion as he leaned his head against the top of yours. he knew the answer, could see it in your eyes, but he needed to hear it, needed you to say it out loud, even if it would tear him apart. you couldn’t respond, your throat too tight with emotion, the tears that slipped from your eyes too painful to bear. you could only cry, the tears staining his fingers as he held you close, his heart breaking with every sob that wracked your frail body.

“will you forget me?” daniel’s voice broke as he asked the question, the words tinged with a desperation that cut you to the core. “when you’re gone, will you forget me?” you shook your head weakly, your voice barely more than a whisper as you answered, “i could never forget you. not even in my dreams, not even in death.”

the words were almost too much for him to bear, and he choked back a sob as he pressed his face into your hair, his tears soaking the strands. he had always known this day would come, had always known that the time he had with you would be fleeting, but that didn’t make it any easier. it didn’t make the pain any less. “i’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of your apology. “i’m so sorry. it’s too much. i can’t stay.”

your eyes were growing heavy, the world around you beginning to fade as the exhaustion took hold. you could feel the darkness creeping in, the edges of your vision blurring as you struggled to stay awake, to stay with him just a little longer. daniel felt the change in you, felt the way your body was growing limp against him, and he knew that the end was near. he had known it was coming, had seen it in your eyes, but now that it was here, now that he was about to lose you, the pain was almost too much to bear.

with trembling hands, he began to sing, his voice soft and broken as he sang the same song you had sung to him when baekhyun had died. it was a lullaby, a song of love and loss, of comfort in the face of unbearable pain. and as the words left his lips, he could feel you slipping away, your body growing heavier, your breathing more shallow. he had sent the firefly from that day, to your window, hoping you'd have sweet dreams. a final tear slipped from your eyes, trailing down your cheek as you let out one last breath. the world went black, the pain and the fear fading away as you sank into the darkness, your head resting on daniel’s lap as the life left your body.

daniel’s voice faltered as he felt you go, his heart breaking as he realized that you were gone. he cradled your lifeless body in his arms, the tears streaming down his face as he pressed his lips to your hair, his voice breaking as he whispered your name. but there was no response, no warmth left in your body, no breath left in your lungs. you were gone, and all that was left was the hollow ache of loss, the unbearable weight of grief that would stay with him for the rest of his life.

hansol walked the halls of the palace with a heaviness in his steps, each one dragging more than the last. his heart weighed down with a sorrow that he couldn't begin to express. his normally sharp and composed demeanor was nowhere to be seen, replaced instead by a broken expression that seemed to drain the color from his face. every breath felt like a struggle as he made his way to namjoon’s chambers, the words he would soon have to say churning in his gut like poison.

when he reached the door, he hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering above the wooden surface. he wasn’t sure how to begin, how to tell namjoon the news that would shatter his world. but there was no delaying it, no way to soften the blow. the truth had to be told. with a trembling hand, hansol pushed the door open and stepped inside. namjoon was sitting at his desk, his attention focused on some documents, the soft glow of candlelight casting long shadows across the room. the moment namjoon saw hansol’s face, he knew something was wrong.

“what is it now, hansol?” he asked, his voice edged with irritation, though there was an undercurrent of concern that he couldn't hide. he set down his quill, eyes narrowing as he took in the sight of hansol’s distraught expression.

hansol didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he walked slowly toward namjoon, his legs feeling like they might give out at any moment. when he was only a few paces away, he dropped to his knees, the sound of his knees hitting the floor echoing through the chamber. namjoon’s irritation evaporated in an instant, replaced by alarm. “hansol?” his voice was softer now, a hint of fear creeping in as he leaned forward, trying to see his face. “what’s the matter? what happened?”

it was then that hansol broke down, the tears he had been holding back finally spilling over as he knelt there, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. he couldn’t bring himself to speak, couldn’t bring himself to look up at namjoon as the weight of his grief overwhelmed him.

“hansol, speak to me,” namjoon’s voice rose in panic as he stood, moving toward his friend. “what’s going on? why are you crying?” hansol forced himself to look up, his tear-streaked face contorted with agony. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. he took a shuddering breath, trying to gather the strength to say what needed to be said.

“nabi’s gone,” he finally whispered, his voice broken. “she’s dead, namjoon.”

namjoon froze, the words not registering at first. he stared down at hansol, his mind reeling as he tried to comprehend what he had just heard. “what?” namjoon’s voice was barely a whisper, his eyes wide with disbelief. “that’s not possible. you’re lying.”

hansol shook his head, his tears falling freely now. “i’m not lying, namjoon. she’s gone. she died after giving birth. she was too weak, she couldn’t—she didn’t make it.”

namjoon’s world shattered in that moment. everything he had been living for, everything he had pushed aside, everything he had convinced himself he could endure—it all crumbled into dust. his chest tightened as if the air had been sucked out of the room, leaving him gasping, struggling to breathe. “why didn’t you tell me?” his voice was raw, his eyes wide with a mix of horror and anger. “why didn’t anyone tell me?”

hansol’s gaze fell to the floor, his voice filled with guilt. “she tried, namjoon. she wrote to you, every day—so many letters, but you never opened them.”

namjoon’s breath caught in his throat as he slowly turned his gaze to the stack of unopened letters on his desk. his heart raced, and his hands trembled as he reached out, touching the letters as if they were some fragile thing that might shatter beneath his fingers. he picked up the top letter, his name written in your familiar handwriting, and his vision blurred as tears welled up in his eyes. his hands shook as he held the letter, knowing that inside were words you had written, words you had meant for him—words he had never read.

he didn’t even bother to open it. the realization hit him like a ton of bricks, and he dropped the letter, pushing away from the desk as if it had burned him. panic gripped him, and without another word, he ran from the room, his mind racing. he didn’t stop as he tore through the halls of the palace, the walls blurring around him as he sprinted toward daniel’s house. his heart pounded in his chest, every beat echoing in his ears as he burst through the door, his voice hoarse with desperation.

“where is she?” namjoon called out, his eyes wild with panic as he looked around the empty room. “where is she? this isn’t funny! nabi, where are you?”

daniel appeared in the doorway, his face etched with sorrow as he watched namjoon’s frantic search. he knew this moment would come, knew that namjoon would finally learn the truth. but that didn’t make it any easier to see the man he once called his brother unravel before his eyes. “you’re too late,” daniel said softly, his voice heavy with grief. “she’s gone, namjoon. there’s nothing left.”

“no,” namjoon’s voice was a tortured cry as he turned on his brother, his fists clenched at his sides. “she can’t be gone. she’s here—i know she’s here. where is she?” daniel’s heart broke at the sight of his desperation, but he knew there was no other way to show him the truth. with a deep breath, he stepped aside, revealing the small urn on the table, filled with your ashes.

namjoon’s world came crashing down around him. the room seemed to tilt, the walls closing in as he stared at the vase, the reality of your death hitting him with the force of a tidal wave. he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t feel anything but the overwhelming grief that tore through him.

“no,” namjoon’s voice cracked as he staggered forward, his legs nearly giving out beneath him. he collapsed to his knees before the table, his hands trembling as he reached out, cradling the vase in his arms. “please, no.” he hugged the vase to his chest, his tears falling freely as he rocked back and forth, his heart shattering into a million pieces. he called out your name, his voice broken and desperate, as if somehow, by saying it enough times, he could bring you back.

but there was no response. there was only silence, the cold, empty silence that followed death, and namjoon felt as if the very life had been drained from him. he had lost you—he had lost everything. as he wept, the sound of small footsteps echoed through the room. a little girl, no more than a few months old, toddled into the living room, her eyes wide with curiosity. she looked up at namjoon, her innocent face a mirror of his own, and in that moment, he knew. she looked just like him.

“where’s mommy?” the little girl asked, her voice soft and full of innocence as she stared up at namjoon with wide eyes. his breath caught in his throat, the sight of the child twisting the knife of grief even deeper. he couldn’t speak, couldn’t find the words to explain that you were gone, that you would never come back. all he could do was stare at her, his heart breaking all over again.

“she’s sick,” namjoon finally choked out, his voice barely more than a whisper as he looked at the little girl, tears streaming down his face. the little girl didn’t understand. she didn’t know what death was, didn’t know what it meant for someone to be gone forever. all she knew was that her mother wasn’t there, and she wanted to find her.

namjoon couldn’t bear it. the grief, the guilt, the regret—it all became too much. he stood up shakily, still clutching the vase of ashes, and stumbled toward the door. he couldn’t stay there, couldn’t face the reality of what had happened. daniel watched him go, his own heart breaking at the sight of namjoon’s devastation. he knew there was nothing he could do to ease the pain, nothing he could say to make it better. all he could do was watch as namjoon was escorted back to the palace by his own guards, his body wracked with sobs that wouldn’t stop.

namjoon couldn’t stop crying, couldn’t stop the tears from falling as he was led away. the weight of your death, the knowledge that he had lost you forever, was more than he could bear. he had lost you, lost the woman he loved, and all he had left was a daughter who would never know her father. and as he walked through the gates of the palace, the walls closing in around him, namjoon knew that he would never be the same. the grief would stay with him, haunting him for the rest of his days, a reminder of what he had lost, of the love he had let slip through his fingers.

the palace walls seemed to close in on namjoon as he sat at his desk, the unopened letters scattered around him like the remnants of a shattered life. the room, once a sanctuary of order and purpose, now felt like a prison, every shadow a reminder of his failures, every flickering candle a ghost of the past. the urn of your ashes rested beside him, a constant, suffocating reminder of the life he had lost—the life he had thrown away.

his trembling hands reached for the first letter, the paper crinkling slightly as he unfolded it. he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think as he stared down at your familiar handwriting, the words blurring as tears filled his eyes. he had ignored these letters for so long, had turned his back on you when you needed him most, and now, it was too late. the weight of his guilt pressed down on him, making it almost impossible to read, but he forced himself to go on.

“my dearest namjoon,” the letter began, and his breath caught in his throat, a sob choking its way up as he read the words. he could read every word in your voice, as if you were still there, reading them to him. “i went to the stream again today, hoping that maybe this time, you would come. but you didn’t. you never do.”

each word cut through him like a knife, the pain of it almost unbearable. he could picture you there, waiting for him by the stream, your heart breaking a little more each day as he failed to show. the image of you standing there alone, waiting for a man who would never come, tore at his soul. his chest tightened, the sobs bubbling up from deep within, uncontrollable, unstoppable.

“i don’t know why i keep going,” the letter continued, the ink slightly smudged as if you had cried while writing it. “i suppose i keep hoping that one day, you’ll remember me, that you’ll remember what we had and come back to me. but i’m starting to lose hope, namjoon. i’m starting to think that maybe you’ve already forgotten me.”

namjoon’s heart broke anew with each word, his tears falling onto the paper, blurring the ink further. he couldn’t bear it, couldn’t stand the thought that you had believed he had forgotten you, when in truth, you had never left his mind. he had tried to push you away, tried to convince himself that he didn’t need you, that he was better off without you—but it had all been a lie. and now, it was too late to tell you the truth. he picked up the next letter, his hands shaking so badly that he nearly dropped it. his sobs grew louder as he read, your words searing into his mind, leaving scars that would never heal.

“today was the hardest day yet,” you had written, the sadness in your words palpable. “i waited for hours by the stream, but you never came. i don’t know why i keep torturing myself like this, why i keep hoping for something that will never happen. but i can’t help it, your majesty. i can’t help but love you.”

the sobs wracked his body, his chest heaving with the force of his grief. he had done this to you—he had made you wait, made you suffer, and for what? for a throne that felt meaningless now, for power that had brought him nothing but pain. he had been a fool, blinded by ambition, and now, he was paying the price. letter after letter, he read about your heartbreak, your loneliness, your unending love for him despite everything. with each word, the guilt crushed him further, the tears flowing freely down his face, soaking the pages. he couldn’t stop reading, couldn’t stop the agony that tore through him as he realized just how deeply he had hurt you.

finally, he reached the last letter, the one dated for today. his hands shook violently as he unfolded it, his breath hitching in his throat. he didn’t want to read it—he couldn’t bear to—but he had to. It was the last thing you had ever written to him, and he owed you that much.

“if you are reading this, i am dead.”

the words hit him like a sledgehammer, and he let out a strangled cry, his vision going black at the edges as the reality of your death crashed over him. his hands clutched the paper so tightly that it crumpled beneath his fingers, but he couldn’t stop, couldn’t tear his eyes away from the words you had left behind.

“is that what it takes to get you to read my letters? i was weak, i was the opposite of you. you were strong enough to walk away, to claim the throne. was it everything you've ever wanted? was it not enough, claiming my heart? i worry that i left you with hatred, instead of love.”

namjoon shook his head, the sobs ripping through him with a force that made his entire body shake. he hadn’t walked away because he was strong—he had walked away because he was a coward. he had been too afraid to face his feelings, too afraid to admit that he couldn’t live without you. and now, he would never get the chance to tell you that.

“i still love you. how could i ever forget you? hansol knows it, my husband knows it—everybody knows it, except you.”

the guilt was suffocating, the weight of his own blindness crushing him beneath it. you had loved him, despite everything, despite the pain he had caused you, and he had been too blind to see it. he had been so focused on his own ambitions, his own desires, that he had lost the one thing that truly mattered.

“i've learned that the opposite of loving isn't hating, but leaving. why do i wait by the stream, when i know you won't be there? why do I curse the stars for this fate, when it's the moon we are under? why do i love you, when it's you who has left me?”

namjoon could barely see the words through his tears, the paper blurring as his sobs grew louder, more desperate. he had left you—he had left you all alone to bear the burden of his absence, and now, he would have to live with that knowledge for the rest of his life. the realization cut deeper than any blade, the pain of it almost unbearable.

“and now, i have to leave you. i have to leave you with the burden of having loved me.”

the sobs that tore through him were unlike anything he had ever experienced before, a raw, primal pain that echoed through the empty room. he cried your name, over and over, as if somehow, by saying it enough times, he could bring you back. but there was no response, no comfort to be found in the cold, empty air. the world around him fell away, leaving only the agony of your loss, the regret that would haunt him for the rest of his days. he had lost you—lost the one person who had ever truly loved him—and now, he was left with nothing but the ashes of what could have been.

he clutched the letter to his chest, his sobs filling the room as he rocked back and forth, the grief consuming him, tearing him apart piece by piece. he had lost you, and now, he would have to live with that pain, that regret, for the rest of his life. and as he cried, as he mourned the life he had thrown away, the only comfort he could find was the knowledge that, no matter what, you would always be nearby, under the moon.

you woke up with a start, your heart pounding against your ribcage as if trying to escape. the familiar sound of chatter and the hum of fluorescent lights overhead brought you back to reality—or what you thought was reality. you were back at work, standing behind the counter of your cosmetics shop in the bustling mall. the air was filled with the scent of lavender and rosewater, the carefully curated aroma of your traditionally made products. your hands moved automatically, arranging the small glass jars and wooden containers, but your mind was elsewhere, still trapped in the vivid memories of a life that felt too real to be a dream.

it was all too clear in your mind—the palace, the sweeping hanboks, the chilling touch of power and betrayal. you could still feel the weight of the crown on namjoon’s head, the sadness in daniel’s eyes, the coldness of the floor as you lay dying in his arms. the memories were so vivid, so heartbreakingly real, that it was hard to believe they weren’t your reality. you looked around the shop, expecting to see the grandeur of the royal palace, the opulence of a bygone era. but all you saw were customers milling about, people asking questions about the products, children tugging at their parents’ sleeves. there was no daniel, no namjoon, just the mundane, everyday life you had always known—or thought you had known.

“excuse me, do you know who the fourth king was?” a woman’s voice broke through your thoughts, pulling you back to the present. she stood across the counter, examining a jar of cream with a polite curiosity, her eyes waiting expectantly for your answer.

you blinked, her question echoing in your mind as the memories surged forward, relentless. the name that came to your lips was not just a fact from history but a name that carried the weight of love, betrayal, and loss. your eyes widened, filling with unshed tears as the name slipped out, barely above a whisper. “gwangjong, kim namjoon.” the woman’s brows furrowed in concern, her voice softening. “are you okay?” but you couldn’t answer, couldn’t stay there any longer.

the walls of the mall felt like they were closing in on you, the faces around you blurring into one indistinguishable mass. you mumbled an apology, your voice trembling as you excused yourself, the jar of cream left abandoned on the counter. you stumbled out from behind the counter, your feet carrying you down the endless rows of displays, each step growing heavier as you tried to make sense of what was happening.

was it all a dream? a cruel trick played by your subconscious? or was it something more, something you couldn’t quite grasp? you ran a hand through your hair, your fingers trembling as they brushed against your scalp. you could still feel the coldness of namjoon’s touch, the warmth of his embrace, the pain that had clawed at your heart as you left him behind. the world around you spun, the bustling mall fading into the background as your mind struggled to reconcile the two realities. and then you saw it.

the sign loomed above you, its letters bold and unyielding: “songak art display.” your breath hitched, your heart skipping a beat as you stared at the sign, disbelief washing over you in waves. your feet moved on their own, carrying you inside as if drawn by an invisible force, by something deep within you that needed answers, that needed closure. the gallery was quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos of the mall outside. the walls were lined with paintings, each one a window into a world long gone, yet eerily familiar. your eyes roamed over the art, your heart thudding painfully in your chest as you searched for something—anything—that could explain what was happening to you. and then you found it.

a painting, large and imposing, hung in the center of the room, its colors dark and foreboding. the scene was one you knew all too well, one that had haunted your dreams and your waking hours alike. the execution of baekhyun, captured in painful detail. his eyes, wide with fear and regret, his hands bound, his body broken. the crowd surrounding him, their faces twisted in a mixture of sorrow and anger. you remembered it all—remembered the blood, the tears, the sound of the blade as it descended, cutting through the air with a finality that still echoed in your soul.

you stumbled back, your hand flying to your mouth as a sob tore its way out of your throat. it wasn’t just a painting—it was a memory, a fragment of a life that you had lived, that you had lost. you turned, your eyes scanning the gallery in a frantic search for something familiar, for something that could anchor you in this madness. and there they were.

king taejo and queen jiyoung, their regal figures immortalized in paint, their expressions as stern and unwavering as you remembered. you could almost hear their voices, the weight of their authority pressing down on you, demanding loyalty, demanding sacrifice. your legs gave out, and you sank to your knees in front of the paintings, the tears streaming down your face as you sobbed, apologizing to nobody and nothing, the grief and guilt tearing through you like a storm. and then you saw him.

his face, so familiar, so heartbreakingly familiar, stared back at you from the canvas. kim namjoon, the fourth king, gwangjong. the man who had sacrificed everything for his brothers, who had grown up as a wolf and learned to be human. the man who had claimed your heart, only to break it. the plaque beneath the painting confirmed it, the words blurring through your tears as you read them. “kim namjoon, fourth king gwangjong. sacrificed everything for his brothers. grew up as a wolf, learned to be human. purge.”

you stared into his painted eyes, your heart breaking all over again as you whispered his name, the apology spilling from your lips as if he could hear you, as if he could somehow forgive you. “i'm so sorry,” you managed through your tears. “i'm so sorry for leaving you.” the world around you disappeared, leaving only you and the man you had loved, the man you had lost. the sobs wracked your body, your tears soaking the floor as you clung to the memory of him, to the memory of what you had shared, what you had lost. and then, a gentle tap on your shoulder brought you back to the present, pulling you out of the past that had consumed you.

you turned, your vision still blurred with tears, to see a man standing before you, his expression concerned, his hand outstretched with a tissue. for a moment, you didn’t recognize him, didn’t see past the veil of your grief. your breath caught in your throat, your heart skipping a beat as you stared at him, the world narrowing down to just the two of you.

you didn't recognize him. perhaps, not at first. not until you saw the scar. right across his eye.

✧.*

a/n: stop i lowkey cried LOL i didn't use the aired ending of scarlet heart tho bc i'm not a sociopath?

“ballads are boring,” so close! ur favs cant sing! try stanning shinee instead