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gwoongi · 5 years

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𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗎𝗌 ✰ taehyung (8)

𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗎𝗌 kim taehyung / reader genre: zombie apocalypse au words: 6106

a/n: spot the merlot murders easter egg :D

warnings: dirty sex, hyper realistic sex, body hair, impreg kink, face riding, the L word, violence, death, gore, graphic imagery, unprotected sex, its a zombie apocalypse ok its ok to be dirty

01. denver ↝ 02. holiday with me ↝ 03. sad forever ↝ 04. surely ↝ 05. scorpion ↝ 06. shakespeare ↝ 07. thrones ↝ 08. moon motel ↝ 09. zombies

Namjoon remembers the day that the news came to California, that the outbreak had gotten worse. Like most, he knew of the war; he knew of Jongun’s scheme to betray South Korea after an alliance that turned to shambles, and he was no fool to the media that went against all laws to stream illegal footage of nuclear sites in Russia, in America, in England, in countries that nobody knew were developing nuclear weapons. After the first North Korean bomb hit in America, and after Namjoon had urgently booked a flight to visit Kyungmin at UCLA, he didn’t think it could get much worse.

Like most idiots who didn’t take the urgent evacuation broadcasts seriously, Namjoon realised how dangerous it was to be in the cities when the military opened up the quarantine zone in the northern section of LA. Small explosives went off, bursting holes through the concrete walls, allowing a tide of infected zombies to surge into the streets.

Namjoon and Kyungmin had been on campus at that time, hauled up in a Lecture Hall used for business majors. It had been just them, with a couple other students who couldn’t afford to make it out in time, with the lights out and the food from the cafeteria in blankets, the whiteboard playing the news right up until the stations shut down to conserve power. The explosions rippled the Earth, shaking the entire Lecture Hall to the point where Kyungmin woke up, rubbing her eyes and searching the hall for her brother. Namjoon and another exchange student called Xell, from Japan, pushed up to the ashy windows and peered outside, seeing the chimney of smoke across the city. Xell muttered something in Japanese, calling out to another group on the front row.

“Okay, Kyungmin, time to go,” Namjoon breathlessly said, stuffing a pistol into her hand. She recoiled for a moment, a strangled noise of surprise slipping out of her mouth, “Okay, honey, you know how to use this, right?”

“Are you serious? Of course I don’t!”

Namjoon brushed it off. “Alright, it’s a semi-auto. You know what that means? Means you gotta load a round into the chamber before shooting. Face it downwards, yeah, pull back the slide, then release it.”

Kyungmin hands shook as he spoke. “Joonie, please-”

“We need to fucking get out of here as fast as we can,” Namjoon continued. Whenever Namjoon got nervous, he had a habit of swearing when it was unnecessary. Over the years, Kyungmin had just learnt to get used to it, especially since everybody in her family besides herself had the exact same habit. Maybe she was adopted, she thought briefly, before being pulled back in by Namjoon’s words. “Okay, yeah, okay? Stay close to me, do not let go of my belt, okay, honey? I know, this is scary, and I’m not making sense, but trust me, something bad is going to happen and we can’t be here when it happens. You get me?”

Kyungmin looked towards the front of the hall, “and what about the others?”

“I can’t save them all, Min.”

“But we might be able to,” she reasoned, tugging at his hand. “Please, Joonie.”

Namjoon hesitated, as if he considered it. And then, outside the window, a series of howls and growls rang through the vents and he shook his head, a look of agitation spreading across his face. “No. Kyungmin, I’m sorry, I love you, but we can’t, I gotta keep you safe, okay baby? Yeah?”

“Everybody makes tough calls, I get that, but we can save them,” Kyungmin ranted, confused and scared, emotional, empathetic. “They’re my friends, Namjoon, I can’t just leave them-”

“We are gonna die if we stay here, Kyungmin!”

Namjoon never raised his voice. In response, his sister froze, the gun halting in shivers.

“And I am not being held accountable for your death,” he continued, shaking his head with every word, his hands smoothing back her hair that was by now, greasy and thick. “Please, Kyungmin. Please.”

Namjoon doesn’t remember the entire scenario, but he remembers escaping the hall moments before the windows fell through, splintering the students left inside, and bodies with peeling skin and bloody blisters became crawling through the open spaces, their teeth rotten and sharp, fingernails like talons.

UCLA was worse; smoke engulfed the outdoor campus, with dust in the air and debris on the pavement, a bike upside down with blood and an arm poking out from underneath a fallen side of the building. The wheel moved in the wind. This had happened recently.

Taking hostage of a black Peugeot, Namjoon and Kyungmin barely escaped the embrace of death, driving crazily through the scenes of that end-of-the-world movie, where buildings collapsed and fires spread in each apartment, bodies falling like leaves from a tree to the concrete with sickening thuds and explosive red bursts. In the sky, Kyungmin could see the distinct colours of a military helicopter, the side doors open, a zombie hanging from the legs, and another being tossed out of the side and down onto the floor. It landed with a human thud straight ahead in the road, and three seconds later, pulled itself up to a standing position and stared at the front window of the stolen Peugeot.

People were running, screaming, covered in flames or blood or dirty hands and rotten mouths, crashes and bangs and explosions bursting Kyungmin’s eardrums as she flinched, watching a nearby gas station burst into ember. At this point, she didn’t know if the screams were human or not.

“What the fuck is this?” Kyungmin asked frantically, cradling her ears as blood dripped from her left eardrum. “This is seriously some sort of fucked up Train to Busan shit.”

“It’s the fucking military,” Namjoon cursed, veering to the right sharply to avoid a mother cradling a baby. He stepped on the breaks just as sharp, looking back to the mother and shouting for Kyungmin to open the back door. As she turned to do so, the mother fell with a breath of wheezy air to the floor, stains of red jumping to the window. Namjoon blinked, and hit the gas.

The military had betrayed them- they weren’t protecting them at all. No, no, no; the military were setting them up. They were letting the issue get too wild, and then they released it to the public, letting innocent people die, throwing bombs onto the cities. On the radio that seemed to still be in signal, Namjoon realised California was a hell of a lot safer than the likes of Houston, which apparently, “just saw thousands of casualties after a Napalm bomb, the same model used in Vietnam in the 60’s and 70’s.” Yeah, Namjoon was fucking lucky that he was in California, although, things seemed to be just as bad here as it would be anywhere.

It felt like a scene from the movie 2012, where the Earth opened up and underground trains fell and crashed into giant ravines pulled out of nothing, and multi storey car-parks gave way and cars drove themselves off cliffs. Only, it was much more preserved, with the same amount of panic, and with every dead person jumping back up sixteen seconds later to complete the cycle. As he drove, further towards the trees, all he could see was fire, burning everything and everyone, the wildlife jumping from the burning safety of their homes covered in flames, the baby deer running ahead as their mother rolled over, putting out the flames, following her family further into the city where Kyungmin saw, through the mirror, that the zombies avoided them.

For some reason, Namjoon thought of all this when Taehyung pulled up at a motel in a secular part of the journey-to-wherever-, located in a circle of dead trees, the moon logo no longer working. The Moon Motel, in all its glory. Namjoon hopped out of the van when it stopped rolling, feeling unusually weird. Maybe it was the memory of California. Maybe it was the fact that nothing he wanted to happen was happening. Or, maybe it was simply because he was starving, and tired, and disgustingly dirty.

“Hey, I’ve read about this place.”

Hoisting his backpack higher up over his shoulder, Taehyung moved to look at Kyungmin as she jumped out of the back of the van, drawing closer to the motel, “Yeah?”

“Mm. A journalist said that it used to be in a chain of motels, spaced across the globe,” she continued, following Taehyung towards the building with her hands in her back pockets. “Apparently, some rich fancy poly couple owned it after the previous owners died.”

“Oh. That’s sad.”

“Yeah, the article said that the poly couple, the new owners, were vampires.” She laughed gently, tossing her jaw upwards to inhale the oily smell in the air. “Imagine that.”

Taehyung was about to make a comment about how vampires weren’t real, but then he remembered that he lived in a world where dead people came back to life to eat everybody. Suddenly, the idea of vampires didn’t seem so impossible after-all.

And like everywhere else in the apocalypse, the Moon Motel had seen better days. The front door was busted, mostly covered in mossy mould and turning yellow around the handle. The interior was mostly stable, smelling stale and wet, with the golden couches and a brown suede suite that Namjoon sat down on with a hefty sigh, thankful to sit somewhere that wasn’t the van.

“I doubt there’s much here,” he said tiredly, waving in the direction of the kitchens. “I take it rooms are somewhere out back.” He yawned, “knock yourselves out…”

Kyungmin hummed quietly, finally overcoming the car sickness. “One of us should keep watch. I noticed a ladder to the roof. I’ll stay up there for a few hours ‘til one of you’s comes up to switch. That okay?”

“Yeah, sure thing,” Taehyung nodded. Before leaving for the back bedrooms, Taehyung called Kyungmin’s name and tossed her a revolver, the bullets clinking as she caught it in her hands. “Just in-case,” he added with a friendly smile, and she nodded, dipping her head to look at her feet as she hurried past the two of you. She shut the door firmly behind her. Namjoon lay, passed out, on the brown couch and Taehyung threw you a look over his shoulder, nodding in the direction of the rooms. “Sleepover?”

The bedrooms were in a satisfactory condition. Although not as chic or glam as they could have been before the world began to end, it looked expensive, with golden interior and a chandelier with no accessories, and burnt candles with wax leaking down off the shelf, like icicles. The bed, an egg shape on top of a platform that crumbled, lay untouched, the sheets still messy as if someone had only just clambered out of them.

“This is nice,” Taehyung commented off-handedly, dumping his bag by the door. “Never been to fancy places like this before.”

You shook your head, “Me neither. I could never afford to leave Denver.”

“Oh, yeah?” he asked. Despite being distracted by checking the room was secure, his tone was laced with sincerity, with interest, a genuine interest nobody had ever really shown you before. “How come?”

“Family trouble,” you replied truthfully. “Kind of a long story.”

“We’ve got time,” he assured.

“Not now,” you answered, shrugging off Taehyung’s jacket, setting it on top of the vanity with a quick inhale. The room smelt used, with the faint aroma of nicotine and a vanilla perfume, the wet smell of armpits. Taehyung shrugged in reply, not really in any position to demand a backstory.

A few moments later, after you sat down on top of surprisingly intact silk bed sheets, Taehyung poked his head out of the bathroom with a smile- “hey, the loo works in here!”

“Woah,” you replied. “Really?”

“Yeah!” Taehyung confirmed. He laughed, finding it funny that he was sharing an excitement with someone over the primitive use of a toilet. “Maybe now I can take a shit without feeling like people are watching me.”

Laughing, you watched as Taehyung stepped across the room, joining you on the egg bed. “Truthfully, how long’s it been since you actually took a shit?”

“I don’t even know,” he muttered. He moved to lay back on the sheets, his arm that had slung around your waist bringing you down to join him, like two little sardines in a tin. “This feels so good.”

You hummed in reply, curling to stuff your face in the crook of his armpit.

You lay like that for a while, feeling so utterly safe and relaxed and calm and quiet, until Taehyung wriggled on the bed and sat upright, a frown tugging on his lips.

Glancing at him, you rolled over onto your back. “Everything okay?”

He inhaled a breath. “Y/N, I was so afraid of losing you today.”

Oh. You hadn’t been expecting that, at all. Pushing yourself up onto your elbows, you stared at Taehyung with a confused expression. “Huh? Where’s this coming from?”

“It’s been on my mind for ages, and I said so in the barn that I didn’t wanna lose you, I said it in the trailer park, and I’m saying it again now- no, don’t interrupt, please, just let me get it all out.” He sighed, continuing: “Y/N, I think the world of you. I just feel so protective of you and there’s this weird thing in my head that makes me act funny whenever something revolves around you. It’s not fucking love- no, it’s not love, but, it hurts. Thinking about losing you fucking hurts my head. And, that- that thing today, the thing we saw, that’s what I’m afraid of. Not afraid of walkers coming for us, no, you’re strong, you can take them. But, God, I’m so afraid of someone hurting you, someone intelligent with a gun that doesn’t miss a target, from someone who is aware that they’re causing pain. Y/N, I don’t even know what I’m saying or why I’m saying it but I adore you so much. Sometimes, I forget there was even a time where it wasn’t just me and you. You know what? Fuck- it might be love. How long has it been? You don’t have to know someone ages to love them.”

“Taehyung, I-”

“And,” he rasped, his hands quivering. He didn’t even feel you reach to hold them, “today was so scary because I didn’t want to lose you or anybody else in the van and I need to get this off my chest because it’s killing me and every day we face a new threat and danger, and fuck, if I die tomorrow, I don’t wanna die knowing I never told you that I cared about you. God, I’m so thankful to be here with you right now. I don’t have anything else left.”

“Hey, Tae, please-”

“No matter what,” by now, Taehyung was close to tears, choking on his own words, “you keep finding something to fight for. I have nothing else to lose- you’re the only thing keeping me on this Earth right now, Y/N. You’re the only thing I have left. With you, I feel invincible. Y/N- I love you so much, you know that?” He paused, sniffing, cradling your face with his hands. Taehyung lifted it up to meet his gaze, his thumb brushing away a tear that hung down your face, “Yeah? You know that, right baby?”

He felt a nod against his hands, “Mm. I know.”

“You mean the world to me,” Taehyung whispered. He couldn’t fucking see- God, he was crying, like a little baby, choking on his own salty tears. “‘m gonna fight to get you somewhere safe, okay? I swear, baby, I’ll kill every damned biter on this Earth, just as long as you’re safe.”

Taehyung had moved significantly closer to you throughout his talking, his knees touching your own, the hotness of his breath on your cheek. He visibly jerked when you laughed quietly, your mouth against the palm of his hand. A gentle kiss, and then, “you said biter instead of walker.”

He laughed, too. “Hey, I just...I just said all of that, and that’s what you have to say?”

You joined in his laughter, the sound filling the room like a vinyl. Taehyung then bundled you in his arms, collecting you, picking you up off the sheets and onto his thighs, his nose brushing against your own. He felt his eyes go cross eyed, taking in all of your features up-close for one of the first times ever. He’d never noticed the small mole in your cupid's bow, or the little cut that over time had scarred into a fossil white, just below your left eye. Oh, how much he loved the little things, the flaws that would have once made a difference in an Instagram following, flaws that would have defined you, that do now but in a completely different way. He held in a breath, without realising, questioning how he went so long without saying something, without having a moment of realisation that you are his everything.

As a silence fell across the room, Taehyung smoothed his hands up your arms, exploring the skin, until they came to cup your head, as if it were a delicate doll that required careful handling. Like an open book, you read his face, noticing how his eyes appeared softer, a quirk in the corner of his lips bringing his mouth upwards to a smile, his eyes unusually glassy. He stroked your hair gently, his bottom lip curling upwards and then, it became apparent that he was trying not to cry.

Taehyung brought your face closer, his nose nudging against yours, his eyes closed and eyelids stuck together with tears. He opened his mouth, as if debating to speak, but stopped, opening his eyes to stare at the way you bashfully shrank in his hands. He moved closer, his lips brushing against yours, and his brows knitted together when you moved away, your fingers curling around his wrists with a childish whine that he apparently liked.

“What?” he murmured quietly. His eyes glanced upwards: “Ah, shit. Is this too much-? I can stop, we can stop, I’m sorry, ‘m sorry-”

“No, it’s just-” you began, cutting off with a tight laughter. Taehyung retracted, staring at you with an uncomfortably anxious expression.

“I,” he started, shaking his head gently, “I thought we were on the same page.”

All at once, you tightly held onto his hands with a firm shake of your head. “We are, Tae, it’s just- fuck. I’m ugly. And my skin is dirty and my hair is greasy and God knows what my legs and armpits look like right now. I look so...conventionally unattractive.” You scoffed, “Everything I hated about myself before all this started is back and I just- I don’t know how you can like me.”

As expected, Taehyung didn’t say anything for a few moments. He sat, silently, staring at your face, and you watched his eyes flit from various spaces. From your eyes, to the middle of your brows, to the dirt on your cheek, to your sunken cheekbones, to the acne scarring that had faded over time on the apple of your right cheek, the On Its Way Out pimple on your chin and the chapped skin of your lips. For a moment, you thought he might not answer at all, that he might sit up and back away, sleeping in the room next door. Or worse, he could laugh, criticise each flaw that made you feel ugly, revert back to the old norm of society where body hair was seen as illegal on women, and acne was gross and dry skin was dirty and a tiny bit of monobrow hair was unlady-like.

Taehyung’s mouth made a noise, the noise of lifting your tongue up and down, the sound of chewing a banana until it was mush. “But, baby...it’s natural.”

He laughed gently, “Everything about you is natural. D’you think I expect to find a Brazilian wax down there? Babe, we’re in the middle of a fucking zombie apocalypse. I don’t care about any of that, none of that even matters anymore. Neither of us have washed our hair in like, well, forever, you think I care about it?” Taehyung reheld your head, “You hear me, yeah? I love you.”

There was no necessary reply; with a mutter of, “I love you so much”, Taehyung didn’t think he really needed anything more.

He wasted no time in bringing your face towards his, his fingers on your chin and jaw, guiding you closer, wrapping you snug to his torso as if skin to skin wasn’t close enough. Each kiss was different, more passionate and wild and sensual and everything in between, his hands palming at your skin, pawing your lower body like an impatient kitten wanting milk.

“Have you done this before?” he muttered, his arms around you as you shakily brought your trousers down your thighs. With one arm, he held your waist and with the other, he wrapped it around to help you wriggle out of your clothes, bunching them up in his fist and tossing them away from the bed.

“Yes,” you replied in an equally soft tone, speaking through pouty lips. “Many times.”

Taehyung made a noise of approval. “Oh? This makes things more interesting.”

“It does?” you asked, shifting in his lap. He groaned quietly, his hands jumping to your middle. “You say it as if you’ve never done this before.”

He shrugged slightly. “Was a long time ago. With someone I didn’t really like that much.” A hand on his crotch. “Fuck- was a one time thing. Haven’t done it since.”

“Oh? This makes things very interesting, indeed.”

“Now you’re just mocking me.”

He smiled when you let out a giggle. “Smart boy.”

Taehyung hummed, a sort of reply, and wrapped his hands back around the back of your head, his fingers pulling you forward to meet his lips in a hard kiss. The force was sharp, splitting your lip on the inside, but the pain was pleasure.

It was clearly apparent that he knew what he was doing- his grip was experienced, and it left you breathless. Taehyung- at some point- lifted himself up to shimmy free from his jeans. The bulge in his pants did not go unnoticed, and neither did the breathless moan that left your lips when his erection sprang free, a salute like a soldier.

Taehyung hissed in a breath at the feeling of your hand wrapping around his stiffness, his eyes closing. On top, you muttered something he missed entirely, too focused on the feeling of your palm cupping his dick and balls. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, the words stuck in a clump in the middle of his throat, his fingers quivering like thighs after an orgasm. He moved, slightly. You moved too, with him, to squat over his thighs.

“Na-need lube,” he sighed shakily, his hands nonetheless prodding at your inner thighs. He hooked a finger underneath your underwear, his fingers basically already touching your genitals. “These gotta come off too.”

“You think I’m just carrying round lube with me?” you replied with a frown. Moving off his thighs, you shimmied further down, your face downcast. “I’ll just spit.”

“‘snot enough.”

“It’ll have to do.”

Grunt. “You got a condom?”

“No, but I’ve got faith in the fact you’ll pull out.”

“Pulling out’s not protection.”

You sighed with exasperation. “Well, let’s hope for the best. It’s this or nothing, babe.”

Babe. He writhed. “Whatever. I’m ready to be a Dad.”

With his help, and by help, it meant Taehyung didn’t remove his hooked finger as you pulled down your panties. At the sight of Taehyung now somewhat level with your pussy, you felt self-conscious. Insecure and ugly. After a dragged out moment of simply staring, he softly cursed, a gentle, “fuck”, and he curiously curled a finger between your folds, mindful of the tame hair, unbothered.

“Yeah, well,” you groaned, head back between your shoulder-blades, “if we’re still knocking around by the time this is all over, I’ll let you be the Dad of my kids.”

“Mm, yeah?” Taehyung hummed, oddly vacant. His eyes were glazed, lost looking. “Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Me filling you up? Putting a kid in you?”

“Mhmpf!”

“Imagine our kids,” he huffed, three fingers up there. You whined as two scissored. “God, I want you. Wanna fill you up with my cum, put a baby in you. I want a life with you.”

“What? Like we aren’t having a life right now?”

He removed his fingers, a coating of juice and white covering his fingers, drooling like wax on a candle. “Nah, this ain’t life. We’re living, sure, but this ain’t a life. ‘M gonna get you out, I promise. Gonna go somewhere safe.”

He doesn’t say anything else after that, except the occasional fuck or shit, or intake of breath. Taehyung thought to himself, with the nape of his neck resting on the low headboard of the premium suite bed, watching you settle over his crotch with a look of need, want, and love, that if this were happening three years ago, he’d have taken his time. He would have gone to lengths to take you on dates, to visit the bowling alley that his friend Nate back at Uni worked at part-time, or to the diner owned by a chain that started in Chicago. For sure, he would have prepared lube and condoms, and flowers in a glass rose, twenty candles or something, rose petals in the bathtub for after, meringue in the freezer and Ultraviolence on the vinyl.

But now, in a world where losing someone has the same probability of seeing someone on the street outside your house, Taehyung couldn’t care less about taking his time. This time tomorrow, he could be dead. He won’t be, but he could be.

That’s what he told himself as he watched you take his cock with one hand, too small for his girth, and groaned with his fist wrapped around your hair as your mouth wrapped around his length. He told himself again when you settled down on his middle, sitting on his cock, one hand on his tummy and the other back on his thigh, the cowgirl on a horse, facing him instead of away. And again when he straightened up off the headboard, wrapping his arms around your body, one hand on your lower back and the other running along your wrist raised in the air like silk on skin, and again when you rolled forward in a wave to kiss him, to kiss him like you’d never kissed anybody before.

And God, it was some kiss. It was the kind of kiss a lover gave to their other half when they came back from the army, the kind of kiss where you’re physically afraid of moving away in-case they disappear. Taehyung had never, ever felt so loved, so wanted, so content with somebody in his entire life, and there was a margin of possibility that this could be the last time he ever kissed somebody, or held somebody. In any case, it was the first and last time he’d ever tell someone he loved them.

For some reason, he laughed as you sank down on him, a breathy giggle against the curve of your neck. You rested your hands on his shoulders, stabling yourself, and you peered down at him with a smile: “Enjoying yourself?”

He nodded with a small laugh. “Fuck yeah. Wish I had my phone, would have recorded this so I could watch it over again.”

“You’re into that?”

“I can be.”

“Dirty boy,” you said.

Taehyung lifted his hips to meet your thrusting, a shaky whimper making him grin. “I don’t wanna forget this moment.”

“Who says you’ll forget?”

He groaned at that. You moved faster, sinking up and down, skin sweaty and shining, your hips rocking forward and a shy hand between your breasts.

It’s nothing special, if Taehyung compared it to stuff before the outbreak. He’s a lad- he’s watched porn, he knew how things went if you had enough time, and lights, and patience. But, to Taehyung, this was bliss. Having a moment of intimacy with you was something his heart swelled with joy at, and his hold around your body tightened with every tight thrust, every slowing rise and fall, right up until the pivotal moment of release. Taehyung moaned, louder than ever, his mouth hanging open and lids half-closed, watching you through his thick eyelashes as you significantly slowed down.

“Cah-can’t hold it, Tae,” you said quietly, your voice close to a whisper if anything.

He gently took your forearm, sending an encouraging squeeze. “It’s okay, baby. ‘s okay.”

You whimpered softly, the high-pitched wheeze sending blood rushing to Taehyung’s dick, twitching inside you, begging for release. Impatient, Taehyung moved his hands to your lower body, one on your hip, the other underneath your ass, helping you deliver deep bounces until the gates opened; when you came, you saw white. You could see the white walls of a square room, everything white and pastel yellow, the figure of a man stepping towards you with a suit and tie, the man being Taehyung, his hair longer than it is now, shiny, plastic, fake, not real, a dream, not real- when you came, the weird, offhand smell of lemonade filled your nose as a dribble of creamy white ran down the vein of Taehyung’s cock.

Your arms gave way, weakened after your hard work, and Taehyung lifted you up off his dick to simply hover above him with thighs on either side of his hips. Once he removed himself with a slick sound, he let out a large exhale of breath, the tone gravelly and animalistic in some sense. Resting your hands on his shoulders, although they moved in jitters across his body, from his collarbones to his neck to the tuft of hair sticking up on his head, you gently eased yourself down, running the wetness back along the tip of his dick, your eyes widening when he groaned loudly; one hand cupping his balls and the other on your hip with his arm wrapped underneath your ass, Taehyung let out a gruff, “fuck”, and let go, cum splashing up onto your cunt, dripping like a leak in the roof, spread like cake frosting.

Reluctantly, Taehyung let his arm slip, giving way and letting you drop onto his thighs with a tired thud. He stared, dazed, bringing his fingers to join at your hair, pulling away the knots. After all that, you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed, shyly moving out of his eye to hide your body, a slight dusting of rose on your cheekbones. Taehyung whined softly, his hand wrapping around your wrist- “Hey, are you alright?”

“Mm,” you replied quietly, looking to him with an admiring gaze. He paused, pleased. Dropping your gaze to your bare cunt, Taehyung’s gaze followed, a smile pulling at his lips. In fact, his brow even quirked with satisfaction, exactly like planned. “Just gotta clean this up.”

“I could help,” he offered. Implying that he would get on his knees and lick the mess away, of course. You flushed.

“Taehyung, I dunno, that sounds kind of-” you began, but, catching sight of the way his face widened at the thought, his eyes glued to the stickiness of your vagina, his fingers tapping erratically on the sides of your thighs.

“Just like a bath, only rougher.”

“I don’t think that’s entirely accurate,” you breathed, practically burning with mortification when Taehyung shuffled down the bed to lay down on his shoulder-blades, his elbows propping him up almost expectantly, like a dog waiting for dinner. Curving your brow, you simply watched him, curious.

“What, you worried about the taste?” he asked bluntly, smiling as an afterthought. “The smell?”

“Yes, and yes,” you admitted, stroking his V-line with one finger, a feathery touch that made him shudder. “I mean...the hair…”

He groaned in amusement, his head falling backwards. “Y/N,” he exclaimed, his mouth widening to reveal the same set of weirdly white teeth. “Most males have hair and women still go down on them. D’ythink it’ll be different for me to do it? Honestly,” he huffed dramatically, taking your hand whilst supporting his body with a single elbow, “I’m not picky like that. I’m seriously the best person you could have sex with, really.”

“...Lucky me,” you sighed, after a breath of thought. His eyes flashed open wide for a split second, content with that answer.

Taehyung smirked through a chuckle, one produced by the tension in his throat, and tapped his chin with his finger, coated in dried cum, his tongue wetting his lips in anticipation, “sit.”

(And sit, you did.)

“No matter what, you keep finding something to fight for.”

As if it had just been touched by the demon underneath the bed, you pulled your leg back underneath the sheets of the motel bed, wrapping it around Taehyung’s legs, out in a starfish position.

You glanced up at him. “Hm?”

His Adams bobbed up and down, as if it was suddenly hard to swallow. “Joel Miller said that. The Last of Us, 2014, Naughty Dog. A story of a man who got loaded with a 14 year old, smuggling her across America to become the cure to humankind. He said that to her, at the end of the game.”

“Oh, yeah?” you muttered, face smushed against his breast. “It’s a nice thing to say.”

He made a noise of agreement, but it fell short. “Yeah, but wanna know the context? He got selfish. At the start of the game, he loses a daughter, probably the same age as Ellie when he finds her.”

“Who’s Ellie again?”

“The girl.”

“Oh, right.”

“Ellie is immune to the zombie apocalypse- I mean, how fucking fortunate? She’s being taken to this gang of scientists to become the cure, but he kills them all when they try and kill her to take brain samples, or something. Anyway, he takes her back to his brother’s little camp in the woods, and just before the game ends, he tells her that. He looked at her, said to her face, “No matter what, you keep finding something to fight for.” She made him swear to it.”

You hummed with interest, propping your chin underneath his nipple to stare up at him, enthralled by the shadows cast on his face from the angle. “You like that quote?”

“It applies,” he explained, moving his hair from his forehead. “Back in New York...ah-” he inhaled a breath. New York brought back a flood of memories, that was obvious. It seemed as if talking about it was difficult, and you rested a hand on his bicep with a meek smile, “you don’t have to say it, baby.”

“No, no,” he continued, not rudely. “I want to. Look...I lost my sister. For all I know, she’s dead. I mean, I hope she’s not, but when we got separated in New York...man, I lost it. My body went into a shutdown, I searched New York with a baseball bat with nails, some stolen gun I didn’t know how to use properly. My mate, Bogum, was with me for a bit, before he left with his friends to go somewhere better. As if there’s anywhere better. My sister was everything I had in America, and losing her like that...I just, shut down. My body couldn’t cope.

“Point is, is that I don’t wanna lose anybody again. I don’t want to lose you like I lost her, Y/N,” he rasped, his chest filled with something tight. It felt like he was breathing poison. He repeated the quote, lost in the words, his eyes closed gently.

You sat up completely, looking down at him with a washed over expression. His lips pulled back to a frownish smile, his fingers reaching to loop a strand of hair behind your ear. “Should cut your hair.”

“That’s enough video game references from you tonight, Tae,” you laughed breathily, pulling your hair back to fall down your back. “But, yes. I agree. Help me cut it tomorrow?”

He nodded against the pillows, bringing you down to join a kiss, and then press your nose to the shell of his ear. “Course. I’d do anything for you.”

And it went without question.

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wickymicky · 5 years

Note

I also think Lip goes by her stage name more often because people tend to make fun of her real name bc it's the same as the North Korean leader and she doesnt like it. Although bc how close Chuu is with her and the fact that Chuu is the most likely to not use stage names I think she might use Lips real name sometimes

yeah i was gonna say like i feel like when ive heard it its probably been from chuu lol

honestly that sucks, cause its her real actual name and the parts that make it up are really common. jeong and eun are in all sorts of names... but at the same time her parents had to know... i mean he wasnt the leader at the time, but kim jong il’s family’s names were all public knowledge, i mean... idk lol. like i’m sure its from different hanja, but still. also the korean spoken in north korea pronounces that name like “tsong-eun”, the “eo” vowel is much more like an o than it is in south korea, and j/ch are more like dz/ts, so if you got both jungeuns/jeongeuns/jonguns in a room together they wouldnt say their name the same way, but that doesnt really matter lol, cause people in the south say the north’s leader with their accent too..... yeah idk there’s no way around it, that’s just really unfortunate. like if it was park jungeun or something like even that would be better, you know? i mean idk, are her parents like tankies or something? lmaoooo

#olevereidna

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boyinatown · 6 months

Note

Hello love may i request the sending them lingerie pics but with gun, goo, samuel and Jake?

SNEAK PEEK!

Pairing: gun, goo, Samuel, jake x f! Reader

Warning: sexual theme, doggy style mentioned, mating press!

A/n : it’s finished finally omg.

★ GUN PARK / PARK JONGGUN

Sending this man nudes wasn’t an weird thing at all, considering how much you guys fucked and how dirty you two were together he didn’t blush at the sight of your pictures but when you sent him a black lace set lingerie with his favorite material he couldn’t help but grip his steering wheel wishing he was done driving crystal around.

Finally when he’s off the clock he immediately raced back home to his beloved sinner <3

Watching gun slam the door open and immediately go towards you taking off his blazer he grabs you up and lifts you attaching his lips to yours, and you both propped onto the he couch.

“Show me that set, I wanna see it up close.”

Lifting up your shirt teasingly making him pout jokingly you hurried up revealing the top then strip teasing him while lowering your shorts slowly until he got tired and huffed tugging them down faster and then whistling.

“Do a twirl for me baby, I wanna see the back to..”

But when you twirl he immediately slaps your ass causing you to yelp and he chuckles dragging you down onto his lap when he attaches his lips again but onto to your neck making you shift against his hard on making him groan.

“You look so pretty f’me beauty, now I wanna see it all messed up,”

And with that he sneaks his fingers down your laced underwear and latches onto your neck while you let out noises he loved.

You were worth dropping Crystal off without meeting the chairman. <3

★GOO KIM / KIM JONGOO

oh god this man, this man LOVES nude pictures I’m even sure he would jerk off to them privately while cursing and moaning your name beautifully and whining like a damn baby

He’s filthy , but when you send him a lingerie picture with his favorite color that he told you to get earlier he immediately got off a broken and defeated gang member he just beat up and his eyes beamed reflecting them on his glasses . Stepping over the injured men he skipped to his car saying: my baby is waiting at home, I’ll deal with you all later

“Darling! Where are you? Let me see ya in the set! Don’t be a tease come on out-“

And there you were standing and losing hands on your hips and eyes batting at him, he couldn’t help the smirk grow on his face and he could just cum right there and then if it weren’t for his tight pants holding back the monster wanting to be released.

“Do you like it, goo?”

“Like it? I love it! It matches you perfectly I know I made the right choice telling you to get it why don’t you listen to me first!”

“Just come over here and fuck me moron.”

“Yes ma’am!”

While walking towards you you could swear a flashing light just beamed in his eyes and he throws his glasses away immediately pouncing on you causing a small yell to leave your throat , at the same night you left real ones leave your mouth <3

★ SAMUEL SEO / SEO SEONGEUN

Samuel loves you a lot, your voice your laugh your taking your looks…your nudes. And ofc lingerie pictures , when he’s fighting he knows you’ll send him one but what he didn’t ex left is you to send one while he’s in a meeting with Eugene and the rest..

A small ping caused everyone to turn to Samuel, ‘didn’t I turn off my phone?’ He asked his self pulling his phone from his pocket and when he clicked on your notification immediately taking him to your picture he didn’t notice ryuhei behind him and heard a small uh noise turning to ryuhei he glared making the blondie swear he only liked Mitsuki.. he cursed at you but at the same time he loved it the fact that ryuhei knows your his and just how lucky he is. He couldn’t wait to come back home

“I swear I only have eyes for Mitsuki! She’s all yours I promise-“

“Get out of my face and don’t even look at my phone again without permission.”

Samuel sighed once ryuhei left and the meeting was over, he walked towards the exit to take a small smoking break he called your number and waited after 3 buzzes to pass until you picked up.

“Hey Sammy, liked the picture?”

“Not only I, but a co worker to, now he’s seen lucky bastard..don’t do that again without a warning.”

“Didn’t you like it?” “ I did , but next time-“

“Fine I got it I learned my lesson! When are you done with work?”

“I’ll call you when, and it seems like I gotta teach you another lesson when I come back home.. your in for it.”

“What-“

Before you could protest Samuel hung up leaning his head against the wall he was already imagining you crying on his cock, sucking on it gagging and his hand pushing your head down further while your pathetic eyes looked back up for mercy only to be met with his evil dark ones, how you’d bounce your ass back on him and back arched moaning for more and how you-

“Samuel, Eugene said you’d drive us to the location.”

Fuck, Eli jang. He hated how whenever he’d have these thinking moments of you someone always interrupts. He was holding his self back from slamming Eli into the wall but instead just groaned and walked towards the car with both Eli and Warren following suit.

Guess he’d recreate those scenarios at home for your ‘ lesson’ <3

★ JAKE KIM / GIMYEONG KIM

ah the leader of big deal , fearless and powerful sweet and caring , perverted and mean when he’s balls deep inside you. Your pathetic cries and protests all get silenced when he pushes his lips aggressively against yours and just keeps pounding away

Why? Since you thought sending him a lingerie picture while he was busy trying to fill in papers to get sinu back, since he hadn’t been giving you attention and you decided to act bratty. Now facing the consequences once he slammed the door open.

“you say I’m not giving you attention? Have you gotten lonely my love, my apologies I’ll make up for it now.”

Jake Kim now pushing you further into the bed and legs dangling on his shoulders all while he held the back of your thighs to push into your chest almost near your ears .

“H-hah’ your mean! Stupid…fuhk!!-“

“That’s not nice , you say that but your gripping on to me for dear life look.”

Jake pulls out slowly making you gasp and look up at him with desperate eyes for him to push back into your soaking hole that was clenching around air desperate for friction. Anything, now rubbing back against the tip of his cock whining and he just keeps pulling away holding you in place by your thighs.

“Aht aht aht, didn’t you say I’m stupid? I guess I’ll keep my stupid disease away from you.”

“No! Put it back in…please Jake I’m sorry, I want more don’t pull out fuck!”

“Ask nicely and I might.”

“Fucking put it into me, please moron!”

“It was worth a shot.”

Guess he had to fuck the bratiness out of you, looks like a long night ahead. <3

★ ok byeeeeeeee

#gun lookism smut #lookism gun #gun lookism #park jongun #goo lookism smut #lookism goo #goo lookism #kim jongoo #Samuel lookism smut #lookism samuel #samuel seo #Jake Kim lookism smut #Jake lookism smut #jake kim lookism #lookism jake kim #I’m so tired #samii 🐈‍⬛

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janghyungf · 1 year

Note

What lookism chapter makes you go feral

BROO, It's gotta be chapter 285 - 286 , I MEAN LOOKK

Still can recover from this, I hope we get another Daniel VS Gun because is A NEED.

#daniel lookism #james lee #lookism #daniel park #gun lookism #dg #lookism 238 #Daniel vs gun #park jongun #lookism x reader

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icarus-t · 2 years

Text

Re-reading and thinking 'Wait, that happened?' Part 2. Seriously though, re-reading is lit. I legit don't remember Gun and Goo's first meeting. That aside, I want to know how this played out.

On another note, are Goo's glasses glued to his face?

#lookism webtoon #lookism #lookism gun #lookism goo #kim joon goo #joon goo #joongoo #park jong gun #park jonggun #jongun

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gwoongi · 5 years

Text

𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗎𝗌 ✰ taehyung (7)

𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗎𝗌 kim taehyung / reader genre: zombie apocalypse au words: 4228

It felt shit to feel thankful of someone’s screaming. Mostly, Taehyung was happy it was them and not him.

a/n: funny story, i submitted this chapter as part of my creative writing portfolio and the prestige uni i sent it off to loved it and accepted me :D hopefully thats a nice indication on whether or not this is good :S

warnings: extremely graphic content, sexual pain, graphic torture, gore, violence, death, Humans Suck

01. denver ↝ 02. holiday with me ↝ 03. sad forever ↝ 04. surely ↝ 05.scorpion ↝ 06. shakespeare ↝ 07. thrones ↝ 08. moon motel

The group leave the trailer park three days later.

Bundling everything of use into the back of the truck, which seemed darker in colour since the last time it was used, you had found you enjoyed leaving more than you did settling in. Packing everything into correct places had always been such a bore, even at a young age. You remembered when you were eight, and moving in to your grandparents’ home in the outskirts of Denver. Was this really Denver? It was a small town, barely noticeable amongst the cluster of trees and ferns, but nonetheless peaceful, ‘perfect for a new place to start fresh’. Yeah, it only took around an hour and a half to get to school every-day, but don’t worry, it’s a fucking perfect place to live, aged eight, as an orphan. It took you around eleven months to finish emptying each box.

But four years ago, throwing everything into a backpack and into the boot of a car you nicked from down the road, it had been so easy. It was so easy to throw everything out and keep what you really needed. Easy to forget to pack a jacket you had been given for Christmas off an aunt you barely knew, easy to remember to pack all the knives out of the kitchen and the forbidden gun your grandfather used to hunt deer in the winter. It was rather symbolic- pretending people were deers as you shot them between the eyes.

“That everything?”

Namjoon stood, risen off the ground, his hand on the bar of the roof of the truck. Taehyung stepped down the plastic steps from the trailer, not bothering to lock the door, knowing nothing in there was of any value. At one point, the rainbow-glassed fruit bowl might have been of value, sentimental value or something. Now, it was worthless, with a lightning bolt crack down the middle.

“Yeah, good to go,” Taehyung replied, hovering when you climbed into the back to join Kyungmin. He waited, not knowing what for, only mildly embarrassed when you turned to see him staring. “You okay?”

You nodded once with a smile. “Mm. Are you?”

“Yeah. Sorry, I-”

Somehow, he hadn’t realised you shuffle to the open back doors to pull him in for a simple kiss. It was that quick and simple that he almost missed it. His eyes opened to the sight of you in front of him, your hands holding his face, rubbing the stubble around his jaw.

“You’re holding us all up, you know.”

“You’re holding me up,” he muttered, peeling your hands off his face and pressing a kiss to your knuckles, somehow finding the strength to let go and at the same time, make his way to the front of the truck. The whole vehicle shook as you pulled the back doors closed, submerging Kyungmin and yourself in familiar darkness.

“You got a map anywhere?” Taehyung fuddled in the glove compartment as Namjoon started the truck up. He pulled out a worn map, the same one you had used to direct the both of you out of Denver. Namjoon didn’t care for the quality, muttering a hasty thanks and peeling it open, staring at the lines and faded colours. “Keep heading East, as if we’re going to Georgia. Hopefully, we’ll catch Seokjin and his crew of fans on the way there.”

“And if we don’t?” Taehyung asked. When Namjoon fell silent, Taehyung’s lips pulled into a tight frown, “I’m just asking for the future. You’re not coming to Georgia. We’re going. I wanna know what our plan is before we put ourselves in danger in the middle of nowhere.”

Very aware of the compartment slider down, Namjoon found it was difficult to pick a solution that would best suit everybody. Kyungmin wanted to stay with Taehyung and yourself, forgetting Korea entirely and heading straight for the islands off the coast. Namjoon knew you wanted to go to Georgia with everybody, hoping to stick together as a four, but if there was no other option, you’d go to find a plane. Taehyung wanted to get to Georgia with you, but wouldn’t be opposed to finding Seokjin. As for himself, Namjoon wanted to take the jeep to Virginia, leaving Taehyung and yourself on the road.

Everybody made tough calls. Those words echoed in his head. Above all else, Kyungmin was his priority.

“I wanna take the jeep,” Namjoon said slowly, aware of the frowns, “but I can help find a vehicle for you and Y/N to use to get to Georgia. When that happens...we’ll go our separate ways. Half to Virginia. Half to Georgia. Fair, and square.”

Kyungmin fell with a thud and a sigh in the back of the jeep, and Namjoon did his best to ignore it.

“Alright,” Taehyung agreed, believing there was no other way around it. As long as you and him were safe, he didn’t care how it happened. “Whatever you say goes.”

14TH MARCH, 5 YEARS AGO.

Jiyong: i’ll be round at like 7:30ish. lost my weed bag and i’m a junkie and cant leave without it

Y/N: i hope it kills you

Jiyong: watch me actually die

Jiyong: don’t cry at my funeral you fake friend

Y/N: KIDDING!!!!

Y/N: is...seunghyun coming

Jiyong: fuck off

Jiyong: hes banned from seeing you

Jiyong: i cant believe my best friend is fucking my other best friend

Y/N: i like to call it woohooing and we’re being safe

Jiyong: i cant believe this is happening

Jiyong: why seunghyun?????? why not youngbae he treats women nice

Y/N: idk!!! we just hit it off a lot

Jiyong: you’ve known him for like 5 minutes

Y/N: it’s literally been like 5 years but whatever

Y/N: can’t you just be happy for me? i’m living life getting laid being happy n shit

Jiyong: i respect it but i’m not coming to urs expecting to have fun watching goblet of fire for the millionth time only for you to give seunghyun a sweaty bj right in front of me

Y/N: that was one time Let It Go

Jiyong: one day i’m gonna fucking die and you’ll realise how badly you treated me

Y/N: stop you’re my best friend :-(

Y/N: what are you like jealous that im banging him and not you???? wanna join

Jiyong: yeah i’d literally rather fuck the girl from the ring

Y/N: kinky

[03:45am]

Jiyong: woah did you hear about the north korea shit

Y/N: im literally being pounded into Cant this wait

Jiyong: we’re gonna die because kim jongun wants to nuke us and all you care about is seunghyun’s 3 inches

Y/N: it’s just fake news dont worry about it

Y/N: how many times has he threatened nuclear war

Y/N: he should hurry up and do it before exams

Jiyong: just wanted to check up on you because ur nan is fucking mental and she’ll probably collapse tomorrow morning and panic buy loaves of bread

Y/N: stop omg

Jiyong: anyways stay safe love U please bring me my weed tomorrow morning me and Jennie are gonna get high and try anal

Y/N: sweet thanks

SOMETIME LATER.

Leaving the world behind through the back windows of the jeep, you were oddly reminded of the time you left everybody behind during a Summer many years ago. It had been a spur of the moment decision, something you never expected to do, but found yourself doing anyway.

It felt like a lifetime ago; you had almost forgotten about it, until now, until seeing a sign graffitied with a smiley face, reminding you of the “GRIME SIGN” back in your hometown, renowned for being the most graffitied sign in the city. Whether or not that's true, you never really found out. Seunghyun and Jiyong had come along too, for the moral support of being alone on the road. With Jiyong in shotgun and Seunghyun in the backseat, it had felt like something slap-bang out of a teenage coming-of-age movie, titled “3 delinquents on the road to God knows where”, directed by Quentin Tarantino. You didn’t even know how to drive. It was pure bliss.

“Any luck with the radio?”

Kyungmin rattling the small radio that had been picked up from the trailer park startled you, the memory of driving nowhere and everywhere at the same time suddenly gone like the wind. As your vision readjusted to the dark, you noticed that Kyungmin was pressing all the buttons and turning all the dials, a frown on her lips jutted outwards.

“Not yet,” she replied. “Just give me a few more minutes, I can probably get this thing working.”

Namjoon let out a soft curse, swerving the truck slightly to move around a left behind Volvo, the cars open like wings with a dried trail of dragged blood leading into the thick forest. Things like that were common accessories, famed like tourist attractions. Namjoon now thought of what the world was really like- could Paris be any worse than America? What was Iceland like these days?

“Nearly there, now,” Namjoon said vaguely, and Taehyung debated whether or not to reply, if there was even anything to reply with at all. That’s how things went now, short replies or simply none at all. When the world died, so did words. Namjoon thought that was funny, how the collapse of society could mean the collapse of communication and language.

“We’ll need to stop for gas,” Taehyung said, his voice barely above a third volume. From the back of the van, you sat with your face looking out towards the left behind road, your eyelids growing heavy at the sound of Kyungmin pressing buttons, and the hum of the van beneath your thighs. “We’re running on fumes.”

Namjoon grumbled a reply, mentioning something about a gas station a couple miles ahead, near the clearing in the woods, just off the road. It didn’t take long to approach, only around ten minutes if Taehyung were to count. At least three songs had played since then. Taehyung couldn’t believe he was now counting using songs.

The station was large, decaying and it looked unsafe. Taehyung didn’t exactly care about the safety of the building itself, just caring about how safe it would be in the long-run. Safe enough to hide inside? Safe enough to step inside? Safety in architectural design didn’t matter anymore. If it looked rusted, it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.

Namjoon pulled the truck into the station, immediately noticing a few canisters of fuel that was left for the purpose of using, a sign reading “STAY SAFE” stood up, stuck with black masking tape. The letters were dripping onto the concrete, a small pool of chalky white near the drain where a plant was starting to sprout.

“Are you feeling okay?”

Kyungmin’s voice made you look over from the canisters, a wrinkle between your brows. She smiled, generously, and waited for your reply. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

She was talking about the Great Escape the other day. You already knew that.

“Just curious,” she replied, the smile never wavering. “There’s not many people left in the world, you know. Next to Namjoon, you and Taehyung are all I have.”

A silence fell on the two of you, and all you could hear was the sound of Taehyung dragging a barrel across the gas station, dipping his head underneath a broken window and scanning the interior of the gas station.

“I’m here for you,” Kyungmin continued, her voice significantly quieter. “You know that, right?”

“Of course I do,” you replied, and your hand came up to stroke her forearm, a smile on your lips. For a moment, it didn’t feel like the apocalypse. In that moment, it felt like two best friends, reunited after a Summer break, the pine trees isolating them from the world, a Studio Ghibli film, released 2019.

And yet Kyungmin moved away, her gaze lowered as she passed across the gas station to meet Namjoon, already lifting canisters of gas towards the car to refill. Taehyung had emerged once again, his bag refilled with cans and cigarette packets, surprisingly a bottle of liquor in his hands as he stepped back into the bitter wind. Inhaling a breath, Taehyung crossed the width of the station and opened the passenger door to the vehicle, setting down his bag and the bottle, as if they were small children.

“There’s no way we’re making it to Georgia on time.”

Taehyung paused, throwing you a look over his shoulder. “What?”

“Let’s think realistically,” you reasoned, tugging at the cloth over his elbow. Above all, you didn’t want Kyungmin to be upset if she overheard. “It’s been...how long? Since we left the warehouse? I haven’t exactly been keeping up with the dates, but it’s been too long, Tae. Normally, it takes less than 24 hours to get from where we are- wherever we are- to Georgia. And yet, we’re still not near. I’m just-” you sighed, raking your hands through your hair. In the dim light, the grease was visible. “I think we’re out of time.”

“Y/N, they’ll be there,” Taehyung said. He didn’t know what else to say, frowning, “I thought you wanted to remain optimistic?”

“I do, but I can’t afford to hope to get to Georgia and find them there. And what?” you continued. Your voice had raised slightly, not enough to make Kyungmin or Namjoon ask questions, but enough to make Taehyung’s nose cringe at the increase. “We get there, and find them. Is anything gonna be the same? What if we get there and they’re gone and there’s no boats? What if we get there and something happens to any one of us? Tae, I can’t have that on me. I can’t have that on my conscience. Not again.”

Not again. “Yena wasn’t your fault, Y/N, you have to know that-”

“I don’t fancy being out on the road all night.” Namjoon stepped into view from around the front of the van, his hands shoved into the pockets of his distressed jeans. “Thinking we keep driving, turn in when it gets dark to the first place we see.”

“Isn’t that a little risky?” Taehyung asked, mentally making a note to continue your conversation later. “I mean, we have to really check the place before we head in.”

Namjoon frowned. “I know that. But, Kyungmin’s feeling kinda travel sick, and I don’t wanna overdo it, you know? Nights like back at the trailer park...I want more of them.”

Already moving to the back of the van, you pulled open the double doors and slipped inside, keeping them open in time for Kyungmin to crawl in after you. Her skin was a shade of ivory, whiter than earlier, as if the sickness had come suddenly like a simulation glitch. Wasn’t that what you were now? A glitch? An error in coding.

Namjoon shut the drivers door, groaning at the loud sound.

“Hey, man, you okay to drive?” Taehyung asked quietly, looking over from shotgun. “Look, if you’re tired, we can switch the orders around.”

Namjoon looked over weakly- “You’re sure?”

Taehyung unbuckled his seatbelt, dumping his jacket in the footwell with a sniff of stuffy air. “I’d prefer if you slept if you’re tired. ‘Specially when they’re in the back. Don’t wanna hurt them.”

He made a sort of grunt as a reply, switching seats with the younger. When he was sat in the passenger seat instead of the drivers, he let his head lull back onto the windowpane, feeling the chilly glass cool the back of his head. It was as if resting his head had added extra weight to his eyes.

“‘m gonna drive straight-ish,” Taehyung said with his tongue between his lips, backing up the van slowly and carefully. Namjoon opened his eyes slightly, squinting.

“Can you drive?”

Taehyung changed gears. “Yes.”

If Namjoon noticed that Taehyung paused, he didn’t mention it. In-fact, he closed his eyes again with a shrug, a half wriggle, resting his forehead against the glass, pushing towards the cool touch.

Taehyung had been driving for hours, for sure.

The time in the van was unlikely to be reliable, reading 5:19pm when the sky was as black as squid ink, the dim street-lights that somehow worked- probably solar - beckoning the group forward. In honesty, Taehyung had no idea how long it had been since the gas station, just long enough to give him a crick in his neck, the back of his thighs numbed. All things considering, Taehyung thought he was getting better at driving.

He flinched slightly as the divider to the back came sliding down, and your face popped out slightly, peering out the front window with sleepy eyes. If he had a free hand, Taehyung would have wiped the sleep from the corner of your eye, and he turned back to the road, oddly afraid of crashing the car with all four of you inside. Like yourself, he didn’t want that on his conscience. Like yourself, he couldn’t have it on his conscience, not again.

“Are we stopping soon?” you asked quietly. Namjoon shifted, making it known he wasn’t sleeping. He groaned, grinding the heel of his palm into his eyes, unbothered when dust and dirt smudged on his skin when he pulled away. He could look worse, he thinks.

“Nearly,” Taehyung replied. “I don’t know where to go from here. Last road was blocked, so, I’m trying to get out of here.”

Namjoon shifted, cracking his shoulder loudly. “You tried any back-streets?”

Instantly, Taehyung thought of the woman earlier in his trip. The way she screamed at the car, scratching at the rusty paint job, her eyes bloodshot and her skin a lime colour. He gulped the hot lump in his throat, “I’d rather avoid them.”

“It’s safer,” Namjoon continued. “Out of the way-”

Somewhere outside of the van, there was a loud crash, similar to the way you sound when you drop something at midnight when your parents are sleeping. The volume was loud, louder than anticipated, and Taehyung unintentionally stalled the van. Kyungmin jeered forward, hitting the underneath of her chin on the seats opposite, sending out a string of foreign curses to Taehyung in the driver's seat. He avoided the stare of Namjoon, deciding he didn’t want to see the deathly glare.

“What the hell was that?” you asked, cradling a throbbing pain on the side of your face after catching it on the separation between front and back. “Is someone here?”

Namjoon stayed silent for a moment, staring darkly into the outside. Taehyung didn’t know what to do except wait, ready to jump into action when Namjoon made a noise of surprise- or was it shock?- and slapped Taehyung’s hand with great panic, “Fucking pull up somewhere. Turn off those fucking lights. Fuck, fuck, fuck-”

“Jesus,” Taehyung cursed, doing exactly that as you leaned back to switch off the lights, submerging Kyungmin into darkness as the blood pooled in her mouth from earlier. She groaned something between her lips, holding her chin with her left hand as she picked herself up to lean over into the front, staring out at what Namjoon was watching across the small street. With the van now in darkness, away from the streetlight, you were invisible.

It wasn’t hard, locating the source of Namjoon’s panic.

Across the street, a flood of artificial white engulfed the street, barely missing the pull-in that Taehyung had moved into moments earlier. Namjoon slouched out of instinct, keeping his eyes on the road as he noticed three people dashing out into the darkness, the explosive lights following them as if they were automatic. They probably were, turning on as they stepped further and further away from the door they ran from. As they hurried past the hidden van, another noise pulled away your attention.

A large garage door screamed as it opened, in desperate need of oil, chains clattering against the metal interior. The light suddenly changed to an eerie green, something you saw in documentaries about weed farms. As it slid further up into the building, Namjoon hitched a breath as the sight of three sets of human legs came into view, dressed in stunning ebony, large guns by their hips. One of them smoked a cigarette, the smoke rising up like old Native smoke-signals. The middle guy pulled up his mask, covering his nose and lower face, and loaded the large Heckler Koch HK MG4 MG 43, aiming it swiftly at the little piggies running away from the slaughterhouse.

Taehyung knew that gun- the Heckler Koch never missed a target. He barely flinched when the gunman hit the kneepits of the runners, sending them to the ground instantly, their bodies buckling under the loss of legs. The screams were loud. Mama has the bacon, now.

The other two gunmen laughed loudly, approaching the pigs and picking them up to drag them back into the garage, a trail of blood marking the concrete like paint. He said something, the main gunner, and the two spares were taken away, possibly to die, maybe to a waiting room where they would await their death, as casually as they would waiting for a doctor’s appointment. The last runner, a man who looked to be in his mid-thirties, with already greying hair at the top, was pulled to the side of the room where three more men emerged, a woman amongst the pack with her hair sprawled out to her elbows, in mermaid curls. She was gorgeous, nobody could argue against that, with her body in a glamorous dress, something too glamorous for the apocalypse. On her feet, heels that presented her perfectly painted toes, a peachy shade.

“What’s happening?” Kyungmin asked. It was rhetoric. Everybody knew the answer.

The woman dressed in glam approached the slumped body of the runner, crouching to cup his face and stroke a thumb across the bags under his eyes, bleeding out with veins a bright red, the red of a freshly picked apple, the red line under a spelling error. She closed her eyes and leaned forward, putting her thumb over his lips and kissing her nail, before retreating and nodding curtly at the men around her. It was a signal, for they picked up the runner and began to tear off his clothes, leaving him stark naked, covered in purple bruises, tiny flowers on his skin.

Taehyung had seen things like this before- he was no stranger to the way the men beat the man with clubs and their boots, laughing at the way he retreated into his own skin, recoiling at every kick and screaming with every sickening club, until he accepted the fact that his body was their plaything. He watched, in morbid wonder, as they dragged him by his swollen balls to the center of the room, where a sharpened hook hanging from a chain off the ceiling swung threateningly, a bone being wagged in the face of a dog. The man whimpered, his eyes hurting, only barely making out his destination before his body shook violently.

The man picked him up as if he was a sack of sugar, with one hand around his neck, promptly planting him on the hook as if it were a throne. Now Taehyung had to close his eyes.

It was curling upwards, sharply, scraping every wall and nerve and good spot that ached. Yet, the men watched with wonder and satisfaction, clapping when he thrashed like a fish out of water. His legs were immobile, moving inches and with every movement came a grunt of pain, flashed with panic and agony from his rather pointy throne, and then the passing pain of his arm being cracked upwards.

The crack was loud.

From behind him, Taehyung heard Kyungmin make a small wheeze, hurrying into the back of the van, where Taehyung watched you pick her head up off the seats, your thumbs in a pool of vomit around her mouth. You didn’t even care about the sick on her knees, or the smell in your nose. Namjoon looked through the slot, dragging the divider up before the sound of retching made him sick, too.

You stopped listening to the retching, quietly shushing each whimper as Taehyung slowly started the van back up, grateful that he was covered by the sound of someone screaming in fucking agony. It felt so wrong, to be thankful of a tortured man. Cock and all, Taehyung was thankful he was screaming. The tyres of the van slowly rolled along the road, in the shadows, at a sluggish pace. Namjoon wiped away a line of sweat on his forehead, unable to look away from the man, thrashing like a pig, hanging like a sack of meat in a slaughterhouse, blood pooling now at the corner of his mouth, his eyes, his nose, dried blood at his ears.

It felt shit to feel thankful of someone’s screaming. Mostly, Taehyung was happy it was them and not him.

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