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dawngyu · 23 days ago

Text

THE LAST SAFE PLACE

pairing: idol!beomgyu x fem!soldier reader click here for moodboard

Summary: The world didn’t end with a bang. It ended with a whisper, a deadly virus creeping through the streets, turning the living into something… monstrous.

It was supposed to be a mission. Get in. Get out. Rescue the five a-list boys holed up deep in the city of Seoul. But nothing in this new, broken world is simple anymore.

The dead don’t scare you as much as his starry eyes do—deep brown eyes that make you question if you’re the one who needs saving, after all.

warnings!: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. apocalypse!, survival!, blood!, character!deaths, zombies!, descriptions of!killing, gore!, attempted!sa, menace!reader, anxiety!attacks, signs of!pstd, cursing!, side oc characters, reader has her own last name, pov being switched from reader to beomgyu, mini timeskips, drunk-in-love beomgyu, emotional-baggage, let me know if I missed any! (not proofread, first fic.) smut!warnings: fingering!, oral!fem receiving, missionary, unprotected, slightbody!worship.

wordcount: 30k

notes: Whenever I saw writers call their fic their "baby," I used to wonder what that really felt like. Now here I am, sharing my first-ever fic—my baby—with all of you. It’s far from perfect; I know that. But isn’t that the beauty of writing? I believe we all have room to grow, and so do I.

This fic is inspired by two things I hold dear; Beomgyu (and TXT as a whole) and the idea of finding love in the middle of an apocalypse. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed creating it.

taglist: I just want to say I love you. thank you for giving this story a chance. @beomiracles @agustdiv1ne @binluvsu @saejinniestar @haowonbins @vampzity @usuallyunlikelyfox @gyu-tori @xodidarks @tubasmiracle @hyunelixbun @woncheecks @lovingbeomgyudayone @beomsdoll @baekberrie @parkweylyn @lun4mizuka @lilbrorufr @no1likemybbgcharlie

Saying the military "protects the nation" always felt like a hollow statement to you—something neat and rehearsed, meant for recruitment ads or patriotic speeches, you came to understand it all too well after years of service. Life is fragile, easily dismissed with a single command, and the concept of disobedience isn’t even an option.

You follow orders, make decisions, and carry out tasks already mapped out for you and your team. The oath you swore binds you to honour whatever higher-ups deem necessary for the greater good, no matter the cost. It matters not, even if it costs your life. That’s how it is.

You've lived like that for as long as you can remember, and sometimes you wonder if it’s that very belief—an unwavering fool—that drove you to become the soldier you are. You know by now that it will also be the very reason for your end someday.

The sound of banging at the door jerks you awake. Your eyes strain in the pitch-black darkness of the barracks. You think you might’ve slept, but it doesn’t feel like it—not really. More like you were just drifting in and out of consciousness, never quite at rest.

"Park. Roll Call." You blinked, scrunching your face. The pounding on the door didn't let up, insistent as ever, making it clear there was no chance of them stopping.

"I'm up." You shouted. The cool floor met your bare feet, and you groggily reached for your shoes tucked neatly underneath. Your eyes flicked briefly to the small bottle of sleeping pills on the bedside table. It sat there like an accusation, a stark reminder of the restless hours you spent last night. The tossing, the turning, the damp sheets sticking to your skin as you wrestled with the silence that refused to grant you peace.

You exhaled, rubbing a hand over your face. The pills—felt like the only option. You stared at the bottle, before grabbing it and slipping it into your bag.

Opening the door, you found yourself face to face with a smirking Do-hyun. "Good morning," he said, tone laced with sarcasm. "Except it’s 2:30 a.m. and we’ve got urgent business. Captain’s called us. Did not say anything about it."

"Must be top secret," you muttered, wincing as the harsh overhead light hit your face. You tried to tame your hair, pulling it into a sloppy ponytail. "C'mon."

You fell into step beside Do-Hyun, the sound of your boots hitting the floor echoing down the empty hallways of the garrison. Your shoulders brushed as you walked, the quiet around you almost unsettling. It was way too early—or maybe too late—for anyone to be this awake.

Seeing a few other soldiers from different units, you saw the same thing: them stumbling into their shoes, eyes half-closed, still caught somewhere between sleep and whatever had pulled them out of bed.

Your boots thudded against the floor with each step. Everyone knows the drill—soon enough, you'd find out what the mission was. Probably something you weren’t supposed to ask too many questions about. Face set in a hard, businesslike expression, you could feel another one coming. Another duty. Another unknown.

"This must be a big one," you muttered, scanning the growing crowd of fighters being herded into place. It was rare to see… this many called out at once. "How many teams are they assembling?"

"I don’t know," Do-Hyun replied with a tired sigh, clearly irritated. "I should be asleep, dreaming about anything other than this, but here we are." Early-morning chaos is the only thing that can get under his skin.

You followed him as he turned left down another corridor. People started staring as you passed—from other squads, lingering on the two of you. They knew. They knew who you were.

Black berets. Special Commands Unit. Infamous. You didn’t need to say it aloud; everyone already knows. The reputation of efficiency, precision, and something else—something darker. Your team never, ever failed. Your team didn’t just complete missions. You annihilated them.

That reputation followed you everywhere. You could still feel the weight of their gazes—some filled with admiration, others with something harder to read, maybe even a little fear. It wasn’t new. You’d felt it for years, people looked at you like you were a hero or a big, bad warning.

You were used to it by now.

When you finally enter into the room where your team usually gathers, the moment your eyes land on the team commander, you and Do-yun both instinctively, snap to attention, "Captain Joon. Park Y/N and Jung Do-yun, reporting."

"At ease. Sit down," Captain Joon responds, tone as calm as ever, looking at you directly as if assessing your state. You lower your salute, glancing around at the rest of your teammates already seated. Looks like you’re the last to arrive.

You make your way to an empty seat, crossing your legs as you also folded your arms, leaning back for comfort. You catch the faintest glance from another one of your teammates, Eun-woo, who raises an eyebrow at you but says nothing.

Captain Joon stands at the front, pacing back and forth, usual self missing. He opens his mouth, then stops, words not coming. He closes it again, staring ahead. It’s strange to see him hesitate like this—it’s not like him at all.

"Alright," he starts, avoiding anyone for eye contact. "We’ve got a new mission. It’s… a lot different than what we usually have." You uncross your arms and lean forward without thinking, drawn on the word "different." There’s something about it—his tone, his hesitation, maybe—that makes your stomach clench.

He continues, "This one’s high-risk. We don’t know exactly what we’re walking to. We’ve got intel, but it’s shaky at best; All I know is there’s a virus spreading. Not like Corona. No, it’s not like that. This one… it turns people into something, not human. They become—" He stops, words hanging in the air. "—they kill.. They attack. And they spread it to others. It’s not confirmed yet, but it will be. Soon."

He doesn’t wait for any further response. "We move out in an hour or two. We will be assigned to a specific mission in the middle of this. Get your gear ready. Dismissed." Six pairs of eyes follow him as he exits, leaving a heavy silence in the room. It's cold. It almost feels unreal—like something out of a movie.

You’d been to other countries, thrown into the thick of it—dealing with terrorists, and a hundred other ways to die. After all the things you’d seen, all the wars you’d fought, the idea of a virus outbreak was not the kind of fight you were used to.

"So, a virus? Like zombies?" Seo-jun’s voice breaks the stillness. He stands up, eyes wide with disbelief.

"It's medically impossible." Beom-seok replied, shaking his head, "Or at least… it should be." he added, almost to himself.

"If it's a virus—then what? How are we, supposed to stop that? A plan on how? Is there going to be a… vaccine? Some cure?"

You stand up, movement so subtle yet enough to make the others still, their attention turning to you. "We’ll figure it out," you say, voice firm. You lean back against the table, crossing your arms, "We always do. Whatever it is, we’ll handle it."

Do-hyun shoots you a look, then nods, his expression unreadable. "Right," he says. "We’ll deal with it."

The words hang in the air, and the newly shut door swings open with a loud noise, making everyone turn. A figure stands in the doorway, breathless. "Did you guys see the news?"

"Did you see the news?"

Yeonjun’s hands were trembling as he shoved his phone into Taehyun’s hands, practically forcing him to look. On the screen was a livestream—a news broadcast, but not the usual kind.

Taehyun blinked, his half-asleep face confused as his eyes adjusted to the screen. He stared, his breath catching when he realized what he was watching. He’d never been a fan of gore or horror, and this felt like both—worse, even. The video was chaos: people running, screaming, blood everywhere. Limbs tangled and barely escaping the streets. The sounds of panic—raw, animalistic—clawed at his nerves. He shivered, his voice coming out barely above a whisper. "Is this… a new movie or something?"

Yeonjun swallowed hard, his grip tightening on the phone as he snatched it back, his fingers quickly tapping away at the screen. "No," he said, voice low, "It’s from.. SBS."

"A drama from SBS?" Taehyun asked, still trying to make sense of what he had just seen.

"No," Yeonjun shook his head quickly. "News live stream. It's been trending. Saw it a couple of minutes ago." Panic flared across his face as he started typing furiously, sending messages to his mom. Where are you? Are you safe? Please reply. His heart pounded with every second of silence that followed.

As the phone screen glowed with his continuous text, the sound of a door creaking open interrupted. Soobin stepped out of the bathroom, checking the two of them that seemed frozen in place. "What happened?" he asked, voice laced with concern.

The question was left unanswered when Yeonjun’s phone suddenly rang. A small spark of relief flaring up in his chest—only for it to fade just as quickly.

It wasn’t from his mom. It's their manager, "Hello?"

Taehyun got up to get his own phone, his movements stiff. Soobin stayed by Yeonjun’s side, eyes flicking between the phone in Yeonjun's hand and his face—filled with anxious expression.

"He’ll speak to you. He wants to," Yeonjun said, meeting Soobin's gaze. His voice was uncertain. Yeonjun did not want to miss out on anything, but the manager had already requested for their leader. Soobin nodded, catching the worry in the latter's eyes. He offered a soft tone, "You can put it on speaker."

"Okay, listen up. I don’t know what’s really happening, but it’s dangerous, very dangerous out there. It’s… people eating people. Do not let anyone leave the house. All five of you. You've just had your groceries dropped, right?"

"Yeah, but what’s—" Yeonjun’s voice cracked, but the manager cut him off.

"Again, I don’t know much. None of us do. We heard the president’s about to announce martial law over this. The military’s locking down the city. You can’t go anywhere. All you need to do is stay inside. Help will come. When they get there, they’ll say my name. You’ll know it’s them." Hands trembled slightly as he held the phone, fighting the urge to hang up and try calling his mom again. Soobin saw it, his own anxiety spiking so he stepped closer, placing a steady hand on Yeonjun’s shoulder then taking the phone from his shaky grip.

"How long do we have to stay here?" Soobin whispered. "What about our families? They’re out there too."

"I don’t know," came the reply, the voice on the other end. "This started in Seoul, based on the news. The military’s setting up safe zones in every city around you. They’ll be protected. But no one can get in or out until things settle. Just… stay inside. I’ll keep you updated when I can-" The line went dead. They stared at the phone, signal bar disappearing completely.

"What are we going to do now?" They heard Kai mutter. He’d stepped out of his room after hearing the commotion. "Hiyyih is out here in Seoul too."

"I don’t have a signal now either," Soobin said, glancing at his own phone, face tightening as soon as he saw missed calls from his dad, his mom, and his sister, brother. He has missed their calls. With a frustrated sigh, he grabbed the TV remote and switched it on, only to be met with a busy signal. The screen flickered, in bold letters, the message appeared:

STAY INDOORS. ANY SIGNS OF WOUNDS, FEVER, OR VIOLENT BEHAVIOR—ISOLATE IMMEDIATELY.

He started flipping through the channels, to see something different. But each station showed the same warning. Taehyun returned, his face heavy with worry. "I got through to my mom, but she was crying too much to say anything. Just told me to stay safe."

Yeonjun was silent. He didn't know what to do, unsure if this was some elaborate prank. Looking around the room, suddenly realised something. "And where the hell is Beomgyu?"

"Sleeping."

A scream pierced the air outside the dorm room, making all of them jump in shock. Kai was the first to react, quickly moving toward the door and peering through the peephole. For a brief moment, there was nothing—just eerie silence. Then, a thump echoed, followed by continuous pounding on the steel door.

"Help!" The voice outside cried, voice hoarse. Shuffling was heard.

"Kai, get here!" Soobin hissed, Kai moved back, frozen in place, gaze still fixed on the door. Slowly, he crossed the room, his footsteps making no sound, cautious as he approached the youngest. He then grabbed his shoulders and pulled him back, away from the door. "Stay away from the door,"

Four men stood paralyzed, eyes wide and locked on the door, afraid that it might open, every muscle tense. The door vibrated with each pound from the other side, and the sound of another scream sent a chill down their spines.

Waiting in terrified silence, hoping whatever was outside would stop.

Yeah. They definitely shouldn’t go outside.

It had been seventy-two hours since the government declared the state of emergency.

Seventy-two hours, since the virus outbreak hit the public, and almost everything began to spiral out of control. Your team had been pushed from one task to the next—helping transport, fortifying armoury barricades, trying to keep the city standing. You feel like you couldn't even have time to blink.

Nothing seemed to stand a chance against the speed of the virus.

The radio crackled to life, its voice cutting through the tense silence. "It’s reported that some cases have been found outside of Seoul too."

You swallowed, the water in your canteen suddenly feeling too heavy in your mouth. Your rifle was strapped to your back—knives tucked into your pockets pulled at your clothes, a grim necessity. Your backpack packed with supplies, pulled at your shoulders.

The blood on the streets made your face contort. It wasn’t just the sight of it—it was the knowledge that innocent people, civilians, were the ones who’d ended up here. It was their blood staining the ground, their lives cut short. In just seventy-two hours, this outbreak had become a full-blown mad nightmare. It was real, right here—heavy, like the world had already started to fall apart around you.

"How long?" you asked, trying to shake the unease gnawing at your stomach.

"The report came in an hour ago," came the response. An hour. Sixty minutes. That’s all it took for the virus to spread. An hour, it was no longer just the city.

"There’s still some armory left in this area," Captain Joon says, brushing off the latest intel your team just received. "We need to clear this out, then head back to camp for the next mission."

You slip the water bottle back into the side pocket of your backpack and tilt your head back, stretching out any stiffness. It's been almost twenty-four hours since you last slept.

"Ju-won will come with us."

"The newbie?" Ji-ho raises an eyebrow.

But the thing is, he’s not really a newbie. The military doesn’t just let anyone into the special command unit—you have to be overqualified to even get a chance. People are reacting this way because it’s been years since anyone new has joined. They’re not used to it. The whole thing feels a little odd.

The boy walks forward. You glance at him, and it’s clear right away. The way his body stiffens when he sees seven seasoned soldiers in front of him—he can’t be more than twenty. But, something about the way he carries himself catches your attention. His eyes don’t drop, not even for a second. There’s no sign of hesitation or backing down, even as the rest of you appraise him, silently evaluating his physical presence. It’s almost as if he expects to be here, like he belongs.

He's got guts.

"Captain," he saluted, "Min Ju-won. Sent from Unit Two to provide additional assistance. Engineering."

Captain Joon gave a quick nod, his eyes briefly shifting to you. "Stick with Y/N." Ju-won lowered his salute and jogged over to where you stood.

"We leave in 10 minutes,"

Seo-jun let out a low whistle, looking over Ju-won with a grin. "Well, look what we got here. A kid at the end of the world. What a nice day it is." The sarcasm in his voice hung in the air as he effortlessly adjusted his M4.

"Ignore him. He's a twat," you muttered, clicking your tongue and feigning an attempt to kick Seo-jun's leg for his comment.

Ju-won, just smiled and waved it off, his eyes still locked on you with an almost admiration. "It's alright," he said quickly. "Y/N… then I must be looking at the black beret's most skilled team engineer and sharp-shooter."

"Damn right, she is," Do-Hyun chimed in, grinning as he playfully ruffled your hair. You slapped his hand away, the motion half-hearted but familiar.

The wind howled as the cargo truck went down the rugged road, the engine's hum barely audible over the gusts. Beom-Seok was at the wheel, while Captain Joon sat in the passenger seat, checking the horizon. The other six of you were crammed in the back, weapons ready.

You could feel that someone was watching you. You turned your head to the right, and sure enough, there he was—Ju-won, looking at you with an expression that was oddly calm for a day like this. You chewed absently on the sweet gum in your mouth.

"I’ve always heard your name, even when I was still training," he said almost embarrassed, but there was a hint of respect in his words, "A lot of us admire your skills. We even know your schedule—like when you will drop off at the headquarters."

"Yeah?" You raised an eyebrow, curious but not particularly moved. "What am I supposed to do with that?"

Ju-won grinned, unfazed. "And, of course, your temper is well-known too."

You snorted at that. Of course, it was. You'd made more than one higher-up nearly pass out with your snark and disregard.

Most of them acted like you were supposed to kiss their feet, even though they barely had the skills to back it up—just a good last name and a father in a high place. Lucky bastards. They got used to it—eventually.

Ju-won seemed to pause, thinking for a moment. "I want to be like you."

It caught you off, staring at him, no response from your lips. Who would want to be as miserable? Who in the right mind would? No one should have to carry this kind of burden, no one but you.

"You don’t know anything," you said, right after seconds of silence. "Trust me, you don’t."

Ju-won didn’t seem discouraged by your bluntness. Instead, he leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand, "Then maybe I can ask questions to get to know you better?"

"No." You're unsure of where he was going with this.

"Just one then? And if I do well on this mission, I can ask for another one after?" He pumped his fist after your silence, the small gesture that made you want to roll your eyes again.

"How old were you when you joined the military?" His voice was gentle, but his curiosity was clear.

It wasn’t a question people often asked, at least not in the way he asked it. Most were interested in your skills, the missions you’d completed, or the stories you could tell. No one, ever cared much about who you were before all that.

"About seventeen, officially," you replied, the words feeling strange in your mouth. Had it really been that long?

"Woah," Ju-won exclaimed, his eyes wide with surprise. "And how long have you been in service?"

You glanced out at the passing landscape, your thoughts briefly drifting to the years that had passed. "Seven years. Counting."

"You're so cool." His gaze flicked to you a few more times, but he didn’t press further.

The only sound in the pitch-black courtyard was the soft shuffle of footsteps against gravel, your team moved cautiously toward the overrun military outpost. It had been more than twenty-four hours since anyone radioed in, and in your line of work, that could only mean one thing.

Defeat. Death. They’re dead.

You gripped the AR-15 in your hands, its weight and feel as familiar as your own skin. Your eyes stayed locked ahead, scanning the shadows, the captain just a few steps in front of you. You could feel Ju-won’s breath on your back.

"Hold." The captain's voice barely rose above a whisper, but you caught it—sharp and commanding. His hand went up in a familiar gesture, signaling. Eun-woo and Ji-ho moved, splitting off to cover the blind spots—each one wary of possible exits or hidden threats.

The minutes stretched on, almost suffocating. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears, when faintly, a soft whistle.

A go signal. Finally.

The captain’s eyes flicked to you. Without words, he surged forward, and you followed, close, moving deeper into where the map was marked.

With Eun-woo and Ji-ho still posted at the entrance of the courtyard, and Beom-seok at the Cargo Truck to secure on the road, the remaining five of you moved carefully toward the building’s entrance.

Seo-jun reached for the rail handle and pulled it. It was a split-second decision, but he made the mistake of opening it too wide, too fast. The sound was deafening in the silence—a loud scrape of metal against metal. It was the darkness. Or maybe it was the way no one had heard anything.

The infected—so many of them—started to emerge from the inside, their eyes hungry, limbs jerking unnaturally as they snarled and gnawed at the space where you stood.

"Shut it off!" was yelled, but it was too late. Seo-jun tried desperately to pull the door, but the dead were already pushing their way through, toppling the door with brutal force. No stopping them now.

The growls, their gurgling moans, flooded. You took a step back, when you noticed the next wave of infected closing in from both sides—right and left. The courtyard was becoming a death trap.

“Guns!” Captain Joon barked, voice sharp and urgent. He raised his rifle, opening fire on the approaching dead, and you followed. You didn’t think, didn’t hesitate. You aimed at the nearest infected, firing with the precision you’d drilled into your muscle memory. Beside you, you felt Ju-won moving, his shots echoing through the chaos.

You kicked one of the infected coming too close toward you—hard. The sickening crack of its skull as it spun from the impact of your boots almost drowned out the growls, relief was fleeting—another wave was already pushing through.

"Move!" you shouted to Ju-won, grabbing him by the shoulder and shoving him to the right side, where it seemed there was a slight gap in the swarm. You followed, not letting up on your fire. Each shot to the head was methodical, each kill necessary for survival.

You kept repeating it in your head—headshots. Headshots, or they don’t die.

Through the haze of gunfire and screams, you spotted Do-hyun on the opposite side, surrounded but still fighting, his rifle a blur as he tried to hold the line.

"Captain!" you shouted, your voice rising over, as you saw the widening gap between your team. You continued firing, shots ringing out, each one a desperate attempt to keep the tide of the dead at bay. You grabbed the arm of an infected that crept up from behind, pulling it sidewards with all your strength. The thing flailed, but you kicked its legs out from under it, slamming its head down with a close shot. Blood splattering on your track pants.

Another bullet whizzed past you, too close, and you turned to meet Ju-won’s eyes. There was no time for words. He’d just taken down one of the infected that had come up behind you.

Minutes passed, but it felt like hours. The gunfire echoed in your ears, drowning out everything else. Then, you heard it—Seo-jun’s voice cutting through the noise.

"Captain. Orders!"

It was a soldier’s instinct, that need for direction even in the face of death. It was what you were trained to do, what you had to do.

"Fall back." His command came. The words you’d been waiting for. You began to step back, scanning the darkened courtyard. And then, just as you thought it couldn’t get worse, you saw it—a wave of infected flooding out from the building. Your eyes locked on one of them, a child, no more than twelve, wearing a middle school uniform.

No. No time to mourn, no time to think. You shake it off, turn your attention back to Ju-won, who was already falling back as well.

You ran, but it was a futile attempt. The middle part of the courtyard, the one that had been empty moments ago, was now swarming with infected.

“Go forward!” Captain Joon’s shouted again.

The sound of gunfire, the screams, the snarls—they were all blending together now. You saw Eun-woo and Ji-ho still at the entrance of the courtyard, firing relentlessly. But there were too many. It had to be the sound of all the gunfire—had to be why they were flooding in from the other buildings now.

You couldn’t run without firing. The infected were, too close for comfort.

“Ahhh!”

Ju-won’s scream tore through the noise, and you whipped your head to the side. You saw him—surrounded by four, maybe five infected. Their gnarled hands reaching for him.

You sprinted forward, the gun dropped in an instant. You reached the closest infected, grabbing its hair and yanking its head back with force. The knife you’d pulled was a flash of silver in the darkness, and you slashed it across its throat, the blade biting into the flesh with a wet sound.

You couldn’t fire. Not with Ju-won so close to them.

You felt Do-hyun and Seo-jun near you now, forming a small circle, keeping the infected at bay while you worked to free Ju-won. One by one, you killed the infected around him within seconds. But when the last one finally dropped, you froze for the first time tonight.

There's a wound. The bite. A deep, angry stash on Ju-won’s neck, blood spilling down his chest, soaking through and colouring his shirt. Your heart stopped.

"Y/N…" His voice was weak. Too weak.

"Come on," you said, trying to drag him to his feet. The others were silent, at the sight.

"Help me!" you shouted, the panic finally breaking through as the infected kept coming. "What the fuck are you staring at? Help me!"

Do-hyun snapped out of his thoughts and rushed to help. He moved to slide his arm under the left side, but before he could get a firm grip, Ju-won's hand shot out, pushing him away.

"Leave me."

"No. Come on."

“Just leave me, Y/N.” he whispered again, "I know I can't be helped."

“I’m not having this conversation—”

“It hurts!” Ju-won suddenly shouted, pain in his voice. His lips were turning blue, face pale, eyes glassy with tears. “It hurts so much. I—I want this to just end. End it. Please. I'm begging you.”

Your breath caught in your throat. He started crying, Min Ju-won.

“Y/N?” Do-hyun’s voice broke through, gunshots ringing, “Decide now.” Seo-jun’s voice was distant, more gunfire ringing out, words clear. He was asking you to make a choice.

"Shh, It’s going to be okay," you murmured, wiping his tears away, "Everything’s going to be okay." You pushed the sweat-damp strands of hair from his forehead, fingers brushing against his cold skin. “You’ll be alright.”

Min Ju-won.

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” You leaned in close, feeling his weak attempt to smile on your neck, breath coming out in ragged gasps when he felt you pressed your knife to the back of his head. “It’s okay, Ju-won.”

Making sure to do it quickly, you didn’t want him to suffer—not even for a second. He stilled, and then there was a quiet exhale against your skin. His last breath.

Arms went limp in your embrace.

Min Ju-won.

You stare at your hands, blood too much, not yours, too obvious to wipe away. The vehicle lurches forward, but nothing about this mission feels like it’s worth it. No weapons recovered. And one less soldier with you.

You ignore the stares of your teammates, the silent questions they’re too scared to ask. Even when your captain demands what happened, you can’t find the words.

Death isn’t new to you.

You’ve seen it, lived with it, had to pull the trigger more times than you care to admit. Had to deal with it more times than you'd care to count. But this… this is different. There’s a heaviness in your throat that won’t lift—can still feel him, still hear his laboured breath as you hold him in your arms.

The dog tags in your hand are cold against your palm. They’re not yours. There were too many of them. The infected.

No one could even bring his body back.

"We're here," Eun-woo says, the vehicle finally pulls to a stop at your temporary camp. He'd been staring out the window for the entire ride, lost in thought, barely noticing the road or time. You don’t wait for anyone to open get out. You push yourself out, body stiff and eyes burning, but you do your best not to let anyone see. You try to blink away the moisture, to keep it together. You can’t. You won’t.

“Y/N, I—” Seo-jun starts, his voice hesitant, reaching for you.

"Save it." you snap, harshly, not letting him finish his sentence. He falters at your glare, watching turn and walk straight for the barracks, not even sparing a second glance in his direction.

Your body, with blood, not yours, and the dog tag around your hands swaying with every step.

"Give her space. She did it herself. Again." Do-hyun’s voice is softer, almost reluctant, as he watches you retreat. His eyes follow you, lost in thought.

Maybe it’s because you’re a woman and they’re all men, or maybe because you’ve always been the youngest, they've known you since you were much younger. Or maybe it’s the fact that they’ve never seen you crack, never once seen you break down when they all have at one point or another. After all these years, when they themselves had crumbled, you always seemed to keep it together. You always did. First... they admired how strong you were—physically, emotionally, mentally—and even envied it at times but as time went on, they started to realise something.

The empty look in your eyes—it's haunting. They all knew what you did for them, what you'd sacrificed.

Ji-ho pats Seo-jun’s shoulder, his face mixed with understanding and exhaustion. He points his head toward the door, a silent suggestion to let you have your space.

You stepped inside the massive military tent, the hum of conversations halting as everyone’s gaze turned toward you. You noticed someone even take a hesitant step back, eyes widening.

"I'm not fucking bitten," You didn't pause to explain further. You couldn’t. Instead, you kept walking, ignoring the stares, the whispers that you could practically feel on your skin. You didn't care, walking past the soldiers, the stares heavy on your back. You made your way to your assigned makeshift door, pulling it open and stepping inside.

The small room felt like the only place you could breathe. The bathroom was the next thing you could think of.

Once inside, you slumped onto the cold, unforgiving floor. Your face landed near the toilet, and before you brace yourself, your stomach churned. The contents from your day—what little you had managed to eat—came up violently. It kept going, feeling your body betray you as your throat burned, as your muscles contracted in spasms. The bile, bitter taste, nausea kept pushing until your stomach was empty and you felt nothing but raw, aching emptiness.

You dry your mouth with the back of your filthy hand, smell of blood still lingering in your nostrils. The memory of it—of what you'd seen, what you just did—threatened to send you over the edge again. You fought the urge to gag.

You knew it wasn’t something Seo-jun should be explaining for. He called you earlier, sounding like he wanted to apologize, wanted to make sure you were okay. But you didn’t want to tell him everything was fine. Because it wasn’t. It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know what was waiting for you inside that damned place. He didn’t know the hundreds of the dead you'd have to face. He tried his best too, just like you did. But none of that mattered.

Killing is easy. You had convinced yourself that—it was something you could do without blinking now. Maybe you could even kill with the same ease as walking a dog in the park, that it could become second nature.

You killed someone who had just started to make you wonder—what question they would be asking you after the mission. Something small, something so... human. With your own hands. No real reason. No justification. For the sake of getting equipment. You killed him.

It wasn’t supposed to feel like this.

With effort, you flushed the toilet, then let your body slide back to the nearest wall. Once it was done, you let yourself slump back against the nearest wall, Your fingers digging into your face as if you could erase the last few hours just by pressing hard enough. Sweat, cold and clammy, trickled down your forehead.

"Y/N," came a voice from outside the door.

Captain Joon. You didn't respond. You didn’t even move. "Rest," he said, his voice softer than usual, "You're needed for another mission after a couple of hours. Rest, fix yourself, and take a bath."

"Did you just take a bath?" Taehyun asked, seeing Beomgyu’s damp hair, towel draped around his neck, few droplets of water still clinging to his skin.

Beomgyu nodded, not even looking up from the crackers he was munching on.

"Again?"

"You got a problem with that?" Beomgyu’s house slipper flew through the air toward Taehyun’s. It was effortlesly dodged.

"Why are you taking a bath three times a day?"

Beomgyu shrugged, gaze finally lifting to meet Taehyun's. "There's nothing else to do,"

Taehyun paused, small ache in his chest upon the words. Being an idol, he knew well the activities—packed schedules, comebacks, fan events, concerts. It never stopped. Hell, he could not even remember the last time he’d celebrated his birthday with his family.

Beomgyu exhaled sharply, "It's been four days… You think our families are okay out there?"

Every day now was a reminder—waking up to the reality of the virus outbreak, everything at a stop.

"They should be," Taehyun replied, though he didn’t feel as sure as he sounded. "We're the ones stuck here."

Beomgyu didn’t answer, instead shuffling his trash away. Just then, Kai appeared from the bathroom, face slack with disappointment.

"Guys, the water’s stopped."

Yeonjun jumped from his seat, rushing to check the sinks, only to find no water coming out. "Shit."

Beomgyu bit his lip, frustration bubbling inside him. Just when things couldn’t seem to get worse. The isolation, the fear—it was all becoming too much now. It's growing every day. He stood up, ignoring Soobin’s frantic voice as he tried to save whatever little water they had left.

He shut himself in his room, the door clicking softly behind him. His eyes wandered to the small house model his family had made for him—a little reminder of home, something he would look at whenever he needed to feel close to them. He collapsed onto his unmade bed, staring blankly at the white ceiling, his thoughts made up mix of thoughts and scenarios. Maybe there was a miracle out there—something, anything, to change this.

Minutes passed in silence before Beomgyu’s voice broke the stillness. "I hope there’s an angel out there. Someone who’ll come get us… get me. Out here, to a safe place." His heart thudded painfully in his chest—he knew no one would ever hear those words, but he couldn’t help but hope.

You slowly make your way toward the apartment complex, the team had decided to move under the cover of darkness again—it drew fewer infected and lowered the chances of running into trouble. At least that’s what your team hoped for.

The freshly laundered combat uniform felt like it was made for you. The black fabric, almost matte, clung to your body, moving with you as if it were a second skin. Your boots, worn but sturdy, held you grounded. Each step was sure. They gave you that solid grip. On your hips, the twin knives sat, steel blades catching the light with a faint, almost imperceptible gleam. Your hair was pulled back, tight in a high knot. Not a strand is out of place.

The mission was clear: rescue the five A-list boys trapped in this building, ever since the outbreak began.

Hybe, was the one who went to the military for help. They couldn’t exactly say no to them—so here you are, walking into a situation you can’t quite predict.

Six of you, without Beom-seok to secure the vehicle on the road as usual—all armed and ready, step closer to the entrance of the block—though you spot a few infected lingering around, they’re silently dealt with. A knife to the head, no noise, no struggle—just clean and quick.

Your captain’s biggest worry is the location. The middle of the city. So many people in such a small space can only mean one thing—too many infected. It’s a risk, but it’s the job. That is exactly why these people are stuck here in the first place. No help has been able to get through until your team was sent in.

"It's here," Eun-woo says, pointing toward the stairs in the corner. He folds the marked map and tucks it away. Captain Joon nods, "One by one. Be aware of your surroundings."

Everyone gives a tight nod, moving quickly to follow his instructions. You scanned every corner, every shadow. You don’t miss a thing. There are a few infected nearby, but they have not noticed you. So long as they don’t see or hear, and you’re far enough, you’ll be fine.

Earlier, it was also clear that most of the infected in this area are concentrated in the outer courtyard. It looks like the people who lived here panicked, tried to escape out there, drawing all the infected away from the apartment complex itself. It’s eerily quiet now, almost too quiet.

You reach the door to apartment 304, and the rest of your team spreads out, covering all sides of the hallway. You catch your breath, scanning both directions again, alert to any movement. Someone begins to knock on the door. Minutes tick by, but there’s no answer.

"Are they fucking asleep?" Ji-ho whispers, his voice sharp with impatience.

"What do you expect?" you snap,"You think they’re awake at this hour, just waiting for us to show up?" The words feel bitter, but you don’t care. "Move,"

Before you can even make a move toward the door, a voice breaks the silence. It's soft, hesitant, almost as if the person speaking is scared to even let the words out.

"Who’re you?"

Kai had been just about to head to the bathroom for a quick piss when he heard it—an soft rattle against the door.

It’s been days, days, since there was any sound from the other side. Complete silence. So hearing something now, especially in the dead of night, made his blood run cold.

Someone’s trying to break in?

He freezes, mind racing. Slowly, he walks towards the door, arms out in front of him, keeping a little distance like it might somehow help. His breath is shallow as he inches closer to the small peephole in the door, just enough to get a glimpse.

Soobin made him promise not to go near the door, but he won’t know. He’s asleep, anyway.

There are people out there. No, not just people—soldiers? At least three men and a woman, he's not really sure, but they're standing and staring straight at their door. He can’t make out their words, sound too muffled, but he can tell they’re muttering something under their breath, heads tilted as if they’re listening too.

Woah. She’s… really pretty.

Kai immediately shakes his head. Focus. Now is not the time to be thinking about how pretty she is. She’s out there, trying to break the door down. Or… is she?

What if they’re the ones sent to rescue us?

He squints through the crack in the door again, taking in the soldiers’ uniforms. They’re military. That has to mean something—and waking the others would take too long. He swallows hard, asking the question.

"Who’re you?"

"Open the door," Captain Joon says, his voice firm and immediate. "We've come to help you." There’s no reply from the other side.

"Manager Jisoo. Hybe."

There’s a sound of the lock turning, and the door creaks open just a crack. It’s dim inside. The air inside hits you. Smells faintly of candles—probably because there’s no electricity to rely on anymore. One by one, everyone got ready to move inside. You turned your head slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of the person who had opened it.

He looked young—his skin pale and features sharp, with a foreign look. His bangs messily hung over his eyes, longer than he probably intended. Your eyes met his, and just as quickly, he looked away. Great. You all must have really scared him—heavily armed, arriving at his dorm in the dead of night.

"We're all coming in, Son," Captain Joon said, gaze flicking to the boy’s face, silently asking for permission—though he did not really need it. You were here to rescue them, to bring everyone back. Whether they were ready or not, you were going in. "What's your name?"

He nodded and opened the door wider. "Heuningkai. Kai is fine."

"How many of you are still in here?"

"Five. Uh, I’ll need to wake everyone up first."

"Go on." You took in the space they had been holed up in. Everything screamed lived in. Floors wooden tiles. It was clean, considering men were living in this place. Some sweaters were carelessly tossed over the couch, an Uno card sat beside it, random orange peels and a few glass mugs were scattered across the table. But aside from that, everything seemed… orderly. Something about this space made you feel out of place.

"Could you please wait here?" Kai stopped after taking a few steps away from your team. The front door shut behind. You glanced at him as he spoke, and you saw it—his face.

It was almost like he was afraid that if he turned around, everyone would just... leave.

He didn’t give anyone a chance to respond. Without another word, he turned and headed for the nearest door. You took in the hallway—six doors in total. One of them was probably the bathroom, and the rest, you guessed, must be their rooms.

Kai walks in, still feeling the embarrassment creeping up his neck. He did not mean to pout or sound so desperate in front of everyone—it just kind of happened.

The whole outbreak had him on edge all the time. It wasn’t like him at all. But now, for the first time in a while, he's starting to see hope. And with that came a fear he hadn’t expected.

He shuts the door behind him, eyes flick to Soobin, who’s sprawled out on the bed in his usual weird sleeping position. One arm thrown over his face, legs tangled in the sheets like he’s trying to escape them.

If anything, it’s comforting to see Soobin still so… Soobin.

"Wake up," Kai says, giving Soobin’s arm a little shake. There’s no response. "Soobin,"

He just mumbles something unintelligible and stays still. With a sigh, Kai slaps the flesh of Soobin's thigh—a trick he’s learned always works when he's in deep sleep.

"Shi—Kai?" The latter groans, blinking his eyes open. He winces slightly, almost about to curse, but then he notices the younger one standing there, looking a little shaken, and his protective instinct kicks in. "What happened? Are you okay?"

"They’re here. They—the help. They’re outside. I let them in." The older man shot up, his mind struggling to shake off the remnants of sleep. For days, he'd been waiting for this moment, but now that it was here, he could hardly believe it.

Soobin looked at Kai’s face, searching for any sign of bluffness. None.

"Wake everyone up, Kai. I’ll, I'll talk to them. Good job," he said, his voice thick with a mix of urgency and something else—nervousness, maybe. He ran a hand through his messy hair, trying to steady his racing heart.

The younger gave a quick nod, already rising to carry out the task.

Soobin hesitated for a moment, then followed, his feet heavier than usual. When he stepped out of his room, the sight hit him. Soldiers.

All dressed in black, standing almost stiffly in the cramped living room, as if they did not know where to place themselves, presence filling every corner. They looked out of place—one man was sitting, looking collected. He was much older—maybe in his late 40s—and when he saw Soobin, he stood up too, moving with authority.

"Hello," Soobin said, bowing deeply. He wished his voice to be normal, but it cracked. His eyes stung, and he blinked, trying to hold back the tears likely to spill. These people—they look so capable.

How desperately he’d needed them.

"I know it's late, but we need to move now. It’ll make things easier for us," Captain Joon started.

Everyone had gathered in the living room now—eleven people, all listening. A large map was spread out on the table in front of them, marked with lines and notes. "We’ve got a cargo truck on standby, and someone guarding it. Waiting for us,"

You leaned against the wall at the back, trying to stay out of the way. Your long gun resting to your right side. You crossed your arms, observing them all, taking in the scene. These five—when they first arrived, you’d seen it clearly: that fleeting, unguarded emotion that flashed across their faces. Relief? Fear?

Your thoughts drifted for a moment, the hum of voices fading, when suddenly you caught something. One of them was looking at you. You met his gaze, and for a second, neither of you moved. His eyes were a soft brown, almost warm, framed by dark hair that was swept back but still fell messily across his forehead. His jaw was sharp, yet there was something almost delicate about it. Something… soft.

You raised an eyebrow at him, just a slight challenge, and he blinked, startled. He bowed his head in your direction awkwardly—before you could return it, his eyes darted away quickly. Followed by a deep shade of red that crept into the tips of his ears.

He didn’t look back at you again—as though he couldn’t look at you a second longer.

Little did you know, when you weren’t paying attention, his eyes would steal a few more glances in your direction, each one shorter, but no less curious.

"We'll travel this way, and you all will be dropped off here at this camp, as requested. Understand?"

"And, we can just bring a backpack each?" Soobin asks, looking around the group. He’d introduced himself as the leader earlier.

"That doesn't mean you can just throw anything in there," you replied, finally speaking up, giving your first words tonight. "Keep it light. Only pack what you really need." Captain Joon gave a slight nod, acknowledging your point.

"Got it,"

"While we're at it," Captain Joon continued, “since we’ll be traveling together, it’s probably best you get to know the people you’ll be with. Just in case something goes wrong.” The mention of anything happening seemed to linger in the air. The five of them had never seen an infected before. You all know that can cause problems.

"As you probably already know, I'm the Captain of this team," Joon said, he shot a quick glance at you before going on.

"Park Y/N," he nodded in your direction, "our engineer sergeant. She’s the one who builds stuff, blows stuff up—whatever needs doing, really. She's my second-in-command."

Beomgyu has a valid reason to look at you now. And when he thought he never be more mesmerized, somehow, he was.

Earlier, when he first stumbled out of bed and woken by Kai, he wandered into the living room, still half-dazed. He was caught off guard on how… beautiful you were. He’d seen soldiers, sure, but you? You were different. You looked like you belonged on a magazine cover—not out here, in the middle of a hellscape.

How are you, not a celebrity? he wonders, half-wanting to slap himself. How are you so beautiful, standing here, in the middle of this nightmare? The strangest thing, though, was the pull in his chest—even though he’d only just learned your name. Even your name—sounds pretty.

"Do-hyun," Joon said, pointing to a man near you, "he's in charge of our comms—makes sure we stay connected. Keeps the radios running, that sort of thing." Do-hyun gave a lazy salute, a smirk playing on his lips.

"That’s Eun-woo and Ji-ho," Joon went on, pointing to two others standing with confidence. "They’re our weapons experts—know every damn thing about fixing, maintaining, and using all our weapons. They also take inventory, make sure we’re stocked up when we need to move out."

"And then there's Seo-jun," Joon said, nodding toward a tall, figure standing slightly apart from the rest like you. "Does the planning, the strategizing. And last but not least, Beom-seok. He’s the one left behind—our medic.”

"You can pack now. We'll wait here. We’ve got food rations on the truck, so you can eat there." Captain Joon finally ends the conversation.

The five of them stand up and start making their way to their rooms.

Beomgyu exhales a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. The air feels lighter as he steps into his room. They're finally getting out here.

He stands in front of his closet for a few seconds, unsure of what to grab first. He picks up his backpack and starts shuffling through his things—some clothes, and his hygiene kit that Taehyun had already packed for him. He opens his drawer and realizes he’ll need to change out of his pajamas. A plain shirt, some cargo pants, his jacket… and where the hell are his boots? Before he can finish, he hears the door creak open.

"Beomgyu," Yeonjun’s says. "That chick’s really cute."

Beomgyu freezes, his hand mid-reach for his shoes. He blinks and turns to face Yeonjun. "Have you packed your stuff, or do you think we’ve got all the time in the world?"

Yeonjun raises an eyebrow, looking slightly taken aback. "Geez, chill. Why are you being so mad?"

Beomgyu hesitates. He doesn’t really know. It could be the way Yeonjun had interrupted his packing, or maybe… maybe it’s because Yeonjun’s casually saying something like that. Beomgyu feels something twist in his stomach.

Yeonjun thinks you’re pretty. He doesn’t know how to deal with that.

"'M sorry,"

Yeonjun watches him closely. "Was it because of what I said—"

"No."

A knock sounds on the door. Both of them turn toward it. Eun-woo peeks his head inside, his expression casual. "We're just waiting for the two of you, and then we're off."

"Let's go,"

The only sound is the steady rhythm of feet against the ground. Your team is spread out, moving in a loose pattern. Captain Joon, Seo-jun, and Ji-ho take the lead, scanning the surroundings. Soobin and Kai walk close behind, hand in hand. Taehyun and Beomgyu follow next, then Yeonjun.

You, along with Do-hyun and Eun-woo, bring up the rear. It’s all going smoothly. You’re alert, watching the others, everything seems calm—until you notice Yeonjun. He’s suddenly still, his body frozen in place. You glance over and follow his line of sight.

In the open space ahead, a small group of infected wander aimlessly. Movements are jerky, unnatural, and the growls that escape their throats are low and guttural. One of them is lying on the ground, its torso half severed, intestine out, but its arms are still twitching, dragging itself forward in a grotesque imitation of life.

Yeonjun’s breathing stops entirely, his chest barely rising and falling. He’s staring at them, wide-eyed, body tense. You step up and place a hand on his shoulder. The touch makes him flinch.

"Shhh," you whisper, barely audible. The last thing you need right now is anyone making noise. One sound, one slip-up, and the infected will be on you. "Move. Eyes front—Don't… do not look at them."

He does not respond at first, you’re not even sure if he’s even hearing you. His eyes check the infected again, then back to the ground. He swallows. Finally, he nods, voice tight, "Yeah."

You give him a push on the back, enough to get him moving. It was a relief to see Yeonjun walking. You exhaled slowly, locking eyes with Do-hyun. He'd seen it all. That look between you two was enough to say it all: they weren’t ready for this. They hadn’t been told nearly enough.

Everyone kept walking, the building’s echoing silence wrapping around you as you neared the first level. It wasn’t far now—just out the main door, across the block, and then Beom-seok would be waiting for you on the road. The end was in sight.

"Shit!" Soobin’s voice is loud, his hands pressed against his chest in surprise. He hadn’t expected it. A woman, infected, eyes wide open, slumped lifelessly in a chair in the lobby. Her body was barely recognizable, rotting, the decay setting in.

No one moved. You spun around, doubt kicking in, scanning the lobby for any movement. Kai gripped Soobin’s hand tighter, his fingers digging in just enough. Soobin looked at him—a silent apology, a promise to do better.

It was only a minute, before Captain Joon finally moved. You stepped out of the building, the fresh air hitting you in a way that almost felt too good. The five newcomers, still adjusting to the chaos, kept their gazes fixed ahead, careful not to glance at the herd gathering in the open space nearby.

Then you saw him—Beom-seok. Leaning against the tires on the road, his eyes sweeping the distance, waiting. "Took you long enough," Beom-seok mutters, his eyes looking at you as he watches you approach.

One by one, everyone began climbing into the truck. Ji-ho caught your eye, giving you a quick signal to get in.

"Yeah? Are you bored or something?" Seo-jun shoots back, his tone teasing.

You gripped Ji-ho's hand, pulling yourself up the tall cargo bed. You paused, glancing down at Taehyun and offering your hand. He grasped it firmly, and with one smooth pull, you helped him up. He meets your gaze and gives a nod, a thank you.

Beomgyu was next, and Ji-ho was beside you, helping Yeonjun up. Kai and Soobin were already settled inside chatting quietly, and the truck was starting to feel a little more like a secure place.

You let your hand fall, but it only took a second for Beomgyu to extend his own.

Soft. Warm. It feels different somehow.

Beomgyu feels your hand—still shielded by your tactical gloves, but with the fingertips exposed. Even through the fabric, he can feel the warmth of your skin. It’s subtle, and for some reason, it’s enough to make his heart beat a little faster. You gripped his hand, pulling him up with the same ease as you did with Taehyun.

He’s finally out—the one they’d been stuck in, waiting, starving. Water was running low, food was practically gone and no electricity. It’s been days. Time blurred together in there. He’d tried his hardest not to let his emotions spill over, even when his mind kept replaying all the times he’d imagined getting out. All the moments he’d prayed for this. And now, it’s real.

He's here.

"Thank you," Beomgyu whispers, he hopes that somehow, those two words are enough for you to know.

"Sure,"

Beomgyu smiles wider as the fresh scent of grass hits his face. It’s a smell he never thought he’d miss, now it feels like a luxury—something he never realized how much he took for granted until now.

He turns his head to look at you, he feels his heart settle. Your head slightly leaned back against the rail, eyes closed in peaceful sleep. He fights the urge to nudge the soldier sitting next to you and tell him to move so you can rest your head somewhere more comfortable. He notices a shift in your face. Your brows furrow—a small frown begins to start on your forehead. Beomgyu's smile fade. The sight of you looking troubled, unsettles him for some reason.

Then, with no warning, the vehicle comes to a sudden halt, throwing everyone forward. It awakes you, and your eyes snap open, hands reaching for your gun.

"What now?" Eun-woo asks, stepping toward the window that connects to the driver's area, his voice tight with concern. You follow his gaze and your stomach drops. A fire. A huge fire, raging up ahead. And it looks like it's right where your team was supposed to drop off.

Yeonjun holds his nose at the smell of burning, smoke.

"Didn’t you radio them, Do-hyun?"

"I did, before we started heading back, Captain," You start mentally counting the minutes—five people eating, the time it took to pack up, and the drive back. It couldn’t have been more than two hours.

Two hours, and the fire’s already this big. "What happens now?" You hear Kai ask himself.

You don't have to look for long to spot them. Infected. They’re coming toward your truck—more than you can count. A mass of tumbling bodies, moving fast.

"Captain!" you shout, your voice sharp. "They are coming. Too many of them." Your words startle everyone in the truck.

Beom-seok’s hands twitch on the steering wheel, nerves on edge as he maneuvers the truck. His mind races, unsure of the next move. Where the hell should we go?

"Head for the nearest camp," Captain Joon orders, "Do-hyun, can you get through to them?"

"I'm trying," Do-hyun responds, fingers moving over the radio—silence greets him in return. The truck moves, and all of you watch the infected, filling the road behind.

Beomgyu watches the infected, slow, stumbling figures moving toward the vehicle. He knows they wont catch up—he knows they cant outrun it—still, his stomach churns.

"Are you okay?" Soobin asks, voice soft. He saw Beomgyu’s face when he locked eyes with the dead. "Try not to look at them," he suggests. It’s what Soobin does—keep his eyes away.

Beomgyu gives a shrug. "Isn’t avoiding them just going to make it worse?" he says, eyes still glued to the decaying figures. "I mean, I would like to be able to look at them without feeling like I’m about to throw up."

Soobin sighs, "We are getting out of here. Hybe did not let these people get us just to leave us hanging. There’s gotta be a place somewhere. Maybe we’ll even be able to go home, see our families again."

Beomgyu’s throat tightens at the mention of family, he swallows the feeling down. "What if we don’t, though?" he murmurs, "You saw the fire at the camp we were supposed to be at. Do you really think we’d have made it out? If we got there earlier…. do your really think we would have survived?"

Soobin’s heart clench at the question, he can't bring himself to answer. He does not want to think about it, but he knows Beomgyu’s right. Everything had seemed okay—until that overrun camp. The silence stretches, loud with unspoken fears.

Beomgyu’s hand starts picking at his nails, his gaze unfocused. "What if there’s no safe place left?" His voice cracks,trying his hardest not to think about his family.

"Stop." It’s you. You had been close enough to hear their whispers. "I’ll let you know if there’s no place anymore. Until I do, don’t think about it."

Beomgyu looks up at you, meeting your eyes for a moment. And just like that, the heaviness inside him lifts—just a little.

The vehicle comes to a halt by the side of the road, dust kicking up as the engine sputters off. Captain Joon looks ahead, eyes narrowing at the said camp he has in mind. It’s about a ten-minute walk from here.

"Still no response, Captain," Do-hyun reports, his fingers pressing anxiously on the radio. "Should I try reaching out to other units? They're farther out, but I can give it a shot."

Captain Joon does not look at him, eyes fixed ahead. "You can do that later. For now, we need to check this site first." He pauses, "It’s not wise for all of us to go. These five civilians stay here with a couple of you, the rest of us will move out."

Beomgyu catches the glint of your fingers as you reach for your gun, checking the magazine, clicking it back and then tightening your boot laces. There's no need for more words. The message is clear. You're going out, you're checking the place. You’re not going to sit around and wait.

"Y/N," Captain Joon calls out as you start climbing down from the cargo bed.

“I’m going with you,” you say, already strapping your gun across your shoulder. Without waiting for a response, you take a few long strides,, scanning the fields around you. The tall grass sways gently in the breeze. A few of the soldiers start following suit—Eun-woo, Ji-ho, and you catch the sound of their boots as they move behind you.

Captain Joon strides past, and you follow him, your boots crunching against the dry earth.

Beomgyu watches, his eyes never leaving your form as you move further into the distance. He can hear Yeonjun’s sigh beside him, but it did not make him look away. Instead, he counts under his breath, doing everything he can to keep you in sight until you’re too far to see.

The truck was quiet, the minutes stretching on as the remaining soldiers outside paced back and forth, keeping watch.

“I’m worried about Hiyyih,” Kai said suddenly, breaking the silence. His words drew the attention of the older guys around him, all seated close by.

“Do you think she got rescued too?” Kai asked, voice quieter now. “Or maybe…she made it out to Seoul when everything went like this?”

Taehyun reached over, giving the youngest's head a soft pat. “She is okay, Kai,” he said, “Once we get to the camp, we can ask the Captain,”

“Yeah,”

“Stop stressing about it, though,” Yeonjun chimed in, “We will figure it out soon enough.” Soobin stayed quiet, gaze fixed on some distant thought.

“They’re back,” Beomgyu said, his gaze darting between the road and the distant figures coming into view. He kept watching, squinting to make out their shapes as they got closer. Minutes passed, and the faces became clear: Captain Joon, two other soldiers… and you.

“They’re fewer than we expected,” Captain Joon announced as he reached the group, his voice steady but grim. “The camp’s still standing. We’ll spend the night there and wait for further instructions.” His words weighed heavy in the air. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to stay composed.

When you entered the place, the sight was sobering. Just over half a dozen soldiers were left. The others, you were told, had been sent out on missions—and none of their teams had returned. You shook the thoughts away, chalking it up to exhaustion. Fatigue was setting in, and all you wanted was a shower and some sleep. For now, this camp would have to do.

Adjusting the straps of your backpack, you glanced around and saw everyone gathering their belongings. You opened your gun case and checked the magazines, counting each one carefully. “We’ll need to do inventory soon,” you muttered, mostly to yourself.

Beomgyu caught your words and looked over, his eyes flicking from your face to the black case cradling the weapons.

Arriving at the camp on foot felt like walking into a ghost town. The only sign of life was… the small group of soldiers waiting, their tired eyes, makes the place feel even emptier. Captain Joon started barking orders, assigning tents to everyone. Your mind was fixed on one thing: rest.

“I’m going to shower and sleep. Wake me if I’m needed,” you told the captain, walking past him as he gave you a quick nod.

You headed to your tent, overhearing the arrangements for the five civilians. They’d be taking turns in the showers, then each also having a small tent of their own. Your own shelter was small, just as you’d expected. You set your things down, pulling out what you needed for the shower.

The shower area was sectioned off with a heavy curtain, its edges swaying slightly in the breeze. You pushed it aside and stepped in, letting the cool water wash over you. The sensation of the water running down your back. After finishing your routine, you reached for a towel and your robe. Once you’d changed into a clean military shirt and loose pants, you stepped outside, your hair still damp.

The camp was quiet, save for the crackle of a small fire in the center. A few soldiers sat around it—Yeonjun was eating, with Beomgyu and Taehyun seated beside him. Soobin, walking toward them, caught your gaze and gave you a respectful bow. Kai was likely in the showers, taking his turn.

Back at your tent, you dried your hair—hitting the makeshift pillow, your eyes drifted shut. It was harder to sleep that night.

Beomgyu jolted awake to the sharp crack of a gunshot. His chest tightened as he gasped, sitting up abruptly in the darkness.

BANG.

Another shot echoed through the camp, louder this time. He instinctively covered his ears, his heart pounding in his chest. The sound was close—too close. A flurry of gunfire followed, chaotic and all over the place. He froze as a shadow darted past the thin walls of his tent. His hands trembled as he forced himself to stand.

He fumbled for his pants, pulling them on as another scream tore through the night, quickly silenced by another gunshot. His mind raced. Should he go outside? Should he stay hidden?

Soobin. Yeonjun. Taehyun. Kai.

You.

The names rang in his head snapped him. He peeked through a small gap in the tent’s fabric, his breath hitching at the sight outside. Strangers—men he hadn’t seen earlier—moved through the camp. One of them hefted a sack of supplies over his shoulder, while others fired wildly at the soldiers.

Bandits?

The realization hit hard. These men were fighting the soldiers stationed at the camp, gunfire exchanged in rapid bursts. Beomgyu swallowed hard. His tent was further out than the others, which gave him a sliver of cover, but he knew he had to move. As he stepped out of his tent, a bullet zipped past him, close enough to feel the air shift against his cheek. He flinched, his heart hammering in his chest.

“What the—”

A scream drew his attention. A bandit, snarling and swinging his weapon, was overwhelmed by an infected lunging at him from the side. The sight froze Beomgyu in place, fear rooting him to the spot.

A hand clamped over his mouth, silencing the scream that threatened to escape. He turned sharply, eyes wide, only to see you staring back at him.

“We’re leaving. Or we’re dead,” you whispered, your voice urgent but low. Beomgyu hesitated, glancing toward the other tents. He wanted to go to the others, to check if they were okay, but you tightened your grip on his wrist, stopping him.

“They will see you,” you hissed. Behind you, the infected were starting to swarm the camp, drawn by the gunfire. Beomgyu felt a lump rise in his throat. Your hand dropped from his mouth, and you tugged on his wrist, shoving him back toward his tent. “Grab your things. Be fast.”

Beomgyu stumbled inside, adrenaline coursing through him as he grabbed his backpack. He hadn’t even unpacked yet, telling himself earlier he’d do it in the morning. Now, it didn’t matter. There wasn’t going to be a morning if he stayed.

When he stepped back out, you were watching the bandits, your jaw clenched. He noticed your backpack already slung over your shoulder. The white shirt you’d worn earlier was still visible beneath a hastily thrown-on jacket, paired with cargo pants and sturdy boots.

“Come on,” You started moving, weaving through the shadows with practiced steps. Beomgyu followed—heart heavy and torn as he glanced back toward the other tents.

His four brothers weren’t with him.

Beomgyu’s feet ached with every step. He had been trailing behind you for what felt like hours, though it couldn’t have been more than fifty minutes. Your strides were quick, far faster than he could have imagined for someone with shorter legs than his. He had no idea where you were leading him, and the darkness of the woods only made it worse.

Shadows stretched long between the trees, and every crackle of leaves underfoot made his heart jump. But then you turned back to look at him, your face briefly influenced by the moon's light—it was just a quick check to make sure he was still behind—and somehow that was enough to keep him moving.

Finally, you stopped in front of a towering tree. Its trunk was wide and strong, the kind that seemed to have stood for centuries. You tilted your head up to inspect it, then turned back to him. “This will do. We’ll climb up here,”

Beomgyu blinked, his gaze sweeping nervously between you and the tree. Climbing? He had never climbed a tree before—not even as a kid. But the alternative—staying on the ground, exposed to the infected, or people that might be lurking—was far worse.

“O-okay,” The two of you did not know where you were going—or how far you still had to go—but at least up here, you could catch your breath. He watched as you point toward the bark, signaling for him to go first.

“Here,” you said, tapping a sturdy-looking notch just above your reach. “Put your foot here.”

“You sure it’ll hold?”

“It will, trust me.”

Beomgyu swallowed hard and placed his foot on the notch. It felt solid, but the uneven texture of the bark made him wobble slightly. He grabbed the trunk for balance, his fingers scraping against the rough surface. “Here, grab this branch,” you guided him, pointing to a solid-looking limb.

The bark was rough, but he held on, his muscles trembling. The tree swayed just a little under his weight, the rustling leaves made him think that the whole thing might give way. But it didn’t. With a grunt, he hoisted himself, settling into a spot that felt stable enough to hold him. The height gave him an odd sense of relief—He looked down at you, his fear replaced by a grin.

“This is so cool,” The horrors of the night melted away. You smirked, shaking your head as you reached for the first branch, beginning your own ascent. Beomgyu’s gaze stayed on you, his hands hovering slightly as if wanting to help but unsure how.

When you were nearly at his level, reaching for a branch to pull yourself up, the wood suddenly gave way with a sharp crack. Making you slip. “Shit!” Beomgyu lunged toward you, his hands finding your elbow just in time. “I-I—What do I do?!”

“Can you not panic like you’re the one about to fall?” you snapped, though your voice lacked real bite.

“Right!” he stammered, his grip tightening. You grasped his other outstretched arm, and with one strong pull, he managed to haul you up. The force of it sent you toppling forward, landing squarely against him. For a second, everything went still. Beomgyu’s breath hitched as he looked up at you, your face inches from his.

You could feel the warmth of his body against your chest, see the subtle freckles and barely-there moles on his skin that you hadn’t noticed before. His gaze flickered to your lips.

In a swift motion, you pushed yourself off him—brushing the dust and bits of bark from your clothes, you avoided his eyes. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak just yet.

An hour had passed since the two of you settled. Your back leaned towards the tree and for a brief moment, you let your eyes close, though your mind raced.

Plans. Risks. Next steps.

“What’s the next plan?”

You opened your eyes, exhaling softly. “I’m planning to check back at the camp once the sun’s up,” you said after a moment. “From a distance. The infected were drawn to the gunfire, so I doubt they’ll stay there. But I need to see what’s left.”

Beomgyu nodded, “We should see if there’s anyone still there. Maybe stuck or hiding.”

You glanced at him and adjusted the rifle slung across your chest. The weight of the handgun in your pocket and the knives strapped to your thighs felt heavier.

“We’ll try to track them too,” you said, then added quietly, “Or you could stay here and wait for me.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“Okay.”

Silence fell between you again, interrupted only by the faint rustle of leaves. Beomgyu broke it with a sudden thought. “I can’t believe people can kill each other just like that,” he said, voice with disbelief.

The words made you pause. Your eyes, previously shut, opened fully, and you turned your head slightly toward him. But you said nothing. “Why did they do that?” Beomgyu asked, his tone softer now.

You didn’t respond. Instead, you looked away, avoiding his gaze. His eyes—they were too brown, too soft for a world like this. When the silence stretched too long, he shifted uncomfortably, his ears flushing red. “I… I wanna thank you. For bringing me with you,” he said, shyly. “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Sleep,” you said, brushing his gratitude aside. “I’ll keep watch.”

“I do think I can,” he admitted, rubbing his neck. "I swear I can still hear the gunshots in my ears.” You sighed. Sleep wasn’t an option for you either.

Beomgyu hesitated before speaking again. “Can I ask you something?”

“You already did,”

His face flushed deeper. “I mean… another question.”

When you didn’t respond, he continued, “Why are you the only woman in your team?”

Your eyes flicked to him, one brow raising slightly. “Are you implying there shouldn’t be one?”

“No! God, no,” he said quickly, his hands flailing slightly as he stumbled over his words. “I mean, it’s just—wow. It’s amazing.”

“That a woman can do a man’s job?”

“No—yes—no!” Beomgyu groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I just mean, like… it’s impressive. Especially since women aren’t even required to go through military service. But here you are, and you’re killing it—uh, not literally—well, maybe literally, but—”

You studied his flustered face for a moment before cutting him off, “I get it,” you said, watching as relief washed over him. “I think I was just… born for this. I can’t imagine myself doing anything else.”

“That’s… cool,” he murmured, nodding slowly. You hummed, leaning your head back against the tree.

“I don’t think I can imagine myself doing anything else either,” Beomgyu said, thoughtful. He stared at his hands, a small smile tugging at his lips. You watched him for a second longer than you meant to.

“That’s cool,” you echoed his words, earning a laugh from him. His smile widened, his laugh soft but real, and it lit up the darkness around you. Even his laugh—

It made you look away, your chest tightening. His smile—it was dangerous.

Beomgyu turned his gaze to you, studying your profile. The way your lashes caught the faint moonlight. Beautiful, he thought.

“How old were you when you joined the military?” he asked, randomly. Your expression froze, startled by the question.

“What?”

“I mean, if it’s okay to ask,” he said, tilting his head slightly, his tone careful. “You don’t have to—”

You swallowed hard, a lump forming in your throat. That question—it wasn’t one you wanted to answer again. Not now. Not ever.

“Close your eyes and rest,” you said flatly, “We’re done talking. The dead might hear us.”

The other one's face fell.

The sunlight was warm against Beomgyu's face, pulling him from his sleep. He blinked a few times, squinting at the brightness, trying to shake off his muzzy state.

"Hey, sleeping beauty." You say, "If you want to come, we need to go. Now."

He turned to see you already packing up, tossing a protein bar his way without looking. He barely caught it, fumbling it in his hands before managing a weak, “Thanks.”

"Let's go." You unscrewed your water bottle and took a quick drink before slinging your gear over your shoulder. Without waiting for him to respond, you started climbing down from the tree. Beomgyu followed, the descent easier than the nerve-wracking climb up last night, his legs still felt stiff from the awkward position he’d slept in. His feet hit the forest floor, and he took a deep breath. The woods in daylight were almost beautiful painting everything in shades of green.

He yawned, unwrapping his protein bar as he fell into step behind you. The two of you walked in silence, his eyes wandering over the scenery. It was hard to reconcile how peaceful the forest looked with the gnawing fear in his gut. About twenty minutes in, you suddenly stopped, your hand shooting up in a signal. Beomgyu, distracted, nearly walked into you.

“Infected,”

He followed your line of sight and spotted it—a man-shaped figure stumbling through the trees, its feet dragging awkwardly. The distance between you and it was still considerable.

Beomgyu glanced at you, his eyes wide. “How did you even see that?” he whispered. “I wouldn’t have noticed it until it was right in front of us.”

You ignored the question, “You haven't done this yet, so now’s the time to learn.”

Now, the words struck him awake. He’d known this was coming—he wasn’t naive—but he hadn’t expected it to be now. “Are you sure? Shouldn’t we find, I don’t know, somewhere more open for this?” He couldn’t help the nervous edge in his voice. Just weeks ago, his biggest challenge was memorizing their group's choreography.

“This is the perfect place to practice,” you said, not bothering to look at him.

He hesitated, shifting on his feet. “I mean, I’m not scared or anything, but—”

“Scared?” you interrupted, finally turning to him with a raised eyebrow.

“No. Let’s just get it over with.”

You nodded, pulling a knife from your belt and handing it to him. The weight of it in his hand felt foreign. He stared at the blade, the black handle smooth, well maintained. His eyes caught the faint etching of your name on it.

“Grip it like this,” you said, adjusting his grip. Your hands were firm, guiding his fingers into place. “Keep your thumb here for control. When you strike, aim for the head and use enough force so you don’t have to do it twice.”

He nodded, his throat dry. "Go in when I say.”

The infected was closer now, its groans louder, its movements jerky and unnatural. You gestured for him to move to the left, opposite of where you were going. He obeyed, his steps hesitant.

You moved quickly, drawing its attention. Beomgyu couldn’t take his eyes off you as you circled it without second thoughts or any fear.With a sharp kick, you knocked its legs out from under it. The infected collapsed to its knees, and you pressed your boot into its back, holding it in place. “Come here,”

Beomgyu swallowed hard, the knife trembling in his hand as he approached.

“Kill it,” you instructed, tilting the infected’s head to expose its temple.

His heart pounded as he raised the knife. He brought it down, but his strike lacked strength, and blade only sank halfway in. The infected howled, its hands clawing weakly at the air. “Y/N, I—what do I—”

“Again,” you cut him off, grabbing his other hand and placing it on the knife. “Use both hands if you have to. Pull it out and try again. Harder this time.”

He did as you said, the knife coming free with a sickening squelch. Blood splattered onto his hands, warm and sticky, and he nearly gagged. Clenching his teeth, he raised the blade again and drove it down with all his strength. The groaning stopped, the infected falling silent.

You let the body slump to the ground, standing up as Beomgyu stumbled away, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. He made it to the nearest tree before doubling over, the contents of his stomach spilling onto the forest floor.

Tears pricked at his eyes as he wiped his mouth. That infected—it wasn’t just a monster. It had been a person once, a living, breathing human being. Maybe they had a family waiting for them, a home filled with memories, or a life they’d worked hard to build. Maybe they’d been on a vacation or rushing to work the day the world fell apart.

Beomgyu’s breath hitched—he was the one who ended them, the one who took what little remained of their existence. He never imagined his life would come to this—how could he? Just a month ago, his world had been with roaring crowds, and music that echoed through stadiums. He’d been smiling at cameras, shooting music videos, and waving to fans who looked at him like he was untouchable, someone larger than life.

You crouched next to him, holding out a piece of cloth. He stared at your hand for a moment before taking it —your hands looked smaller than his, fragile—he wipes the blood on his trembling fingers.

How? How could you—manage to do all of this?

“You ended its suffering,” you said quietly, hesitant. “That’s how I try to think of it.”

“Does it get easier?”

“Never.”

It was just a single word, but somehow, it felt like a glimpse—Beomgyu feels closer. It felt like he knew you just a little bit better.

The two of you continued toward the overrun camp, the knife you’d lent Beomgyu still in his hands. For all the danger the weapon symbolized, it seemed to bring him a strange kind of comfort, his grip on it much more familiar.

Another walker crossed your path, Beomgyu stepped forward, more sure of himself this time. With just a little guidance from you, he managed to take it down.

Familiarity.

When you reached the backside of the camp, low growls echoed from ahead. Slowly, you leaned out to peek, careful not to make a sound. About a dozen infected, just as you expected.

And just as you'd predicted, the bandits had left too, leaving nothing behind but destruction. You moved, glancing over your shoulder to check on Beomgyu. He was scanning the area, his movements mirroring yours. That small action made your chest swell with pride.

He's learning. He's trying. And most of all, he's here—for his friends.

Together, you began checking the tents, moving smoothly and silently. Nothing. No survivors. But you found a few supplies—military rations, protein bars, ammo and some guns. Grabbing a duffel bag, you started packing up. Beomgyu helped in without hesitation.

Halfway through the camp, Beomgyu froze. His eyes locked on something ahead. That’s when you saw it too.

BEOMGYU, KAI, WE GOT OUT. WITH THE OTHERS. WE’RE HEADING TO THE JEONJU CAMP. STAY SAFE. SB, YJ, AND TH.

“They got out,” Beomgyu said, his voice breaking the silence. Relief washed over him, lifting some of the weight he’d been carrying. Kai wasn’t with them yet, but this was hope. He would find Kai too. He’d see this message too. “I knew it!”

He spun around to face you, a grin breaking across his face. He pumped his fist in the air, silently cheering as if he’d just hit the jackpot. That boyish smile, dimples and all, made him look so much younger.

And then, he saw it—a faint, fleeting curve of your lips.

His laugh bubbled out, soft and genuine, as he ran toward you, nearly tripping over his own feet in excitement. You're perfect, he thinks, the thought hitting him as naturally as breathing. You try to step back, caught off guard, but it’s too late.

It’s already too late.

“I freaking knew it,” he said, his arms around you warm, his chin resting on the top of your head. You stood frozen, your hands awkwardly at your sides, nodding stiffly.

“I told you,” he whispered. When he finally steps back, his eyes search your face, the smile he’d seen just moments ago is already gone. You look away, avoiding his gaze, and the sudden absence of it—leaves an ache in his chest.

He wants to see it again.

“Let’s wrap this up and circle outside the camp,” you say, pulling the zipper closed on the duffel bag you’d packed full. “We need to check if Kai’s lingering nearby. And we’ll need to secure a vehicle too. We’re in Daejeon—its a long way to Jeonju.”

“Thank you.” Beomgyu’s voice is quiet, and his cheeks flush red as he remembers his earlier outburst—the way he’d hugged you without thinking. Maybe it was the relief from the message, or maybe it was just seeing you smile at him for the first time.

“Why do you think they’re in Jeonju?”

“Probably got a radio response,”

He nods, falling in step behind you as you heft the duffel bag over your shoulder. Beomgyu quickens his pace, catching up to you. He tugs the bag from your hands. “Let me take this,”

The two of you stepped out of the tent, the silence heavy between you. You were nearing the camp’s edge when Beomgyu noticed you slowing down, your steps faltering.

Seo-jun.

His movements were slow, his hands trembling as he stumbled forward. He's looking at you. Seo-jun’s blood-soaked uniform and gaping bite on his neck entered your vision. Gunshot wounds riddled his chest—a soldier’s final stand. He had fought. Hard. For his team. For everyone.

"Y/N?" Beomgyu’s voice broke through the haze, soft but urgent. He noticed that you had stopped, your gaze fixed on the infected figure ahead. He squinted, and his heart sank when he realized it was someone from your team.

Seven years. You had known Seo-jun for seven years. You had planned to make things right with him, to talk, to reconcile. But how could you now? How could you fix things when he was already lost? You tried to blink away the moisture from your eyes.

“Am I ever getting a break?” you muttered to yourself, the words bitter. "Even here, you find a way to mock me, Seo-jun."

Beomgyu could hear the shakiness in your voice, the rawness in the way you spoke. He listens.

You couldn’t leave him like this. Alone in his lifeless form, wandering endlessly. He deserved more than that. “Come on, you shit,” you muttered, your throat tightening as you stepped forward, reaching for your knife. But you froze.

Around his neck, alongside his dog tags, hung another set. Min Ju-won’s. Even at the end, Seo-jun had carried that burden, blaming himself for something you both knew wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t let it go, not even in death.

Beomgyu moved before he could think. He didn't know if it was the look in your eyes or the way your hand trembled, but he knew one thing: he couldn’t let you do this. While Seo-jun was distracted by your figure, Beomgyu raised his weapon. Just as you had taught him hours ago, he aimed for the head.

Seo-jun’s body crumpled to the ground. Beomgyu guided him down gently, almost reverently. From his backpack, Beomgyu pulled an extra jacket. Without a word, he draped it over Seo-jun’s face. It wasn’t much, but it was the only dignity he could offer.

When he stood, his eyes met yours, raw and glistening with emotion.

“Why—” Your voice cracked, unable to finish the question.

“He was your friend,” he said quietly. “I'm not going to let you do that. Not while I’m here.”

Friend.

That single word shattered whatever fragile wall you’d been holding up. A tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it, and you quickly wiped it away with your hand.

“He’s not suffering anymore,” Beomgyu added softly, his hand gently brushing the top of your head—you avoided his eyes, yet again. “He’s not suffering,”

He bent down to grab the duffel bag he’d dropped earlier, slinging it over one shoulder. Then, he reached out, his hand wrapping around your wrist.

“Let's get out of here.” He pulled you forward.

Beomgyu's hand didn’t leave yours until the two of you were far beyond the camp.

"Hey," you called out to Beomgyu, who was busy checking a nearby car. "This looks fresh—like it hasn’t been here long." He made his way over, and you held out—a baseball, cap.

"Wait," Beomgyu said, eyes widening as he took it. Turning it over in his hands, he inspected it closely. "This… this is Kai’s,"

When you looked at him, a small smile was already spreading across his face, lighting up his features like it always did.

Beomgyu… he was so easily moved by the smallest things. It didn’t take much to make him smile. Or maybe it wasn’t that simple. Maybe it was because he loved his brothers, that even the smallest sign of them was enough to give him something to hold onto.

You dropped your gaze when his eyes met yours and moved toward the next car, pretending. But your thoughts refused to stay put. Here you were again, thinking about him—about his silly antics.

In the past twelve hours, it felt like he’d done nothing but occupy your mind. Every small moment with him clung to you. The way his voice softened when he spoke—The way he’d quietly ask, “You okay?” as if you were the one who needed saving.

After Seo-jun—he hadn’t said a word about it. No awkward condolences, no probing questions. Just silence—the kind you needed. Like he just… knew. No one had ever been like this—this careful, this kind. No one had ever looked at you the way he did, with eyes that were too brown and too full of something you didn’t want to name.

You didn’t like it.

You didn’t like it at all.

“I think Kai’s already ahead of us,” you bit into the bland military ration that was handed to you. “Heading towards Jeonju, if those tracks are anything to go by. He’s smart.”

“He is,” Beomgyu agreed, a small smile at his lips as he stirred the contents of his disposable pack. “He’s the calmest one too.”

“Then I guess we will see him there,” you said with a shrug. “Now all we need to do is find a working car.”

“A manual,”

“Hm.”

“That has gas in it.”

“Figures,” you muttered. “But that’ll be the easier part.”

Silence settled over the two of you again, it had become strangely common. You both ate, focused on the food. Every so often, you’d catch Beomgyu glancing your way, and flashes you his small, boyish grin on his face.

You tossed the empty pack toward a nearby car and wiped your hands on your pants. “It’s getting dark soon,” you said. “We should camp nearby and head out at first light.” Moving at night was usually the smarter option, especially with a vehicle and a full team. But here, now? Just the two of you, on foot, with no guarantee of shelter or backup—it wasn’t worth the risk.

Sticking to the woods was safer. The fewer infected—or people—you encountered, the better. You only ventured onto the road when there was a car worth checking.

In the fading light, a barn came into view. Its doors were wide open, silhouetted against the trees. You signaled Beomgyu to wait outside while you moved to secure the area. Inside, it was clear the owner had left in a hurry, taking most of what mattered. It was empty, save for a few odds and ends no one had cared to take—its enough for a temporary shelter.

“Looks good enough,” you murmured as you stepped back outside. Beomgyu nodded, already starting to unload your supplies. The discovery of a small lake nearby was an unexpected bonus.

“I’m going to wash up,” you said, gathering what you needed and slinging your gun over your shoulder. Beomgyu gave a slight nod, his eyes lingering on you as you walked away.

The water was cold, scouring away the dirt and sweat. You were quick, not wanting to leave Beomgyu alone for long. When you returned, your damp hair clung to your neck, and your skin was clean and slightly chilled.

“Your turn,” He glanced up, eyes flitting over your freshly washed face. His heart thudded hard in his chest. Cute, he thought, forcing himself to look away. Beomgyu nodded, grabbing his things and heading out to the lake. He came back just as fast, hair dripping but visibly refreshed.

You sat side by side on the makeshift bedding, neither of you saying much. Beomgyu’s soft breathing enters your ears—hand rested close enough that you could almost feel its warmth against your skin.

You found your eyes beginning to close with peace you hadn’t realized you were still capable of feeling.

Beomgyu woke up, immediately turning to his left. There you were, curled up on your side, the rise and fall of your chest visible in the dim space. He stared, mesmerized—it was the first time he’d ever seen you asleep. You looked… soft. A side of you he never thought he’d witness.

He shifted. The urge to pee was becoming unbearable. Careful not to wake you, Beomgyu slipped off and crept toward the barn door. The cold air hit him as he stepped outside, wrapping his arms tightly around himself for warmth. He scanned the area just like you’d taught him—ears tuned to every sound. Nothing.

He let out a breath of relief and headed to a nearby tree. Unzipping his pants, he took care of business quickly, the chill urging him to hurry. After he finished and zipped back up, a faint rustling behind him made him stop. Before he could turn, a large, rough hand clamped over his mouth, oppressing his scream. Another arm locked around his neck, pulling him back against a solid chest.

“Shut up if you value your life,” a low, gravelly voice growled against his ear. The man holding him inhaled deeply near his hair, a disgusting, exaggerated sniff. “Freshly washed. You’ve got a place nearby, don’t you?”

Beomgyu’s eyes darted ahead, and his stomach dropped when three more men stepped into view. Each held a weapon—a bat, a knife, and worst, a pistol. The man restraining him gives a rough shake, his breath hot and foul. “Don’t make me ask again. Where’s your camp?”

Beomgyu shook his head violently, panic blooming in his chest. He couldn't—he wouldn't—lead them back to you. The thought of them finding you, sleeping and unaware—this was his fault. He should have been more careful.

The man growled in frustration. “Y' think this is a joke?” he spat, hardening his chokehold. Beomgyu’s throat made a strangled sound as he gasped for air. The man with the knife stepped forward, expression predatory. “Maybe this will help him remember,” he said, pressing the blade against Beomgyu’s cheek. The sharp metal bit into his skin, not enough to draw blood, but enough to make him wince.

“There’s a barn ahead,” the one with the baseball bat said,“Think that’s it?” Beomgyu’s reaction betrayed him—his wide eyes and the flash of fear gave them all the confirmation they needed.

“Yeah,” the man holding him laughed darkly, “that’s it.”

Before Beomgyu could resist, they forced his hands behind his back and bound them tightly, shoving a cloth into his mouth to stifle any protest. He struggled, but it was no use—they yanked him forward, dragging him roughly toward the barn. And he knew exactly where they were taking him. To you.

“Fucking hell,” the man holding Beomgyu growled, his gaze shifting to your sleeping figure inside the barn. A dark grin tugged at his lips. “Is this what you’re so scared of? Afraid we’ll take her away from you?”

Beomgyu thrashed, desperate to scream, to warn you, but the cloth bound tight in his mouth smothered any sound. The group moved closer, one of them stepping forward to push the barn door open. The large, old door creaked. It wasn’t loud, but it was enough to wake you.

Your eyes snapped open, adjusting to the figures looming at the entrance, shadows that didn’t belong. Your hand reached for the gun nearby. The glint of their weapons caught your eye as they aimed at you in return.

“Sweetheart,” the tallest man drawled, stepping forward. His tone was mocking, dangerous. He shoved someone in front of him—Beomgyu. Your breath hitched as your eyes locked onto his. His face was pale, streaked with dirt and tears, and a raw red mark marred his cheek. His wide, terrified eyes pleaded with you.

Red.

“What the fuck do you want, asshole?” You cocked your gun, the sharp metallic click echoing. One of them flinched. Good.

The leader sneered, shoving Beomgyu roughly to the side. He tied him to a post like he was nothing more than an animal. Your jaw tightened as you watched the way they manhandled him, your fists clenching around the gun. When he was done, the leader turned back to you, whistling low at the deadly glare you levelled at him. His cocky smirk only deepened.

“You look loaded,” he said, his eyes flicking to the bags by the wall. “And since you asked so nicely, we’d also like to take turns with you, sweetheart.”

Beomgyu shook his head violently from where he was tied, his muffled cries useless against their laughter. His chest heaved, panic consuming him as the men began to advance on you.

“We’re lucky you’re here,” the leader continued, leering. “If we didn’t have a choice, we’d take the boy instead. He’s got such a pretty face, after all.”

Red.

All you saw was red.

Your vision blurred as rage consumed you. You let one of them grab your gun without resistance. It didn’t matter.

You'll kill them all.

The leader was close now, grabbing a fistful of your hair to tilt your head back. His face was inches from yours, his smirk as disgusting as the words spilling from his mouth. “What’s the matter, sweetheart? No fight left in you?”

You smirked—just a little. It was enough to confuse him, before he could react, your teeth sank into his throat. Hard.

It was a spot right where you knew it would hurt most. A pressure point. His scream ripped through while he stumbled back, clutching at the gaping wound with blood pouring through his fingers. The bitter, metallic taste flooded your mouth, but you didn't stop. You grabbed the gun he dropped as he fell and turned, firing without hesitation.

BANG.

The man who had taken your gun didn’t even have time to aim before he hit the ground.

“Fuck—” one of them snarled, charging at you. Before he could get too close, your foot sweeped his legs out from under him. He hit the ground with a grunt.

BANG.

You aim your gun and pulled the trigger on his face. The man with the bat.

Pain exploded in your shoulder, a gunshot tearing through your flesh, but you didn’t flinch. His mistake wasn’t pulling the trigger; it was not aiming for your head like you aimed for his.

BANG.

The leader gurgled, blood bubbling up from his lips as he stared at you in disbelief. “Monster—” he chokes on the floor, his hands futilely gripping his shredded throat. His blood pooled beneath him as he sputtered his last, trying and failing to form a single word. “You—”

BANG.

You stared at the four lifeless bodies beneath you, the gun in your hand began to feel impossibly heavy. Blood clung to your shirt like a second skin, still warm, sticky. Your mouth tasted metallic, your hair a disheveled mess from the earlier struggle.

Behind you, Beomgyu sat slumped against the post, trembling. He’d watched everything—every deafening shot, every life you’d taken to protect. His body flinched with each pull of the trigger. Now, his tears streamed freely, but not out of fear. No, this wasn’t fear.

He was crying because you had to do this.

Sobbing around the cloth still gagging him, his muffled cries echoing in the now-silent barn. You moved, steps distant, as if someone else controlled them. You crouched down and began untying the ropes binding Beomgyu to the post. His breath hitched as your fingers worked the knots, your hands stained with blood that was not yours. The ropes fell loose. Beomgyu searched your face, desperate for some sign of emotion—but your eyes were blank, lost.

Before he could speak, you stood, bolting toward the barn door. Beomgyu panicked. He hiccuped, scrambling to his feet, his legs weak from being tied up for so long. “Y/N!” he tried to call, but his voice cracked. His head spinning.

You were gone. Were you leaving him? He looked around frantically, his feet faltering as the barn opened into the cool night. He couldn’t lose you. Not now.

Beomgyu finds you at the small lake nearby, kneeling in the water. The cold ripples lapped at your clothes, soaking them, but you didnt seem to notice. Your hands scrubbed furiously at your arms, over and over, like you were trying to erase your own skin. “Y/N,”

“Y-You were shot,” he said, voice cracking. His eyes darted to your shoulder, blood had begun to seep through your shirt.

You gasped for air, your chest squeezing with every shallow breath. No matter how hard you tried, it felt like the air couldn't reach your lungs. Your hands clutched your face as if you could physically hold yourself together—thoughts raced through your mind, loud and suffocating. The world around you blurred and warped, slipping further and further from your grasp.

You killed them.

“Y/N—” Beomgyu’s voice broke through. “Breathe—”

You barely registered him.

“Can you—”

“Look at me!” he shouted, louder this time. Hands cupping your face, trembling as much as yours. “Baby, look at me.” Your eyes darted up, locking onto his. Your tears spilled down your face.

“That’s it,” he said, his voice softening, “Just keep looking at me, brave girl.” You leaned into him, your weight heavy against his chest. His soft voice leads you.

“Okay,” he said, his forehead brushing yours gently. “I need you to help me out. Can you do that?” You nodded weakly in his arms.

“Good. Start with five things you can see. Anything, okay? Just tell me five things.” Your gaze darted, focusing on anything you could name. “The tree,” you whispered shakily. “The grass. The water. Your tears. And…you.”

“That’s it,” he said, “Now, four things you can touch. What are they?”

“Your hands,” you murmured, your fingers twitching against his. “The water. My hair. And…stones.”

“Perfect,” he said, his thumbs now against your cheeks. “What about three things you can hear?” You breathed deeply this time, the cloud in your head beginning to lift. “The wind. The water. And you.” His lips curved into the smallest, most fragile smile. “Two things you can smell?”

You hesitated. “The blood,” you admitted, voice cracking. “And…the trees.”

“One thing you can taste.”

You swallowed hard, finally meeting his eyes fully. “Metal,” you whispered, voice barely audible.

"You did it." Beomgyu’s voice trembled, his hands cradling your face with a gentleness that only made the tears come faster. He does his best to brush them away. "Thank fuck."

“Beomgyu,” his name on your lips slips out barely more than a whisper. Forehead pressed against his shoulder, your arms wrapping around him slowly, shakily, until they found their place on his back.

There's a soft press of lips against your temple, warm and fleeting.

He helped you wash the blood off your body, his hands careful, never lingering longer than necessary. His gaze flicked to yours every few seconds, searching for some sign of permission—or maybe for you to tell him to stop. But you didn't. You can't, not when his eyes held that pleading look, soft and desperate, as if this was the only way he could help you carry the weight of what had happened.

When it came time to clean your face, you stopped him with a slight shake of your head. He didn’t argue.

Later, he examined the gunshot wound on your shoulder, gently turning you to check for an exit wound. Relief flickered across his face when he found one. “It’s nothing I can’t handle, had this more than I can keep track of.” you replied. His head snapped up, disbelief written all over his features.

The two of you walked back to the barn in silence, clothes damp from the lake. Your hands swung loosely at your sides, brushing his once, then twice, until Beomgyu hesitantly reached out and took your hand in his. You didn’t pull away.

“You can wait here,” he said softly when the barn came into view. “I’ll grab our things. We need to leave—someone might’ve heard.” You nodded, understanding without him saying it: he didn’t want you to see the bodies again.

Within minutes, he returned with your bags. You rummaged through yours, finding fresh pants and underwear but no shirt. “Do you have a shirt?”

“I do,” He's already handing it to you.

“Thanks.”

Slipping it over your head, you caught the faint scent of him—musky, with a subtle sweetness. It suited him.

The two of you moved to a nearby tree, settling under its shadow. The world was still dark, the night stretching on endlessly. You sat beside him, his shoulders side by side with yours.“Can you say it again?”

“What?”

“My name,” he said, clearing his throat awkwardly. You noticed the tips of his ears reddening. “Like you did earlier.”

“No,”

He chuckled, his gaze falling to where your hands rested in your lap. “As I expected.” When you did not respond, he ventured another question. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“What about it?”

“Was that your first t—”

“It wasn’t,” you cut him off, your eyes fixed ahead. You didn’t know why, but the words kept coming. “I’ve killed before. Being a soldier in the war… it wasn’t a choice. Sometimes I even had to kill my own teammates.” You paused,“But this… it’s different. They were civilians.”

“You had to kill your teammates too?”

You turned to him, studying the calm expression on his face. His eyes—the same ones that had anchored you earlier—held no trace of distrust, even after your confession. “Why aren’t you freaked out by this?”

“Because I want to know you,” he said with a small shrug. “Believe it or not, I’ve always been a good judge of character—or at least, that’s what my mom used to say. Soobin, too.” He paused, his lashes casting faint shadows on his cheeks. “Ever since I met you, there hasn’t been a single thing you’ve done that I couldn’t understand.” The answer caught you off guard, made something in you falter.

"I had to kill them because they asked me to,"

“Then you're the strongest person I’ve ever met.” You didn’t know how to respond—you dont trust your voice not to break. How could he look at you like that after everything he’d seen? After all you’d done?

Minutes passed, when you felt him shift beside you, his arm lifting as he gently guided your head to rest on his shoulder. The warmth of him made it easier to close your eyes.

"You can rest now,"

“This one doesn’t work either,” Beomgyu called out from up ahead. You were still busy checking the car you’d been inspecting—never mind. It didn’t work, either.

“Should we just go on foot?” he asked, exasperation into his voice. It had been over a day of wandering and hoping to find a working vehicle. There’d been a few infected here and there, but sticking to the backroads had kept you from running into anything worse than a small group.

“It’s dangerous,” you replied without looking up.

Silence.

Beomgyu never let a comment slide without a retort, you know that by now. Heart thumping, you stepped out of the car and scanned the area, instincts on high alert.

“BAH!” He jumped out in front of you, doubling over with laughter so intense it sounded like he might choke. “You should’ve seen your face!” he managed between gasps. “It was so cute.”

“Are you done?”

Clearing his throat, Beomgyu grinned. It was just another one of his attempts to get on your nerves. He pulled something from his pocket—a dusty Polaroid camera he had found in one of the trucks. He flipped it open and checked the film. Two shots left. Without missing a beat, he raised it to his face and clicked the button.

You blinked, unimpressed. “Are you even checking the cars, or are you just running around pretending to be Dora the Explorer?”

Beomgyu smirked as the film began developing. “You watch Dora?”

“No.”

“You just mentioned her.”

“She’s famous.”

“So am I,” he shot back. “But you didn’t know me before this.”

“Are you seriously going to bring that up again?”

“Heh.” Beomgyu’s grin only widened. He could almost see it—the tiniest twitch at the corner of your lips before you turned away. Almost. It made his heart flutter in that stupid, uncontrollable way he hated admitting to himself.

As the photo developed, he glanced down at it. The image of you slowly came into view—you, standing in the middle of the road, hair pulled into a loose ponytail, staring at something out of frame with a faintly confused look on your face. “Beautiful,” he exhales.

If you looked this good now, how stunning would you be on a normal day?

If this were a normal day, Beomgyu would be all over you.He’d give you flowers every single day, just to make you smile. He’d buy you anything you wanted—or even things you didn’t know you needed. Love is effort. It's what his parents taught him. — And he’d give it, all of it. He’d take photos of you, even beg if he had to, make playlists for you, play games with you, anything.

He wondered if you’d be any good at FPS games. You were already a menace with a gun in real life, so you’d probably be terrifying in a match.

Maybe, if the world ever allowed it, he’d convince you to visit Daegu, his hometown with him. His parents would love you. His brother, too, though Beomgyu would definitely have to bribe him to keep his mouth shut about the massive crush he’d been harboring on you. Would you like… Toto?

Beomgyu stared at the camera in his hands. Who knows if he’ll ever get another moment like this—another chance—in a world as unpredictable as this one? The idea settles in his mind, and he doesn’t let himself hesitate. “Let’s take a picture together.”

You stopped in your tracks, turning to give him that deadpan, unamused stare—the one that always made Beomgyu bite back a grin. Another idea sparked his mind, “Okay, listen. After this, I promise not to mess around anymore,” He jutted his lower lip out just slightly, eyes pleading like a puppy who’d been caught chewing on a shoe.

“You promise.”

“Cross my heart,” he said quickly, nodding like his life depended on it. When you didn’t immediately reply, he skipped towards you. He knew this silence, too—your subtle little “yes” that didn’t require any words. He’d been observing you to pick up on your signals, even the smallest ones.

Without giving you time to change your mind, Beomgyu lifted the camera, stepped close, and pressed his cheek against yours. The faint warmth of your skin against his made his stomach flip, but he ignored it, snapping the picture before you could pull away.

You jerked back, shaking your head.

As the photo developed, Beomgyu stared at it, the edges curling faintly as the image sharpened. There it was—your face, with that same unamused look, your lips slightly pressed together like a daughter forced into posing for an overly enthusiastic mom. Beside you was him, the complete opposite—grinning like an idiot, dimples on full display, both your faces so close, touching.

Something about the contrast, about the way your expressions came together on that tiny square, made his heart do that stupid fluttering thing again. He tucked the photo into his pocket, alongside the other one.

He kept his promise and moved to the next car with you.

After three more hours of searching, you finally found a working car. Beomgyu let out an excited cheer, breaking into his little happy dance again. You tried not to smile, tried not to let his enthusiasm rub off on you—but, honestly, it was getting harder and harder to resist.

"Catch," you called, tossing the last bag to him. He caught it easily, stashing it in the backseat. Sliding into the driver’s seat, you glanced over as he settled into the passenger side. He looked so at ease there, sprawling out and fiddling with something on the dash. A passenger princess. Or was it prince? Either way, you could get used to him being there, looking peaceful for once.

You started the engine and pulled out onto the road, the car’s windows down to let in the cool breeze. As you drove, Beomgyu’s gaze drifted to your hair, your loose ponytail starting to come undone from the wind.

“Let me fix this for you,” he said, leaning over.

You felt his hands gently brush against your hair as he worked, careful not to distract you too much while you focused on the road. In the rearview mirror, you caught sight of his face—his brow furrowed in concentration, lips slightly parted. His fingers brushed against your neck as he gathered your hair, the touch light and deliberate. You could feel the care in the way he worked, securing the ponytail more tightly this time. "There."

When he finished, he leaned back, his hands falling to his lap as he took a moment to admire his work—admiring you. His gaze lingered, drinking in the curve of your face, the way your hands gripped the steering wheel just tight enough. He never felt safer than he did here, by your side. Somehow, in the middle of all this, he’d found his safe place.

His safe place.

“Try to get some sleep while I drive,” Beomgyu's unable to look away—you were right there in front of him, so effortlessly beautiful it made his heart ache. The soft curve of your cheeks, the faint flush that he couldn’t stop staring at—he wanted to reach out, to brush his lips against them, to trace the tip of your nose with his own.

In the short time he’d been alone with you—just forty-eight hours—it felt like he’d known you a lifetime. Like you’d been waiting there all along, someone he was meant to find. He wants to know more.

“Yeah, sleep. Sure.” He replies, words catching in his throat.

You’ve been driving for a while now. Beside you, Beomgyu was fast asleep, his soft snores fill your ears. A faint smile tugged at your lips as you glanced over, his head resting against the window, one hand tucked beneath it like a pillow.

The camp was close, maybe 15 minutes away. Just 15 more minutes before you’d be separated from him. The thought twisted something deep in your chest. Selfish. You knew it was selfish to feel this way. You barely knew him, and yet…

You glanced at him again, his face soft and unguarded in sleep. Everything else seemed to fade—the road ahead, the weight of your responsibilities, even the constant buzz of survival.

Survival.

Being with him didn’t feel like you were just trying to survive.

Him—who had no choice but to end up with you. You were about to leave that camp. You're already far. But when you saw him at that overrun camp, darting between tents with nothing but desperation and bad luck to shield him from the bandits, something inside you shifted. You just moved. Your feet carried you forward before your mind could catch up, before the voice of reason could stop you.

You didn’t know then that the next two days with him would chip away at the walls you’d built.

It was the little things, mostly. The way he insisted you eat first, even when food was scarce. The way he handed you the best parts of the military rations. How he seemed to know when the weight of the barn still lingered in your mind, distracting you with his terrible jokes or a question just long enough to pull you out of it. Or how he’d ask if you’d slept okay, like it mattered in a world where nothing really did.

And that smile he gives you—so easy, so genuine, even when there was no reason for it. Like he just couldn’t help himself. But now, it was ending. It had to end. You have to end it.

You tightened your grip on the wheel, staring hard at the road ahead. This was the right thing to do, the smart thing. You’d get him to safety, to people who could take care of him better than you ever could.

He didn’t belong out here with you, and you didn’t belong anywhere.

Survival.

There's nothing more that terrified you.

You spot the camp—Jeonju. It’s much bigger, with sturdy railings circling the perimeter to keep the infected out. The car rolls closer, the guards stationed on top of the walls notice you. A blinding floodlight clicks on. You know what that means: get out and identify yourselves.

“Beomgyu,” you say, shaking him awake. “We’re here. Wake up, dumbass.”

“Huh? Oh,” he mutters, the light strike his face. “Got it.”

“We’ll leave our stuff in the car for now. We just need to head up there and check in.” He nods, following your lead as you climb out. You raise both hands in the air, palms open. Beomgyu mimics you.

“State your business!” one of the guards calls down from the wall.

Before you can answer, you notice movement out of the corner of your eye. An infected, shambling closer—too close to Beomgyu. You’re already moving, boots hitting the dirt as you drive your foot into its chest and plunge your knife into its skull.

You step back into position, brushing some blood off your sleeve. “Park Y/N!” you shout up at the guard. “I report directly to Captain Joon. I’ve got Choi Beomgyu with me—a rescued civilian.”

You waited for ten minutes, at most.

The gates creak open, the panels sliding apart to reveal three soldiers stepping out, their rifles at the ready. One of them freezes, his eyes going wide. “That’s really Y/N from the Black Berets. Idiot.”

You ignore his outburst, your gaze cool as it shifts to his badge. “Can we go in now, Ji-min?”

The soldiers straighten instantly, snapping salutes in your direction. Two of them move toward the car, offering to grab your supplies. You give them a curt nod before turning to Beomgyu, only to find him already looking at you—his eyes, questioning.

“Is my team here?” you ask the soldier who stayed behind.

“Yes,” You glance back at Beomgyu. His stare now answered. Without another word, you both start to walk toward the gate.

Beomgyu’s eyes widened, his breath unstable after he spotted the four figures waiting inside. They were here. They were really here.

Before he could fully process it, Soobin’s tall frame sprinted toward him, Yeonjun and Taehyun close behind. He barely noticed you stepping aside to give them space, his entire focus locked on his brothers. The first embrace hit him like a floodgate bursting. Strong arms pulled him in, and the dam he’d tried so hard to hold together crumbled. He buried his face into the familiar comfort of Soobin’s shoulder, trying desperately not to sob. He had missed them. They had never left his mind—not once.

“Choi Beomgyu,” Soobin said, pulling back just enough to look at him. “Are you okay?”

Yeonjun’s hand came up to gently ruffle his hair, a comforting gesture that made the lump in Beomgyu’s throat harder to swallow. “You’re not hurt, right?”

Beomgyu shook his head, sniffling as he wiped at his face.

“You took your time,” Taehyun teased with a small smile. “Sorry we couldn't wait for you back there. It's impossible to get to you, but we really tried.”

“It does not matter,” Beomgyu replied quickly, “Wait—where’s Kai?”

“He’s not here yet,” Soobin admitted, voice pained. “But one of the soldiers saw him escaping with someone else—a soldier. They said he made it out.”

“That ambush was insane,” Beomgyu nodded, even his heart ached. He had to hold onto hope. Kai was strong—he’d make it. Maybe tomorrow, or the day after, Kai would walk through those gates too.

A sudden panic shot through him, his head snapping to the side. “What’s wrong?”

Beomgyu eyes scanned the cluster of soldiers nearby. Where are you? He finally spotted you, standing with Captain Joon. The older man looked serious, but there was a warmth in his demeanor as he clapped a hand on your shoulder. You said something to him, your expression calm. Captain Joon’s face softened, and for a moment, it looked like he wanted to pull you into an embrace.

“She’s been with you this whole time?” Yeonjun asked, surprised.

“Since the start,”

Soobin doesn’t wait. He steps forward, taking Beomgyu by the arm as Yeonjun and Taehyun fall in beside them. Together, the four approach you. You don't have time to register what’s happening before Soobin wraps his arms around you in a unexpected hug.

“Thank you,” he said, voice thick with emotion. “Thank you for bringing him back to us.”

You glance over Soobin’s shoulder, catching Beomgyu’s gaze. He’s watching you, his eyes soft and full of something unspoken—a warmth that makes your chest tighten. You manage a small smile in return, the corners of your lips curving just enough to acknowledge him. He gives back a grin, that makes his dimple appear.

Gently patting Soobin on the back, you step away. “How are you holding up?” you ask,“I heard Kai’s not here yet. But with Ji-ho looking out for him, I know he’ll make it. He’s capable.”

Your words seem to ease the tension in the group. Soobin nods, his shoulders relaxing slightly. Yeonjun offers a faint smile, and even Taehyun pats your shoulder.

“We’re managing,” Soobin says. “Just waiting to hear what Hybe’s next steps are.”

Captain Joon appeared beside you, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. “You’ve done enough for today,” he says. “Go wash up. Dinner will be ready soon.”

Beomgyu trails behind the other three, footsteps slower, reluctant. He looks back over his shoulder, at the direction you went—away from him, toward your own assigned space. This camp is massive, lined with rows of tents in all shapes and sizes, yet somehow, even with so many people around, Beomgyu feels unmoored without you nearby.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. You’ll need to change the bandage on your shoulder soon. He knows that, just like he knows you probably won’t bother unless someone reminds you. It’s always him who keeps track, who insists on helping you replace the worn-out wraps.

“Here’s your room,” Taehyun points to the tent ahead. Beomgyu steps inside, placing his things near the bed. It’s small but better—an actual mattress and even a tiny bathroom. He crouches by his bag, pulling out a fresh set of clothes for after his shower.

He tugs off his shirt, fingers brushed against the knife strapped to his belt. Slowly, he unhooks it, focuses on the small engraving on the handle—your name, etched deep into the worn metal. Would you want it back? Probably. The thought makes his pout, because he doesn’t want to let it go. Not yet.

He crosses the room and sets the knife carefully on the small table, almost tenderly, like it's an object meant for something more delicate than killing.

He showers with his heart feeling impossibly heavy.

Your hair was still damp from the shower, clinging to your neck as you ran a towel through it. Tugging a fresh pair of cargo pants up your hips, you reached for your shirt.

“You should always keep it wrapped as long as it’s not healed yet.” His voice echoed in your mind, unbidden.

“Fucking Choi Beomgyu,” you muttered, shaking your head as you grabbed the roll of bandages from the small supply pile nearby. “Always so annoying.”

Your fingers worked quickly, wrapping the fresh bandage around your shoulder. The wound looked much better now. Once you were satisfied it was comfortable, you pulled your shirt over your head and stepped out of your tent.

Your stomach growled in response with the smeel of cooking. A warm meal—finally. “Y/N!”

You turned at the sound of Yeonjun’s voice. He waved you over, seated with their small group near one of the campfires. Several other campfires are on the open space with large pots of food simmered over flames. “Sit down here,” Yeonjun offered, patting the spot on the log beside him.

You took the seat, extending your hands toward the warmth of the fire. Across, your eyes met Beomgyu’s. He was seated opposite you, quiet for once, his gaze flickering away as soon as it met yours.

Yeonjun handed you a steaming bowl of soup, carefully scooped from the pot. “Fill up. It’s good,” he said with a grin.

“Thanks,” you murmured, taking the bowl into your hands. You reached for a spoon, Soobin beat you to it, holding one out.

“We’ve been waiting for you,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact. “Let me know if you need seconds.”

You cleared your throat, a little thrown off by the casual care they offered. It wasn’t something you were used to.

The conversation around the fire swirled, voices rising and falling as they swapped stories. You ate in silence, letting the warmth of the meal soothe you. It had been so long since you’d had something like this. But one person wasn’t talking much. Beomgyu.

You coughed—ate a little too fast, the food catching in your throat. It has only been a second when a water bottle was offered.

“Drink up,” Beomgyu said, already twisting the cap off for you. He reached for your bowl, holding it steady so you could take the bottle from his hand. You took a sip, the cool water easing the discomfort. “Thanks,” you muttered.

“That’s right, Beomgyu,” Taehyun teased, smirking. “Take care of her. I’m sure she had to drag your sorry ass out there.”

“She did not!” Beomgyu blurted, his ears turning red.

“Oh, I bet she carried you on her back,” Yeonjun chimed in, clearly enjoying himself. “What? No way!”

“You probably teased her the whole time,” Taehyun added, grinning.

“I didn’t—”

“What a baby,” Soobin finished with a dramatic shake of his head.

Their teasing bounced around the fire, growing louder. Mixed with exaggerated groans as playful shoves sent shoulders bumping on the log seats. Beomgyu, red-faced and clearly at his limit, stomped his foot on the ground in mock frustration.

You couldn’t help it; a laugh escaped you, small at first but growing. You quickly covered your mouth with the back of your hand, your shoulders shaking as you tried to stifle it.

Beomgyu's wide eyes locked on you. You laughed. You finally fucking laughed. He feels his heart about to burst at the sweet sound.

“Oh-ho, look at her!” Soobin exclaimed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “The stress must’ve caught up with her. This is your fault, Choi Beomgyu!”

"Choi Soobin, you shi—," Beomgyu sputtered in protest, and more laughter joined with you.

It had been a week since that night by the fire. A week since Beomgyu arrived at the camp with you—and a week since he last saw you laugh like that. He could still picture it—your face by the warm glow of the fire, the soft orange light making you look almost ethereal. Did you know how exquisite you look when your eyes crinkle with joy? “Did you cut the vegetables, Beomgyu?” Yeonjun asked him as he pointed at the makeshift kitchen in the camp. “Yeah, I did,” he replied, tossing the emptied cans into the trash. He’d offered to handle it, trying to distract himself. Hybe still hadn’t contacted the military about their group, so they’d started helping around. The soldiers were reluctant at first, but Soobin had talked them into it. Now, they pitched in with small domestic tasks—delivering freshly laundered clothes from the women who washed them, cutting vegetables for the large communal meals, anything to stay useful. Beomgyu learned there were about forty-five people at the camp: nine civilians like them, eleven workers, and twenty-five soldiers. It had been a week since you’d spoken to him. A week since you’d even looked at him. Beomgyu tried. He really did. He’d tried to reach out. He started waking up early—a feat for him, someone who once detested mornings—he’d wait by the path, knowing it was your routine to jog at first light. But the moment he saw you, stretching with Do-hyun under the rising sun, his courage crumbled. Feet rooted to the spot, unable to move closer. He tried during meals too, sweeping his eyes on the tables, hoping to sit with you—but every time their group arrived, you were already standing, tray in hand, heading somewhere he could not follow. He even lingered around the grounds, pretending to have something to do. Sometimes, he felt a pair of eyes on him—heart leaping at the possibility it was you—but when he looked up, the space was empty. Eventually, he’d retreat to his tent, his shoulders heavy with defeat. It felt like you were avoiding him. Ignoring him. Do you hate him? Did he do something wrong? He lay awake most nights, staring at the canvas ceiling of his tent, replaying your moments together over and over. He could still feel the warmth of your hands. The memory of you in his arms—how perfectly you fit in it. Were you okay? Was your shoulder healing as it should? Were you eating enough? Sleeping well? Had he already become invisible to you? What is he to you anyway? A friend? Do you even consider him as one?

“You’ve been out of it these past days, Beomgyu.” Yeonjun’s voice broke into his thoughts, accompanied by a firm hand on his shoulder. His eyes searched Beomgyu’s face, concern evident. “What’s troubling you?”

“Nothing, I…” Beomgyu’s voice cracked as he tried to answer. He swallowed hard, looking away. “I guess I’m just… more tired than usual.”

“If you need to talk, let me know, okay?”

"When are you going to talk to him?" Do-hyun asked, breathless, as you pulled him to his feet after knocking him down for what felt like the hundredth time tonight. The moon guides your makeshift sparring circle. You hadn’t planned to spar with him; it just happened. Restless, you’d found yourself outside his tent, knocking like a ghost haunting its own grave.

You released his hand abruptly, stepping back at his words. “Let’s go again,” you said, more to yourself than to him.

Without waiting for a reply, you charged, throwing a closed fist at his right side. He dodged it easily, his laughter breaking the tense silence.

“You know, you’re way less terrifying when you’re distracted,” he teased, grinning at the glare you shot him. “Seriously, Y/N? How long are you gonna keep ignoring the boy? The guy’s trying so hard it’s starting to make me feel bad. If it were me, I’d have fumbled already—”

Before he could finish, you grabbed him by the neck, locking him in a chokehold. “I t-tap out! Fuck! You're going to kill me.” he wheezed, coughing as you let him go. He stumbled back, rubbing his neck. “Shit, I forgot how strong your grip is. For real, how are you not a man?” You didn’t respond. Instead, you wiped the sweat from your forehead, glancing at the clock. It was nearing 11 p.m.

“Reject the kid already, will you? Do him a favor so he can move on.” Do-hyun muttered, reaching for his water bottle. “You cold-ass woman.”

“He’s not a kid,” you said finally, your voice low but firm. Grabbing a towel, you wiped the sweat from your face. “He’s almost my age.”

“Sure,” Do-hyun replied, watching you closely as you drank from your water bottle, to the bags under your eyes. “Not sleeping again?”

You shook your head, capping the bottle and tossing it aside. “It’s harder these days.”

“I know,” he said, softer now. “But you’ve gotta try. I need to head out anyway—errands tomorrow. And honestly, I can’t take more knockouts from you. Have mercy.”

“Idiot,” you muttered, smirking despite yourself.

“You’re the idiot for ignoring—” You didn’t let him finish, rolling your eyes as you turned and headed for your tent. A quick shower later, you were lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. The camp quiet, your mind was anything but. Frowning, you closed your eyes, waiting for sleep to come.

It never did.

Beomgyu tossed onto his right side again, the thin mattress beneath him groaning in protest. He lost count of how many times he'd shifted since lying down, each movement more restless than the last.

His chest felt tight, like his heart was pounding against some invisible weight. He sat up, running a hand through his messy hair in frustration. His gaze wandered aimlessly, landing on the small table by his bedside. He froze.

Polaroids.

The universe must be mocking him for missing you this much. Did he really need more reminders?

He inhaled deeply, the sound sharp in the quiet of his tent. Standing abruptly, he began pacing, his feet brushing against the worn canvas floor as a single question churned in his mind: Should I see her? His eyes flicked to the clock—11:28 p.m. Were you even awake?

But then, what difference did it make? Another night of lying there, drowning in this ache, wasn’t an option. He just needed something—your face, your voice, anything.

That’s what he told himself as he stopped pacing, turning toward the small mirror propped against the tent’s corner. His reflection stared back, dishevelled and vulnerable in a way he hadn’t let himself feel in years. He raked his hands through his hair, trying to smooth it out, What the hell are you doing? he thought bitterly. You’re an idol for god’s sake.

But then again, you were… a goddess. And right now, none of the titles, pressure, his previous job or self-doubt mattered. It doesn't matter if you'll kick him out as soon as you see him.

What mattered was seeing you.

He stopped just short of your tent, staring at the outline of it. His breath hitched, and his body betrayed him as he turned away, a cowardly retreat already forming in his mind. But he only made it three steps before he falter, his fists clenching at his sides. No. Not tonight.

He turned back, counting the seconds in his head. He rehearsed the words he’d been forming for days now, words that felt too small for what he really wanted to say but would have to do. This had to count. It had to—

“I can see you out there, you know. What do you want?” The sound of your voice sent a panic through him. You sounded tired, a little annoyed. The shadows must have given him away—his pacing back and forth casting restless shapes against the thin fabric of your tent. “Do-hyun?”

“It’s… Beomgyu,” He countered quickly, the way you said another man’s name at this hour unsettling him more than it should. Silence. He braced himself for rejection, for the possibility that you’d tell him to go, that he's insane to be here at this hour, or that you didn’t want to see him.

But the truth is, your eyes are wide inside. He’s insane. What is he doing here? Why now? You stand up slowly, your fingers brushing the edge of your blanket. You can’t turn him away now. It’s too obvious. “Come in.”

Beomgyu that stood outside your tent, hand unstable when he finally pushed the flap aside. The sudden rush of light revealed you, standing there, your eyes locking onto his. For a minute, he forgot how to breathe. His eyes on your face like he was trying to memorize every line, every shadow. “Hi,” he said, it wasn’t how he had planned to start, but it was all he could manage.

You instinctively stepped behind, folding your arms across your chest as a barrier. “What is it?” You looked away, unable to meet his eyes. They were too much—too deep, too brown.

"Are you mad at me?" Beomgyu's voice wavers, cracking slightly as the words spill out. All those rehearsed lines, the ones he'd turned over in his head a thousand times, crumble into this raw, unpolished question.

"I-I— you’ve been ignoring me, Y/N. Don’t even try to deny it." His voice rises, “I called— I even called you out there twice, and I know you heard me.” He pauses, the lump in his throat refuses to go away. "Did I… do something? Something that made you mad at me?" The words are choked, his voice barely above a whisper now.

His eyes—glassy, rimmed red—look at you—he’s holding back tears; you can tell by the way his lips tremble slightly, the way he bites down hard on the inside of his cheek. But despite it all, he doesn’t look away. He can’t.

Not when he’s missed you this much.

"Beomgyu, whatever you think is between us," you let your arms fall limply to your sides, "it's nothing. This… this is just a mission. Soon, everything will go back to where it belongs." You pause, your words deliberate, heavy. "And we’ll never see each other again."

His eyebrows knit, disbelief etched his face. "Who decides that? Who says that?"

You exhale sharply, the weight of your own words pressing down on your chest. "It’s just how it is. That’s how it’s always been. You should surround yourself with people like you."

"I—" he starts, but you cut him off before he can unravel any further.

"Stop this." Your tone hardens, more defensive than you intend, but it’s the only way to protect yourself. "Don’t talk to me again, Beomgyu. Don’t seek me out. If you’re just… grateful for what happened, fine. I’ll accept that. And if you feel guilty about it?" Your voice cracks slightly, but you push through, "Then maybe… maybe you can pay me back someday. In the future."

Beomgyu’s lips trembled as he fought for his next words, his hands shaking. “Then tell me. Tell me, straight to my face, looking in my eyes, that you didn’t feel anything. That you don’t feel anything for me. That you’ll never like me, no matter what I do. Even if I…” His voice broke, a tear slipping down his cheek. “Even if I die trying.”

Everything you’ve held back finally spill over, and your voice comes out in a shaky whisper. "Dumbass."

“You can’t,” he said softly, eyes tracing the fall of your tears.

“What are—”

"I think I'm in love with you," he says, voice breaking on his confession. "I'm in love with you that I wonder how the hell I lived without you all these years. I’m so glad I met you, did you know that? If I’d known, I’d have counted down the days—even marked my calendar stupidly—just to know you were waiting for me at the end of it. And if I had a choice to go back in time, to stop this apocalypse before it happened, I wouldn’t do a damn thing. Because I’d lose the chance to meet you. Here. As insane as it sounds," His voice shakes, but he pushes on, "I won’t—I won’t force you…. to like me. That’s not what I want. But would it be selfish of me to ask you to stop acting like I'm not here? Like you don’t know me? I can’t…" He hiccups, shoulders shaking. "I just want to be part of your life, Y/N."

His words made you take a step forward, your hands trembling as you cup his tear-streaked face. He flinches at first, but then he melts into your touch, his breathing uneven. “I’m afraid,” you admitted, your voice breaking, freckles on his face evident with his face bare. “I’ll ruin you. I’ll ruin your life. I'm a fucking ruined person. Can’t you see that?”

"I see you more than you see yourself," His hands come up to cover yours, gripping them tightly as though letting go would mean losing you. "You're a fucking angel."

You sobbed at his words. Angel. The word echoed in your head, a word so unfamiliar. How could someone as shattered as you ever be called that? How could Beomgyu see anything but the cracks, the mess? How could someone this real—this kind—exist? Is he even real? A dream? Or is he just a figment of your imagination, conjured up in your darkest moments to give you false hope?

Your tears fall faster, and Beomgyu panics, own heart breaking at the sight of you crying. Gently, he lets go of your hands and slides his up your arms, his touch featherlight—moves slowly, as though afraid he might hurt you, tracing his way to your shoulders, then your neck, until his fingers cradle your face.

“Who would’ve guessed that you’re a crybaby too?” he whispered, his voice uneven but with affection. He steps closer, wrapping you in his arms, pulling your unstable form against his chest. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, your sobs muffled against his warmth.

You feel it—all the longing, all the sleepless nights spent thinking about him. The ache of holding yourself back every time you see him from afar—waiting for you, searching for you. He holds you.

He holds you like you’re the most precious thing in the world. One hand caresses the back of your head, his fingers threading through your hair, while the other keeps you pressed against him. He presses soft, baby kisses to the side of your head, whispering. "Y/N,"

You stepped back slightly from his embrace, but Beomgyu’s hands stayed on your face, his thumbs softly brushing against your skin. He smiled—how could a single expression hold so much, and somehow, make everything hurt a little less? You swallowed the lump in your throat. Maybe, just maybe, you could have this. Even if it was only for tonight.

You rose onto your tiptoes, and leaned in. Closing your eyes, you pressed your lips to his—a fleeting, tentative kiss that barely lasted a second. It was quick, and when you pulled back, you were met with his wide eyes staring down at you, stunned. He hadn’t even had time to close them.

For a moment, neither of you moved. His eyes half-closed, his hands tightened slightly on your face, and before you could say anything, he leaned down, pulling you back in.

This time, he kissed you. He tilted his head just enough to fit against you perfectly, his lips moving against yours with a tenderness that made your knees weak. His grip on your face was firm, his tounge grazing your lips—a soft plea—asking for entrance. You let him in, letting him taste you as you tasted him.

Both of you pull back, breaths heavy. A delicate string of saliva still connects your lips, breaking as Beomgyu takes a step forward more, his eyes locked on yours, "I want you."

You nod, reaching for him, your fingers curling around his arm to pull him back into you. "We have to be quiet."

His hands find your waist, fingers dip beneath the hem of your shirt. He lifts it, the fabric brushing over your skin, exposing the softness and heat of your bare waist to his touch. His palms glide over your skin.

You found yourself on your back, on the softness of your mattress, his weight settled on top of you. Delicate and warm. His hand grasps your thigh and he hoist it up his waist. “Please kiss me.” He murmurs into your mouth.

Your tongue brushes his, and he squeezes your thigh. He returns it, seeking your bottom lip to lightly suck on it. Your hands are up his shirt and he starts tugging down your loose pants. He shakily runs a finger between your legs and you inhale sharply. He rubs you, the feel of you soft, so good. He spreads you apart and gently caresses your clit. And you’re so fucking wet. He can't help but give a light sensual pinch. "Beomgyu," you moan on his lips. Made his heart flutter.

Your breathing is harsher and he looks at your pretty face as he shoves his middle finger in you—touching you is enough for him. He looks at you—wanting to see every expression you make. He’s going to fuck you until you cum all over his dick and then he’ll do it again. Until you don't doubt whatever this is. Until you won't be able to think about leaving him anymore.

He fumbles with your remaining clothes, taking his time as if savouring every second. It’s slower than you expected—partly because he keeps grabbing your face, pulling you into deep, heated kisses that leave you breathless.

Your hands help him get out of his shirt, pulls it over his head—hair falling over his forehead prettily. He leans down and kisses you—hands grab your hair and roam your body, his mouth does the same. Your face, your neck, your shoulder blades. "You're beautiful,"

He kisses down your chest and you run your fingers through his now much longer hair. He licks your nipple and your breath hitched. He bites gently, then bites harder and your back arches—he suckles, then lick. He does it again and again, to your left and right, giving them enough attention. He hears you moan—smirks at your skin—and he keeps wanting to hear it.

He goes down further—kisses down and the smell of you is divine. His face hovers and with his fingers he spreads you apart. He swallows—salivating. He sticks his tongue out, lightly licking your clit. He buries his face in, tongue inside, hands on your hips. "Shit, you taste so sweet, could eat this all day," He groans, lapping up, sucks the arousal out of you. He moves up, nose bumping on your clit then he suckles. His dick is throbbing at the way you taste. Your hands pull his hair, and he feels you down on his chin. He was leaving no parts untouched by his warm mouth.

Going back to you, looking at your face, he bows his head. “Kiss me.”

You pull his head down and kiss him, he slides right in and you cry out. "Fuck, you're so tight," He kisses you while he trusts in and out, your moans muffled on his mouth. "You feel so good," Your nails on his back scrape and he thrusts, hard, and keeps himself all the way in and you squirm under him, feeling you coming close.

"More, gyu." You whine out, legs gripping his warm waist as you pull him closer. He did, trust becoming faster, hitting the spot that made you moan out his name. He repositions himself deeper inside you, pressing you into the mattress, his free hand reaching for your clit, rubs lightly. "M'close," Then you felt it, the warm fuzzy feeling—the rush, almost blinding—the warmth of his arms and the softness of his whispered name on your lips that brought tears to your eyes. His own cum mixing with yours.

He smiled down at you, his lips quirking in a soft, almost shy grin as he took in your fucked-out expression. “I love you,” he whispered. He can't help himself.

The faint sound of running water filled the room as he disappeared for a second, and you assumed he was cleaning himself up. When he returned, his pants sit low on his hips, his chest still bare, and in his hand, he holds a warm, damp cloth.

Your eyes follow him as he approaches, his eyes filled with so much love it made your chest ache. He kneels beside you, his touch was careful as he ran the cloth over your skin, wiping away, cleaning you up. He worked slowly, keeping one of his hand holding your own, focus entirely on you.

When he was done, he looked up at you with that same soft smile, his eyes searching yours. You feel your own lips curve in response, reaching out to touch his flushed cheeks, your fingers brushing against his warm skin. The simple touch makes his smile widen into a boyish grin. His grin burned into the back of your mind. He holds you. He holds your heart too.

I love you too.

The warm rays of the morning sun seeped through the thin walls of the tent, casting a golden glow over the room. Dust motes floated in the light, drifting toward the tangled mess of blankets wrapped around your body.

It was the best sleep you’d had in a long time. You didn’t even remember falling asleep. A yawn slipped past your lips as you stretched your arms, rolling over to the other side.

You weren't alone.

Beomgyu.

He looked so peaceful when he slept, his features soft and unguarded. The sunlight kissed his skin, giving it a honeyed glow, and his hair fell messily over his forehead, looking impossibly touchable. The blanket on his side was pushed low, revealing that he wasn’t wearing a shirt. His pale chest and neck were scattered with faint love bites—marks you had left there. His lips were slightly parted, and he looked so utterly…. serene, it made your chest swell.

You reached out, your fingers gently comb his hair. “Beomgyu,” you murmured softly.

"Hm?" He hummed.

You smiled, and he returned it—his smile lazy, but somehow brighter than the sunlight spilling into the room. “Hi, baby,” he greeted,

"It's morning,"

He groaned lightly, shifting closer to you. “I think… we should stay here,” he mumbled, his voice raspy and slow, as though speaking was too much effort. He moved until he was pressed against you, his head resting on your bare chest as he planted soft, sleepy kisses against your skin.

“I have things to do, you know,” you protested lightly, though you made no move to stop him. Instead, you let your arms encircle him, cradling his head. His hand slid beneath the blanket, settling on the small of your back, familiar against your bare skin.

“Wake up,” you poked his cheek with your finger.

He parted his lips and let out an exaggerated, snore that startled a laugh out of you. “Idiot,” you said, shaking your head, though the fondness in your tone betrayed you. “I’ll give you an hour. After that, Captain Joon is going to start looking for me.”

"Let him look," Beomgyu groaned, burying his face deeper into your chest like a stubborn child. “But why is he always looking for you?”

“Because he’s my captain, you twat,” you replied, pinching his cheeks. “And, oh yeah, he’s my father.”

“What!?” Beomgyu shot up, his eyes now wide open and his sleepiness completely forgotten.

“Well, my adoptive father," Beomgyu’s eyes softened instantly at the word adoptive. He didn’t press, but his silence, the slight tilt of his head, was an invitation to continue if you were ready.

“Yeah, so, uh…” You swallowed hard, your fingers fidgeting slightly. “My parents were both special forces soldiers. When they were on a mission—a spy operation—they… they didn’t make it back. I was five.”Hi hand found yours, his fingers squeezing gently.

“I was sent to an orphanage after that,” you continued, your voice steadier now. "I was there for a few years. Then, when I was ten, Captain Joon showed up out of nowhere. Turns out, he was my dad’s best friend. He adopted me. Took me in like I was his own.”

Beomgyu nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. “How did you end up being a soldier?” he asked softly.

A bittersweet smile tugged at your lips. “I guess it was always in me,” you admitted. “Even as a kid. Captain Joon saw that too. I was… kind of wild. Always getting into trouble at school—detentions, fights. I couldn’t stand bullies, even when they weren’t targeting me. I’d step in, no matter the cost.” You paused, letting out a quiet laugh. “It got worse when I got older. One time, I was walking home, and this group of older boys jumped me. They were bigger, stronger… I didn’t stand a chance. Captain Joon saw what happened, and after that, he decided to put me somewhere I couldn’t get hurt like that anymore. He took me with him—in a military camp.”

Your fingers brushed the hem of the blanket, your voice growing quieter. “I officially became a soldier when I was seventeen. Got into the Black Berets a year later.”

Beomgyu traced the line of your jaw with his fingers, his gentle touch made the words come easier.

“The time you asked me how old I was when I started…” You hesitated, but his intertwined hands with yours encouraged you to continue. “I got rude because… that question was asked of me once before. By someone. He was bitten by the infected, and I—” Your voice cracked, “I ended up killing him.”

You couldn’t meet his eyes, couldn’t bear the thought of seeing judgment—or worse, pity—staring back at you, but Beomgyu didn’t let you hide. His hands cupped your face, tilting it up until your eyes met his.

“Thank you for telling me,” he said, “He’s not suffering anymore.”

Your eyes shimmered with unshed tears as you nodded. He wrapped his arms around you, guiding your head to rest against his chest. No words were spoken. For minutes, you stayed like that, listening to the thump of his heart against yours, a language of its own.

"I should probably be more careful around Captain Joon,” Beomgyu said out of nowhere, trying to lighten the mood.

You laughed, arms around you holding you closer. When he noticed you staring at him, he tilted his head slightly, his expression playful. “What? Too handsome?”

“Pfft,” you snorted. “Androgynous.” He whined dramatically, leaning in to pepper your face with kisses. You tried to push him away, laughing as he chased your retreating lips.

“Who would’ve thought,” he murmured, “that I’d fall in love with the prettiest girl at the end of the world?”

The words brought heat to your cheeks, and you turned your face away to hide the blush. “Okay, that’s enough,” you said, slipping out of his hold and reaching for the first shirt you could find—it was his.

He sat up too, watching you pull his shirt over your body. The hem brushed your thighs, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight. He gathers your hair that had gotten caught under the shirt, his fingers brushing against your neck. "I need to shower, Beomgyu."

"Can I join you? You know, to save water," He immediately quips. You smirk, your eyes meeting his before you give him a subtle nod. That tiny gesture is all it takes for his heart to race, he’s sure you can hear it.

In fact, there was barely any washing done.

Beomgyu finally steps out of your tent, though it took more convincing from you than it probably should have.

You’re still inside, safe from the prying eyes. The sun is higher now, casting everything in a harsh light. He squints, adjusting to the brightness, and immediately spots a few soldiers milling about nearby.

His stomach drops. If any of them so much as glance his way, they’ll know exactly where he just came from. Your tent. The only woman’s tent in a unit of 25 soldiers.

He keeps his head down, heat creeping up his neck and to his ears as he feels the unseen stares. The scenario playing out like an idol dating scandal—and dispatch is about to break the story of his life.

Choi Beomgyu, caught sneaking out of her tent at sunrise, he imagines the headline, biting back a groan. He quickens his pace, muttering to himself, "I’m so dead."

"Hold up."

A firm hand clamped down on Beomgyu's shoulder, halting his little walk of shame. His eyes widened as he turned, meeting the sharp gaze of Do-hyun. The older soldier’s eyes flicked back toward your tent—just six steps behind him—then back to Beomgyu’s freshly washed hair.

"And here I was, starting to feel sorry for you," Do-hyun said with a smirk. Beomgyu barely had time to stammer out a response before the tent flap rustled, and you stepped out.

"Do-hyun," Beomgyu glanced at you briefly, but you didn't meet his eyes, locked on Do-hyun instead. "Let’s go, yeah?" you asked, a pointed glare following the words.

Do-hyun chuckled, lifting his hands in mock surrender as he stepped back, releasing Beomgyu. "Sure, sure," he said, his smirk softening into something less smug.

The two of you walked off, leaving Beomgyu standing there, you glance back at him, catching a glimpse of his warm, flustered expression. Do-hyun caught it, muttering, "You’ve got him wrapped around your… finger,"

You didn’t even break stride, your foot shot out, connecting with his shin. Do-hyun yelped, doubling over, he clutched his leg. "Ow! Damn it, I was kidding!"

Beomgyu finally exhales when his tent comes into view, relief flooding his chest. He thought he was in the clear—until he steps inside and sees his three brothers waiting for him.

"Where the fuck were you?" Beomgyu knows he’s not getting out of this easily. This is going to be a long talk.

Beomgyu tells them. Everything. He leaves out the more private details—of course, he does. Some things are just for him to know. He starts from the beginning, telling them, that he just… fell in love with you.

The room goes quiet for a beat before Soobin steps forward, wrapping him in a hug, his voice soft. "Our little Beomgyu’s growing up," he says, sniffing dramatically.

Taehyun follows with a few firms pats on Beomgyu’s back, his smile warm. Yeonjun, leaning casually against the tent post, grins and shakes his head. "You lucky bastard," he teases, but there’s nothing but happiness in his voice.

The four of them embrace, there's a gap in their circle—a place reserved for someone who isn’t there yet but will be soon.

The day passed with a warmth in your chest, fueled by stealing stares and fleeting touches from Beomgyu.

Lunch was a lively affair, shared with Do-hyun, Eun-woo, Beom-seok, Yeonjun, Soobin, and Taehyun. The meal was filled with teasing banter, laughter cutting through the usual hum of camp life. Eun-woo’s soft pats on Beomgyu’s back and Beom-seok’s subtle nods didn’t go unnoticed—they were quiet acknowledgments.

Now, you walk toward the largest tent with your three teammates by your side. Beomgyu’s heated kiss still burns on your lips, the warmth of it fresh, even though it happened only an hour ago. — Captain Joon has called an unexpected night meeting, one that made Beomgyu pout as he agrees to wait at your tent.

The four of you step inside and salute, standing at attention until the captain’s familiar command: "Sit down."

The scene is one you’ve known many times before. Yet, there are absences that can't be ignored. Ji-ho, reporting in via radio, assures that he’ll be here soon with Huening Kai. — And Seo-jun.

“A brand-new mission for us,” Captain Joon announces, his eyes with a glimmer of hope rarely seen these days. “Word is there’s a doctor working on the possibility of a cure. And since Jeonju camp is the most stable for now, he’ll need assistance. This is the most critical priority, and we’ll be the ones handling it.”

Murmurs ripple through the group, surprised with cautious optimism. A cure—it sounds almost too good to be true. You let out a slow breath of relief, the faintest ember of hope flickering in your chest. Maybe, just maybe, humanity has a chance this time.

“We’re leaving in a few,” Captain Joon continues, his voice firm. “No time to waste.”

When you reach your tent, Beomgyu is already seated, and waiting. The moment he sees you, he stands, and you stride toward him without wasting any second, pressing your lips to his in a kiss he immediately melts into, “Are you okay?” he asks softly when you pull away, hands finding your waist.

“Hmm.” You nod, leaning into his embrace, arms wrapping around him. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “We’re leaving now. Mission came in.”

Beomgyu stiffens. “Right now?"

“Yes.”

“O-okay.” His voice falters, and he swallows hard.

“It might take a while,” you admit, your hands sliding up to cup his face as you look into his wide, searching eyes. “It’s pretty far out, and I—”

“Come back to me safely,” he interrupts, his hands cradle your face. His thumbs gently brush your cheeks. “You don’t have a choice.”

A small smile tugs at your lips. You nod, "I promise.” Reaching up, you unclasp your dog tag, holding it carefully in your hands before slipping it around his neck. His eyes never leave yours, he watches you secure the chain.

“I’ll see you soon,”

He holds you.

It’s been two days since you left, and Beomgyu sits at the table, pushing his food around more than eating it. His mind keeps drifting back to you. The weight of your necklace around his neck is comforting—but it reminds him you’re not here. He sighs.

“There's a car coming!” someone shouts from the outer courtyard. Beomgyu’s head snaps up, his heart skipping a beat. He’s out of his chair in an instant, sprinting toward the commotion, the rest of his members right on his heels. His breath comes fast, uneven, as he skids to a stop outside. His eyes widen, and for the first time in days, relief crashes over him.

“KAI!”

The four of them swarm the youngest member, nearly knocking him off his feet in their excitement. Kai’s laughter echoes through the courtyard as Soobin immediately bursts into tears, clinging to him like a lifeline. Beomgyu hugs him tightly, burying his face in his shoulder, while Yeonjun ruffles his hair affectionately. Taehyun, ever practical, starts inspecting Kai’s arms and legs for injuries.

Everything feels right. They’re together, whole. Now, he just needs you to get back here.

They fussed over Kai like he was the most fragile thing in the world, each of them trying to make up for lost time. Kai explained what happened—they had been trapped, which was why it took weeks to get here. But Ji-ho, just as you’d assured them before, had been capable. He’d taken care of Kai and somehow managed to get him back to them safely.

Later that night, Beomgyu was shuffling on his bed while Kai lounged comfortably nearby. It wasn’t long before the others would join them; Kai had pleaded for a sleepover with his brothers, saying he missed them too much to sleep alone. Of course, none of them could resist.

“Woah.” Kai says, and Beomgyu turned, pillow in hand, to see what had caught his attention. The younger was staring at the two Polaroids on Beomgyu’s bedside table, face lit with curiosity. “Is this real?”

“What, you think I Photoshopped them or something?” Beomgyu laughed, a little sheepishly. He paused, before adding, “I took those with her… on the way here.”

Kai’s eyes flicked back to him, curious. “You’re together?”

“Yeah.” Beomgyu’s lips tugged into a shy smile. “She’s my girlfriend now.”

Kai’s grin was blinding, his low ponytail framed his face as he leaned closer to get another look at the photos. “She’s pretty. I’m really happy for you, Beomgyu.”

You step through the gates of Jeonju camp, your body aching. It’s been a month since you last saw this place—since you last saw him.

Your clothes are filthy, smeared with dirt and the blood of infected, but none of that matters now. The Doctor is alive, the cure is nearly complete, and your mission is done. You made it.

And then you see him.

Beomgyu is already running toward you, his eyes wide and filled with something that looks like disbelief, like awe, love. You can’t stop the smile that breaks across your face, even as your legs wobble beneath you. You start running too, stumbling at first, but your body pushes through the pain, the rest of the world blurring into nothing.

When you reach him, he doesn’t hesitate. His arms wrap around you tightly, lifting you off the ground. He holds you close. You cling to him, shaking from exhaustion and adrenaline and the overwhelming relief of being home—of being with him.

Everyone stops to watch. In a world so cruel, so damned, there’s something warm in the way two lovers find each other again.

A reminder to believe there’s still something worth fighting for.

"See you soon, and take care of yourself," Soobin leans in and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. You nod, offering a small smile. "You too."

His lips curve into that familiar, reassuring smile as he hoists his backpack over his shoulder. "Y/N, stay safe," Taehyun says, stepping in to wrap you in a firm hug. You nod on his shoulders.

"Let’s have ramyeon soon, yeah?" Yeonjun chimes in, his usual playful grin lighting up his face. Without waiting for a reply, he grabs your face in his hands and plants a kiss on your forehead, mirroring Soobin. "I’ll cook for you," he adds confidently, pulling back but keeping his hands on your cheeks.

You can’t help but laugh, rolling your eyes. "Okay, Mr. Married to Ramyeon." He laughs too, giving your cheeks a playful pat before turning to follow Soobin and Taehyun onto the bus.

For a moment, you just stand there, watching the three of them board.

You turn to see Kai looking down at you, his expression shy. He pulls you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you with surprising strength. "I’ll miss you," he sings softly.

It’s been three months since the doctor arrived at Jeonju camp with you. A month later he was in, and the cure was complete. Those who received the shot stopped being targeted by the infected—it was as if the vaccine turned them invisible. No more running, no more hiding.

After countless tests and trial runs, the results were undeniable: 100% effective. The world is still far from healed. There’s so much to rebuild, so much left to do. But this vaccine—it’s a start.

And now, Hybe is taking them back. Back to the world they belong to. Back to the life they’d almost forgotten was possible.

A warm hand slips into yours, and you glance up to meet Beomgyu’s glassy stare. Your eyes flicker to his neck—your dog tags still hang there, glinting in the light. He holds your hands and lifts them to his lips, pressing a warm kiss to your palms without breaking eye contact.

“I promise to come back to you as soon as I can, okay?” he whispers, "I promise."

You know the truth. You’ll never see him again. This is it.

You already have your orders—a mission overseas to distribute the cure, to spread it where it’s needed most. You don’t know when you’ll be back. Or if you’ll be back. The world finally has a chance, but your worlds were never meant to stay intertwined.

“Okay,” you say softly, forcing a small smile onto your lips. You’ll never wake up to the sound of his soft breaths against your skin again. You’ll never walk through the Daegu home he often described with so much warmth, never see the place where his happiest memories were made. A place he wants to go with you.

He’s an idol—a star shining too brightly for someone like you. A celebrity adored by millions. And you’re a soldier, bound by duty to serve your country. He deserves someone gentle, maybe an idol like him, or someone who fits seamlessly into his world. Someone who isn’t constantly called away to fight battles in far-off places.

It made you happy while it lasted.

This dream—this borrowed time you had.

“I love you,” he says suddenly,, and then he’s kissing you. Once, twice—then a third time, slower. He kisses the tip of your nose, and you smile through the tears that blur your vision. You stare at him, taking in everything—the curve of his lips, the softness in his eyes, the way his hair falls... across his forehead. You try to commit it all to memory. “I love you so much,” he says, voice trembling as he cups your face.

“I love you too,”

YEAR 2030

You find yourself in the kitchen, humming softly as the news plays in the background. The aroma of spices and fresh herbs fills the space. You chop vegetables for tonight’s dinner, the rhythm of the task bringing you peace. You always find yourself great with knives, you suppose.

A smile spreads across your face as you feel it—a pair of hands, warm, gently caressing your stomach. A body presses against your back, and a soft breath grazes the curve of your neck. The scent of him surrounds you, and you don’t need to turn around to know who it is.

When you do turn, you’re met with his smile—the one that lights up his entire face, even as exhaustion lingers in his eyes. He looks like he just got home, probably rushing straight from practice, his hair still slightly damp from the shower. Without a word, he drops to one knee, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his cheek against your growing belly.

“I missed the both of you,” he whispers, voice soft and full of love.

You laugh, your hand moving to his hair, your fingers combing through the soft freshly bleached blonde strands. “I don’t think they can hear you yet, Gyu,” you tease gently, your smile tender. “I’m only five months along.”

He tilts his head up to look at you, his lips forming a playful pout that makes you giggle like you’re both still teenagers. Standing, he cups your face with both hands, thumbs brushing your cheeks, wedding band catches the light, whispering of the life you’ve built together. The life you thought was impossible. But he made it—he made it possible.

If he wanted to—he would.

“I don’t care,” he says softly, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. Then your nose. And finally, your lips. His scent, his warmth, the way his heart beats against yours—he's home.

He holds you.

The only sound is the exchanged kisses and the faint murmur of the news on the television.

Following the record-breaking success of TOMORROW X TOGETHER’s latest comeback, member Beomgyu has surprised fans worldwide by releasing his first solo album, The Last Safe Place. The album, deeply supported by MOAs, has already sparked widespread buzz—not only for its musical brilliance but also for the heartfelt inspiration behind it: Beomgyu’s recent marriage.

“This album is a love letter, a reflection of the most meaningful chapter in my life,” Beomgyu shared. “It’s inspired by the warmth, comfort, and love I’ve found in my marriage. I wanted to capture the feeling of having someone to come home to—a place where your heart feels at peace, no matter what chaos the world throws at you.”

THE END.

#the last safe place #txt #beomgyu #txt post #txt x reader #tubatu #tomorrow x together #txt smut #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x you #beomgyu txt #choi beomgyu #txt beomgyu

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eand47 · 2 months ago

Text

Chapter VI | Cakes and Alleyways

Summary: You moved to one of the biggest cities in the world - Grand Line to pursue filmmaking career. Soon enough your path will cross with the vocalist of upcoming band called “The Neighbourhood”. At first you decided to be just friends - because it would be easier, but sadly as everything in life sometimes by taking the easy path we regret a lot of things.

Main characters: Portgas D Ace x Reader (female)

Supporting characters: Nami, Usopp, Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Law, Deuce, Shanks, Buggy, Sabo, Eustass Kid, Koala, Robin, Dave (OC)

Description: Modern AU | Musician Ace

WARNINGS: major age gap!, explicit language, use of nicotine/cigarettes, mentions of alcohol, mentions of drugs, !mentions of being SPIKED!, mentions of (sexual) harassment, mentions of physical violence, mentions of blood, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Word Count: 19,7K

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NOTE: First I’m sorry that the chapter took so long but at least it is quite long. Second: PLEASE TAKE GOOD LOOK AT THE WARNINGS AS I DON’T WANT TO TRIGGER SOMETHING TRAUMATIC IN ANY OF YOU!!!! Also I can't believe it has been one month since I started the fic, thank you all for reading and supporting it ♡ I hope that you guys enjoy it ♡

Snow was covering every roof and street in the Grand Line city. December came and so did the snow. Christmas lights were already lighting up the streets. The weather was getting colder with every passing day. I caught myself counting the days in the past two weeks. To be exact twelve days. Twelve days since I last saw Ace and I was not sure if I wanted to see him again. Five days ago, I couldn’t take the silence anymore and texted him, asking if I did something wrong or offended him somehow. Six days later still no response. Not even marked as read. I was trying to distract myself in every possible way, but he was still finding his way to my mind at least once a day. I felt so confused – confused, offended and hurt. Why? Why being all friendly and nice with me only to turn ice-cold and pretend like I didn’t exist the next day? I didn’t want to think about Ace, but I couldn’t. Even thought I was busy with shooting the sort-cut projects and editing them after, still even after all that stress the thing that bothered me the most was his absence. It was simply not fair. I did not deserve this attitude from him.

They released the music video a week ago. It already had one hundred sixty thousand views and growing in the span of a week, which for a first video was quite successful. All the guys found a way to contact me and thanked me for the video, all except Ace. And that added to the pain I was feeling. I would never do such thing to a friend. But he never saw me as one. At this point I was wondering what he saw me as?

I tried to shake away the thoughts and get ready to go out for a lunch with Shanks. I haven’t seen him in almost two months. We only talked on the phone a few times. On top of it I have barely spoken with my dad, and I felt so bad for it but also, I was starting to miss him a lot. I couldn’t wait for the Christmas break as I needed it both physically and mentally. I received a text from Shanks that he was waiting for me downstairs, so I put on my jacket and boots and ran outside. He had parked his red 4x4 jeep in front of my apartment building, waiting for me inside. I opened the door, and he greeted me with a big smile.

“How is my Foxy doing?” He ruffled my hair before turning on the car.

“Shanks.” I giggled as I tried to fix my hair. “I’m good, how is my favourite uncle doing?”

“Oh, what do you want your sneaky fox?” His eyes quickly glanced at me as we stopped at a red light.

“Nothing. Why would I be wanting anything from you?” I looked surprised at him.

“You call me your ‘favourite uncle’ only when you want something.” He snorted.

“Not this time. I just missed you.” I gave him half shrug. Shanks chuckled and patted me on the shoulder. After twenty minutes drive we arrived at the restaurant where Shanks had made reservation for us to have a lunch. The place was quite new. It was a top floor restaurant, decorated with flowers all around but the best part was the celling, which was entire made of glass. I have never been here before but the moment they seated us down and I looked at the menu I already fell in love with the place. The waiter came and took our order. We thanked him and handed back the menus.

“How is school going Foxy?” Shanks asked me while pouring some water in my glass.

“University, Shanks.” I corrected him. “It’s going pretty well. I must show you the movie I directed and wrote script for. I think I did pretty well.” I tossed my hair on the side a bit, bragging about my little accomplishment.

“I’m sure it will be the best one Foxy.” He smiled proudly at me. “A little bird told me that you also directed a music video.” Shanks raised his eyebrow knowingly, propping his elbows on the table and crossing his fingers under his chin. I hummed in response and nodded my head slightly. “Just a ‘mhm’?”

“What else am I supposed to say?”

“I don’t know, but that was a big deal. And the video was pretty good, Luffy showed it to me.” His eyes were studying my face before he continued. “I also heard that Ace asked you to film it. Wanna say something about that?” His tone was light, but his gaze was stern.

“We met accidently while I was working on my film and he read the script, liked it, saw potential in me and asked me if I could do it.” I explained quick trying to brush off the topic.

“Of course he saw the potential, Ace is not stupid. But still don’t let him get in your head.” Shanks gave me another stern look.

“Shanks what is your problem with Ace?” I whined as I was tired of hearing the same thing over and over again. After all I’m not twelve and I have enough brains to know what would be good or bad for me.

“I don’t have problem with Ace, as long as there is nothing between you two.” Now his voice was also stern. “Ace is a good guy. I know the kid for a long time. He used to be problematic tho, but this is not important now. What is important for you, is to understand that guys like Ace hit and dip. What you want to be one of the many?” He snorted. “I don’t think so Foxy, so before you get your delusions broken use this brain of yours and u-“ His speech was interrupted by the waiter who came and served the food we ordered. I thanked him with a smile before I turn my attention back to Shanks as I gave him annoyed glance.

“Don’t you dare giving me that look.” He pointed his finger towards me. “Again, he is a good guy, but he is also very troublesome. So, case close.” His tone was low but warning.

“No, case open Shanks.” I protested. “I’m old enough to take my own decisions with who I go out and what I do with them. If I get my ‘delusions’ broken.” I mocked him. “Then it’s on me. Plus, Ace and I are just... just... “ I couldn’t find the right word to describe what we were exactly. “We are just acquainted.” I murmured the last part. “Plus, he is a very good person Shanks, and I haven’t seen him being problematic. So, I don’t know if we are talking about the same guy.” I didn’t know why I was defending Ace when he didn’t deserve it at all. I looked down on my plate and took a bite of my food.

“Oh, so you know him better, is that so?” Shanks tone became mocking as he got pissed. “Did you know that when Ace was sixteen, he beaten a guy up so bad it almost left him disabled? And he has been sued to pay the guy indemnification for ten years in the row. And do you know how Ace was being able to pay for it? Until two years ago he was known for selling drugs and beating up people if you pay him, so even after that accident he still didn’t learn his lesson. Now he started to earn some money with music, but we will see how long this will continue.” He raised his chin and eyebrows up waiting for my response. I didn’t know how to response to this. I just lowered my gaze and slouched on my seat. “Exactly, I thought so too.” Shanks snorted at me.

“You are no better than him you know.” I couldn’t stop the words escaping my mouth. Shanks chuckled, placing his hands on the table.

“Go on, Foxy. Elaborate.” He persisted.

“You...” I took a deep breath for courage before I continue. “You used to work for Gol D Roger, you sold drugs for the biggest narco-boss ever known and you are here playing Mr. Morals for a guy who did what he had to do, as life wasn’t very fair for him to begin with.” My chest rose and fell with rapid breaths, my eyes didn’t dare to look at him. I have never talked back to Shanks. I have had this big respect towards him since I could remember, and I have never crossed my boundaries with him. I was waiting for him to start yelling or get even more angry with me but instead he laughed out loud like a maniac. Everyone in the restaurant gave us a look. I slouched even more in my chair from embarrassment. Shanks cleared his throat still laughing.

“Oh, Foxy...” He clicked with him tongue while shaking his head, sill laughing a bit. “I was planning to save you this, but you are asking for it, now with this bratty behaviour.” Shanks looked me straight in the eyes before he continued. The look on his face was scaring me. “You know how I happen to know a lot of people and by chance I knew both of Ace’s parents. And guess what, fun fact for your ‘acquaintance’” A smug smirk appeared on his face. “Wanna know his real name before he changed it a few years ago? For which, I helped by the way.” He snorted, his gaze mocking as he was waiting for me to say something.

“Gol D Ace.” My eyes widen when I heard the name. I shook my head in disbelieve. “No, don’t shake your head like that. You heard me. He is Gol D Roger biological and only son.” I was shocked by this information. It couldn’t be, it was known that Gol D Roger never had a family. “What did your opinion about Ace change now?” Shanks continued to mock me. I bit on my lip and frowned with my brows before I looked at Shanks.

“No, Shanks. It didn’t. Ace is still Ace, and I would never judge someone based on who their parents are.” I swallowed hard. “After all my mother is a junkie, I guess you are the one who needs reminder.” I leaned on the back of the chair, my arms crossed as I was waiting for his response now. Shanks looked away embarrassed and cursed under his breath.

“The difference is that you don’t go after her steps, while Ace did like his father. And even thought Roger wasn’t as bad as he was portraited by the media, he still did bad stuffs, and so did Ace.” He tried to explain this time calmer. “Again – Ace is a good kid, but he swings the wrong way easily, and he is not good enough for you. Have your friendship or whatever with him...” Shanks sighed out loudly, waving his hand dismissively as he took a sip of his water. “I don’t want to see you hurt, Foxy.” He murmured. Silence took over the table. The chatter of plates and chitchats of people around us was the only thing that could be heard. I was lost in my thoughts. What I have heard right now wouldn’t change my opinion about Ace no matter what. My opinion about him was entirely based on how he treated me. The worst part of all was that the more I was learning about Ace the more I was understanding when it came to his behaviour.

“Please, eat.” Shanks broke the silence. My appetite was long gone but I didn’t want to argue with him again, so I took a bite of my food.

“Can I know, why you chose this place? You also said you have something to tell me. I doubt you wanted to come her only to tell me all this about Ace, so what is it?” I was keeping my eyes on the plate still affected by our argument. Shanks rubbed his temples with his fingers and sighed deeply.

“Well, I have some life changing news.” I slowly raised my head to look at him when he said that. I patiently waited for him to tell me what was going on. A little smile appeared on his lips before he took a deep breath in. I waived my hand at him to spill the bean. “I’m going to be a dad.” Shanks said with a grin on his face. I covered my mouth with my hands as my jaw almost hit the floor. I was shocked to my core. Shanks nodded his head slowly, letting me take my time to process what he just told me.

“Are you for real? This better not be one of your sick jokes.” I warned him as tears of happiness started to build in my eyes.

“I’m not kiddin’, Foxy. I’m going to be a father.” He chuckled, joy and pride glistering in his eyes. I squeaked, jumping from my seat to hug Shanks. Tears of happiness were falling from my eyes as he embraced me in his hug. We shared a laugh of joy as we sat back. I couldn’t find the words to describe how happy and confused I was feeling right now.

“H-how? Wh-when?” Was all I could ask him. I grabbed the napkin on the table whipping away the tears as I tried to safe my now a bit smudged mascara. Shanks laughed again.

“Foxy I’m pretty sure you know how babies are made.” He mocked me jokingly. I rolled my eyes at his comment.

“Yes, Shanks, I’m aware. But when? And most importantly, with who?” The big grin couldn’t leave my face. I was so happy to hear this, but also curious. Shanks has never had official girlfriend or anything close to it, so my best and only guess was that it must be a one-night stand.

“Well, it’s pretty early, she is six weeks pregnant. Her name is Natasha and yeah...” He bit on his cheek. I could see that he was feeling a little uncomfortable.

“Hm, was it a ‘hit and dip’ case?” I took a bite of my food, trying to withhold the smug smile that I wanted to place on my face. The whole situation was a bit funny, knowing how Shanks was embarrassed to admit that he got some girl knocked up. He just shot me a glance, warning me not to mess with him.

“It wasn’t planned this is something I can confirm, but I was you know... seeing her from time to time.” He said a little uncomfortable.

“How old is she? Have I seen her by any chance?” I continued with the question enjoying how uncomfortable this whole situation was making him feel.

“Twenty-seven. And no, you haven’t seen her anywhere.” My jaw hit the floor again after hearing the girl’s age.

“Twenty-seven? Shanks...” I stopped myself when I saw how his face scrunched as I repeated her age. Part of me wanted to scold him due the fact that they had twenty years difference, but then again who was I to judge people. “Um, what are your plans now? Like are you going to co-parent once the baby is born or you going to try being together, or...?” I asked. The situation wasn’t fun anymore, it was a little concerning. Shanks exhaled deeply, pulling his red hair a little bit.

“We decided to not rush with any decisions of this sort for now. Plus, I want her to be calm and not worry about anything in the next nine months as it will be more hard for her than me.” He was right, her life would change drastically even before the baby was born.

“How did her parents react? Also, how is she? Is she excited or not?”

“She is very excited. When she told me the news, she even warned me that she won’t do an abortion or anything like this in case I didn’t want to step up.” I nodded understandingly at what Shanks told me. “Well, her parents... let’s say they were happy until they found out our age difference.” He chuckled awkwardly.

“Were you surprised? Imagine I come and tell you ‘Oh, Shanks I got knocked up by a man who is almost your age’. I doubt you will be thrilled.” I snorted.

“Foxy, if you come at this age to me and tell me such thing, even if the guy is your age, your dad and I will crush every part of this guy’s body.” He was joking but I knew if this did happen, they would do this. I wanted to make more jokes to annoy him but decided to keep them for myself.

“So, I will finally have a little cousin. I have always wanted to have one and spoil her with presents.” I propped my chin on my crossed fingers as I stared to daydream about all the fun I was going to have with the baby.

“Hold up, Foxy. Who said it is going to be a girl?” Shanks chuckled and raised his eyebrow.

“You know what they say Shanks, don’t you? About men who used to ‘hit and dip’ a lot.” I smirked.

“What they say, Foxy? Enlighten me.” He rubbed his chin waiting for my response as I stared to giggle.

“A man who broke a lot of hearts, is a man who will be blessed with daughter to pay for his sins.” I couldn’t stop giggling as he rolled his eyes at me.

“Bullshit. This isn’t true, look at your dad – not a single broken heart left behind him, yet your sassy ass emerged from hell.” Shanks was fast with his comeback.

“Hey, don’t talk about dad like this. He is charming... in his own unique way.” I quickly defended my father.

“Foxy, the fact that you had to define his ‘charm’ as ‘unique’ is enough to tell us everything.” His whole body was shaking from laughter.

“Does he know?”

“Of course, he does.” Shanks huffed with a smile. “He also thought that I was pranking him.” We both laughed again.

We continued with the lunch and small talks. I was really happy for Shanks. He would be an amazing father, and he had experience with raising a child. His future baby was in good hands. After all, if it wasn’t for Shanks, my dad would have struggled to raise me all by himself.

When we finished with our lunch Shanks dropped me off back home. Before I left the car we stayed and talked a little bit more.

“You need some money or something?” He asked me seriously.

“No, I’m doing pretty good now. Especially after I filmed the music video. They paid me good you know.” I winked at him as I nudged his arm. “By the way, how do you know Luffy and why haven’t you ever mentioned him to me?” I just remembered to ask him this. Till this day none of them has told me how they met or became so close that Luffy saw him as a father figure.

“This is a story for next time.” He ruffled my hair. “Go home now kid. You have lectures tomorrow.” He sternly said to me. I rolled my eyes and huffed.

“Fine.” I opened the door and got out of the car. “But one last thing.” I said before closing it. “When will I meet... Natasha was her name, right? When will I meet Natasha?” I bounced on my toes.

“Soon, I promise. Now go, Foxy and be careful with what you do.” He pointed his finger to me before I closed the door. I stuck my tongue at him and I turned around to go home. Shanks drove off after he saw me entering the building. When I got inside my apartment I started to jump and squeak around. I couldn’t wait to meet the baby and Natasha. After taking my jacket and boots off and I changed my clothes to something more comfortable, I sat on the couch and called my dad on Facetime. The moment I saw his face on my screen I screamed.

“DAD SHANKS IS GOING TO BE A FATHER.” Tears welled in my eyes again. My father laughed heartfully.

“I know, darling. Sorry for not telling you sooner, but he wanted to tell you himself.” A gentle smile was placed on his face. “I can see that you are quite excited about it.” He chuckled.

“Of course I am, are you kidding me? I have already thought of all the games I can play with the baby, and the toys I can buy for it, and uhh, I just can’t wait to hug the little bundle of joy.” I couldn’t stop babbling about it. It was not even formed as a human yet, but I already loved it. “And I told Shanks that it will be a girl, remember my word. I just sense it with my gut, this baby is going to be a girl.”

“Well at least they wouldn’t need to worry about find a babysitter as you have already volunteered.” He joked and I nodded enthusiastically. “How are you baby girl? Last time we spoke you were super stressed, everything alright now?” His tone sounded concerned.

“I’m fine dad. Now that the short-cuts are done and the music video was released, I’m just waiting for the Christmas break.”

“Oh yes, the video. I watched it yesterday again. You killed it. And it’s getting so popular.” He said excited.

“Yeah, I’ve heard that it was doing good.” I clicked with my tongue.

“Why you sound so unamused? This is a very good thing for your future as a director.” He lifted his eyebrow, immediately picking up that something wasn’t alright with me.

“Yes, I agree. But I want to be movie director not a music one.” I winked. It was true, my main goal was movies, not music videos, but it was still a good showreel for my portfolio after I graduate.

“Still, you must be happy and proud for your success, without you this video wasn’t going to be this good, I guarantee you this.” Dad insisted. Of course, he would think this after all it was something that I have created, and I was his daughter at the end of the day. “Did something happen with the boy? It’s the singer one, I remember correctly, right?” His eyebrows waggled teasing me. “He is quite charming.”

“We are just friends dad. Nothing more than friends.” I shrugged, skipping the part where I have to explain that we weren’t even friends at this point but just some acquaintances, who happened to know some quite personal traumas about each other.

“You sure about that, doll?” It was like someone splashed me with ice-cold water when I heard the nickname.

“Dad, please, I beg you from the bottom of my heart... never and I mean it never ever call me ‘doll’ again, please.” My whole face scrunched up.

“What do you mean?” He squeaked his eyes widen faking his offence.

“Just...” I rubbed my temples with my fingers. “Please, any other nickname or pet name you want, just not ‘doll’.” I cringed, knowing how Ace referred to me as a ‘doll’, the last thing I wanted was for my father to do the same, even thought they used it with very different meanings. In my father’s mind when referring to me as ‘doll’ he was remembering the times when his little girl was in fact a little girl, going around bouncing on my tiptoes and my pigtails swinging from side to side while hugging my favourite baby doll pretending to be my own baby. Now with Ace, I wasn’t sure why he was calling me ‘doll’ all the time, but it wasn’t because of the same reason my father was.

“Okay, okey.” He shook his head defeated. “Now you mind sharing with your old man what is bothering you with this young fella?” I snorted at his poor attempted to imitated British accent.

“Nothing, dad. Really, as I told you last time, I am not good with getting hints and his hints were obvious that it is just a friendship, nothing more than that.” I gave him a half smile.

“Pff, what an idiot. It’s his loss, darling.”

“Nah, it’s okay, dad. Plus, I have more important stuff to focus on that him.” This was indeed true, but my mind was still drafting to Ace all the time. “You know, he is a fan of yours.” I smirked.

“Is he? Well, maybe he isn’t such a big idiot.” My dad chuckled and I giggled. The rest of the conversation was us catching up. Me telling him about the whole process of the short-cuts and how it wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be but still stressful to film ten short movies in the span of ten days, but I was lucky enough to be in a very well organised group, so we all managed pretty good. I also shared with him how I got even more close with Nami and Usopp’s friend group and that my social circle and life here was growing. We also spoke about the upcoming holidays. Dad was planning to come here and stay over at Shanks’, and we would celebrate Christmas with him. Before we said goodbye, I told him how much I missed him, which made him go all emotional as we haven’t seen each other in almost six months, as his schedule was quite busy. He promised me that he would try his best to come a little earlier than planned so we could spend more time together, before we hung up.

The rest on the night I spent by myself doing the usual – watching movies, ordering some takeout and scrolling through my socials. When I refreshed my Instagram for a thousand time tonight, I saw the band’s profile has posted a story. I pressed on it to see it. They were announcing an upcoming performance for not this but next Saturday and that tickets were up to sell from tomorrow. A small smile appeared on my face. This was good, the guys deserved it. No matter where Ace and I stood as friends, his talent was something that no one could deny him, and the same went for the rest of the guys. They deserved the success that slowly but steady was coming in their way. I couldn’t stop myself and I opened their band account and clicked on the people they were following, which were only them four. All of them except Ace were following me. I went to his profile, and he had also posted a story. I hesitated if I should open it. He had almost five thousand people following him and I doubt he was the type to check who viewed his stories. I took a deep breath and pressed on it. There were two stories one where he had reshared the band’s account one, and the other one was a short video of him playing the guitar with a caption ‘testing some new tunes’. He had the orange beanie on top of his head but most of his face was hidden by his hair. I sighed closing the story. I hesitated again if I should follow him, but then the words ‘if he wanted to, he would’ crossed my mind. The fact that his bandmates and friends were following me, and I wasn’t even as close with them as I was with him, was enough to make me made up my mind and not follow him.

I just closed the app and laid on my bed. I was staring at the celling, thinking of what Shanks told me earlier. I knew Ace had a roughed past, but I wasn’t aware that he used to be violent. It was hard for me to imagined him being the person Shanks told me Ace used to be. But people change and Shanks said that Ace has been doing better in the past two years. The thing I was shocked by the most was that Ace was Gol D Roger’s son. He was known as the biggest narco-boss globally. The stories and rumours about his wealth and brutality were horrific. Shanks used to work for him when he was young. He even accidently slipped one time when he was drunk and told me the truth of how he and my dad became friends. My father also did work for Roger, and that was how they met and became like brothers. I have never mentioned to my father that I knew about this.

My dad’s past was something he has always hated to talk about and kept it privet from me. Until he became successful standup comedian, we were barely making the ends, and after a certain age I became fully aware that he was doing some bad things to make a living. Thit was the biggest reason why I couldn’t judge anyone based on who their parents were or their past, as sometimes in life we simply didn’t have choice, or we didn’t know better. If Ace and I ever spoke again I wouldn’t mention anything to him about the fact that I knew who his father was. Obviously, he didn’t want to be associated with him, not only because he had changed his name, but I remembered the only time he had ever mentioned his father was when he told me he had died before he was born, but the reluctance in his voice was as clear as a glass. This was something I could relate to. The despite I had for my mother was growing more and more with every passing year. The worst part was when I looked in the mirror. I didn’t have my father’s eyes or nose, neither the lips – it was all her. And I hated it, because the more I was growing up the more I could see the resemblance. Maybe that was why it was so easy for me to opened to Ace; we had different yet so similar pasts. My thoughts were interrupted by my phone vibrating, notifying me that I have a message. I reached to grab my phone and rose in bed immediately when I saw the message.

‘Stalking, huh?’ My heart skipped a beat when I read the message. It was from Ace. To say that I was confused would not be enough. Two weeks, we haven’t spoken for almost two weeks, and he hit me up at almost eleven pm with such cocky message. Sometimes I did forget how cocky Ace could be. I didn’t know how to response to the message. Not only I was embarrassed because, last thing I expected, was to get caught by him for checking out his Instagram profile, but because in fact I did not know how to respond to this. I thought for a moment to just ignore him the same way he ignored me in the past ten days, but I have always hated this back-and-forth games. I sighed before unlocking my phone and opening his message. All I could do was stare at it. I typed and deleted again and again as nothing seemed right to answer. At the end I send him the only thing that felt right – a middle finger emoji. Just that, a simple middle finger, as he did deserve it. I threw my phone next to me on the bed and ran my hands through my hair pulling it at the ends.

“Fucking Ace” I cursed out loud. I wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t response after this, but my phone vibrated again.

‘Yea, I deserve that. Sorry, doll. Didn’t mean to ignore you.’ I rolled my eyes at the message. I started to type when I received a third message from him. ‘Something bugged with my phone and I wasn’t able to response.” My mouth opened wide as I couldn’t believe my eyes. I typed quickly, God the audacity this man had.

‘Thit was the best lie you came up with? Really?’ Chuckles escaped my lips as I couldn’t believe that he really thought I would fall for such a lame excuse. In response he just liked my message.

“Asshole.” I exclaimed loudly. This time I was pissed.

‘Fuck you Ace!’ The moment the message was sent he seen it and started to type.

‘Don’t be mad at me doll..’ I rolled my eyes again. Not the first nor it would be the last time I have had received this exact message from him.

‘I’m not your doll! Stop calling me that!’

‘You sure bout that?’

“Sure about which one exactly Ace?” I asked myself out loud. I left him on seen and decided to go to sleep as I have classes tomorrow morning. My phone vibrated again but this time it wasn’t a message it was a notification from Instagram. I laughed out loud.

‘@portgas.d.ace has requested to follow you.’ I read it out loud to myself. As much as he has pissed me, right now I was having fun with him. A mischievous idea crossed my mind and instead of accepting his request I denied it. He must apologise first and then he can have this access to me.

“These games can be played by two Ace.” I smirked to myself. My phone lit up again.

‘Did you just delete my request?’ I didn’t expect a response so fast and just like him earlier, I simply liked the message.

‘I’m not gonna request u again, doll ;)’ Instead of replying with my own response I forwarded him his own message - ‘You sure bout that?’

The smug smirk on my face growing with every second. He didn’t response after this, and I wondered if I pissed him off. Hopefully I did, if he thinks that I would easily forgive him, he was deeply wrong. These cheep tricks didn’t work on me and never would, so if he wants to have any kind of friendship with me, he better apologise properly for the past two weeks. I put my phone on ‘do not disturb’ mode and snuggled under my covers.

One thing I couldn’t deny was the warmth I felt in my heart and the smile on my face that Ace caused. Because – yes, I was still pissed at him, but it was also nice to chat with him again. I could say that in a way I missed him in the past ten days. It was so easy to get used to have him around. His charisma was intoxicating, no wonder he attracted so many people around himself. What bothers me, was the fact that I was catching myself craving these interactions with him. I shook my head trying to not think much of this right now, after all I wouldn’t be surprised if I don’t hear from Ace for another two weeks.

When I woke up in the morning, I saw I had a message from Nami. She had texted me that classes for today were cancelled due to our teacher being sick and asked me if I wanted to go out with her for a coffee. I agreed and got up to get ready. After I brushed my teeth and washed my face I put some light makeup. Before I dressed myself, I checked the weather app to decide what to wear. It was still pretty cold outside, so I just put on a light pink polo shirt with a pair of dark blue flare jeans. I grabbed a small handbag and put some lipstick and my ID in it, before I put on my long white coat and boots. I locked the door and put my keys in the bag. While I was walking towards the metro station, I checked the location Nami sent me. It was going to take me twenty-five minutes to get to there, but the good thing was that I needed to use only one metro line. When I got into the metro, I put my headphones on and played some music. One of the songs that played was Ace’s. I have to admit that I have been listening to the band quite a lot – but I did in fact enjoy their music. The song that played was ‘Compass’ and I caught myself smiling. The memories of them performing it live playing vividly in my mind; the interaction Ace and I had while he sang the song, the hand gesture he did that only I knew what it was referring to, when I bumped into him after, and Shanks interrupting us and the whole night was just playing in my mind. It has been two months since then. Two months since we accidently met in the coffee shop that same day.

Two months since we became... friends. If I could even call us that. Nami and Usopp are my closest friends, this was something I could say confidently. And since I filmed the movie at Sanji’s place, I could say that him, Zoro and Luffy were definitely my friends as well at this point. They even acted like extras in the movie for which I was so grateful for. Dave and I started to become more and more close with every passing day. But with Ace... I called him my friend, but somehow the word still stayed bitter on my tongue. Because friends by my understandings didn’t behave the way Ace and I did. My heart doesn’t skip any beat when I hang out with Dave for example. I have never craved any of my friends touch the way I did with Ace. My mood didn’t change based on how they would response on a message or how they would act when we meet. My mind was not occupied with the thought of them like it was with Ace. Recently a lot of things in my life were revolving around Ace and I did not enjoy this.

Lost in thoughts I almost missed the stop, but snapped out of it just on time to go out of the metro. It took me another ten minutes to reach the coffee shop where Nami was waiting for me. Entering the cafe the smell of freshly made pastries and coffee beans hit my senses. The sound of the coffee machine and people typing on their laptops or chitchatting with their friends could be heard all over the place. The coffee shop was small but quite busy, busier than my favourite one. I looked around and saw Nami sitting on one of the cozy couches they had. She waved when she saw me, and I made my way to her.

“Heyyy!” I greeted her when she stood up to give me a hug. “You look amazing.” I complimented her as she was wearing a nice long off shoulder white dress with her hair put in a beautiful messy bun.

“Aw, thanks you (Y/N), you look great, too.” She said while I was taking my coat off putting it on the side of the sofa. “I was waiting for you to come before I order any coffee, so shall we go and take a look at the menu?” Nami asked and I nodded in response. We stood by the counter and looked at the drink menu they had on the walls. Nami ordered herself a caramel latte and I took for myself a nice orange and cinnamon tea. We thanked the barista once our drinks were made and went to sit back.

“So how have you been?” Nami was the first to speak.

“Pretty good.” I response taking a sip of my hot tea. “Now that we are done with the short-cuts and I have already edit mine, I’m good. How about you?”

“Uh, don’t ask.” She whined. “I’m almost done editing it, but I can’t wait for them to do the evaluations next week, so I don’t have to deal with this again until springtime.” I nodded, agreeing with her. “But anyway, let’s not talk school today. I have an amazing offer for you.” She smiled at me and grabbed my hands in hers.

“Oh no, what is it Nami?” I dramatically huffed as I knew it would be something that I might not be very found of.

“I don’t know if you heard or saw somewhere but Luffy’s brothers are going to perform at ‘Ska Stage’ and we are all going and you must join us this time.” My eyes widen at what she said. I didn’t pay attention at all where they were going to perform last night then I saw the story. ‘Ska Stage’ was the most famous live music club in Grand Line, only already known bands and artists were performing there.

“Wait, are you kidding me? Are they really performing at the ‘Ska Stage’?

“Yes, I’m serious. I reacted the same way, don’t worry.” She giggled at my expression.

“I’m only surprised because... you know...” I struggled to find my words. “It’s a place for already... well famous artists.” I meant this in the most respectful way. Yes, the guys were talented, but they were still not that known at all.

“I know what you mean.” Nami clearly read the confusion on mt face. “But they are actually gaining quite lot of attention since you filmed their video.” She gave me a big smile and nudged me. I looked away for a moment as I got quite flushed over the fact that I had a little input over the fact that the band got more recognised over the past few weeks. “On top of it, they are going on a little tour like five cities for like two months can you believe it.” She excitedly squeaked.

“What? Are you for real?” I exclaimed loudly and covered my mouth with my hands as I was about to let out a scream. Nami nodded eagerly in response. “Wow, I can’t believe it. It’s all happening so fast, and I’m so happy for the guys. But I only saw the story about the performance next Saturday nothing about a tour?” I said to her confused.

“Well, they are still in discussion with the venues but they are almost done with the talks so they should announce it pretty soon.” She explained. I hummed with a nod.

“How do you know?” I chuckled raising a brow at her.

“Luffy.” She shrugged. I let out a little laughed when she said his name. “So, you are coming, right?” Her brows raised expecting my answer. I hesitated for a moment – yes, I would love to hear and see the guys perform and actually enjoy it, not like last time when I was working. On the other hand – was Ace. “Oh, please don’t tell me that you are hesitating now.” Nami whined interrupting my thoughts. I shook my head and chuckled.

“No, actually, yes.” I laughed awkwardly. Before she got the chance to say something I raised my finger in front of her face, stopping her from saying anything. “But yes, I will come this time.” I said and she squeaked again clapping her hand happily. I giggled at her excitement. “Who else is coming?” I took my tea mug, still hot in my hands, blowing it before I take a sip.

“The usual – Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Usopp and Kaya.” I smiled in response as I heard who was going to come as well. While Nami was taking a sip of her latte her eyes widen, and she started to jump on the spot before she put the mug back on the table. I gave her a questioning look, wondering what gotten into her now. “Oh my God, you need to hear this. It is a boiling tea – so you know Koala, Sabo’s girlfriend?” She asked me excitedly. One thing about Nami was that she loved gossips and rumours, especially if they were a hundred percent true. I just nodded waiting for her to continue. “Well... she is not the only girlfriend anymore.” She said wiggling her eyebrows at me.

“Um... okay?” I got quite confused. “What do you mean by this? Like did some of them got in a relationship?”

“Yes, guess who?” She teased me, clearly enjoying this.

“I don’t know Nami, I don’t know the guys that well.” A puff of air left my nose in a makeshift laugh.

“Ace.” She mischievously smirked. For a moment I thought that my heart stopped when Ace’s name left her lips. Without realising my smile faded away and my brows frown, my whole-body slumping from the news. I looked down at my hands not knowing how to response. When? Was he having a thing with a girl this whole time? Was it Samantha or some other girl? How could he act so single if he was seeing another girl the whole time. I could feel my chest tighten. Thoughts were running wild in my head until Nami ironic laughter interrupted them.

“Oh God, I was joking, but seeing this reaction you can’t fool me anymore that nothing is going on between you and him.” Nami shook her head giving me a knowing look once I looked at her. She crossed her arms and tilted her head at me waiting for me to start speaking.

“Puff, I was joking as well. Gotch ya.” I poked her sides with my finger, trying to laugh off the situation. She just gave me a look, tapping her fingers on her arm as she crossed her legs facing me better now. I huffed and looked away for a second before I response. “Look, Nami...” I started not sure how to word my sentence. Nothing was happening between Ace and I, but at the same time things between us were weird. I couldn’t keep pretending that whatever was happening between us was a ‘friendship’ because it wasn’t. But I didn’t know what to called it either. I took a deep breath before I continued. “Nothing is happening, okay? And I swear by it when I say it. We are just... let’s say we are friends but not really friends, you get what I mean?” it was pointless to lie to her as she could be thousand things, but stupid was not one of them.

“What do you mean by ‘friends’ but not really? What you two sleep together or something?” She raised her shoulders as she was trying to understand what the situation was like.

“No, no, no I swear we have never done anything physical not even a kiss.” I quickly told her afraid that she might get the wrong idea. She gave me a doubtful glance. “Nami, I swear I haven’t done anything with Ace.” I looked her in the eyes, praying that she would see that I wasn’t lying to her. Nami sighed loudly and rubbed her temples. We stayed in a silence for a moment before she locked her eyes with mine. Her expression softened but instead of relief a bit of concern spread across her face.

“Do you have feelings for him?” Her tone was soft, but the concern was there. She even took one of my hands in her and gave it a gentle squeeze. I quickly shook my head and laughed at her question.

“Nami, no. Are you crazy?” I looked at her like she was coming from another planet. I didn’t have any feelings for Ace. I was just simply confused of where we stood as friends. “I don’t have any feelings or anything close to feelings for him.” I continued to deny it. Nami tilted her head down a bit, her eyes focused on mine as she bit her lips not believing my answer.

“Then why did you react like you got splashed with boiled water when I said he has a girlfriend?” I didn’t know how to answer this question. I didn’t even realise how I had reacted until she pointed it out.

“I just got surprised because I didn’t expect to hear his name at all.” I tired to defend my reaction.

“(Y/N)... look, Ace is... a big flirt, okay? I would understand if you have already developed some crush on him, but he is not a relationship guy and you... you are a relationship girl.” Nami was struggling to find her words and I could clearly see this, but I was taken aback when I heard her observation about me.

“What do you mean by me being a ‘relationship’ girl?”

“I mean that you are the type who wants stability not a one-night stand.” Nami clicked her tongue. I frowned my brows. I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out. “You see, that is what I mean, you can’t even deny it yourself.” She laughed at me.

“So what? Is that a bad thing?” I snapped. “Plus, I don’t have any feelings towards him, and I promise you he doesn’t see me for anything more than a friend. He made sure to make this clear.” I murmured the last part. Nami squeezed my hand again and I looked at her.

“I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, I’m saying that Ace is not the guy for it.” She explained as patted me on the shoulder. “I know a guy with an obvious crush on you though.” She smirked when I turned my head quick to look at her.

“Who?” I snorted raising my eyebrow curiously.

“I’m not telling you until you at least admit you have a crush on Ace.” She nagged with a smile.

“Nami I’m not admitting anything, I don’t have a crush on Ace. Yes, I do find him attractive but so what? Finding someone attractive and having crush on them are two different things.” I said and rolled my eyes at her. “Now tell me who has crush on me?”

“Yeah, keep lying to yourself.” She also rolled her eyes at me. “Anyway, are you really not getting who I am referring to?” Nami giggled at my confused expression. I shook my head, I couldn’t think of anyone who might have crush on me. “Come on, try to guess at least.” She nagged me.

“Nami, I really don’t know I don’t interact with a lot of guys, so tell me, who is it?” It won’t be Ace this was something I was sure of.

“Dave.” Nami said and smirked. I laughed at her answer.

“No, he doesn’t.” I continued to laugh. When it comes to Dave, this was a relationship that I was a thousand percent sure what was it, and it was nothing more than a friendship. “Look, I might be confused with my ‘friendship’ with Ace, but when it comes to Dave, I’m pretty sure where we stand.” I confidently said, taking a sip of my now chilled tea.

“Girl, be fucking for real now.” Nami mocked me. “Dave is head over hills for you, and you are so blind to see it, and now I know why – because you are too busy focusing on the wrong guy aka Ace.” She blabbed and I gave her an ice-cold look.

“First of all, I’m not focused at all on Ace, and second you are wrong about Dave, plus I don’t see him in that way, so case closed.” I gave her a mocking smile and she rolled her eyes at me again.

“Okay, answer this one question and I won’t bother you anymore, if you have to choose between Ace and Dave who would you choose?” The look in her eyes was challenging as she raised her eyebrow.

“The one who makes me feel understood.” I said and winked at her, knowing that my answer left her confused a bit. She was about to protest when I interrupted. “Now tell me the tea.” I knew this was going to distract Nami for a bit. I didn’t want to talk anymore about Ace, let alone Dave as Nami was more wrong about Dave than she was about Ace.

“Oh yes, so apparently Law is having a serious girlfriend now. And she is also coming to watch them, and we are going to meet her as she will be joining our group with Koala.” Her eyes lit up with excitement while she was giving me more and more details about the whole ‘Law’s girlfriend’ situation. At some point I stopped her little rant to ask where she got all this information from which she gave me two names – Luffy and Usopp. At this point these two were as big of a gossipers as Nami was. We stayed for a little bit more before we decided to leave. While we were walking to the metro station, we continue to chitchat. Before we went to our separate ways, I called after her.

“About... about Ace... you wouldn’t tell anyone, right?” I knew she wouldn’t, but I had to make sure she would promise she wouldn’t mention anything to anyone.

“I haven’t seen nor heard anything.” She winked at me and smile before disappearing from my sight. I bit on my lip nodding to myself before I turned to walk to my direction.

On my way to home I started to think of what Nami said, especially about Dave. We did become closer in the past few weeks, but not in the way Nami saw it. We did hang out a lot around the university, Dave invited me out a few times, but I had to turn him down as I was busy with other things at the time. But going out and going on a date were two different things and Dave never invited me out on a date. He was just super friendly and a good person in general, so Nami was left with the wrong impression. Even if he did invite me on a date, I would have turned it down as I didn’t see him as anything more than a friend. Seeing Dave around university or even if I saw him randomly on the street would be nice, as he was my friend and I love coming across my friends, but there would be no blood rush, no heartbeat skipped, no excitement for when I would see him again – I would simply feel nothing.

I got home and changed into something more comfortable and like every other day I was either going to read or watch something as I didn’t have any other plans for the day. I sat on the sofa and grabbed my phone. Without realising what I was doing I opened my messages with Ace. When I realised what I have done I slightly shook my head in confusion. I knew why I opened his messages because when I was with Nami I thought of texting Ace to congratulate him on performing in ‘Ska Stage’ but he still hasn’t apologised properly so I shook the thought away. But now – home alone and bored I realised that I didn’t want to just congratulate him, I wanted to speak with him, to have some kind of interaction with him. I caught myself craving his presence, his attention even and this scared me to my core. Tossing my phone to the side before I do something that I might regret later, I grabbed the blanket and threw it over me before I put something to watch. I tried to shake the feeling away and distract my mind from Ace.

Whatever I put on the TV didn’t matter as my thoughts ran back to my last conversation I had with Kid. Out of nowhere I remembered the last time we saw and spoke to each other. It was after the Halloween party and I remembered I asked him how to tell if a guy who was kind of an ass might be into me, and his answer was simple – he would keep his distance but fail to do so every time. I wondered if this was the case with Ace, but I doubt it. Ace was just... Ace. Whatever might have logic to explain things for a normal person it didn’t apply for him. Ace was special in his own unique way, the last thing on the list of why he would constantly disappear and reappear was because he was into me. After all he was the one who made sure to make it clear that we would never be anything more than friends, even thought his view for ‘friendship’ was questionable. At this point I was the one who must distance myself from him even if it would be quite hard considering how much time I have spent recently just thinking about him. Yes, I should do this. I can’t afford to fall for Ace, let alone to admit to myself that the ‘innocent’ crush was starting to grow into something bigger.

The following week past by fast and before I knew it was already Friday. We were having our official evaluations today and I was quite nervous, but at the same time I was looking forward to seeing my classmates’ movies and see how everyone’s vision has come to life. I took a seat between Nami and Usopp. Usopp pulled out different type of candies and small snacks from his backpack as we were going to watch movies the entire day and there was noting better than having something to munch on while watching. First it was Nami’s group, so for the first four hours we were watching their movies. Nami’s short film was beautiful, it actually made me tear up, as it was about a girl who was saying goodbye to her childhood toys in metaphor of losing her innocence. Her movie started so colourful – everything filmed in warm tones, while the end was in a way darker colours representing the grieving of the girl.

“It’s beautiful Nami.” I whispered to her as I wrapped my arms around her when the film finished. She cooed at me as she saw me crying and gave me a napkin.

“Thank you.” Nami said to me and then focused on what our teachers had to say about it.

After we saw the last movie from her group, we got an hour for lunchbreak. Today was pouring rain outside so we went to the university cafeteria and sat by one of the tables next to the big windows. We were mostly discussing the movies we saw and which of them we liked the best. As we were talking Dave saw us and came by our table, taking a seat next to me.

“Hey, what’s up guys? How are the evaluations going?” He gave me a charming smile before he focused his attention to Nami and Usopp. Nami glanced at me for a second before a little smiled formed on her face. I mockingly rolled my eyes at her as I knew what she was implying with this look on her face. Usopp and Dave started to chitchat and Nami was joining from time to time. I was eating my sandwich not really paying attention to their conversation, looking at the rain falling outside from the window as I had something totally different in mind. I felt a finger poking my sides and I quickly turned my head towards Dave. “What’s up? Are you out in space again?” He asked with a smile, but my eyes widen at his question. Did he just say, ‘are you out with Ace again?’

“Excuse me?” I must have heard wrong. Dave laughed at my expression and repeated his question.

“I asked, are you out in space again?” This time he said it slower. My brows raised and my mouth formed in an ‘O’ shape as this time I heard correctly.

“Sorry, I heard something totally different.” I chuckled. “Yes, I was out in deep space again.”

“What did you hear?” Usopp asked raising his eyebrow. I waved my hand in dismiss as it wasn’t important.

“So, Dave what are you doing tomorrow?” Nami asked him but glanced at me. She was up to something. I could tell it by the way her eyes had mischievous flame dancing in them.

“Watching football match with some of my friends. Why?” He turned his head to Nami, interested in what she was about to offer him.

“Do you want to come with us instead to watch the guys perform live?” She gave him a saccharine smile resting her chin on her palm. I shoot her a quick annoyed glance before I could stop myself. I didn’t even know why I did it, but I just hoped that Dave would say no.

“The guys?” Dave asked before he realised whom Nami was referring to. “Oh, your friends? No, thank you I will pass.” He said, but it was something in his tone that caught me off.

“What do you mean by ‘no I will pass’?” I mocked his voice. Dave raised his shoulders a bit and gave me an apologetic look before he answered me.

“Not a fan, sorry.” He awkwardly said, scratching the back of his neck while avoiding looking at me.

“Why’s that Dave?” Nami asked just a second before I could. I could see that Dave was getting a little uncomfortable.

“Let’s just say that it’s not my type of music.” He chuckled. I snorted at his response, and they all turned their attention towards me.

“Yes, they are. You have played me some of your friends’ music and it is quite similar to what Ace does.”

“They do.” Nami quickly added. I gave her a questionable look. “You said ‘what Ace does’ I’m just correcting you that they are four of them.” She smugly smiled at me knowing what she was doing. Usopp’s eyes shifted between both of us catching that something was up. Dave had his head turned to the side so I couldn’t see his reaction as he was facing away from me.

“Ha-ha did I? Well, usually we refer to the lead singer, don’t we?” I chuckled awkwardly hoping that no one would make a big deal out of it. Dave taped his hand on the table before he stood from his chair.

“I have to go now, guys. See you around.” He bit us a quick goodbye and left before we could say anything.

“That was strange.” I said. Usopp nodded and Nami gave me a look. “What?”

“Usopp, do you think Dave is into (Y/N)?” Nami tilted her head to Usopp. My eyes widen in disbelieve. Usopp just nodded in response as he was eating. Once he swallowed his food, he cleared his throat before he spoke.

“It is painfully obvious.” He took another bite of his food.

“Thank you, Usopp.” Nami loudly exclaimed and clapped with her hands.

“No, he is not. I promise you guys, you are wrong about this.” I argued with them. Dave was not into me and even if he was, I refused to believe it as the feelings weren’t mutual. Nami was about to start arguing with me, but Usopp beat her.

“Yes, he is. He even asked me if you are seeing someone and if that was why you are turning him down all the time.” He calmly said. My brows raised up when I heard that. “He even thought that something is going on between you and Ace, but I promised him that there is nothing going on between you two.” I side-eyed Nami when Usopp mentioned Ace and she raised her eyebrow at me with a ‘I told you’ look written all over her face.

“I have never turned him down, neither I knew that he was asking me out on a date.” I quickly defended myself. “Plus, he asked me as well for Ace, and I told him that nothing is going on between us, I don’t know where he got this idea from.” I sighed rolling my eyes.

“Ace was giving him looks while we were filming the video all the time, so no wonder he thought you might be the reason why, but I reassured him that Ace is sometimes like this around new people.” Usopp explained.

“Yeah, Ace does this sometimes. No wonder Dave left when you mentioned him.” The sassiness in Nami’s voice clicked something in me and I got pissed.

“Okay, I want to make something clear to everyone once and for all.” I stood up from my chair as I started to put my lunchbox back in my bag. “There is nothing between Ace and I, okay? Is that clear?” I pointed my finger at both as they were looking at me with widen eyes, surprised by my outburst. “And I have made it clear that I’m not interested in dating anyone, so if someone has anything towards me sorry not sorry it is not mutual. Now please if you excuse me, I need some time alone.” I put my bag on my shoulder and storm out of the cafeteria.

I went out for a few minutes to get some fresh air. The rain was still pouring, and it was getting even colder, but I needed some time alone. Why was everyone assuming something was happening between Ace and me? All the ‘closure’ we have ever had was when no one has been around. Did Luffy mention something? I have heard that he has a big mouth, but he did promise me to not tell anyone about that one time I stayed over Ace’s place. Honestly, I was tired of hearing and talking about Ace and in the past week or so he was the main topic in all the conversations I have had with people.

I looked at time on my phone and sighed. It was time to go back to the cinema room to watch my groups movies. I slowly made my way there and when I entered Nami and Usopp were waiting for me. For a moment I hesitated if I should take a new seat, but this was going to be very childish of me, so I just sat between them without saying anything. They gave me an apologetic look, but I just ignore it.

My movie was the third one of that we saw from our group. It received something between a bad and a good grade, which wasn’t the grade I was aiming for and this made me a disappointed at myself. I knew it wasn’t going to be the best, but also, I didn’t expect it to be so average.

“It was a great movie (Y/N).” Nami whispered in my ear as she gently placed her hand on my shoulder. Usopp gave me the thumbs up and mouthed ‘good job’. I slightly nodded and thanked them. If my mood was bad because of the conversation we had before the second part of the evaluations now it was completely ruined. Usopp’s movie was last – it was about a man who had to choose between chasing his dream or staying to live in the small town where he came from with the love of his life. The ending was open to the audience which added a very nice note to the movie. I patted him on the back when it finished, as he did a great job. After the evaluations were done, I was the first one to leave the room immediately. I heard Usopp yelling after me, but I guessed Nami stopped him as none of them came after me for which I was thankful. All I wanted was to be alone for a bit.

I got home as quick as possible. The moment I took off my jacket and boots and sat on the couch my tears stared to fall. As much as I doubted myself, I have always tried to be the best in the things that I did. Knowing how much effort I put into this project and receiving an average grade did affect me. I knew that my script wasn’t the most unique scenario out there, but the grade was not based on scripts. It was based on directing. And I did fail. I pulled my legs close to my chest as I wrapped my hands around my body. Quiet sobs left my body. Thoughts were running wild in my mind about what I could have done differently to change the outcome of the movie. It was only a project, but it was the most important one for the first semester, and in my mind, I failed it. And I knew that many more projects were coming, but it wasn’t just the grade that put me down – it was the effort, the stress, the time, all this that I invested in, only to be an average result. I looked at my phone and I saw that I had some messages from Usopp and Nami, wondering if I was alright and if I needed someone to talk to I should call them. Another sob left my lips as I realised how bad I treated them today with my outburst. They were too nice to me. I didn’t respond to them right away instead I was just staring at the contacts I had on iMessage. There was one person who I knew was going to understand me, but I didn’t want to bother him. It was more like I wasn’t sure if he would mind me to bother him.

Before my mind could process it, I was already dialing his number. I put it on speaker and placed it on my right knee as I propped my head on my left one. The phone continued to ring for some time and just as I was about to hang up, he picked up.

“Hello?” His voice was low and raspy as always.

“I failed my short-cuts.” I said quietly and sniffed.

“I doubt this, doll.” His tone was soft but the way he said it was very assuring.

“Oh, I-I did Ace. I really did a b-bad job, the grade I got i-is quite average a-and compared to my classmates m-movies mine was just ‘okay’, nothing wow. I-I failed as a d-director.”

“Wow, wow, calm down okay. First of all, are you crying?” Ace asked concerned. I hummed and sniffed again. “Doll, please relax. I know the feeling, okay? We can’t always be at the top.” He chuckled. “And you said that your movie is average, you didn’t say ‘bad’ – average doesn’t always mean bad.”

“But it was nothing ‘wow’. And I had made quite lot of mistakes directing the actors.” I cried.

“Oh, you cry baby.” Ace chuckled softly. “Last time I checked you were a filmmaking student, not a filmmaker already. Don’t beat yourself so much. Just learn from whatever mistakes you’ve made.” His tone continued to be calm and reassuring. I didn’t know how to respond to what he said because he was right. I was overthinking it rather than learn from it. “Do you need me to come?” He broke the silence that took over the phone.

“No, please don’t. I just... I just needed someone to talk to.” I sniffed again and whipped my tears with the back of my hand. I cursed myself in my mind. “I’m so sorry for calling you, I don’t know what took over me. I-I hope... I-I didn’t bother you with my o-outburst and... and c-can we forge-” Ace was quick to interrupt me.

“You didn’t bother me at all.” His voice was tender. “And stop apologising and crying, otherwise I will come despite your wants.” He warned me and I could sense that he wasn’t joking. “Also, I doubt your movie is as bad or ‘boring’ as you clamed it to be. So next time your pretty face is free you are coming over and showing it to me, okay?” His voice was playful which made me smile.

“Okay.” I giggled. “I will do that, I promise.”

“Good.” He simply responded. “Plus, give yourself some credit. Our music video is already at two hundred thousand views on YouTube, and you directed this. Not many of you classmates can say the same, am I wrong?” I have totally forgotten about this, until Ace mentioned it. It has gained even more views in the last week.

“Oh my, I didn’t know it got so many views. Congrast Ace.” My smile grew wilder.

“Well, thanks, but this was possible because of you. Don’t forget that.” He hummed on the phone.

“You give me too much credit. People listen to the music and don’t pay that much attention to the video.”

“Yes and no, bu-” Ace got interrupted as I could hear someone calling for him. “Listen doll, I must go now, as we are rehearsing for tomorrow. But please, relax. It was just a grade not the determination of your career.”

“You are right.” I let out a sigh.

“If you need something or...” He paused for a second before continuing. “Or you need me just let me know.” His voice got even lower, and I just hummed in response. “Okay, I have to go now, take care.”

“Ace...” I said just before he hung up.

“Yes, doll.”

“Thank you.” I whispered. He didn’t say anything and just hung up.

I could feel myself relax a bit. This was the thing about Ace – he always knew how to make me relax, how to calm me down, how to make me feel safe. Even if we haven’t seen each other for almost three weeks now, deep down when I was dailing his number I knew that he would pick up. I knew that he was the only person who could calm me down and he did. I got this weird warm feeling in my chest when I recalled him calling me ‘pretty face’. He knew how to sweep a girl off her feet. If I wasn’t affected right now, I was probably going to make some snarky comment on it, but not this time. I took my phone and quickly wrote an apologetic message to Nami and Usopp.

After almost an hour I got a phone call from unknown number. I picked up and it was a delivery. The delivery guy asked me if I could give him the door code so he could deliver it to my door or if I would like to go down and picked it up myself. I explained that I haven’t ordered anything, but he said that he had my address and name given with the phone number. That was strange, but I gave him the door code as I was too lazy to go down myself. The doorbell rang and I opened. He gave me the bag with whatever was inside and left. I closed the door and looked at bag that seemed to have food in it. I raised my eyebrows in confusion because I haven’t made any order. I put the bag on the kitchen counter and opened it.

“No, he didn’t.” I exclaimed as I covered my mouth with the palm of my hand. Inside the bag was a box of my favourite chicken wings from Pappa Grappa and there was another box with three different cakes – a chocolate cake, a carrot cake and an Oreo cheesecake. There was also a little note in the bag: ‘I wasn’t sure which one you would like so I got you all three – Ace.’ I almost started to cry again. No one has ever done such gesture for me. My hear was beating fast in my chest. I closed my eyes and bit my lip as I tried to stop the big smile growing on my face. Why would he do such thing for me? I grabbed my phone and quickly wrote him a message.

‘You didn’t have to do this... but thank you.’

‘I know. I just wanted to.’ He replied after some time.

I reread his message a few times. It was on a repeat in my mind. Something in this message made me feel in a way I have never felt before. But not in a way where butterflies were flying in your stomach or you breath stops, nothing like this. It was this hard to explain feeling of significance if I may call it this way. Like he cared about me, otherwise he wouldn’t do such thing. Ace is a good person, but I have noticed that there are things which he would do only for those who he cared for. A warm feeling bloomed in my heart. Ace cared for me.

I placed my hand on my chest, feeling the beating of my heart. This wasn’t a ‘innocent’ crush anymore. I couldn’t lie or deny it to myself anymore. After all, in a bad day like this one he was the first person I called, he was the person I needed, he was the person who made it better. I did not fall from this small gesture – no. This small gesture just opened my own eyes for the truth that I was trying to deny myself. I did have feelings for Ace. They were nowhere near to being in love with him, but they were there. They were there, freed from the shackles I have had wrapped around them. I felt free as I no longer needed to lie to myself. Yes, maybe they weren’t mutual feeling, but the fact that he cared for me in his own way was enough. I picked a fork from the kitchen drawer and opened the cake box taking a bite of the chocolate cake. I wasn’t sure if the cake was really this sweet or me coming to terms with my feelings towards Ace. The only thing in my mind without any guilt this time was the thought of Ace and the fact that I was going to see him tomorrow night.

My apartment was a mess. There were clothes and shoes everywhere and my make up was all spread around the bathroom counter. Nami and Sanji were going to pick me up in less than an hour now and I was nowhere close by being ready. I have just finished doing my hair and what was left was choosing an outfit and putting a lipstick on. Since yesterday I was thinking what should I be wearing tonight, and nothing seemed to be good enough. I even called Nami earlier wondering what she was planning to wear even thought I wasn’t planning on matching with her. Her saying that she was going to wear a mini dress gave me the confidence to go for something not so cold friendly as well. Speaking of Nami, I received a message from her that they were going to be outside my place in fifteen minutes, and it sent me into a spiral.

I set my mind on something simple, yet eye catching – a silver sparkling mini skirt with a white top. I added some nice sliver jewellery as final touches to the outfit before I put on my white high heel booths on and coat. I took a final look at myself and realised I forgot to put on lipstick. I ran to the bathroom and searched for the one I had in mind. When I finally found it and the lip pencil, I carefully lined my lips and filed them up with the lipstick. Now I gave myself one final look and smiled at myself. I put the lipstick and the lippen in my coat’s pocket as I decided to skip on a purse.

Running down the stairs my heart was beating fast. In less than an hour I was going to see Ace and this bubble of excitement was growing bigger with every passing minute. We haven’t seen each other in three weeks, and I was going to lie if I said I didn’t put extra effort in the way I looked today. Opening the backseat door of the car I was met with almost the whole gang.

“Hey guys.” I greeted all four of them. Luffy scouched in the middle seat making space for me to sit. When I sat down, we three were like sardines in a can, and we started to laugh as Luffy was too tall to sit in the middle. I offered him to switch before Sanji drove off, but he said he was okay. “I didn’t know you two were coming with Nami and Sanji.” I said to Luffy and Zoro.

“A free ride is a free ride, shihihi.” Luffy grinned at me. Zoro slightly nodded agreeing with Luffy.

“You look mesmerising (Y/N).” Sanji complimented me as we locked eyes in the front mirror.

“Thank you, Sanji. You too, as always.” I smiled at his compliment.

“Be careful (Y/N), you might give this dumbhead, a heart attack and he will crash us before we even drove off.” Zoro snorted.

“You better shut up, before I kick you out of my car, mosshead.” Sanji snapped back. They started to snap back and forth between each other, something that was a typical for them. Luffy was laughing at their banter and Nami turned to me.

“Girl, you look stunning. Planning to break some hearts tonight?” She teased me.

“I could say the same about you.” I teased her back. I couldn’t see how she was dressed under her coat, but she mentioned she was going to wear a red mini dress. Her hair was up in a very nicely done bun while some strands were freely falling around her beautify face.

Soon we arrived at the club. The queue was long, way longer than the one in front of ‘The Red Pirates’. The security guards were intimidating but not as much as Beckman and Lucky. Behind them the loud music from the club could be heard even far away from the entrance. Suddenly a small wave of anxiety hit me, and I wrapped my coat tighter around my body. Zoro seemed to notice and came closer to me.

“Don’t worry, we are cutting past the queue, and we have a special table.” He said in my ear. I smiled and nodded at him, as silent thank you for his reassuring. Nami called after us to follow her. By the entrance were standing Koala and one more girl. The girl had a tall and nicely curved body. Her long black hair was falling freely on her back. When she turned around, I was amazed, as I have never seen such a gorgeous woman before. I even heard Zoro murmuring ‘damn’ quietly under his breath.

“Hello guys.” Koala waved her hands excitedly at us. Luffy was first to reached her and he wrapped his arms around her, lifting her up from the ground. “Luffy put me down.” She squeaked happily. He did as he was told and let a boyish laugher. When she saw Nami and me she gave us hugs. “How are you girls, you look stunning.” She complimented us. “Oh, everyone. This is Robin, Law’s girlfriend.” Koala introduced us to the beautiful woman who’s name we have just learned. I glanced at Zoro whose face was unreadable as always, but I caught his lip twitching a bit when he heard that Robin was taken.

“Nice, to meet you, Robin.” I smiled at her.

“Nice to meet you, as well guys. I have heard quite a lot about you.” She shyly chuckled.

“Whatever you have heard and depends on from who it might be true.” Sanji winked at her. Nami sighed loudly next to him and nudged his sides. Sanji gave her an apologetic look as he couldn’t contain his admiration towards Robin.

“Are we all here?” Koala asked as she counted us to make sure we didn’t miss someone.

“Usopp and Kaya should be here any minute now.” Luffy told her.

“Okay, let’s wait for them. Hopefully they come soon as I need to go and see my man before his big night.” Her eyes sparkled when she referred to Sabo. “And Robin here, too. It’s so nice to know that I’m not the only girlfriend you know.” She said jokingly.

It didn’t take long for Usopp and Kaya to join us. Now when we were all together Koala cut the line and spoke with the guards. They nodded at us and took down the rope letting us in. We walked in straight and left our coats in the cloakroom.

“Wow, (Y/N), you look gorgeous, I love the skirt.” Koala said to me as I took of my coat. I got flattered by her compliment.

“Oh, thank you. I bought it in the summer but never got the chance to wear it.” I chuckled.

“Well, tonight is your lucky night.” She winked at me before she turned to everyone. “Okay guys, follow me to our table and from there on you deal on your own.” Koala clapped her hands, and like a kindergarten kids we followed her strictly.

The club was big, it could probably fit up to five hundred people, and the fact that the guys sold out the show meant it would be full tonight. The illumination lights were showering the place in blue and purple colours. Where the stage was positioned the band’s logo was on display, behind the DJ booth. The music which he was playing was quite popular and catchy so there were already a lot of people dancing and singing on the dance floor. The dance floor wasn’t as crowded as the bar was. I could only imagine the stress the bartenders were under with so many people around. We reached the VIP section and there was security standing at the podium. Koala showed them something on her phone and they nodded letting us pass and gave us paper bracelets, which were for them to know that we were allowed in this aera.

“Okay, guys I have pre-ordered the drinks I know you all usually drink. There are waitresses as well so if you go out of something let them know.” Koala had to scream so we could hear her. “Robin and I must go and see the guys before they start, so leave something for us as well, okay?” She laughed before grabbing Robin by the hand and disappearing into the crowed. I frowned a bit, as I realised, I wouldn’t be able to see Ace until they were done performing.

“Luffy, I love your brothers for paying for all of this.” Nami wrapped her arms around Luffy giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“Come on guys, let’s get this party started.” Luffy yelled over the music and clapped with his hands. It didn’t take Zoro and Sanji another second to start opening the three bottles of alcohol in the table. They filled up everyone’s glasses with ether vodka or rum, Zoro and Luffy mixing both, with some cola or redbull. Zoro handed me mine and I thanked him. Everyone cheered and took a sip of their drink. I didn’t want to get drunk tonight, so I was planning to keep it light with the drinks. The guys were going to perform around twelve and I had no idea what time it was already. I got a little jump scared when I started to pat my sides only to realise, I forgot my phone in my coat. An annoyed sigh left my lips. Kaya was sitting next to me, wrapped in Usopp arms so I tapped her on the shoulder.

“Kaya, do you have any idea what time it is?” I leaned close to her ear so she could hear me. She took Usopp’s hand and looked at his watch.

“Eleven twenty.” She said as loud as possible over the loud music. I nodded my head and mouthed a ‘thank you’. I took look at our surroundings. The club got even more crowded since we have been here. Sanji and Usopp were chitchatting about something, while Nami was in between Zoro and Luffy taking vodka shots. The VIP podium was a little higher so while my eyes were roaming around, they locked with some random guy. He gave me a smile and raised his drink at me for a greeting. I raised mine just a bit, giving him an awkward smile in return.

“Get up you two.” Nami came and pulled both of Kaya and me up. “We are here to have fun, not to sit like some old people.” She handed each of us a glass of shot. We were about to protest when she pointed her finger at us with a stern look. Kaya and I glanced at each other, and we raised the shot glasses for a cheer before drinking them. I scrunched my face from the after taste and Kaya’s whole body shook. “Now we are talking.” Nami smiled wide.

“I will run to the toilets.” I said to Kaya.

“You want me to come with you?” She gently placed her hand on my mine.

“No, it’s fine, I will be back fast.” I reassured her and turned around to go and search for the toilets. I stopped and asked the security to guided me where I could find them, and he pointed the direction. On my way to the toilets, I had to push through people as everyone was bumping into each other. Someone bumped into me but instead of saying sorry or anything they just stayed there. It was the guy who smiled at me a few minutes ago.

“Hey, you.” He came closer to me and leaned to my ear. “You are quite an eye catch.” He said eyeing me up and down. I gave him another awkward smile as I tried to move past him. But he didn’t let me.

“Sorry I need to go to the toilet.” I screamed over the loud music as I took a step back.

“Give me, your name at least.” He came closer to me again. This guy was making me feel uncomfortable. In comparison to me he was taller, but not very tall. Very muscular, but obviously not naturally. His hair was cut short and somehow it suited his face. He wasn’t ugly, but he wasn’t attractive as well. It didn’t really matter as I was not interested in him at all. I got the hint that he wouldn’t let me go until he gets my name, so I gave it to him. “I hope to get to see you again (Y/N).” He said as he stepped aside. I quickly made my way to the toilet and sighed in relief. This guy gave me the chills.

As the security guy was letting me back in the VIP aera my breath got caught in my lungs. Ace was at our table speaking with Usopp and Luffy. He was standing with his back facing me, but I could recognise his posture and black raven hair from miles away. The security snapped his fingers in front of my face as I had frozen on the spot. I lowered my head and stared to slowly walk to our table. I tried to fix my hair a bit before he could see me. My heart started to beat fast and my mind to run wild. How should I approach him? Or what should I tell him? Before could answer these questions myself Usopp pointed out at me. Ace’s body slightly turned as he turned his head to look at me. He was dressed like the first time I saw them perform, all black with his shirt unbuttoned a bit revelling his muscular chest with his red beam neckless around his neck. Chills ran down all over my body when our gazes locked. His face was unreadable. I finally stood in front of them three, but I couldn’t dare to look at Ace as my shyness took over.

“Where did you go?” Luffy was the first one to speak.

“Toilet.” I shortly replied. My eyes shyly moved to look at Ace as I could feel his eyes on me. A little smile was playing on his lips. Kaya pulled Usopp by the hand for something and Luffy took a step back going back to Zoro.

“You know I don’t bite, doll.” Ace took a step towards me and leaded closer to my ear so I could hear him. Even with high heels on he was still taller than me and I had to look up to meet his eyes. I gave him a playful eyeroll.

“I-I just didn’t expect to see you.” I replied and tried to hide the fact that I got a little nervous seeing him.

“Oh, sorry did you come to see ‘The Ghetto’ tonight? They cancelled so we had to take over.” He joked with me and a big grin spread over his face. I chuckled and pushed his chest playfully to get away from me.

“I thought I won’t see you until after you perform.” I said.

“I got bored and came to say ‘hi’ to Luffy.”

“Only to Luffy?” I gasped and dramatically put my hand to my chest. Ace snorted and tilted his head to the stage.

“Well, enjoy yourself, I gotta go.” He said as he turned to leave, but before he did, he leaned closer to my ear again. “You look flawless, doll.” The way he said it with his low and raspy voice, almost making it impossible to hear him over the loud music, made my legs go numb. Before I could reply, he was gone. As I snaped out of the trance I got in and looked at the table praying that no one saw our little interaction. Someone yelled shots and I reached with my hand and quickly grabbed one from the table. The taste of it burning my insides but after this close encounter with Ace I needed one. Koala and Robin joined us soon after and quickly grabbed a drink for themselves.

The guys came on stage after twenty minutes. They were met with loud applauses. From our spot Luffy whistled loudly and Usopp joined him, while Koala was shouting Sabo’s name. My entire focus was on Ace. He looked so confident, his whole presence and aura filling up the space. His charming smile was big as he ran his hand through his hair. He turned his head to look at Sabo and nodded to him that they could start playing.

If things were different, we were young Skinny dipping, having fun, I remember

His voice was melodious filling the air with a soulful melody. Ace might have been hard to read when it came to his emotions, but when he was singing, he was pouring all of them and his feelings into the lyrics.

What a mistake saying the way I felt I'd say my main influence is myself And 'cause I started young, I learned a ton, I didn't run

I knew this was one of the songs which he wrote himself. When we were looking for locations to shoot their music video, I asked Ace if they wrote their songs together or if it was only one of them who did it. He told me that it depended, but mostly it was Law and Sabo who wrote their songs. I got surprised by his response back then as I always thought he had a big input on the songs, but he added that there were some songs he wrote entirely himself, and the ‘Alleyways’ was one of them.

All I wanted would become everything I ever loved, I remember (I left myself in the alleyway)

Loud applauses and cheering came the moment the song finished.

“Hello, everyone. My name is Ace, the guy playing the drums is my brother Sabo, on my left is Law and on my right is Deuce. We are ‘The Neighbourhood’ and we thank you for being here tonight.” Ace spoke on the microphone and another round of cheers came from the crowed. They didn’t waste any time and started to play their next song.

Their set was amazing. People were singing and dancing, enjoying the night. Even Zoro joined and sang some of the lyrics in their songs. When they sang ‘Compass’ Koala and I sang the loudest of our group. The song was written for her after all, but I had my own special moment with it as well. They wrapped their performance with ‘Sweater Weather’ and the entire crowed sang with them the song. After all it was their most popular song.

“Thank you everyone.” Ace said as they finished with their performance. “This was the first time ever we have played live in front of so many people. Again, a big thank you to all of you who support us. Before we leave the stage, we have two important things to announce.” His smile grew big as he was met with loud cheering. “First we are going on a small tour across the country.” Everyone cheered for them in unison, I even felt my heart skipping a beat when Ace announced it, happy that this was happening. “And second... should I actually tell them guys?” He chuckled playfully as he turned to look at the rest of the band. They nodded at him with big smiles on their faces. “We are working on our first official album which means that a lot of new music is coming your way.” The cheering from the people around was nothing compared to the shock faces of all of us, even Koala and Luffy.

“Did you know about this?” Luffy yelled at her with excitement. She shook her head ‘no’ but both hugged and started to jump happily.

“Did you know Robin?” I asked her as she was standing next to me.

“No, I didn’t. But Law did mention to me that they were going to announce something important tonight other than the small tour.” She explained and gave me a big smile.

The guys left the stage, and the DJ took over again. It would take them some time to join us. I felt a little tipsy from the shots and the two glasses of rum and cola that I drank. Knowing that Ace would be here soon I started to get a little nervous so I tapped Nami on the shoulder and told her that I would be back in a second as I needed to go to the toilet. She was too invested in her conversation with Usopp and Sanji that she didn’t pay me much attention.

It took me some time to reach the toilets. There were some girls crying while others were trying to calm them down. Others were drunk complimenting each other – the whole girl club experience. I washed my hands and looked myself in the mirror. My lipstick was gone at this point only the faint line of my lipliner was visible. I sighed as my lipstick was also in my coat. One girl saw my struggle and offered me her lipstick, but I politely declined. I quickly fixed my hair a bit and left the bathroom. Sudden thirst for water hit me and before I return to our table I went to the bar. I waited around ten minutes until it was my turn to order.

“Hey, can I just have a glass of water?” I yelled at the bartender so she could hear me over the loud music. She nodded and handed me a glass filed up with cold water. I thanked her and moved to the side, so I didn’t hold the queue. Putting the glass down on the bar counter I felt someone behind me. I turned around and the guy from earlier was standing there with two glasses filled up with some drink.

“I saw you again I couldn’t resist the urge to buy you drink. Have been admiring you the whole night so I’ve noticed you drink rum and coke.” He smiled and extended his hand offering me the drink.

“Ha, oh, thanks.” I grabbed the drink as I didn’t want to offend him. The creepy vibes this guy was giving me were growing with every passing second.

“Cheers then.” He raised his glass and clicked it with mine, taking a sip from his. I just gave him a little smile not wanting to take a sip of the drink. “Why aren’t you drinking? You know when you give a cheer you take a sip of the drink.” He came closer to me and yelled so I could hear him better over the loud music. I laughed awkwardly and took a small sip of the drink, hoping that after this he would leave me alone.

“Thank you for the drink, but I have to go to my friends.” I tried to be as polite as possible, but he held me by the shoulder before I had the chance to leave.

“Oh, please at least finish your drink with me here and then I promise if you still find me annoying, I won’t bother you again.” His tone was pleading. “I promise, I’m not some bad guy, I just think you are very beautiful, and I want to talk with you.” I gave him a doubtful look at first and then sighed and nodded. Maybe I was wrong and judging too fast, he might be a good guy after all. I planned to finish the drink fast so I could go back to Nami and the guys. Ace would be there soon, he might be already there as well, and I wanted to speak and congratulate him.

The guy whose name I didn’t catch because of the music started to talk and I was nodding the entire time while sipping on the drink. He asked me questions like if I had a boyfriend and who I was here with to which I answered quick. I finished with the drink and tried to excuse myself, but he stopped me again.

“Please, am I such a bad company? Just give me five more minutes.” At this point I felt bad as I didn’t want to be rude, I was simply not interested in him. I nodded and promised myself it was the last five minutes I was giving him.

I wasn’t sure if it was the fact that it was crowded with people around the bar or the sudden quickened heartbeat, but a heatwave hit me out of nowhere. I started to wave my hand in front of my face trying to get some cold air in my face.

“Hey, are you okay?” The guy asked me with concern written over his face. I tried to speak but nothing came out. “Do you want to go outside? You seemed to need some fresh air.” He didn’t even wait for my response as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders and started to walk me through the crowed.

“N-no, s-stop.” I tried to protest but my words were stumbling. My mouth became extremely dry, and I have never felt such thirst in my life. “I-I want-t to g-go... m-y f-friends... A-Ace...” I tried to push the guy away, but he only tightened his grip around me. I turned my head at the direction where the VIP section was supposed to be, but my vision started to get blurry as I was losing my focus.

“Shh, it’s okay I will get you back to your friends.” The guy said. “We just going to have some fun first.” He whispered in my ear. My mind barely processed what he said the only thing I could feel was the cold air hitting my face and body. Everything around me was blurred and my body felt numb. My heart was beating so fast I was afraid it might explode any second now. The feeling of something bad that was about to happen took over me, but I couldn’t fight or say something. All I could feel right now was confusion and dizziness. With every taken step the numbness in my body was growing. At some point I lost track of time. I heard a voice which sounded so familiar, but I couldn’t recognise whose it was. I only felt being let go off as the guy no longer had his arms wrapped around me and I had to keep my own balance. Keeping my eyes open became impossible, I just felt being pulled into something before darkness took over me.

After the guys were done with the performance Ace left the stage first. The only thing he wanted to do right now was to take a smoke and be in some quite place for a few minutes. The good thing was that behind the club’s stage was a door which was leading to the back entrance to an empty alley. His hands were shaking a bit from the adrenalin he felt while on stage as he opened a new pack of cigarettes.

‘The set went well, it could have been better, but it went well.’ Ace was thinking to himself while lighting up a cigarette. He took a long puff of it, closing his eyes and leaning on the wall. There were a few good things that happened tonight – first the performance went well, which was something he was rarely satisfied with; second was the fact that he didn’t get any narcolepsy attack during it, as this was something that always bothered him, especially tonight. They have never performed around so many people. The max so far had been hundred something, but tonight there were almost five hundred people, which was five times more than usual. And third – (Y/N) was there. She was their all dolled up, watching him perform. Ace wondered if she liked the performance. He glanced at her a few times while he was singing, and he saw her having fun singing along with the rest of the group. Last time he saw her was like a month ago or so, he wasn’t sure. He thought that it was going to be enough time to get rid of the effect she had on him, but he was wrong. Not like she ever escaped his mind during that time. Especially after she called him crying yesterday, and the urge that took over him to do something to make her feel better. The thought of her being in distress about something let alone crying was making him feel so uncomfortable and bothered. He hated that feeling. He never felt like that toward anyone, any girl before, and he couldn’t explain to himself why he was feeling this way towards her.

Three cigarettes later, Ace took a deep breath and went back inside. He quickly made his way towards the section Luffy and the rest of his bandmates were now. Everyone cheered when they saw him and Luffy went to high five his brother.

“Why didn’t you guys tell me about the album?” He yelled at him and Sabo.

“We wanted to be surprised for everyone.” Sabo explained. Koala was wrapped in his arms, and he pulled her even closer to him. Ace snorted and looked around. Everyone was there except (Y/N).

“Yo, Luffy.” Ace grabbed Luffy by the shoulder pulling him closer to whisper in his ear. “Where is (Y/N)?” Luffy smirked as he heard his brother asking for her. He might have been dumb, but Luffy wasn’t blind. These two might deny anything but something was obviously happening between them. He was about to joke with Ace when he realised he hasn’t seen her in a while.

“Nami.” Luffy yelled grabbing Nami’s attention. She came closer to them with a questioning look. “Have you seen (Y/N)?” Luffy asked her as he thought she might know where (Y/N) went. Nami’s eyes widen as she looked at her phone, noticing that it has been at least thirty minutes since you have gone to the bathroom.

“She said she was going to the toilet, but it has been at least half an hour.” Nami said and looked a little concerned at Ace and Luffy. “I will go and look for her.” She tried to pass between them two, but Ace stopped her.

“You are drunk. Stay here, I will go look for her.” Ace sighed. “Also don’t you girls go together to the toilets?” He chuckled at Nami before turning away.

“Ace.” Luffy called after him. “Should I come with you?” The place was big it would be easier if they both searcher for her, but Ace waved his hand dismissively, knowing that it wouldn’t take him long to find you.

He went to look straight to the toilets, maybe there was a long queue. Of course, he couldn’t get in the ladies’ bathroom, but he stopped some girls that were going out of it, asking if they saw her by describing how she looked. None of them have seen anyone described as you inside so he just thanked them and left the bathroom’s hall. He doubted that you would be on the dancefloor, especially alone. Ace made his way to the bar, observing everywhere and everyone carefully to see if he could spot you. His height was in advantage to him but still no luck. He sighed annoyed but also concern started to build up in him. What if something happened to you? You wouldn’t left without telling anyone. He stayed on one spot for a second with his hands place on his hips as he was slowly looking around. His eyes glanced at the entrance/exit hall when for a brief second just before disappearing behind the wall there, something silver and sparkling caught his eye. Ace decided to follow his gut and quickly started to walk towards the hall. He had to push his way a little harder around people as his instinct was telling him that something was not oaky.

When he finally made his way outside it took him a second to spot her and for his blood to started boiling. She was almost a street away, but he could recognise her even if she was standing miles away. His hands tightened into fists and jaw clenched when he saw some guy dragging her with him with his filthy hands roaming all over her body. Ace waisted no more seconds and ran towards her and the man catching up with them in no time.

“If I were you, I would let her go.” His voice was as sharp as knife. Now that he was this close to them, taking look at (Y/N)’s almost numb body and seeing the disorientation in her eyes which she was barley keeping open, he was ready to kill the guy on the spot.

“Fuck off, man. She is little tipsy that is all.” The guy spat at Ace.

The things that unfollowed after were so fast, if someone was looking and if they blinked, they could have missed what happened. The moment these words left the guy’s mouth Ace stopped thinking, he just started to punch. The guy didn’t even have the time to react when Ace landed his first punch on his face, breaking his jaw and making the guy let her go as he couldn’t bare the ache he felt. But Ace didn’t stop there as he landed another punch on the guy’s face. Bringing him on the ground as he stared to lend punch after punch.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt such rage, he wasn’t just seeing red, Ace wasn’t seeing at all. This had only happened once before, and it was when Luffy came all beaten up and stabbed under his eyes after school one day when he was twelve. Both, Ace and Sabo found the guy who did that to their little brother and gave him a good lesson. If it wasn’t for Sabo to pull Ace back that time, he was probably going to kill the guy. Instead, he left him almost disabled, for which Ace was sued to pay him indemnification for ten years in a roll. But this time Sabo wasn’t there, no one was. The guy’s face was deformed at this point until he heard (Y/N)’s voice. He stopped immediately and looked at her. She was shaking uncontrollably, and her eyes were barely open. Ace jumped on his feet as fast as he could just on time to catch her before she hit the ground.

“No, no, no, doll.” He gently tapped her cheek, trying to wake her up. His knuckles were covered in blood. Kneeling with her on the ground while holding her body, Ace pulled out his phone and dialled emergency. The moment they picked up he explained the situation and gave the address. The ambulance was supposed to come any minute now. Ace could hear someone running behind him. He turned to look over his shoulder and saw Luffy and Zoro running towards him with the security as well.

“A-Ace...” Luffy’s eyes widen at the sight in front of him. “What happened?” Everyone was stunned. No one knew what to say or do at the scene in front of them. Even Luffy and Zoro who had many street fights behind their backs had never saw such brutal view. One of the club’s guards even threw up when he looked at the guy’s face who was laying on the ground coughing blood.

“This piece of shit drugged her.” Ace spat still furious. “This is what happened.” He looked at his brother in the eyes.

“We need to call the police and you sir will be in trouble.” Said the other security as he pulled up his phone, but it was snatched quickly from his hand and crushed on the ground by Zoro.

“You take your weak friend, and you walk off, before you follow this guy’s fate, okay?” Zoro’s voice was deep, his eyes were filled with warning for the guards to just walk off and let them deal with the situation. “You better go and keep the wandering eyes away.” He nodded with his head towards the direction of the club where people started to gather with wondering eyes. The security decided to listen to Zoro and quickly went back to the club. The ambulance siren could be heard coming from around the corner.

“Luffy.” Ace said as he got up on his feet with (Y/N) in his arms. “Call Shanks.”

Shanks came out of the hospital room and looked at Ace with stern eyes. He drew in a deep breath before he sighed.

“Thank you, Ace.” He said as he patted Ace on the shoulder.

“How is she?” Ace asked, his voice low. He looked at the window from which he could see (Y/N) laying on the hospital bed.

“She will be okay once they clean her blood. Do you know how it happened?” Shanks glanced at Ace as he was rubbing his temples.

“No, no one knows. I just went looking for her, as the last thing she said to someone was to Nami that she was going to the toilet.” Ace said not moving his eyes from (Y/N). It pained him seeing her in such state. And he was mad at his brother’s friends. How could neither of the girls go with her? Why did she go alone in a first place? How she even ended up drugged by this guy? Didn’t she know to not accept drinks from strangers? Ace was mad at her as well. Because if he didn’t catch the glimpse of her sparkling skirt in that second before she left the club, he didn’t want to think of the things that could of happen to her. His fist clenched, he should have killed that man right there on the spot. Instead, he was still breathing somewhere, and the broken jaw and nose wasn’t enough for a payback.

“Ace.” Shanks called out his name, taking him out of his thoughts. “You can go home. I’m here so she is safe.” Ace side-eyed Shanks not moving from his spot. “And don’t worry no case will be open or anyone would find out that you beat this piece of shit up. I have taken care of it.” This was the last thing Ace was worried about right now.

“Still into the shady business, Shanks?” Ace snorted turning his head to look at Shanks.

“You are not the one to speak.” Shanks bit back.

“I’ve been clean for the past two years now.” Ace’s voice was filled with mockery.

“Ha, you have always been ballsy Ace, but don’t push your luck.” Shanks came closer to Ace. Their height being the same, they looked at the other with too much ego and pride. “Look, Ace. You are not a bad kid, and you know I like you and I would cover for you no matter what...” Shanks took a step back as he didn’t want to fight with Ace as he meant it when he said that he liked Ace as a person. He knew the kid for a long time, and he had a lot of good qualities. “But she is my niece, and you are a player. Whatever is going between you two you better cut it before you get her heartbroken.”

“Nothing is happening, Shanks.” Ace responded as he crossed his arms over his chest. “And I’m not leaving until she wakes up.” This was the last thing Ace said to Shanks as he turned to face the window again. He was tired but he wasn’t going to leave until (Y/N) opened her pretty eyes.

“You are as stubborn as he was...” Shanks knew how these words would affect Ace. He saw the way his jaw clenched, and his muscles flexed under his shirt, but Ace didn’t say anything. Instead, he ignored him, pretending like he heard nothing. Pretending like he didn’t know who Shanks was comparing him to.

END NOTE: I hope you guys liked the chapter and if you did feel free to leave your comments about how it made you feel as I was a little afraid how this chapter might unfold and if this type of stuffs are okay with you to read. I promise there will be no more such 'drugged' scenario, but I can guarantee you that everything that I write has logic behind it for the upcoming events in the story. I also thought it was time for Reader to realise her feelings for Ace, and the whole cake part came up so unexpectedly in my mind I really hope you enjoyed it ♡ Like, comment or reblog if you liked it, and as always A BIG THANK YOU TO ALL OF YOU WHO READ IT ♡

writing, format & dividers © eand47 fanart @a_phu14 on IG ©eand47, do not copy or plagiarise my work.

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acknowledge-reigns · 4 months ago

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Work | Roman Reigns x Black!fem OC (SMUT!!) 18+

Kinktober Day #1: Thigh Riding.

"Cause' baby you're the boss at home..." 🎶

Description: Lilah finds a creative way to snap Roman out of work mode.

Warnings: Thigh Riding, Bratting, Daddy kink, brief nipple play, praise, petnames (babygirl/princess), honorifics (Daddy/My Tribal Chief), Exhibitionism sort've? (The poor wiseman is on the phone when all this starts!)

Face Claim: Jaylen Barron

My Masterlist can be found here and my kinktober schedule/Masterlist can be found here.

As always my stories are about Roman Reigns, Not Joe Anoa'i.

MDNI!!!! 18+ content below the cut.

tag list - @mysticreigns2 @queeny23 @jeyusos-girl @notfancyrebelpaper @xbriexx @skyesthebomb @mzv11 @paigereeder @glitterywitchstarlight @tshepisho

Lilah and Roman lounged around spending time together, enjoying each other's company, Roman had this week off so the two got to just rest. Except for he was sitting there in another world chatting away with his Wiseman on the phone regarding bloodline plans.

Lilah couldn't help but roll her eyes. They were supposed to be off! She'd spent the day baking pumpkin shaped sugar cookies and putting up their Halloween decorations, yet Roman just didn't seem to know how to turn off business mode. She needed to snap him out of it.

Lilah suddenly straddled Roman's lap. She looked at him with a playful glint in her eye and began to slowly move her hips against him.

Roman's eyes widened as he felt Lilah's movements, but he continued to talk on the phone with Paul. He tried to focus on the conversation, but it was becoming increasingly difficult.

"I know, Wiseman.. Yeah. Yeah, we can talk about this later," he said, trying to keep his voice steady.

Roman's hand instinctively went to Lilah's hips, holding her in place as he continued to talk to Paul.

"Paul, I have something important to take care of right now," he said, his voice strained. Lilah giggled to herself as she heard Paul respond with his typical 'Yes, of course, My Tribal Chief."

Roman ends the call immediately, looking at Lilah with intensity in his gaze. "Babygirl... did I give you permission to start doing that?"

Lilah smirked at Roman's question, her hips still moving slowly against him. She leaned in closer, her lips hovering just above his ear.

"No, but I figured you needed a distraction," she whispered, her breath hot against his skin.

Roman growled low in his throat, his hands gripping Lilah's hips tighter. He pulled her closer, his body responding to her movements.

"You're playing a dangerous game, babygirl," he said, his voice husky with desire.

Liilah let out a soft moan as Roman's grip on her hips tightened. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her body pressed tightly against his.

"I know," she said, her voice sultry and teasing.

Roman's lips found their way to Lilah's neck, his mouth trailing kisses along her skin. He nipped at her earlobe, his hands sliding up under her shirt.

"You're such a tease," he murmured, his voice low and rough with desire. "Finish what you started, Princess. Go on. Ride your tribal chief's thigh. If you're cummin' tonight you gon' work for it, baby." Roman said.

Lilah's breath hitched at Roman's words, her body responding immediately to his command. She began to move her hips faster, grinding against his thigh with a needy moan.

"Yes, My tribal chief." she whispered, her eyes locked on his.

Roman watched Lilah with a mix of lust and dominance in his eyes. He loved seeing her like this, completely at his mercy. He moved his hands to begin teasing her nipples, rolling them between his fingers just toying with her as she rode his thigh.

"That's it, babygirl," he growled, his voice low and commanding. "Show me how much you want it."

Lilah's movements became more frantic as she chased her release. She buried her face in Roman's neck, her moans and gasps growing louder as she approached the edge.

"I'm close, Daddy," she panted, her body trembling with need.

Roman's grip on her tightened as he felt her body tense up. He whispered in her ear, his voice filled with authority.

"Come for me, babygirl. Let me see you fall apart."

Lilah cried out as she finally reached her climax, her body shuddering against Roman's. She clung to him, her breath ragged as she rode out the waves of pleasure.

Roman held her close, his hands rubbing soothing circles on her back as she came down from her high. He kissed the top of her head, a satisfied smirk on his face.

"You did so well, babygirl," he said, his voice filled with pride.

Lilah lifted her head from Roman's shoulder, looking up at him with a tired but satisfied smile. She nuzzled her face into his neck, feeling content and loved.

#roman reigns #the tribal chief #wwe roman reigns #head of the table #the head of the table #the only one #the bloodline #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns smut #roman reigns fanfiction #Spotify

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fanfictiongirlie · 2 months ago

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Twilight: The Human and the Wolf Chapter One

Click here for masterlist

Parings: Paul Lahote x OC (First person, no use of Y/N)

Description: Bella Swan's twin moved to Forks with her sister. Whilst Bella falls for a vampire, her twin falls for a wolf. The story runs parallel to Bella's story in Twilight. But following her twin and her life with the wolves.

Rating: Eventually explicit.

Warnings: Nothing in this chapter.

Chapter One - I Met A Cute Guy

Bella and I were the new kids, it was awful, being the shiny new toys, but we'd survive it. I was Bella's twin, I was younger than her by a few minutes, but sometimes, most of the time I felt like the oldest twin. She made sillier choices than me, but I still loved her for it. Our first day at Forks High School, had been, weird, everyone knew our names, and stared at us, even now, as we were sat in the school café, surrounded by a large group of, I guess our new friends, everyone starred.

"Who are they?" Bella asked, I followed her eyeline to see a group of people walking into the building. I stared at them as Jessica explained who they were, they made me feel uneasy, they looked...amazing.. perfect even, I felt stress in the depts of my heart as they walked further into the room. I watched Bella's face, she looked incredibly curious, almost like she couldn't stare away. I shook my head softly and moved back to my sandwich.

"That's Edward Cullen, he's gorgeous of course, but don't waste your time...He doesn't date" Jessica keeps talking, I roll my eyes lightly, these people couldn't be that interesting surely "Apparently none of the girls here are good-looking enough for him" Jessica said the last part like she had personally been rejected from this Edward Cullen. I glance over to the group again, they were pale, and beautiful, but something made me turn away, something deep inside of me.

"Good thing I wouldn't be interested in him" I smirk, still not understanding the excitement over this boy.

"Oh come on, don't be a buzzkill...Edward Cullen is the best looking boy here" Jessica adds, she was looking at me like she couldn't believe me. I laughed softly at her shocked face.

"I'm sorry, he's just not my type" I add, rolling my eyes slightly, I looked over to the group again, my eyes staying on Edward Cullen for a second, he was beautiful yes, but really not my type. I liked the blonde boy more.. But not enough to feel giddy inside.

I watch as Jessica gapes at me, like I had said the most outrageous thing "Not your type? How can you say that, he's dreamy" She sighs happily her eyes on Edward.

"Not everyone has the same type you know" I say my eyes rolling once more, I couldn't help it, the sarcasm was too strong within me, I turned to Bella to see her still staring at the boy "Bells, what do you think?"

I watch as my twin hesitates, her eyes shifting between Edward and myself, she looked uncomfortable, which admittedly was normal for Bella.

"He's....good-looking, I guess" She answers, I eye her up, she was lying. Her words were reluctant, her tone unsure. I shake my head softly not pushing the subject any further, once lunch was over Bella walked to her Biology lesson whilst I walked to my English lesson. I sat with Ben, a boy from the group at lunch, he didn't say much to me, which I was thankful for.

Once school was done for the day Bella and I walked to our cars, well her truck, my car, I had worked my ass off to get it, and it was my pride and joy, it also meant I didn't have to join Bella and my dad when we first got here, I drove myself, yeah the drive took me a day, but it was fun.

"Was your day okay?" I asked Bella, I leant against my car and looked at her. Bella nods as she unlocks her car. "It was okay...Biology was kind of weird"

"Weird how?" I ask. I watch as she hesitates for a moment before responding, her expression reflects a hint of bewilderment.

"Well my partner was" She trails off, her voice becoming quieter as if to avoid any unwanted ears from hearing her next words "Edward Cullen"

"Oh...and how was he weird?" I ask, suddenly feeling overprotected, I looked over to the Cullens in the car park, but Edward wasn't there. Bella glances around, ensuring no lingering eyes or eavesdropping are nearby. She lowers her tone, speaking in a hushed tone.

"I don't know...It was just strange being paired with him. He barely spoke a word, and his expression looked like he was annoyed by my mere presence, almost like he couldn't stand being around me" She explained. I cocked my head confused, of course Bella would think like this.

"Aw Bells, he doesn't even know you, I wouldn't worry...I said to Jacob I'd come see him, why don't you come to La Push with me?" I smile softly. A small grateful smile forms on her lips, she looks a little calmer now.

"No you go ahead, I said to dad I'd have dinner with him at that diner" She explains, I nod and tell her goodbye as she drives off, I climb into my own car and drive out of the wet car park, the rain came down heavy as I drove, I finally reach Billy and Jacob's place, I park my car and get out.

I hear laughter drifting from the backyard, so I walk around, hoping to find Jacob, I smile when I see him with two other people, I feel a little nervous, but overall I was good with people, the complete opposite to my sister, naturally. We didn't even look alike, Bella looked more like our father, whereas I looked more like our mother, my eyes were blue, Bella's were brown and straight, my hair was darker and curly, like my dad's.

"Hey Jacob" I smile softly to the boy, he looked so different, I had seen him in passing the day Bella and I arrived in Forks, that was when I promised to come see him. I visited Forks more often than Bella, and with that, I spent more time with Jacob, but each day recently, he looked different...Teenage boys I guess.

Jacob turns to me, a wide grin spreads onto his face, he tosses the football to one of his friends, the shorter one. Both his friends were grinning at me, their smiles goofy.

"Hey" Jacob called, running towards me, he hugged me tightly, swinging my feet slightly off the ground, I squealed and held on tightly.

"Hey, sorry I didn't mean to crash" I say, looking at him as he puts me down, as my eyes flicker to his friends.

"Nah, it's cool, this is Quil and Embry" He says, both boys wave as their name is called. I smile softly to them, feeling a little awkward. I shrug it off. "We're gonna play some ball, you wanna join?"

"Sure" I smile, Jacob smiles in return, his eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. Quil chimes in excitedly, eager for another player apparently.

"Hell yeah!" He calls. We play with the ball for a few hours, throwing it to one another, kicking it around, we weren't really playing a game, more just trying to keep the ball in our possession. Jacob, Embry and Quil played enthusiastically, their competitive nature fulling their every move. I keep up with them easily, despite the friendly competition, there's a constant stream of laughter and the banter throughout. Time seems to fly by as we lose ourselves into the game. We finally stop when it starts to get dark, I stop playing smiling softly at the boys.

"I better get going" I say, it was nearly dark. Dad didn't like it when I was out too late, and I still needed to fill up with petrol. The three boys say goodbye, looking disappointed that I had to leave. I pop my head in and say goodbye to Billy and finally I get to my car. I start driving until I find a petrol station in La Push, I fill my car up and then walk to the little shop to pay, as I open the door I bump into someone, I shake my head slightly and look up.

"I'm so sorry!" I groan slightly, the boy I bumped in too was muscular, and hurt as I bumped into him. I looked at his face properly, taken back slightly, he was...pretty. He seemed to be around my age, he had long-ish hair, and cute doe eyes.

"No worries" He says casually, his voice smooth and easy as he grins at me. I say sorry again as I walk past him to pay for my petrol, when I walked back outside, I see the boy again, his motorbike was parked next to my car as he washes the window of his bike.

"Hey again" I smile softly. The boy glances up from his bike to me, a faint smile appears on his face.

"Hey" He responds, his attention now away from his bike and on me. He leans against his bike, smirking at me. I lean against my car and blush slightly, his eyes racking over me.

"Sorry again, for earlier"

The boy shrugs off my apology, he seemed relaxed and nonchalant, unbothered by our earlier encounter. "It's cool, accidents happen" He says with a casual tone, his gaze leaving mine as he looks over my car, his eyes move over my car before moving back to look into my eyes.

"Nice ride, that yours?" He asks.

"Yeah, worked my ass off saving up, but yeah, all mine" I say proudly, tapping the car fondly. The boy looked impressed, a hint of respect in his eyes as he looks over my car again, he lets out a low whistle.

"Impressive, took me forever to get this bike" He says, patting the bike's seat, the black leather gleamed in the night air.

"Totally worth the pain though..." I say smiling, I introduce myself, telling him my name whilst smiling at him softly. His eyes sparkled as the moon hit them, it made me feel giddy inside.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Paul" He says in a casual, easy tone.

"Nice to meet you, Paul" I smile softly "I better get going"

Paul gives me a small nod, he returns the smile, his gaze lingering over my face for a moment until he spoke again.

"See you around" He says in a soft, almost wistful tone. There's maybe a sense of reluctant acceptance in his words, as if he wished I would stay a little longer with him. I shook the thoughts from my mind, feeling silly.

"You too, Paul" I smirk as I climb into my car, feeling the blush creep over my face. I look at him again, leaning on his bike, his arms crossed over his chest as his gaze doesn't stray from me.

"Later" He says quietly, his voice barely audible over the sound of my engine starting up. As I drove home I felt a little flutter of excitement as I thought about the boy I had just met. The memory of the short but intriguing encounter with Paul remained fresh in my mind. I found myself replying the brief conversation in my head, feeling a mixture of curiosity and intrigue about the brooding, motorbike-riding boy.

I parked my car outside the house, blocking Bella's truck only slightly, when I walked into the house I saw both Bella and my dad sitting in the living room together, I smiled brightly when I saw them.

"Hey you two"

They turned to look at me to greet me. My dad smiled warmly and Bella gave me a small, soft smile.

"Hey kiddo" My dad smiled, I rolled my eyes a little at the nickname "Did you have a good day?"

"I did, thank you" I responded, a small blush creeping over my cheeks again. I cursed myself inside, I blushed way too easily. My dad of course noticed, he always did when I blushed.

"Someone's looking a little rosy. Had a nice time with Jacob, did you?" He asked, I grimace a little when he thought I was blushing due to Jacob. Jacob definitely fit the 'kid brother' category, he wasn't crush worthy to me.

"Oh yeah, Jacob...Yeah it was fun, I met his friends; Quil and Embry too" I answered, I had momentarily forgotten I had seen the three boys today, my brain was overcome with Paul until dad mentioned Jacob. My dad chuckled slightly at my answer, I felt a little bubble of anxiety, I really hoped he didn't think I fancied Jacob or something, he would definitely tell Billy and I really didn't need that.

"Just hanging out with the boys, huh? Nothing else interesting happen today?" He asks.

"No, nothing" I answer very quickly, I then look over to Bella, who was smirking at the conversation, I used my eyes to motion that I wanted to speak to her upstairs. She quickly realises what I meant and gets up from the couch to follow me upstairs. Once we were out of sight from our dad I grabbed her hand and pulled her quickly upstairs to my room, it was directly opposite hers.

Once in my room I shut the door and looked at her, the blush coming over my cheeks again.

"I met the cutest guy" I said quietly, still worried our dad could hear us. Bella looked at me confused at first, but at my mentioning of a boy she suddenly looked excited.

"A cute guy, huh? Do tell!" She grins, as she gets herself comfortable on my bed. I sit in front of her and grin some more.

"His name is Paul...He's so cute, we spoke for like five minutes, so granted I don't think it counts as meeting someone, but he's cute" I ramble slightly, Bella listens intently, a mischievous look flashes over her eyes.

"Hm, a cute guy named Paul...And you're crushing on him already after only five minutes?" She teases, a smirk on her face.

"Yeah" I giggle softly.

"Must of been a special five minutes"

"Maybe Bells, he's a cute guy I'll probably never see" I mutter a little sadly. Bella and I chat for a little longer until our dad was finally telling us to go to bed as we had school the next day. We giggled and chatted for longer until finally, we both went to bed.

(I do not consent my works to be posted anywhere else, by anyone other than myself)

#fluff #twilight imagine #paul lahote x reader #twilight x reader #twilight smut #twilight x oc #paul lahote x oc #paul lahote imagine #paul lahote smut #paul lahote twilight #paul lahote

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richeeduvie · 6 months ago

Text

Birds of a Feather || PART TWO

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.

TWO: Take It From The Top Darkish!Aaron Hotchner x Reader

-- PART ONE -- RICHEEDUVIE'S MASTERLIST --

How you got onto the team. When it was over for him, and as tragedies and love stories go, it's always at the beginning. Aaron knew it even then, the way he was thinking about this woman who he just met - the way his head twisted slight attraction into...not so much more. Aaron can always convince himself, for the sake of you and team and his mind, that it's nothing at all.

But this is only the beginning, even then, he knew it was going to get worse as the months went on.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.

5K WORDS

WARNING: Same as Part One. Slow burn? Mentions of death, violence, things of a graphic nature. Criminal minds stuff. pre-Jealous, possessive, and overprotective Hotchner. Entitled behavior. Toxic thought process, not behavior and relationships yet. OC!Hotch sorta cause I don't think he'd turn into this crazy of a person, but reader's just that hot lol. More tags to come maybe cause Hotch is only going to get worse. Maybe reader POV next part?

BCS AND SUCC SUCC GIRLIES I'M SORRY MY MOM IS MAKING ME REWATCH CRIMINAL MINDS AND SHE'S JUST GOTTEN SURGERY, YOU CAN'T BLAME A WOMAN WHO HAS GOTTEN SURGERY...You should be thinking Hotch Daddy any writing motivates me to write about Princesa chugging Lalo's cock down her throat, or a mewling Roman.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.

Six Months Earlier. Following The Day You Met The Team.

As you got around to reading about him, Hotch got around to reading about you in his hotel room, just an hour and a half away from his actual home. It was easier to ignore the way you looked in the station, the bright ray of life that was searing in your smile. It was also too easy to ignore how ridiculous it is to feel that way about a person, a young woman he just met.

But the others saw it too.

It didn’t take an FBI profiler to know that you have a habit of…brightening the world around you. When he didn’t know you all that well, it was a fact. Barely interesting at most. There isn’t a need for, and yes, it’s a juvenile description, but a bubbly person…bubbling when three women are dead and there’s supposed to be two more on the way. But it doesn’t take away from anything, the same way Garcia’s demeanor never takes away the fact that she gets the job done every time.

It didn't take FBI agents to see what you were. Young, bright, and extremely talented when it came to your work. An ebullient woman at her most nervous. You were there helping them and in that, he saw his team become bright themselves under the way you spoke. Even when you curse a bit too much under your breath, the one thing they would learn goes against your wholesomeness, things like that and your general self-deprecation, your inward agitation, they all found it endearing.

Aaron would not. He would not find anything platonically endearing as much as he did not find those sorts of things attractively endearing. But maybe now, it’s those things he takes as reason to see you as a person to protect, to shelter.

In the six months he’s had you on the team, you’ve proven you’re more than capable of protecting yourself, that a bubbly, kind personality doesn’t mean defenselessness. With time passing, Aaron has slowly cared less and less about attempting not to see you as the opposite for his own selfish reasons.

But if they’re there, he doesn’t know what the reasons are. If he can’t, isn’t it more likely for you to be more defenseless and in need of safety than you seem? But it shouldn’t matter, either way. He won’t do anything with it.

Won’t act on anything.

A profile (which is what people call them actually, he's sure) in the New Yorker is objectively impressive. Aaron can't beat around that.

It was bare when it came to the personal aspects of your life, nothing much outside of your self-subsistent career. At the time, it felt disrespectful of a talented, well-meaning and investigative stranger to press thought onto the parts that detailed questions and paragraphs of your familial issues with your previous partner, family in general - bits of it went into questioning on how it affected your career, your desire to help people, even your obvious and innate skill on empathic investigation. Aaron wished he could say there was no reason to ask those questions. With morals? There was every reason not to go there, but in his career, he makes those relations day after day.

No, he did not press on it.

Name, age. A more detailed version of what you gave when you met the team. He did not press thought onto the little personal aspects that were given.

‘In scribblings on blogs and smaller articles, there’s always the implication that the reason why Girl Sherlock is so motivated within her work is that said motivation is a result of her past issues surrounding her family, particularly with her father and ex-boyfriend, Anthony. When pushed on this, the young investigator makes sure to make no comment of substance.’

“There’s nothing there that would help people realize who I am and why I do what I do.”

‘Out of respect, I do not ask further. Out of the need for the truth, more in-depth research done after the actual interview leads to records of her parent’s divorce papers. Family-wise, there is not much information that can be found besides the separation of the mother and father. But, it’s the multiple domestic violence charges against Anthony Bogosian that bring concern. There was no conviction. Though the assumption is that the general audience of her work as well as this profile is an audience not made up of private profilers, it doesn’t take much to assume that if Girl Sherlock was the recipient of abuse, it would explain why she especially takes to cases of a domestic nature.’

The actual day, the first one with you went smoothly. There would not be a chance where the team didn’t make a comment on you the moment you left the room.

“I lost my red-bottom heel at a bar called Charm’s Chamber when I was twenty-six.”

“I’m not that much older, but when I was twent-”

“We know which degree you finished earning while at the BAU when you were her age, Reid.”

Reid went silent after Emily’s needed interruption.

“Three serial killers. Or…what she thought was three at first, doing all that? Bringing this here?” Derek’s leanback was a gesture to the table, the files. “It’s crazy, and were these all cases the FBI rejected?”

Aaron saw the way J.J’s eyes and its blue shift were a flinch in a way. He didn’t blink as he stood to look at the board. “There were cases I thought took priority, I mean…I remember the Wyoming Skinner but we had-I mean…I don’t know how we, I didn’t go back on it-”

“It’s not your fault, don’t dwell on it.”

He could imagine J.J looking at him. “Yeah, J.J. I didn’t mean to call you out. It’s not your fault there’s too many psychos across the states, we’ve seen it. But I don’t know how I haven’t heard of her, a private investigator can have their hits, I know some who were former feds but this? I was reading up on her-”

“Me too.”

“I already knew.”

“It’s crazy, man. It’s a real help anyway. But a big accusation, one killer with three northern state personas - with different signatures. But she explained.”

That you did. Well and nervous. Aaron could see how you took Rossi’s word, but the bite of your lips, the slow-down of your fingers tapping unevenly on the table.

“You can take it slow.”

Rossi’s compassion for his team has always worked better than his spitefulness towards an unsub.

He turned away from the board. Then they were looking at you just outside of the station, on the ground squatting in search of a hairclip.

“She explained.”

He still doesn’t understand how you could’ve been so caught up in looking for it. And Aaron didn’t know the team thought he was going to say more.

“...Hotch?”

He turned away.

They were all just looking at him.

“But Morgan’s right, it is a big accusation. I think we’ll have to find more substantial evidence that can prove it could be the same unsub. I already have Garcia working on similar cases in Ohio and Montana in general, more vague research. We have to start big.”

He turned back, your hair was falling over. He didn’t sigh, but he felt like he should’ve. You were getting your hands dirty.

“Should somebody help her?”

It was Morgan again.

“I’ll go, I’ve been meaning to ask her what she meant when she described her investigative method as ‘interpreting the evidence’.”

Reid went quickly, leaving his messenger bag behind. Aaron turned back to the group, he watched Emily and she shuffled through the files.

“Well, even though I think she meant her method was a glorified version of profiling, it’s all impressive. I mean…this is, I don’t mean to fawn…we’ve had good men and women in stations all over who knew how to do their job and do it more than well but she’s done all of this alone and she does it as if it’s a door-to-door salesman sort of deal.”

Emily put that slight and dragging emphasis on every sixth to seventh word as she leaned over the table.

He remembers thinking then, that maybe he did press a little. Aaron thought that Garcia most definitely could’ve done a better job finding out about your life than that New Yorker journalist could’ve done about you.

“It’s obvious she’s very skilled. But we haven’t seen her out in the field.”

There was silence that he didn’t know meant something, Rossi’s eyes meeting Morgan’s. J.J’s meeting Prentiss’s.

“Out in the field? I don’t think she’s even been out in the field, she’s a talented investigator with what looks to be a budget of seventy dollars, not an official agent in training.”

Aaron pressed his middle finger to the tip of his thumb, eyes unblinking at Rossi leaned back in his chair.

“Are we taking her out for investigational interviews…or to wherever the unsub drops the next victim if he has a chance?”

They were all staring at him. Again. To him.

“If she came out from San Diego to be here and if she’s been allowed on three cases where victims were being skinned, decapitated, brutalized, then there shouldn’t be the assumption she can’t handle what we’ll find here. She’s come here to make a stretched accusation, she’ll make herself useful.

It came out harsher than expected. Not in tone, every word is punctual, calm as Aaron makes them, maybe slightly lower. But the words themselves were nearly demeaning. He didn’t know why. There was nothing about your cheerful, bloomed nature that he came to resent yet. Maybe it was how Hotch himself came to be, a man already cold and colder and closed off due to everything and everything, so a beautiful woman who smiled too much, who managed to get Doctor Spencer Reid on the concrete was someone his brain immediately chose to be more cautious around. Showing any other personality that wasn’t stoic, but not unkind would not be suitable.

Maybe his subconscious was already trying to save himself from the beginning.

“There goes his germophobia.”

“It doesn’t take a lot to get a man doing something he’d never think to do for a woman he thinks is pretty.”

Prentiss scoffed, arms crossed with a stare on Morgan. “He’s known her for twenty minutes.”

“It usually takes less.”

The women of the team shook their heads, a humorous and semi-truth from Rossi that Hotch guessed they agreed with, but Prentiss’s head gestured towards the station’s door. “She’s…bubbly. With the mouth of a sailor.”

His exact description. He followed her stare to the doorway, Reid was there. He couldn’t fault the younger agent on his team for thinking you were pretty. It was amusing as well, to see Reid with his knees digging into the concrete. Good exercise for him, really - and it was even more amusing to see him so readily open…almost in admiration for Girl Sherlock.

When Hotch thinks of this memory, it’s near-guilt. What he felt at the sight of you and you and Spencer was humorous amusement, it didn't feel that way.

There’s less near-guilt when he feels like he should blame you.

“Let’s move before she loses something else.”

Aaron didn’t mean it as a joke, but with the way he saw the team react, it’s like he did - which usually when he does, they always act as if it’s the first time he’s ever made one. But they went, Rossi pulling on Reid’s ear on the way out.

A smile from you to each profiled passing by, a clip now in your hair.

Why couldn’t he look away?

A smile up at him.

“Are you willing to come with us to the dumpsite?”

Eyes widening and the smile up at him. A pretty girl who has nothing to smile about, but it was exciting to you, he guesses. Aaron can’t remember if it was ever exciting to him, the means of the job were always just a duty, even when he was younger.

“Yes, I’d be honored - or…not…it’s dumpsite so not particularly excited that it’s happening, but-”

“You’ll take the car with me and Rossi.”

You nodded. “Yes, sir.”

And like the stereotypical mimicry that exists when you stand in front of someone so open - objectively attractive, he nodded too.

His eyes flickered.

“Hotch…or Hotchner will do. But if you’re used to sir, I can’t stop you.”

That was the first time he talked to you outside of when you met him. It was met with another smile.

“No figure of authority has ever been able to stop me.”

Hotch was sure you meant that to be a joke, and he gave it to you. It was funny. You’re a funny girl. You know how to light the room up even without an intentional joke, which you might find a negative - when your cursing or stumbled ramblings end in someone else’s laughter. But it’s not, it could never be. He’s sorry enough that he doesn’t give in more often, nothing more than a small, sly smile.

Like the one he gave then.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.

Aaron flexed his hand in the hotel bed, it was 2:12am. In a few days, you were found to be right about the killers being a singular monster. One for no particular reason other than a dangerous mix of sadism and psychopathy. A man born in Montana who traveled the northern states for his job, and with each state - five women were to be killed. In all the Northern U.S states. Every single one.

There was difficulty in finding him to be that one unsub because in his words….in his words,

“I wanted to, I could. I did.”

Michael Bakalova. The Akron Phantom, the Wyoming Skinner, the Northwind Killer. When the news broke of his capture, the outlets named him the North American Butcher. Those were names Hotch didn’t want to remember, he was to go against the news cycle and the grain and remember his victims because he knows there’s more outside of what they found. But he thought of Michael Bakalova and what he said when they caught him.

Those women weren’t surrogates, not one was a target of his rage for a reason other than he wanted to, he could. He did. But in the brutality, there wasn’t any rage, no.

Pure satisfaction, bliss. It’s what Aaron couldn’t find even after they caught him. But they found that sort of reaction in the kills with you at the station, team in a circle. Penelope on the screen.

“I see we’re just letting any cutie waltz right into a case, huh?”

“Garcia.”

“Sorry, sorry, Boss! I’m Penelope.”

“What did you find?”

Aaron doesn’t know when he doesn’t have his arms crossed or straight at his sides. But you were there before you went to look for that clip of yours and your eyes would meet his. And Aaron…he’s lucky enough that he feels that it’s absurd that he prides himself in the way he doesn’t bash and turn away like a schoolboy. That pride acknowledges there’s something in his hands and chest when he looks at you, and feels it’s absurd is self-awareness.

You always turn away first. He won’t ever be the first one to look away.

“I like your pink pen edging into view.”

“She has a similar one.”

They looked to him. You looked to him, eyes wide and bright. That’s all you, you can’t force that type of light to shine. Heaven knows he tried with Haley, for her. To let up on his serious nature, it was easier earlier in their relationship, it’s easy with Jack. But you make figurative gleaming seem like there’s nothing to it.

But sometimes, in the dark, Aaron thinks about you and realizes that the light can’t be figurative, that he sees it on your skin and through your clothes. In your smile, it’s why he can’t look away.

“...I didn’t pull that one out.”

The fluffy blue pen that hid in your bag, Aaron could make the deduction that you, already nervous and having presumably little experience with federal agencies and this area of professionalism, that that pen would not be suitable, it would demean you by looks alone. And he doesn’t know why…to put it objectively, called you out.

“It’s peeking out of your bag.”

But Garcia’s presence let you know a pen that’s fluffy is more than okay. And…Aaron wanted that out of his presence too, though he still thinks that’s unnatural. It’s not possible when you’re you in the saw and he’s him in crossed arms.

“Sir…I don’t know how to respond to that, because that has never happened before - so yes, what I’ve found-”

Moth to a flame, bird into the sun. Something he’ll forget he thought about himself to convince himself that there are no feelings. There is nothing different about you.

Michael Bakalova and his names and names made Aaron’s chest break back against his lungs every time he took a breath, it made him feel like he would drown in the sheets - but then he’d flex his hand and unfortunately, a breath would let up when the movement would trigger the memory of helping you over a step.

“Thank you, Sir Hotchner.”

It wasn’t a joke, you brought your voice to a lower tone. You meant to call him that with maturity.

Amusing girl.

Soft hands, kind squeezes so carefully that Aaron can assume that you think you’ll somehow hurt him. That’s not possible. Not just because you’re you, but he’s him…

What could you do that’d hurt him? Nothing, he’s sure. Maybe if he could think of things, he wouldn’t view you as defenseless as he does. But Aaron knows he’s wrong in that too.

They couldn’t have done it without you. Ignoring the unfortunate name Girl Sherlock, you were extremely talented. Are. But then, to see you in your element and in the field. You were natural within the investigative questioning when it came to people relevant to the victims. The questions and insights you had at the dumpsites (Talent and passion didn’t defeat the fact they needed Michael Bakalova to kill another victim while they were on the case to find him, it never does).

You were amazing. And the sun shined down on you well. You take light in well.

“You can take off that coat.”

He didn’t see the way Rossi’s head tilted his way, eyes slightly smaller. A thought growing in smugness. You smiled.

Aaron looked at the grass under his shoe, there was mud on leather. There was dirt on your knees. Why are you getting yourself dirty when you don’t have to? What’s so important about a clip that you brown the softness of your hands? Where did you learn that that was okay? That it was okay to take the help of strangers? Reid, a good, overzealous and well-meaning stranger, but a stranger nonetheless.

He stared right into you, unsmiling. His suggestion was genuine and unhumorous, but you brightened under the sun nonetheless.

“It’s cold. That’s Virginia's fault. Not mine. But thank you. And this, obviously it’s miles - across state lines but I’m telling you, if you look at the dumpsites in Wyoming, Ohio, and Montana. It’s nearly the same. Country-like backroads. They’re all distant from each other, but it’s an area he feels comfortable in. That couldn’t be just chance.”

“But change in signature, that means we need to make up for that assumption with more evidence.”

His head followed yours as you looked around.

“It has breaks in between, there’s no physical evidence to say he’s just picking a method of kill and torture to have fun with it…but it’s not like it’s different with each victim. Five decapitated one state, five skinned in another.”

You were looking towards a tree, and it would’ve only been you to know that that tree made a difference, you were there three states before.

“What is it?”

“..I’ll be back.”

He remembers the way he and Rossi looked at each other while you were off with a confused-looking police officer.

“So this is what Arthur Conan Doyle was going on about.”

“Dave.”

“Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Sorry, Sir Hotchner.”

Aaron nearly glared. Rossi and him slowly made their way towards you.

“Think of it, we’re Scotland Yard. Have you talked to her officially? Besides when she greeted us and when you asked her to come with us.”

“What do you think there is to talk to her about? Officially and alone?”

“I don’t know, I think she’s an interesting case. I like her, she’d be a good fit. Reid can give you a detailed recommendation, apparently.”

“It’s a lot, and she’s just a consultant. We’ve had those before, she is…unique. It’s admirable, but it’s a stretched suggestion.”

“You’ve used that word twice today, and I do understand. But I don’t know why you would say it as if you haven’t been observing her like this case is her pre-BAU assessment.”

Aaron stepped over a leaf. “Have you taken to her, David?”

“...Wouldn’t hurt to have another nice newbie agent around. Work on the lectures and lessons through someone who needs it.”

“You mean a fan?”

“Oh, she knows you too. Remember?”

He wouldn’t indulge Rossi with a slight smile and softening on a brow with that one as they met up with you.

“Before I ramble on again, I apologize for the rambling and the murder exposition vomit back at the station. I don’t mean to toot my own horn - or use the word toot but I am proud of my work…but you guys are the agents, I could’ve just thrown you the papers and you would’ve gotten here with me.”

“Nevermind that, kid. We’ve had worse. Speaking of which, if Reid comes at you again with his tangents, don’t be afraid to tell him to stop. Or walk away.”

Aaron remembered Reid’s ramblings, ones that were fascinating, not in topic - but to see Spencer believe you’d be interested in what he had to say, another person around his age with interests he knew…from your online, blogging persona. The team saw you.

“Nightmare on Elm Street was actually inspired by Wes Craven reading the news. Throughout 1981, the Los Angeles Times ran a series of articles about otherwise healthy Laotian refugees who had mysteriously died in their sleep, apparently after experiencing violent nightmares-”

“Reid.”

He saw you.

Of course, he didn’t give you a gun and let you on a chase through streets for a serial killer even though he’s sure Rossi would’ve let you if given the chance.

He didn’t let you anywhere near Michael when it came down to catching him. And that was right, what he said gave him reason to let you on a plane back to San Diego, despite the team’s (Rossi’s knowing eyes, Reid not so obvious obvious platonic gushings over you) want to let you have at the BAU, despite Hotch himself knowing if he give someone a chance, it’d be you. But Hotch tries to forget about what he said, because he didn’t let you go home to San Diego. And he’s finding himself more of a fool every time he convinces himself that it was for the team.

It was for the team.

But the one who brought the case together for the team sat at the police station, waiting patiently to see if the case she worked so hard on for months, through victims and victim’s parents, loved ones.

“It’s over?”

He nodded.

“It’s over.”

And in the fluorescent lights of the station, he saw your smile as he did and has and will a thousand times over. But it wasn't genuine. The cases you worked so hard on, the passion you put in to bring families closure - not out of government duty with a team that’s family, but instead alone…there was no closure for you. You weren’t satisfied.

You were like them at the end of every other case.

“I have to stop through Wyoming. And Ohio. And Montana. I need to tell those families in person, they’ve probably already caught the news but…I think it’ll do good. Or maybe it’s selfishness, because I know I have to.”

His head lowered slightly. “It’s not selfish. Those families came to you, you became attached to their closure. You deserve to let that in with them as much as families do.”

You nodded, but then you disagreed. “Maybe a little less than them?”

Aaron took a pause. You asked like he would change his mind on what he just said.

Amusing. Taunting. Teasing.

Maybe he was thinking your smile was cheekier than it was, because what would it mean that you would do that to him? That you liked him then? No, not you. Not a young, beautiful woman who sees he doesn’t smile or laugh because it’s not the job, it’s not just him and he won’t indulge you. Not when you just met him and you know he’s a widower with a six year old son.

It’s that, or it’s just that you were having your fun. He wouldn’t appreciate that.

Not at all.

He didn't think of his slight smile through then. He couldn’t, you were in front of him - he wasn’t in bed flexing a hand.

“Maybe a little less, then.”

And there was silence between the both of you, but the world around kept itself busy because the team was all over, exhausted. There was still paperwork to do, reporters everywhere. But Hotch can’t remember how it just got to be the two of you.

He pressed his middle finger into his thumb, trying to mimic a heartbeat because it was fatuous, the way his heart sped up.

You’re just a talented woman that would make a great profiler. But he would have to think logically. He did in the moment. Maybe it’s an exaggeration to say he knew from the start that you would be on his team, there were slew of issues to expand on. One, the fact that you weren’t an FBI agent. You (according to your New Yorker profile) had no law enforcement experience to begin with. You didn’t live in Virginia. You were twenty-six. Reid was barely thirty but he had five degrees or so to make up for it. And heart.

You had heart. He could see it, smile or not.

Aaron remembers making the choice to turn his head away from you.

“So…is the BAU hiring?”

It snapped back. So quickly to the point where it caught your smile dropping.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, that was-that was a joke-”

“Let’s get you back to the hotel.”

“...Really, I-”

“It’s alright. Let’s go back.”

And his hand just hovered over your back. It’s not like he’d feel the way your back curved under the coat you wore for the whole case. Hotch didn’t, still doesn’t want to realize that he would’ve let his hand touch, actually touch if it was anyone else - but with you, this woman with her hair behind her ears - the one who waited patiently at the station and watched aimfully as Michael Bakalova passed her and into a cell. It felt like it would’ve been disrespectful.

The thoughts towards you aim differently than everyone else, even then. His touch would make his heart beat quicker and he would think about the one moment where he did touch you. Over and over in his hotel room, then in his own bed.

And it was as if the thoughts would’ve shifted further down if he did touch the small of your back.

But Aaron should’ve, because it didn’t matter anyway. The thoughts shifted down nonetheless, and they do with every passing night and smile. Your smiles have to be natural, effortless - unknowing and naive to what it does to him, which wouldn’t be your fault, his face and stern lines never give way.

But if the smiles aren’t, the giggles, the head tilts, if they are not naive and defenseless and in need of protection and are instead purposeful flirtations, moments where you revel in making him suffer and harden…Aaron will not appreciate it at all. He will not tolerate that sort of behavior. That won’t get past him.

And he wouldn’t put punishing you past him.

“Thank you, Sir.”

Then you smiled at him.

He led you up to your hotel room, a fortunate coincidence that you took the same hotel the tema did, Aaron didn’t have the means or awareness to think those kinds of thoughts.

He was trying to remember when he saw a face he couldn’t stop staring at. Maybe never, but hopefully not never. Maybe Jack. and for the sake of Haley, for the sake that at that moment, you were supposed to be just a woman, hopefully not never.

“Have a nice night.”

“You too, Sir.”

Nice wasn’t what he would describe the night he had before they left for Quantico. You, Aaron, both were lucky they didn’t have to catch the plane. He closed his eyes, opened them - stared into the ceiling with one hand flexing and fingers tapping together, the other hand lying flat on his stomach.

What were you wearing to bed that night?

He thought something along the lines of that before he dug his nails into his palm with the curl of his fists.

What was the point of not touching you if it meant he would think those kinds of things? He tried.

He thought that. Michael Bakalova.

“I wanted to, I could. I did.”

He pressed his hand into his forehead. Aaron needed to think of anything else and quickly.

2:44am.

The team was right, he was right against the surface logic and challenges that would ensue the minute he would put you with the BAU. You would be an asset to this team. You were an amazing consultant. You would be an even better agent. Of course, that would be if you wanted to join in the first place.

That not being the case would only be the case if you were just having fun - flirtations and head tilts. He said he wouldn’t tolerate that. You were to join the team, there was no doubt about it.

He knocked on your door in the morning and dreamt about opening it in silence in the night.

#hc's #drabble #birds of a feather #BOAF!AU #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #criminal minds #hotch x you #aaron hotchner x you #yandere x reader #yandere #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch imagine #criminal minds fanfiction

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signfromeywa · 23 days ago

Text

AUNGIA TA EYWA (A SIGN FROM EYWA)

Chapter 07: Back in the enclosure

Description:

Anastasia Novak is a behavioural scientist tasked with socializing a captive Na'vi on behalf of the RDA. The longer she works with the Na'vi and the closer she gets to him, the more she has to rethink everything she thought she knew and redefine her morals and values. Can she just carry on like this, or will she follow her heart?

Content: Rating +18, Avatar fanfiction, human x Na'vi ship, Na'vi captured

Characters: Human OCs: Anastasia Novak, Steven Turner, Patra// Na'vi OCs: Ean'tu,

Word Count: 3439

⊹˚₊‧─────────────────────────────‧₊˚⊹

❗️English is not my native language! I apologize very much if it reads a bit bumpy here and there.

I’m a German author and this is the first time I’ve tried to translate a story I’m working on into English and upload it. I still hope you enjoy it.❗

The airlock opened and Ana stepped into his old enclosure with Ean'tu by the hand. After a few more weeks, the cultivation of the new plants had finally been completed and Ean'tu was able to move back into the old enclosure. Ana had been eagerly waiting for this, it gave them more privacy but also more space and comfort for the Na'vi. Thanks to the great trust Ean'tu already had in Ana, they were once again able to move on foot. There had been no need to sedate him or use other heavy measures. He trusted her and had walked calmly by her side back to his enclosure. It was always a big risk, Ana was aware of that. He could try to escape at any time, which she would even understand. The desire for freedom certainly burned deep in his heart and Ana felt the same way. This thought was also growing in her mind. The Na'vi could not stay here forever. That wasn't right.

Turner called over the radio: "Novak, everything okay so far?"

"Yes, we arrived safely at the enclosure, you can give the all-clear." Ana replied and Ean'tu looked at her. By now his English wasn't bad at all, she could hardly believe how incredibly quickly he was learning. Communicating with him had become so much easier but also more intimate.

"Was that the other minder of mine?" he asked quietly, still with a strong accent despite his good English.

"Yes, that was Turner, he wanted to know if everything had worked out." Ana looked up at Ean'tu, he hadn't been able to hear the radio because she had a small headset in her ear.

"I'm sure he just wanted to know if I'd done something to you." He still didn't trust Turner and obviously didn't like him. So far, he had also refused any contact with Turner.

"No, he knows you won't hurt me, he's on our side, even if it's hard to believe." Ana stroked Ean'tu's hand and then led the way. "Look, they really did grow the plants in question."

Ana tried to lighten the mood a little. She knew they were still in a prison, but they had to make the best of it. Ean'tu walked past Ana, over to the plants and stroked the leaves. She could see a slight smile on his face, which then gave way to a dull, sad look. Did he remember his home? Should Ana perhaps ask or was that inappropriate and would only open old wounds?

To her surprise, Ean'tu herself began to tell the story, "Sa'nu and I used to go out a lot to collect these leaves. She was a good teacher, she taught me how to weave."

"Your mom?" Ana came over to him and also touched a leaf. He nodded sadly. "Where's your mom now?"

"I hope with Eywa..." it was almost a whisper from Ean'tu, his words sounded sad and heavy. Ana didn't know what exactly they meant, but she thought it had a similar meaning to when people wished their loved ones were in heaven. She would not realize how serious the words really were until much later.

Ean'tu seemed to be grieving. Ana would have liked to know so much more about his childhood, but she didn't dare ask. It just didn't seem to be the right moment. The Na'vi closed his beautiful eyes for a moment and seemed to pause. Then he took a deep breath and turned to face her again.

"I can show you how we weave ribbons." he struggled to smile to hide his sadness.

"I'd love to learn from you." Ana was excited by the idea. So far, Ean'tu had only learned from her and she had felt bad about imposing her culture on him. It was only appropriate that she also learned to understand the Na'vi and their way of life.

Ean'tu nodded. "Okay, I'll look for some nice leaves later so we can start tomorrow. Today I would like to ask you for something."

Ana listened with interest. "Yes?"

"My hair is soft and beautiful again thanks to you, I wonder if you can put it back together for me?" he took his hair and held it together in a half-up hairstyle.

"Yes, I can do that if you like. Tell me how you want it, I'll help you." Ana was proud and honored. It was the first time Ean'tu had actively asked her for help. "I have to get out of the enclosure in a minute, we've got a delivery. I'm sure I'll find everything I need there."

These were the things Ana had asked for. They included all sorts of things. From fabrics and materials to clothing. She didn't know what the Na'vi normally wore, so she had asked her secret contact. They gave her a rough description and Ana had to choose things based on this rough information. She hoped he wouldn't hate the things she had chosen.

"Okay, I'll wait for you at the tree." He smiled at her again, with that warm, friendly smile. Every time he did, her heart leapt for joy. He touched her on the head, almost as if he wanted to stroke her cheek, which was unfortunately not possible thanks to the mask. Instead, he stroked her neck and turned away to go to the tree. His only place of retreat.

Ana breathed a heavy sigh and tried to ignore the longing tugging at her heart. It was wrong, she kept telling herself so as not to lose her reason. Then she too made her way through the airlock to accept the delivery she had ordered.

When she arrived at the top of her department, Turner was already waiting for her among a pile of delivery boxes. He had a digital clipboard in his hand and seemed to be checking that everything was there.

When Ana came into the room, he looked up from his work. "Out of the enclosure so soon?"

"I want to get some things out of the boxes, I hope everything I asked for is there." Ana walked over to the boxes, put her hands on her hips and looked at the mountain of boxes. With a bit of bad luck, it would be a while before she found what she was looking for.

" Have you seen, the plants have settled in well in the enclosure, they look great."

"Yes, Sky has already had a closer look at them too. They were very satisfactory. The responsible staff have done a good job." Ana took the first box, opened it and looked through the contents. "You could take the other boxes from the pile and put them in a row."

Turner nodded and set to work. She was grateful for his help, the boxes looked heavy. "What exactly are you looking for?"

"I requested hair accessories for Sky and some clothes." Ana stuck her head up to her shoulders in one of the boxes and rummaged around.

"I'll help you find it." Turner also opened one and rummaged through the contents.

After what felt like a while and three boxes later, Ana emerged triumphantly. "I've got it!" she pulled the hair ornament out of the box and held it up solemnly. Then she turned to Turner? "So, have you had any luck yet?"

He also straightened up, but shook his head. "No, not yet. I'll try the last box." He opened it and began to search. "I have to say Novak, that's a lot of stuff I don't know what you want to do with."

Ana grinned and came over to Turner. "I won't be able to do anything with it either, but I'm sure Sky knows exactly how to process all the materials. Otherwise, he and I will figure it out together."

Turner paused. "I think that's what you were looking for. At least that's my guess."

He pulled out a pair of pants, they were made of light beige fabric and were very breathable. On Ean'tu they would fit loosely, comfortably and give him enough leg room.

"Yes, exactly, then the other parts should be in there too." she leaned over to the box and picked out the second part of the set. It was also a loose fabric that was wrapped around the chest and fastened at the neck. "I hope he likes it, definitely better than the old leather rag he's wearing now." Ana stroked the fabric.

Turner nodded in agreement. "I think he'll be pleased, at least you've put some thought into it and I'm sure he'll appreciate it."

"Good, then I won't keep him waiting any longer. Take a break, you've done a lot of work. The break will do you good." She smiled gratefully at Turner. Ana knew that he organized and worked a lot for Ana and Ean'tu. Without him, she wouldn't know how she could manage it all, he was a good ally.

Turner looked at her hesitantly for a moment. "Are you sure you'll be all right?" he still seemed slightly worried.

"Yes, you can trust Sky. Just like I do." Ana assured him.

He sighed. "All right, but be careful. I'll be in the canteen."

Ana nodded and grabbed all her things and her laptop, then went back into the enclosure. She had put the clothes and hair accessories in a smaller cardboard box to make them easier to transport.

Packed full, she arrived at the tree in the enclosure, where Ean'tu had said Ana would find him. Before she had walked the last few meters, however, someone grabbed the box. Ana looked up and saw Ean'tu standing behind her. She hadn't even heard him approach her. He was always so gentle and quiet.

"I'll take something for you." he said kindly and smiled.

"That's sweet, thank you." Together they walked to the large trunk of the tree and set the things down. Ana sat down on a raised root while Ean'tu looked curiously into the box.

"What did you bring?"

"Clothes." Ana answered him and he looked at her questioningly. "For you, I think it's time you get rid of that old leather rag and get something new."

Ana pointed to the old loincloth Ean'tu was wearing. It seemed to be made of leather, was very old and looked torn. It must have been long at some point, but now it didn't even go down to his knees. The shred of leather just about did the job.

"That's thoughtful of you, what did you bring me?" Ean'tu squatted down in front of the box and was very curious.

"Go ahead and take it out. It's yours anyway..." Ana squatted down in front of it and watched as the Na'vi carefully took out the fabric. First the pants. "I don't know if you like it, it's certainly not the same as what you wore back then." Ana sounded uncertain.

Ean'tu noticed this. "Let me put it on right now." He smiled at her happily. "Wait here."

He stood up and disappeared behind the tree. It was so wide that he could easily hide behind it to change his clothes. When he had his pants on, he came out. "There's a hole missing for my tail." He turned around to show the problem. The waistband of the pants was still below his tail and he held the pants tight.

Ana took a pair of scissors out of the box and approached him. "I'm cutting a hole, please don't move."

The Na'vi was nervous about having a sharp object so close to his tail, so to be on the safe side he held on to it as well.

Ana quickly made a small cut, "Try it now and if it's too small, carefully tear the fabric a little."

Ean'tu nodded and put his tail through the new hole, it fit well and he was finally able to pull his pants up properly.

"Sorry, I didn't know exactly where the hole needed to be, so I didn't include that, now at least we have it just right." she smiled at him. "So... what do you think?"

The Nave squatted a few times with the pants. The pants were very loose and airy and followed his every movement without any problems. "The fabric is very soft and I can move around easily. I like it a lot."

Ana was relieved. She had been worried that it might come across as insulting if she simply brought him human clothing instead of his traditional clothes, but he seemed to take it positively. He went to the box and pulled out the fluffy top. "What's this?"

"Oh you don't have to wear it if you don't like it, but you wear it sort of like this." Ana indicated how to wear it on herself.

"That's unusual for us, but I'll try it on." With Ana's guidance, he skillfully wrapped the top and tied it around his neck.

Ana smiled at him a little more dreamily than planned. "It looks really good on you, you look very pretty in it."

Ean'tu looked down at himself and stroked the soft fabric. "It's definitely something different." Then he looked at Ana. "Thank you for thinking of me." he returned her gentle smile.

They both blushed and Ana sheepishly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "It's the least I can do for you."

Ean'tu came to her and knelt in front of her to look into her eyes. "I know you feel guilty about what the sky people are doing to me... but you're not like them."

Ana held her breath and returned his gaze. He had seen through her. In fact, she felt terribly guilty that Ean'tu was trapped here. It wasn't right, but she felt so powerless.

She pressed her lips together in dismay and smiled wanly. "That's sweet of you to say... but I work for those monsters..."

Ean'tu did not take his eyes off her. His reddish eyes were still on her, with all gentleness in his gaze. "Ana..."

The way he pronounced her name, only he had that certain sound with his accent. It made a pleasant warmth rise in her.

"If it wasn't for you, I might have already given up all hope. Eywa... my home... everything is so far away and out of my reach. But your big heart has given me hope again. I will not give up." He then said and touched her chest again, where her heart was.

Ean'tu was such a good soul. Ana didn't deserve that and yet she was happy about his words. She was glad that he hadn't given up yet, even though the situation was so hopeless.

"Would you like to... do my hair? I'd be delighted." He smiled at her encouragingly.

Ana felt ridiculous for moping around like this, even though he was the prisoner here. So she finally shook off the gray clouds that were clouding her mind. "But of course. Sit down, I've brought a few things especially for this."

Ean'tu sat down expectantly and happily. Ana took all the things out of the box that she would need to fix Ean'tu's hair.

He patiently held still, using his hands to gently instruct her where he wanted the half-open plait and what he would like to have braided. Ana did her best. His hair was a little rougher than hers, if only because it was curly and therefore much harder to tame. But after a few attempts and some back and forth, she had the hairstyle done. Finally, she fetched two more things. One was a tablet, from which she used the inside camera so that Ean'tu could look at herself.

"What do you think? Did it turn out right?" Ana watched as the Na'vi looked at himself in the tablet.

He turned his head from right to left and looked very satisfied. "Yes, it's perfect, thank you very much." he breathed a sigh of relief. Apparently it was a great relief to have his hair out of his face in a proper hairstyle. Before he could stand up, Ana held him by the shoulder.

"Wait, I have something else for you, close your eyes for a moment." She had hidden something behind her back.

Surprised, Ean'tu remained seated and closed his eyes. His tail twitched back and forth excitedly. Ana approached him and pulled out a small pearl necklace for his hair. It had a drop-shaped pearl in the middle, which was meant to lie in the middle of his forehead. It was a hair ornament she had made herself. When the secret contact told her that Na'vi liked to wear homemade jewelry, the idea came to her.

When she had attached the pearl necklace to his hairstyle and the pearl was perfectly centered on his forehead, she allowed him to open his eyes. "You can look now."

He opened his eyes and looked at himself in the tablet. His mouth was slightly open and he looked enthusiastically at the pearls on his forehead. "Pearls..." he said, amazed and delighted at the same time. "How beautiful." He touched them carefully.

"Do you like it? I made it myself." Ana came to his side and looked at his reflection in the tray with him.

" If I like it?" he turned to her, "Of course! I love it!" he beamed happily at Ana's face, which now made her beam with delight too.

"I'm glad, I wasn't so sure it was the right thing. I'm glad I could make you happy." She was just about to turn away to put away the rest of the utensils she had used for Ean'tu's hair when he held her by the wrist and turned her to face him again. Then he took her in his arms. He wrapped both his arms tightly around her and snuggled up to Ana.

Ana was a little taken by surprise at first, but then she also put her arms around him as best she could and pressed herself into the embrace.

"Thank you..." Ean'tu murmured into the hug and Ana's heart began to beat excitedly again. A hot blush rose to her cheeks. She had never been this close to the Na'vi in all this time, but it felt great. He was warm and his skin was soft. Even though he was so much bigger and stronger than her, his embrace was cautious, though not lacking in intimacy. Their bodies snuggled together seamlessly.

She felt the Na'vi breathe a sigh of relief beneath her hug. As if it was exactly what he had been longing for. Ana allowed the hug for as long as he needed it, because apparently he really needed it. She wanted to give him the closeness he had apparently missed so much.

Hesitantly, almost reluctantly, he released Ana from the hug. "..." he wanted to say something but seemed to swallow it.

He still had his hands on her hips. Ana stroked his cheek lovingly. "What is it Ean'tu, tell me."

He lifted his eyes and looked at her, slightly embarrassed but also a little sad. "I was just thinking... it would be nice... if we could do this more often."

As soon as he said it, a blush crept onto his cheeks. Ana was also surprised by what he had said and her heart reacted strongly to it. Why did she react so strongly to Ean'tu? Why couldn't she turn off this feeling in her heart? What they were doing here was no longer professional. It no longer had anything to do with her work, but she couldn't escape it either. She was spellbound by the Na'vi.

She lowered her eyelids sheepishly, "If that's what you want."

Ean'tu reached for her hand and gently stroked her fingers. "Is that what you want? I don't want you to be uncomfortable... because... I'm not human."

Now Ana suddenly looked him in the eye. "That's not it! I don't care if you're human or Na'vi!" She put her hand on his chest and could feel his strong heart beating. "What matters is what's here Ean'tu. I like who you are."

Moved by her statement, he bit his lower lip and suppressed tears, she could see it in his eyes. He was very emotional. How could she have ever believed he was aggressive? He was probably the exact opposite.

"I see you, Ana." he said softly, his voice quivering slightly, as emotional as he was at the moment.

Now Ana felt a heavy emotional sigh, which she suppressed. There was no way she was going to come close to tears now. She had to pull herself together. But her heart was heavy and the longing pulled at her more and more. Almost whispering, she answered him, "I see you too, Ean'tu..."

Tag list: @twisteduniverse5 @yukilaaw @mooniequeen @anemonelovesfiction @talialobi @gimmebones715 (If you want to get added, comment it under the post)

#avatar 2009 #na'vi #avatar the way of water #na'vi oc #avatar pandora #avatar oc #james cameron avatar #writers on tumblr #fan story #na'vi fanfic #fanfiction #na'vi x human #avatar fanfiction #signfromeywa #signfromeywa fanfiction

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kobayashisoul · 4 months ago

Text

》 ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ᴋɪꜱꜱ 《

Here is finally the Animation for Gaara's and Raziela's first kiss, done by the amazing pun_shun ! I swear I love it so much and it looks so Canon! 😭 I had to since Pun js making Animations as Comissions now too. 🩵

I will use the Original Description for this Animation!

➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️

⏳️❄️⏳️

After Gaara and Raziela confessed their Feelings for each other after a long Day of work, there was silence between them for a few Minutes. Gaara still hugged her from behind and comforted her, she finally stopped crying and was able to calm down. She felt so relieved, hearing that the Person she was in love with felt the same for her too. And honestly, now they both didn't know what to say.

She finally turned around, looking to the Bottom, embarassed.

Gaara: "... are you alright?" He looked worried.

Reeze: "Yes, I'm ... We are ... What are we ..."

Gaara came closer to her, they stood now almost Nose to Nose. Gaara didn't know if what he planned was right, but his Heart did beat so fast, and hers too. His Face started to turn Red a bit, and he swallowed.

They stood in front of each other, close, for quite a Moment before Gaara finally leaned in and ... kissed her. His heart did beat so fast, it felt like it would jump out if hus Chest every Moment. But Reeze felt the same. Kissing him was ... it felt like heaven. It was a innocent Touch at first and became a bit more passionate the more seconds passed.

This was the very first Kiss they ever shared. And it was the beginning of something new, something... different. Something really big and wonderful.

⏳️❄️⏳️

➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️

Animation & Art (c) pun_shun

Raziela Kobayashi (c) @kobayashisoul

Sabaku No Gaara (c) Masashi Kishimoto

Naruto & Boruto (c) Masashi Kishimoto and Mikio Ikemoto

This Picture was a Comission for me from pun_shun . I am NOT the Artist of this Artwork. I am a Art Collector. I have the Artists written permission to upload this drawing to my Social Media. ⚠️

The Oc, her Design and Story belong to me. ⚠️

Without my written permission you have no right to recolor/repost/trace/edit/use this in any way. ⚠️

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lillaydee · 2 months ago

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One More Try Part 5

Landlord Joel Miller / Reader

They say a woman is tested when her man has nothing. But a man is tested when he has everything. What happens if you both passed the test, but your partners did not?

WARNINGS:

Unplanned Pregnancy, Soft Joel (The Last of Us), SO MUCH FLUFF, Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Hurt Joel (The Last of Us), Reader was pregnant before meeting Joel, Slow Burn, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Mentions of Miscarriage (Not OC), Landlord Joel, No Outbreak AU

SERIES MASTERLIST

Part 4

---

***WARNING***

Non-graphic (and possibly inaccurate) descriptions of childbirth.

I am not at all knowledgeable on the law in the US and how it works.

I also am not an expert in childbirth, or any of the possible complications that might occur during the birthing process.

So please accept any law or medical related parts in this chapter with a grain of salt and the spirit of story-telling.

Other than that, I hope you enjoy this penultimate chapter.

---

“What are you doing here?”

Laura walked over to where the three of you were standing. You took a good, long look at her. She was immaculately pretty. Face perfectly done, not a hair out of place, her skin scrubbed and well taken care of, her body was definitely a ten, looking like someone who had all the time in the world to work out, and get all primped and polished. Everything sat just so, not a crease on her expensive looking dress, not a blemish on her perfect nails and not a scratch on her shiny designer bag. She looked… expensive.

She was not the disheveled beached whale that you were, that’s for sure.

Behind you, you can hear Tommy and Maria cursing. They stood there like bodyguards, waiting to see what Joel’s ex wanted.

“Can we talk?” she asked, looking at you and the rest of his family, who were all eyeing her with stern faces, “alone?”

You got up, wanting to give them privacy. Joel took your hand in his, not letting you go.

“No, anything you want to say can be said with her here.”

“Joel, please. This is important,” she begged.

“And I’m telling you that it’s important to me that she stays,” he said, his hand now wrapping tighter around yours.

Tommy pulled Anita into the apartment, Maria following behind. Frank and Bill came down with boxes in their hands, seeing this new scene with interest, slowing down before Tommy pulled them both inside too.

Laura’s face snapped shut.

“Is she moving in with you?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Joel, I made a mistake. Please don’t go through with this.”

“What’s your mistake got to do with me?”

“Sam… was not the guy I thought he would be,” she said, tentatively, her eyes still looking you up and down. “He’s been cheating on me.” Her head was bowed, unable to meet his eyes.

“I ask you again, what’s that got to do with me?”

“Joel, he’s kicking me out. He’s marrying his mistress. Laney’s nanny. All this time I thought he loved me, he said we could be a family, I thought I was doing what was best for Laney, Joel. She deserves to be with her father. But he never asked me to marry him. Laughed in my face when I ask him about marriage. Turns out he was fucking the nanny the whole time. What a cliché.”

“One more time, I ask you again, what’s that got to do with me?”

“I’d like to come back, Joel. I miss you.”

Joel was silent. You couldn’t read him at all. What was going on through his head right now? He was quiet for what felt like hours. His hand never leaving yours, rigid, firm. You brushed your thumb over his knuckles and took your other hand to rub his arm. Almost immediately, his body language softened.

“You miss me,” he said, his head shaking, almost laughing. “I take it you want me to raise Laney too?”

You stilled. Where was he going with this?

“No Joel. Sam’s keeping her. She… she has never really taken to me. He’s suing me for full custody.”

“Let me guess,” Joel laughed softly. “You let the nanny raise her?”

“Well, that’s what we pay her for, and I’m busy…”

“Oh, so you finally got a job?”

“Well… no… but I have a very busy life, Joel. It’s a full-time job to make the effort to look like this,” she said, laughing slightly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Ahh…” Joel nodded, “I see. So… let me get this straight. The man you left me for grew up, and is marrying the nanny, who I assume loves and takes good care of his daughter, unlike you, and now you want to come back to me? Me? The man you left because I couldn’t provide for you? Abused you? Controlled you? Never loved you?”

“Joel, I was young, stupid. I didn’t see you for who you really were. I realize now, you loved me…”

“No, Laura, I didn’t love you. I thought I did. But that was before I knew what love really is. You’re too late, Laura. My answer is no. Please leave.”

Joel turned around to go in, and you followed. Laura surged forward towards you.

“This is all your doing, isn’t it, you shameless bitch! You think I haven’t heard about you? You think I don’t know that’s not his baby?”

Joel let go of your hand and put himself between you and Laura, taking such aggressive steps forward she shrunk back.

“Don’t you talk to her like that. Don’t you talk to her at all.”

“Joel, come on baby, you cannot tell me you would rather be with her than with me? I mean, look at her…” she spat, gesturing at your pregnant body, your less than flattering clothes, your unmanicured nails and obviously make up and maintenance free hair and face (I mean… it’s the weekend, and you’re at home watching people move your stuff, why would you need to do your hair and wear make up? Duh!)

“Laura,” Joel was speaking through calculated breaths. “Listen carefully. Even if I am not with her, I wouldn’t touch you again with a ten-foot pole. I am never, EVER going to take you back. She and I are moving in together, and I have never been happier in my life, and I am never going to let anyone take that away from me, least of all you.”

“Oh come on, Joel. She’s using you.”

“Like you were? No. Unlike you, she’s working hard to provide for that baby. Unlike you, she rejected my attempts to help, wanting to work on her problems herself. And most importantly, Laura, I WANT to raise her baby, I will love and protect that baby like she was my own, because unlike with you, I am desperately in love with her mother.”

Laura got desperate. She was crying now, clutching at his arm, trying to get him to see reason.

“Joel, please, I don’t have anywhere else to go. I don’t want to go back to the farm, Joel. Please. We were so good together, remember? Please give me another chance.”

Joel pulled his hand away.

“I may not be rich, or even highly educated, Laura, but even I can see that you were toxic for me. Go back home to your parents, Laura, see if they will take you back. Maybe living on that farm will help you face reality. Learn from this. Leave me and my family alone. If I see you around my family again, I will get the law involved.”

With that, Joel pulled the main door shut, locking it, leaving Laura sobbing outside in the summer heat. He escorted you inside, pushing the slightly ajar door to your new apartment, only to be greeted by five nosy faces who were pressed close to it to listen to the drama.

Joel made you sit on the couch, going into the kitchen to get you more lemonade. The newly installed AC was doing wonders for you. Tommy, Maria and Anita were just staring at Joel.

“Well, so you CAN stand up for yourself…” Tommy started, “That was impressive, brother. Should’ve done that a long time ago”. Maria nodded, remembering how miserable Joel was all those years ago, when Laura walked all over him.

Joel sat next to you, handing you your lemonade, and you couldn’t help but be proud of him. It was very clear how long he had wanted to say all those things, and how difficult it was for him to say all that in front of you. But he did it. He stood up for himself, and for you and Babygirl Bean.

“Sorry you had to hear that, Mama. I know you didn’t raise me to talk to a lady like that,” he looked sheepish.

Anita waved her hand, “Oh honey, that was no lady. I forgive you baby,” she said, looking immensely proud of her son. She clapped her hands together, “Now, lunch break?”

---

By evening, all your boxes, suitcases and furniture were in your new apartment. Everyone left after dinner, leaving you and Joel alone on the couch, reveling in the AC. You were cuddled up to him, your legs over his lap, his arms tight around your body, his lips on yours, never wanting to stop kissing you.

“So,” you began, “You are in love with me, huh?”

“Is that so surprising? Baby, I’ve been in love with you since you moved in upstairs.”

“I love you too,” you said, pulling his head down for another kiss. “I also heard you want to raise Babygirl like she was your own…”

“Of course I do. I’m in love with her Mommy,” he murmured against your lips.

“You sure you won’t regret this?”

“Never been surer of anything in my life.”

“Joel…”

“Hmm?”

“Why me?”

He paused, thought for a moment, and asked you right back.

“Why me?”

---

When your pregnancy was in its 8th month, you got antsy. You basically became a writing machine, wanting to get in as much work as you can before Babygirl Bean got there. Joel still went to work, but made sure his Mama was home with you, just in case. Laura showing up scared him, worried that she might come back to hurt you. But Tommy assured him that he had it on good authority that Laura had gone back to her parent’s farm, having nowhere else to go and no one else to take her in, Sam made sure of that. A small part of Joel felt bad for her, but he knew that if he gave in and helped her, she would never leave, and he would do anything to ensure his life with you was not disrupted.

You kept your nose to your writing and Frank’s research. You had planned on a two-month leave, but Joel managed to talk you into taking six. You agreed, providing you can still do your writing during that time. He agreed. You two shook on it and everything, sealed with so many kisses. Your life with Joel went swimmingly. He hand-built all Babygirl Bean’s furniture, even stripping and repainting them three times when you changed your mind on the colors. That didn’t include repainting the nursery, the pink from all the stuff you’d been given clashing with the colors you had wanted, and he repainted twice, before you decided you just wanted white walls after all.

He was a favourite at your birthing class. The other moms kept eyeing him, even if their husbands were right there. Some single moms kept trying to get his help with things, asking him to practice their breathing with them, getting him to help carry things for them, touching his arms, complimenting his good looks. The poor man was all flustered, keeping his eye line on his feet, his hands always on you. It got so bad he just took to sticking to your side like a leech. It’s not that you were not jealous, of course you were. But there was a certain primal side to you that was extremely proud. All these hot moms and he picked you, who at this point felt as if you were much wider than you were tall. Not that he would ever tell you that. He worshiped you; he was insatiable for you. He would take you every morning, noon and night if he could. And my God did you let him. Even when you got too big, you experimented on different positions, and both of you were very willing participants.

Joel had certainly been your rock throughout your pregnancy. Whenever you needed to go to the library, he made sure he could go with you, sitting next to you, or at least in your line of sight as you worked, making sure you were alright. When you couldn’t sleep at night because you couldn’t get comfortable and became irritated as a result of it, he made sure you got whatever you needed to get some rest. You want food? He’ll cook. Tea? He’ll make it for you. A massage? Just tell him which parts needed massaging. Space? He’ll sleep on the floor – not wanting to be away from you. You always ended up begging him to come back to bed anyways, so that was that. When Babygirl Bean was particularly restless and active, he was the only one who could calm her down. Talking to her, telling her not to give you such a hard time, reading to her, singing to her, his voice always did the trick. Did the trick for you, too. You always end up falling asleep when he lulled Babygirl to sleep.

He took you to the farmer’s market every week now, taking you to brunch, letting you eat all the fruits from his plate every single time. You were so happy you were terrified something was going to happen to take it all away from you. You told Joel this one night, and he shushed you, holding you close, telling you all will be fine, he will make sure nothing bad ever happens to you. He didn’t tell you how terrified he was that that might happen, too. He laid awake at night thinking about it, just staring at your sleeping face, caressing your belly, certain that he would do anything to protect the two of you. His love for you and this unborn child was overwhelming, what if something went wrong? What if there were complications during the labour? And when Laura reappeared, he was terrified that he would cave in to her, his soft-heartedness sometimes being a barrier to his own happiness, but thankfully, he didn’t. What if Max came back? Would you be the same? Would you go back to him? The actual father of your daughter? People change. People change their minds. What if Max changed? What if you changed your mind?

At the next doctor’s appointment, he got his answer. As the two of you were waiting for Tess, Max showed up, his face the definition of gloom. Joel stood up, worried that he might do something unthinkable to you. Instead, Max offered his hand out for Joel to shake. He took it.

“Can I talk to you both?”

Joel looked at you, letting you decide. You held his arms close, not wanting to let go. You nodded. Joel sat back down, and Max sat a chair away from him, body turned to the two of you.

“I lost everything, Jules.”

“What do you mean?”

“My company. My business. Esther, the baby.”

“Something happened to Esther and the baby?” as much as you hated the woman, the thought of something bad happening to her and the baby was too much to bear.

“Well, I lost the company, my money, so I lost Esther and the baby. She ran out on me. Told me that she wasn’t even sure the baby was mine. That she wasn’t made to live in destitution. She found a better option.”

He held his head so low, you actually felt bad for the man. He took another deep breath.

“Look, I followed you here, I swear I don’t want to cause drama. But I didn’t know how else to contact you. Frank and Maria refused to give me your number. I could’ve just contacted you through Bill, but I need to tell you this myself.”

He took a deep breath.

“I know you have moved on, and I know you are happy. I am happy for you. Both of you. You two seem good together. I know I don’t deserve forgiveness, Jules, shit, the way I threw you out, after everything you had done for me. Maybe this is my karma.”

You and Joel just listened; your hands clasped together. You can feel Joel holding your hand tighter, afraid to hear what might come next.

“But I would like to beg your forgiveness. I am leaving the country. There are better job opportunities for me in Asia… and my life will be unpredictable for a while. So, I wanted to give you this. Bill already looked at it, he okayed it, had it notarized, kept a copy for himself,” he fished out an envelope from his pocket, handing it to Joel. “It’s a document that relinquishes all my parental rights to the baby to you, Jules. Believe me, I am not doing this to run away from my responsibility. You might think that I am, not that I can blame you, considering what I did when I found out… but I just… I don’t know if I will come back, or if I will ever be able to be a good parent to the baby. So…” he trailed off, looking genuinely upset at what he just did.

He stood up, holding his hand out to Joel again. When Joel took it, he pulled Joel into a hug, asking him for forgiveness, begging him to please take good care of you and the baby. Telling him he’s a good man, and he’ll be a great father. He turned to you, asking softly if he could have a hug goodbye. He hugged you tight, whispering he’s sorry again and again, telling you that you will be the greatest mother, because you had a great one yourself, and that he hoped all will go well for your doctorate, that he’s proud of you and all that you had done, that you were the strongest person he knew, and hoped that someday you can think of him fondly again.

And with that, Max wiped the tears off his face, turned around and walked away, out of your life.

---

It was so hot that Friday night. You kept waking up, unable to get comfortable. Your back was killing you, your belly uncomfortably tight. You were three days past your due date. You had been having contractions on and off for a couple of days, but they hadn’t been too bad. You had woken up a very tired Joel three times in the past two weeks, convinced you were in labour, only to be told it was Braxton-Hicks contractions. The poor man was exhausted, since you had changed your mind again about the colour of the nursery wall and the furniture, not to mention he was out all day fixing this and that in the units for rent, and there was a long list of orders at his workshop. You went into the living room, switched the tv on, muted it so you wouldn’t wake Joel, and made yourself a cup of tea to help you sleep.

As you were watching some royalty discuss some arranged marriages on Netflix, a sudden, sharp pain caught your lower back, making you jump slightly. It went away after a few seconds, though. So, you got comfy and continued watching tv. About thirty minutes later, it came back, stronger this time, radiating from your back all the way around to your belly button, it lasted a while, but disappeared again. The third time it happened, you were bent double, you had to remember how to breathe. All you learnt in the birthing class flew out the window. But you really didn’t want to wake him. And by your calculations, even if this was labour, this was way too early to even go to the hospital. So, you waited it out.

You had decided to let Joel sleep in. If you were indeed in labour, you wanted him to get as much rest as he could get. Anita came over bright and early, having told you she would do so starting the week before your due date, wanting to be there in case you and Joel needed a hand. When she unlocked the door, you were on your fours, leaning against the couch, breathing deep, fending off another contraction. You told her not to wake Joel. Your contractions, if that was what they were, were still too far apart. Let him sleep. Anita helped massage your back, and things remained uneventful and calm for a couple more hours, aside from a few more contractions.

That calm lasted until Joel woke up.

When he realized you were having contractions that were bad enough that you couldn’t take them standing, he completely panicked. He ran around the apartment, grabbing useless things, stuffing them into a bag, completely forgetting that the bag had been packed and ready to go weeks prior, sitting ready by the door. Anita just watched in amusement, even recording him on her phone, gleeful that her oldest son was finally experiencing fatherhood, the way he had always wanted. You managed to stand after a particularly bad contraction, during which Joel was the one who clearly needed the breathing exercises more than you, and told him, as gently as you could, that he needed to calm down.

And then your water broke.

That definitely did not help him calm down. He had to be instructed to help you clean up and change, before needing a reminder for himself that he needed to change too. The journey to the hospital was chaotic, Joel cursing at cats and dogs crossing the streets. Damn cats. My girlfriend’s in labour! He didn’t calm down much when you actually got to the hospital, calling for attendants and nurses for a wheelchair, getting the bag from the truck and completely forgetting about you in the passenger seat, coming back for you only when the nurse at the registration counter asked where you were. You and Anita were howling with laughter, even a contraction didn’t fully stop you from laughing. Luckily, seeing you both laughing so much did calm him down, and he lifted you up from the truck, placed you gently on the wheelchair, and went back to become the reliable boyfriend you had known and loved.

Your labour was long. Tommy, Maria, Frank and Bill came by, went home, and came back again the next day, and still Babygirl Bean was nowhere near ready to come out. Anita finally told everyone to go home, and she would call when she arrived. After 48 hours, Tess gave you the dreaded news. The baby was starting to be in danger, but you were simply not dilated enough, despite the medications you were given. So, they were going to prep you for a C-Section.

You held on to Joel, scared out of your mind. Tess told him he could be in the room with you, if he’d like, and he quickly agreed. He was not going to leave your side for a second. He was shitting himself with fear, but he was determined to be strong for you and Babygirl Bean. They took him away from you to change into scrubs, and you couldn’t stop yourself from crying. You needed his presence, his warmth to keep you calm. The nurses and Anita tried to soothe you as you were wheeled into the operating theatre, Anita holding your hand the whole way, telling you all will be well, that she will wait for you out here. You will see Joel soon, don’t worry.

When Joel returned to your side, you calmed down. His hand never left you, his eyes fixed on yours, his other hand stroking your head gently. His voice calming you down, telling you that you were the strongest person he knew, that you will get through this. That he loved you. He was right there. He wasn’t going anywhere.

Tess guided you and Joel to what was happening behind the barrier as they were happening. Her voice calm and steady, warning you of what you would be feeling, what she was doing, what had happened, and finally, she said the magic words.

“Babygirl is out.”

There was silence for a couple of seconds, and the room was rewarded with the screaming cries from a pair of very healthy lungs.

When she was brought to you, you felt as if you had known her all your life, and yet, this was your first meeting. You knew right there and then, you would do anything for her, die for her. She was everything your life had led to. It was then that you realized, as much as you loved Joel, you did not regret what you went through with Max, because it had led you to this perfect little girl in your arms. You felt this overwhelming feeling of love for this little girl that you had never felt before. A love that will keep on filling your heart, never spilling.

It seemed that she knew you too; her cries began to recede when she was placed on your chest, but when Joel spoke in his low baritone, saying hi to her for the first time, she stopped crying. Her tiny eyes opened, searching for that familiar voice that had always calmed her. Both of you couldn’t keep your eyes off her. She was perfect. Your sight got blurry from tears that wouldn’t stop falling. Joel couldn’t stop kissing the top of your head, whispering to you that she’s here, she’s perfect, she looks exactly like you, I’m so proud of you baby, you did it. His voice cracking from his own tears, his thumb stroking your baby’s face, telling her she’s perfect over and over.

“Would you like to cut the cord, Dad?” Tess asked. Joel looked at you, looking for permission, excitement on his face.

You nodded.

Once the cord was cut, you handed her to Joel. He held the tiny newborn in his arms, his size making her look tinier than she really was and kissed her over and over on her gooey forehead.

You swore your heart just about exploded at the sight.

So this was what happiness felt like.

You closed your eyes, contentment and happiness filling your soul.

And then the room was filled with the still sound of the flatline alarm from your heart monitor.

---

The calm, emotional mood in the room turned to chaos. You had flatlined. A nurse came and took Babygirl Bean away from Joel. He was at your side within seconds, panic in his eyes. You were feeling lightheaded, your worst fear had come true; you were not going to see your daughter grow up. You held on to Joel’s hand, he was asking over and over, what is happening? You kept telling him you loved him, please love her like she was his own, please love her enough for the both of you. Please don’t let anything happen to her. He kissed your hand over and over, no baby, don’t talk like that. You are going to be fine. You are not going anywhere. Please baby don’t leave me.

“EVERYONE SHUT UP!!!” Tess’s voice boomed.

The room fell silent, save for the shrill monotone from the monitor, telling everyone your heart had stopped beating.

Eh? But you were still leaving your last will and testament to a crying Joel.

“I am not seeing any problems in here and she still has a steady BP. Why is the monitor flatlining?”

A nurse came to your side, searching for something, bent down and picked up a lose wire from the floor.

You had knocked your heart monitor line off.

Oh.

---

God, your daughter was so cute.

She had to be the cutest baby in the whole wide world, right?

Anita bogarted the baby, tears in her eyes, you are Nana’s favourite girl, she said. I love you, I love you, I love you so, so much.

Maria was practically swooning, trying to steal her from Anita’s firm grasp, it’s Auntie Maria’s turn now Babygirl… Nana needs to let go of her… Auntie Maria needs her dose of Babygirl!!!

Tommy was speechless throughout his visit. When Joel handed your baby to him, he sat stock still, so afraid he might break her. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, whispering to her, you’re so cute. You’re too cute for your own good. You are going to be so spoiled Babygirl, no one would ever be good enough for you. Uncle Tommy’s got you Babygirl. You just tell me who hurt you and I will take care of it.

Frank was surprisingly calm, holding her like he had held babies in his arms all his life. You make sure your mommy and daddy read to you, okay? Good books. I’ll teach you to draw Babygirl, you have beautiful hands. You will be so artsy; I will make sure of it. You make sure you come see me when your Mommy comes to see me okay? Or else, I will come kidnap you at home!!! Uncle Bill would just have to deal with it, right Uncle Bill?

Bill’s reaction was the most surprising of all. The usually quiet, grumpy, stoic man burst into tears as soon as Frank gently placed your baby in his arms. He was so overwhelmed he couldn’t even speak. Just stared at her for so long through his sobs until Joel decided he missed having his Babygirl Bean in his arms again and took her from him.

He got in bed with you and placed her gently in your arms.

The room fell silent. Tommy and Maria took pictures of what they all saw – a family.

---

That night, after the everyone had left and your baby had been taken to the nursery, the two of you laid in your bed, much to the chagrin of Nurse Grumpy Pants. But she told you that you needed rest, and rest for you required your personal human heater, Joel Miller, wrapped around you.

“Honey, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Would you be okay if I put you on the birth certificate?”

“As the father?”

“As HER father.”

He kissed you.

“I take it that’s a yes?”

“Yes? It’s a hell yeah!”

“So, you’ll help me register the birth certificate tomorrow?”

“Of course. Is it still your mother’s name? With your last name, right?”

“I’m thinking I’d like the last name hyphenated now, if you don’t mind.”

He kissed you again. Long and sweet, his thumb brushing your cheek for a while, before he took his hand away, and placed it in your hand, along with something hard, covered in soft velvet.

There was a ring box in your hand.

He kept his face next to yours, his calming voice not even above a whisper in the quiet room.

“Will you marry me? Do me the honour of making me your husband? I cannot see my life without you and Babygirl Bean anymore. I want to be your husband, be her dad. I want to marry you, I want to adopt her, make you both mine, officially. Because baby, I am yours and Babygirl Bean’s. My heart belongs to the both of you. Make me the happiest man on earth? Please? Marry me?”

You took his face in your hands, kissed him deep, your tears mingling with each other’s. The world was silent. There was just the two of you in this moment. It may not have been the most romantic proposal that he had originally planned, but the moment felt right. When you both broke the kiss, he searched your wet teary face with anticipation.

“Yes.”

---

Ellie Williams-Miller was brought home two days later, and it was clear from the start that she was daddy’s little girl. She would spend hours in Joel’s arms, needing to hear his voice to fall asleep, having gotten used to it in utero. He, in turn, was completely in love with his new daughter. You have a picture of him laid out on his tummy next to her on your bed, his face turned towards her, and hers, his, just watching her sleep, love in his eyes. He had taken to fatherhood like fish to water. It was as if this was the reason for his existence.

The two of you got married a little less than two months later, a small ceremony in his mama’s backyard, just family and close friends. Ellie was, of course, the ring bearer, with the help of a very willing Uncle Bill. You had gone to the courthouse the day after to register your marriage, and for Joel to sign papers to adopt Ellie, now officially his Babygirl, not that there was ever a doubt that she was.

You had planned a short honeymoon for the three of you. You had your final post-partum appointment with Tess the morning you were due to leave and came home to Anita and Maria waiting for you in the living room. They were taking Ellie with them for the duration. What? No! Joel would never agree to this. But Joel came out of the room, a bag in his hand, and handed it over to Maria. He had planned this. You were conflicted. You had left Ellie with Anita and Maria before, but never overnight. Joel pulled you aside, telling you it’s alright, it’s only a few days, and they will take good care of her. It’s our honeymoon, baby. Let’s enjoy ourselves, alone. Let me spoil my wife, hmm?

When you thought of what he said, and the conversation you just had with Tess, you reluctantly agreed. So, you said a teary goodbye to a clueless Ellie, who was so happy to see her Nana and Auntie Maria she didn’t even notice she was being taken away. You spent the next hour getting ready to leave, sobbing the whole time. You were crying so hard even Joel had second thoughts, almost going over to his Mama’s to get Ellie back. Joel picked up your suitcases to put in his truck, ready to start your journey, but you stopped him. You forgot to pack something. Go wait in the truck. You will be right out.

The truth was you were heartbroken to separate from Ellie. But he was right. It’s your honeymoon. It should be about just the two of you.

What you didn’t tell him was, you were terrified. You and Joel had never been alone together since you gave birth. You had been pregnant throughout your relationship, but now that you were no longer with child, you were worried about what he might think of your body, sans baby. You had the privilege and security of being pregnant for any… jiggly bits your body might have before. And the two of you hadn’t had sex since before Ellie was born. In fact, Joel had never seen you fully naked since you gave birth. You were so insecure with how your body looked you opted to change with the doors closed.

Also, your relationship being more on the unconventional side, you had never really flirted, or even seduced him. You hadn’t done that in a long time, not since you were much younger, much more confident and had the perfect figure with Max. You and Joel had sort of fell in love without much flirting, just going along with the rhythm, and you being pregnant had not helped with your self-confidence, often feeling too silly, awkward and huge to flirt with him. And the way your body betrayed you during pregnancy was not exactly romance and seduction adjacent – you had been gassy and swollen throughout, poor Joel having to endure all your farting and burping and constant peeing and constipation throughout your pregnancy, all of which happened in the early stages of your budding relationship. So, no. Romance was not exactly an area you were an expert in.

But now, you two were headed for your honeymoon, alone. And Tess had given you the all clear this morning. As nervous as you were, you wanted your husband. So badly. So, while Joel was putting his suitcase in the truck, you went to your closet, fished out a small paper bag you had hidden at the back of it, and quickly shoved it in your suitcase. You decided you will just have to endure it all, do your best at seducing your ridiculously good-looking and sexy husband, and hope for the best.

The journey only took a couple of hours. Joel had rented out a small cabin by a beautiful lake in a small-town resort just outside the city. Throughout the drive, he held you hand, making small talks with you. He asked you how the appointment with Tess went that morning. Fine, you said. Everything going as it should. You can tell he wanted to ask you more, but you changed the subject, wanting to surprise him.

The cabin was beautiful. You had a gorgeous view of the lake and surrounding mountains from the balcony, a fireplace, and a huge bathtub. After a quick phone call to check in on Ellie (you didn’t want a video call, in case you change your mind), Joel asked you to get ready for dinner. He had made reservations at the restaurant, eager to take his wife on a first proper romantic night out. You two had never been on one, you always busy with your schoolwork. So, your dates so far had consisted of going to the farmer’s market and perhaps a dinner or two at your favourite restaurant.

You got ready in the bathroom, as usual, wearing your surprise for him under the dark red dress that you had brought. Even the dress was making your nervous. You had only been wearing the most comfortable maternity wear every time you two had gone out, not figure-hugging dresses. So, when you opened the door to the bathroom, you hoped to God Joel would like what he saw.

You stood in the doorway, one arm leaning on the door, the other on your waist, legs slightly crossed to show off your dress.

The two of you stared each other up and down. He was dressed in a black dress pants, a dark red dress shirt tucked into it, the sleeves rolled up his arms. He looked… delectable. He in turn, was staring at you with his mouth slightly open, unable to say anything, swallowing visibly, before clearing his throat, asking if you’re ready to go. A small part of you deflated. Did he not like what he saw? But as you were stepping off the deck, he took your hand in his, kissed it, and said, “you look beautiful, baby,” a small smile on his face.

Seduction attempt one – not quite so successful, but not too bad.

You’ll take it.

Dinner was delicious, and so romantic. The restaurant was set up for romantic dinners. Dim lighting, candles everywhere, soft music playing. You two were sat opposite one another, your legs entwined underneath the table, his hand holding yours. You made small talks, but you wanted to warm him up for later, so you took your shoes off, and brush your foot up his legs. He flinched slightly, before removing his leg out of the way. But before you could feel rejected, he traced his finger on your arm, looking at you with his soft eyes, and told you he loved you. “Happy Honeymoon, Baby,” he whispered, before kissing your hand again.

Seduction attempt two – kinda worse than attempt one, but still not too bad.

You’ll take it.

He led you to the dance floor and led you in a slow dance, softly swaying you side to side, kissing your hairline, telling you that he felt like the luckiest man in the world. But when you pressed your body up to his, wanting to kiss him properly, he jumped away from you, and said he needed the restroom real quick. When he returned, he gave you a quick peck on the lips, another on your cheek and kissed you on the hand, saying you should probably head back.

Seduction attempt three – that felt like a fail, but you did get a kiss out of it. So, maybe, not too bad?

You were beginning to feel defeated, but you’ll take it.

You took the long path back to the cabin, walking hand in hand in the dimly lit path along the lake, just savouring the night. It was quiet, but it sure was not in your head. You were on your honeymoon, and your husband was acting all jittery whenever you attempted to get close to him. Did he not want you anymore? Oh God, it’s the dress isn’t it? You’re fat. He didn’t like seeing your fat ass in the tight dress. That’s it, isn’t it? How dare he? How dare he not want you? You can barely breathe in this stupid outfit, and he didn’t want you? Hmph. You’ll show him. You’ll show him what he’s missing.

When you got back in the cabin, you waited until he had shut the door, before jumping him.

You pressed him up against the door, got on your tippy toes and kissed the living daylight out of him. You can feel his breathing change, his crotch hardening, but he was still… not really reciprocating. You can feel him holding back, his hand was back to their original limit - at your waist only. You could feel him getting hard, but his body was rigid, he wasn’t returning your kiss the way a man who had not had sex with his wife in two months should be.

Seduction attempt four – most definitely a fail.

You can’t take it anymore.

You stopped kissing him, took your shoes off and walked off into the bedroom defeatedly. You sat on the bed, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. He came in, stopped just inside the doorway, a worried look on his face. What’s wrong baby?

“You don’t find me sexy anymore, do you? I'm fat, right? You don't like my body anymore?"

He was kneeling in front of you in seconds. His hands on your face.

“What are you talking about? All I want is you. Baby, you're beautiful. All of you.”

“Then why do you not want to touch me?”

“Baby, I was worried I wouldn’t be able to stop myself. You just gave birth two months ago, you had major surgery, I thought we had to wait?”

“Yeah, but Tess gave me the all-clear this morning.”

His eyes turned dark. “She did?”

“Yeah, and I wanted to surp…umph…”

His lips were on you, climbing up the bed with you, his hips between your legs, his arms on your ass, lifting you higher up the bed. He hovered over you.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, she said I’m healed, I even asked her to put me on birth control.”

“So, I don’t need a condom?” he sounded hopeful.

“Nope.”

He lowered himself on you, his erection evident between your legs. You couldn’t help it, you canted your hips up to his, chasing the delicious friction it was giving you. He groaned, moving his hips with yours, wanting to make you feel good.

“Driving me crazy,” he said as he peppered kisses all over your face, jaw, neckline. “Want you so badly, you look delicious baby. So fucking hot and sexy in your little dress. Teasing me, rubbing yourself all over me. Got so hard I had to get myself off in the restroom.”

You pushed him off you.

“What? Was that what you were doing after the dance?”

He smiled sheepishly, “I was so desperate for you it only took a few strokes. Couldn’t walk around paying the bill with a raging hard on could I?”

Damn Miller, way to make your wife feel sexy. You got off the bed. He followed, but you pushed him back to sit at the edge.

“Well, I have a surprise for you, Mr Miller.”

You leaned down on him, and kissed him breathless, before turning around and asking him to unzip you. You smiled when you noticed his hand was shaking, his heavy breaths filling the quiet room with anticipation. You took a few steps forward, and shimmied out of your tight dress, bending down as you did so, your thong clad ass fully in view for him to see.

It’s gone quiet. You can’t hear him breathe anymore.

You turned around slowly, and there was your husband, holding his breath, his jaw slack, his eyes roving all over your body, now only covered in a pair of see-through lingerie made of delicate white lace, unable to decide where to look first or next, his hands white knuckled on the sheets next to him, his pants dangerously tented.

“Baby? Do you like it?”

He gasped, finally broken out of his daze, but still unable to speak or move.

When you got in between his legs, his hands seemed to work again, grabbing your ass, running them all over your body, pulling you down on him, kissing you breathless. He shuffled up the bed, and you followed, getting on top of him, lips still together. You grinded your hips over his clothed erection, earning a long, deep moan from him, but you were not planning on stopping. Shit he felt good, even clothed. His breath was ragged, so were yours. His hands stayed on your hips, helping you grind yourself on him, as you climbed higher and higher, coming with a wail of his name. He didn’t even give you the time to come down, flipping you over, before very quicky standing up, taking his clothes off, almost toppling over trying to get his socks off.

He climbed up to you, got between your legs, taking in your smell over the skimpy white lace covering your mound, rubbing his nose all over your sensitive nub. So pretty, he whispered. You shivered in anticipation. He traced the thong with his fingers, before ripping it right off you. He looked at you from between your legs, something he hadn’t been able to do the last few months you had sex and ravaged you. His eyes were closed, savouring the experience, thoroughly destroying you layer by layer, making you see stars, galaxies, and beyond. Your legs were shaking by the time he was done, your entire body so lax and pliant, you were convinced you were made from jelly. Your aftershocks lasted forever, and he slowly made his way to your lace covered peaks, while his hands tried to soothe you from your high.

He teased your nipples through the lace until they were stiff, telling you these were pretty, maybe he’ll spare them, so you’ll wear them again. But he sucked on one of your nipples, and tasted your sweet, sweet milk… and that was it… bye-bye expensive lace bras. He tore them off you, complaining that they were in the way. He traced his tongue on your leaking nipples. One more look at you, may I? You nodded.

And he wrapped his lips around one peak, gently sucking on it. When a burst of milk erupted into his mouth, he moaned, his face full of pleasure, his breath heavy, and he brought his hand to the other breast, pinching its peak between his fingers. You were writhing. The way he was drinking from you had you weak, joy and need clearly evident all over his face. He switched when the flow slowed, and groaned so loudly when the other source gave him more of that sweet nectar, his hips rutting onto yours, so you reached down, and guided him into your entrance.

You both fell silent when he pushed in, mouths hanging open, eyes closed. Joel stayed still in you when he had pushed all the way through. Fuck baby, I missed this. I missed being inside you. You feel so good baby, fuck… I love you. I love you so much. You were babbling, feeling so full, so good, you couldn’t form a coherent string of sentences. You wrapped your legs around his waist, not wanting him to leave, both of you just breathing together, kissing each other whispering sweet nothings to each other.

When he finally moved, it was with so much tenderness. You felt his absolute love and devotion whenever he made love to you. Whispers of love, of ecstasy, the need for each other filled your ears as you two moved together, faster and faster, until there was nothing left but bliss.

Needless to say, the two of you didn’t partake in any of the romantic activities Joel had planned for the trip, thinking that sex was not part of the option. You spent your days making love, ordering room service (but it’s expensive Joel!), taking advantage of that huge bathtub and being naked the entire time.

It was almost as if you were on your honeymoon, and your husband loved your post-partum body after all, and you were worried for nothing.

---

Maria was busy running after the kids, the twins had escaped from their father and was busy chasing after a duck. Your youngest joined them, gleefully waddling after her cousins to join in on the duck chasing fun. Ellie was busy drawing flowers and bugs with her Uncles Bill and Frank, and their newly adopted girl. You were giving Anita a much-needed foot massage, having been on her feet all day keeping up with her overly active grandchildren. Joel and Tommy were manning the grill, having ridiculous brotherly arguments about how best to flip a burger.

When the burgers were ready, the kids wrangled up, the adults taken a breath, the small family sat at their picnic tables, sharing food, drinks, stories and laughter as family would. All of you had made these getaways a yearly event, taking time out of your busy work life to just enjoy each other’s company.

The family had grown since it started. Maria and Tommy got married, and their twin boys Jack and Daniel, now three years old, arrived a year later. Sarah Williams-Miller joined your small family not a few months after that. Ellie, now six, was besotted with her baby sister. Frank and Bill, now a permanent part of your family, adopted their little girl, five-year-old Dina a few months ago, she and Ellie already causing havoc wherever they go. Anita lived with you and Joel now, the two of you bought a new house with a mother-in-law suite not far from campus where you are now proudly teaching.

Ellie and Sarah were both Daddy’s little girls. Joel had always said he was born to be a girl dad, and he had fulfilled that role proudly. Ellie was always more interested in paints and music than make up, but since Sarah arrived, he was often going to work with his nails painted and his hair clad in flowery clips just in case his girls video called. He had cleaned his nails and taken the clips off for work one time, when Anita video called him for the girls. When Sarah realized her Daddy had taken her special paintings and clips off, she cried with such heartbreak that Ellie didn’t speak to him for hours when he got home for making Sarah cry. It broke his heart. So, the man endured the teasing he received at work and resorted to walking around the house with his hair tied in various neon coloured rubber bands and his face painted with fake make-up, just to appease his youngest girl, and her more tomboy-ish big sister by extension.

When the kids had gone to bed, the adults went about savouring the quiet and peace, Frank and Bill chose to read, Anita was knitting, Tommy and Maria went for a walk by the lake.

You stood at the edge of the water, looking at the moonlit view, thinking about how much your life had changed in seven short years. When you came home that fateful day, finding your two suitcases packed, you had thought that your life had ended. Little did you know that your life had just begun. That heartbreaking day had led you to this day. How happy you were now, how content. A pair of warm hands made their way around your waist, followed by the solid warmth that was your husband’s body pressed against your back, and a kiss behind your ear, which then trailed down to your neck, the hands beginning to travel to naughtier bits.

“What do you think you’re doing, Mr Miller?”

“Just showing my wife how much I love her, Dr Miller.”

You turned around and hugged him tight.

“Thank you.”

“What for?”

“For loving me.”

“Not a hardship baby. Thank you for giving me a chance.”

“I love you, so much.”

As he kissed you silly, you closed your eyes, quietly grateful that you decided to be brave, and give love one more try.

The End

#joel miller x reader #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you

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ashleyfilm · 5 months ago

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Seeing Clearly - Chapter 6. The Nightmare

Please leave comments, I'd love to know your thoughts. And if you feel inclined to reblog, that would be so nice.

Chapter Warnings: cursing, SMUT, angst *im sorry* - Minors - DNI

Characters: Jackson!Joel Miller x F!Reader Plus Size. F!OC was recommended to me since there's a lot of description of her but I'm writing her as You (Reader) so hopefully you can still imagine yourself. Black hair, glasses, tattoos, big body, wears dark clothes, won't stop talking. Joel is tv show Jackson Joel.

Story Summary: Joel just saved your life, begrudgingly. He doesn't know exactly why but he brings you back to Jackson and you ingratiate yourself into his very small circle and his life. This takes place after season 1 of TLOU and season 2 doesn't exist in my brain because no.

Chapter Summary: The Nightmares that have plagued you come back and Joel helps you through it, but getting closer isn't easy. 1.2K

Thank you to @saradika-graphics for the book line divider. :)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6. The Nightmare

By some miracle, you haven’t had any of your nightmares since you arrived in Jackson two weeks ago. That is until early this morning when, in your sleep, you toss and turn and yell until you’re woken up by Joel’s large hands on your shoulders and his warm breath in your face. “Hey, hey, shhh, you’re okay. It was a nightmare, you’re okay. Look at me.” You realize your cheeks are wet, how long have you been crying? “Joel?” Your voice is scratchy, how long have you been yelling? “Darlin’, you didn’t wake up for me. It took almost ten minutes of me shaking you to wake you up,” Joel says, quietly as he can but you hear so much pain in his voice. “I’m sorry,” you say, “Raiders, I was caught for, for...two years, a little while before I came here. The nightmares, I haven’t had one since I got here, I thought maybe I wouldn’t. I’m so sorry.” Joel is kneeling next to your bed, hands loosening around you, and you see he’s in his pajamas and his hair is all messy from sleep. He sits back a bit, and you see he’s visibly angry, “Nothin’ to be sorry about. That’s never gonna happen to you again, I promise you that.” Still trying to catch your breath you say, “You can’t promise that, Joel.” He sits up again, closer to you. “You are here now, look at me,” and you do, its blurry without your glasses but he’s so close you can see into his eyes, “You’re here now and I’m not going to let anything hurt you like that ever again.” You try to nod but he continues, “Oh, god, you’re shaking so much. What can I do?” After a moment of silence you ask, “Will, will you hold me?” and before you can finish your question, he climbs up beside you, puts his arms around you and has your cheek resting over his heart that’s beating wildly. As his heart calms, so do you and you fall back asleep.

When you wake, you’re disoriented. You’re asleep on your side but you feel a large, warm presence behind you, and a large arm draped over you. For a moment, you freeze in terror and Joel, who was already awake feels the shift, grabbing you gently but firm to turn you so you face him. He says your name over and over, looking into your eyes and you finally breathe. Then he can finally breathe, and he lays his forehead against yours hovering over you, his eyes closed. Before you can think, you reach up to cup his cheek and he leans into it, snuggling your palm. And you think you’ve never felt this safe in your whole life. You’re so close. It would only take a slight movement of your neck, and your lips would touch. And then they do. His lips are so soft and so warm and your lips slot so perfectly with his. He doesn’t hesitate to deepen the kiss, licking at your bottom lip with his tongue, begging to be let in. You gladly welcome him, and he licks into your mouth, exploring you, tasting you. He tastes like mint and a hint of late-night coffee. Without thought, both your bodies start to move with each other and a moan escapes your lips only to be swallowed by Joel’s ravenous mouth against yours. You feel his hardness on your thigh, rubbing up against you. You start to run your fingers through his beautiful hair. It’s so soft.

Suddenly, there’s a slam of a door, “Joel?” Tommy yells from downstairs and Joel jerks away from you. Wild-eyed, dark and full of desire, lips pink and swollen from kissing. He stands up off the bed and you’re still trying to catch your breath, laid out on the bed in front of him, looking open and wanting. You can feel the slick pooling at the entrance between your legs. “It’s Tommy, I gotta,” he starts. “I know, it’s okay.” You smile shyly at him; he doesn’t smile back. And then he’s gone. You lay your head back on the pillow and sigh. Smiling ear to ear but also nervous about what almost happened. Does he want you as much as you want him? Fuck, you hope so. After what you’ve been through, you deserve to have something you want, right? You roll over to find the pillow Joel was laying on and inhale his scent.

A bit later, and fully dressed, you make your way downstairs to see Joel standing in the living room and Ellie in a chair looking utterly pissed off and you wonder what the hell you just walked into. Ellie stands looking at you sadly, then stares at Joel and stalks off for her garage. Once she’s gone Joel starts speaking, not really looking at you, not in the eyes at least. “They’ve got a place ready for you, above the bakery. It’s ready today. S’what Tommy came to tell me.” It’s like a punch to your gut. You knew this was going to happen, but you didn’t think it’d be this fast. You almost thought that maybe it wouldn’t ever happen. It was going well here with you and Joel and Ellie. Right? God, you’re stupid, they’re each other’s family. You’re just a new person in town and they were just doing you a favor. It wasn’t your bedroom, it wasn’t your wolf mug, Ellie wasn’t your daughter, and Joel wasn’t yours. Your eyes brim with tears and you ask quietly, “What about this morning, Joel,” He cuts you off, his voice low, “Was a mistake, won’t happen again, this’ll be better for you.” You feel like he slapped you and stand to run upstairs so he doesn’t see you cry, again.

Tommy comes to help you with the two small boxes of things to take to the new place. He looks from you to Joel and neither of you will look at each other or him. Joel puts one more thing in the box Tommy is carrying as Ellie emerges to give you a hug before you start walking off the front porch. The hug starts off awkward until it turns into the most amazing hug you’ve had in decades. “You have to come visit me, I’m above the bakery, we’ll eat so much bread.” Ellie smiles, laying her head on your shoulder, Joel walks off into the house. “I’m so angry at him, he’s being a stupid asshole and a coward,” Ellie says, and Tommy looks back into the house seemingly trying to piece together what’s going on. “It’s okay, Ellie. I’ll see you, promise.”

After Tommy leaves you at your new apartment, you sit and stare at the floor, it’s a cute place, perfect for just you. A small kitchen, a breakfast nook by the front window, one bedroom and a pretty bathroom with a tub and a shower. And it smells amazing, but you can’t enjoy it. You feel cold being away from him, your lips feel lost without his. You don’t feel safe anymore. What had you done? What did you do to make him push you away so hard. He wouldn’t even look at you. And for the first time, since he saved you, you wish he hadn’t. Because this loneliness was worse than all the other times. This hurt more than you thought it could. And now you have to start over, alone, again.

Taglist: @somedayheaven @elegantduckturtle

If you'd like to be added to the taglist just let me know in a message or comment. :)

#ashleyfilm #joel miller plus size reader #joel tlou #pedro pascal fanfiction #seeing clearly #joel miller #the last of us #joel millerxf!OC plus size

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sweetcarrotsandroses97 · 4 days ago

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~ Broken Angel |4| Mon Rêve

Pairing: Archdeacon! Jungkook x Romani! Fem! Reader

Summary: It all began with a mistake that followed you like a shadow on a sunny day. You crossed paths with the enigmatic Archdeacon of Notre-Dame, Father Jeon Jungkook, who promised to protect you from demons he couldn't fight. 15th Century, Paris. A lie. A stolen heartbeat and a confession that was never heard. He wanted you. You needed him. A secret turned into poison just as fate was cruel and it made him love you. Bounded by his vows and his position, Jungkook could only keep you as close as a dream at his reach. A cruel dream forged in a sanctuary of shadows and thorns.

Warnings: religious themes, dark romance?, forbidden love, AGE GAP (Kook is like 30-ish and oc is in her early twenties), angst,use of offensive slurs (not by koo), mentions/implications of rape, groping, pervy man, mentions of stealing, mentions of lying, talks about redemption/forgiveness, traumatic flashback, Jungkook is a priest 😳, oc is described as a petite woman, oc is described as being of Romani origin but no physical description is given of her other than her small stature (for canon purposes), injury, blood, implied attack on oc, (let me know if I missed anything!)

Word Count: 5.1k words

A/N: I know it has taken me a lot to update this story and I am so sorry about that. I have good news tho, I just got my first job, darlings! I'm so happy to start on Monday and I'll do my best to keep on writing and posting here as you have all been a great support of my writing shenanigans.

I hope you will enjoy this chapter even though it is a bit more dense and it's longer than other chapters. Koo is a sweetheart (as always) and we'll finally see what has been going on with his woman all along!

Let me know your thoughts in the comments! You know I love to hear what you think of the chapter 🫶🫶🫶

Jungkook paced with anxiousness across his room. You lay on his large four poster bed. The covers were bundled at your feet while the physician examined and cleaned your wound. Your hair was spread out on the pillow, your body limp against the linens that were now stained with blood.

The candles flickered yet his heart thundered. The room was quiet, but his mind was in chaos. Jungkook paced back and forth, back and forth in his room, his robes sweeping the floor. His hands tightened at his sides, fisting in helplessness. His nails bit at his sweaty palms and his eyes bore desperation in those dark pits of mysterious thoughts.

“How is she?”

The archdeacon finally spoke. Stopping his pacing as he looked at the young physician. He was a friend of his, Kim Seokjin. A man that had travelled from far lands to learn medicine, picking knowledge from each place he set foot.

Seokjin looked up, wiping his hands in a cloth as he turned to look at Jungkook. The slightly older man gazed at the priest with sympathy in his brown eyes. He put the cloth away, straightening up and walking towards him as he spoke in a soft voice so as to not wake you up.

“I managed to stop the bleeding. The wound wasn’t deep, it was more of a slice on her side than an actual stab wound. She should recover with time. Let her rest.”

Jungkook nodded, swallowing the lump of emotions in his throat. It was a bitter gulp. For he was not afraid, not anymore. He was angry, furious at those who had dared to harm her, desperate to find answers. But most importantly, he felt a burning passion to protect her. To keep her safe, to keep her by his side.

“Thank you, Seokjin.”

The physician nodded, placing a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder in shared sympathy.

“She’s stronger than she looks, Jungkook. But you must ensure that she doesn’t strain herself. Her body will need time to heal, and she’ll need care—gentle care.”

Jungkook’s jaw clenched, his eyes flickering over to your still form on the bed. The pale dance of the candle illuminated your beautiful features, shadows painted your face as if you were a delicate painting of gentle strokes.

But the slight rise and fall of your chest was his reassurance that you were still with him. Still fighting, still clinging to life. His hands trembled as they rested at his sides so he clasped them behind his back, his grip on himself tight to control his emotions. These feelings that circled his heart like poisonous ivy yet he was already addicted to it.

“I will. She will have everything she needs.”

And more.

Jungkook spoke in a low and firm voice yet thought the last part to himself. Seokjin studied him for a moment. He observed the longing in his friend’s eyes, the swallow that bobbed his Adam's apple. The subtle purse of his lips.

“It’s not just her body that will need mending, wounds like these… they scar more than flesh.”

Seokjin’s words were quiet, meant only for Jungkook to hear. The archdeacon looked back at his friend, his gaze hardening. Jin turned to look at you, sighing deeply at the sight of your limp form on the bed.

“Whatever happened to her anyway?”

Jungkook clenched his jaw, his hands fisting by his sides as he lifted his chin in the air. It pained him to think what had happened to you. A part of him burned to know the truth. All the secrets you had been hiding from him. Yet the other half of his heart hesitated. Because he didn’t know what he was going to hear. He didn’t know what his reaction would be to that information. He didn’t know if he’d sympathise with you without wrecking havoc or burning down all of Paris for you.

“I don’t know. Not yet, at least.”

Seokjin nodded, looking back at the young priest with sympathetic eyes. He offered Jungkook a gentle smile, a resigned expression.

“I hope you find out. Call for me if she worsens, be careful with her.”

The archdeacon dismissed the physician with a subtle inclination of his head and a gesture from his hand. Once alone with the door closed, Jungkook sighed to himself. He ran a hand through his hair, his fingers trading through his brown and soft locks. His heart was a turmoil of questions and feelings he could no longer control. All the fear, the desperation as you had collapsed in his arms. The love, the lust, the guilt, the sorrow. They all mixed together, creating a cruel concoction of murky thoughts and shadowed desires.

He walked to the bed —his bed— and looked down at your sleeping form. The sight of you like this, so fragile, so unlike the vibrant force you usually were, struck him like a physical blow to the heart.

His eyes softened as he knelt by the bed, his knees pressing into the cold stone floor. His fingers hovered against yours, hesitant to touch you. Hesitant to harm you further. Weary of the feelings touching you would stir in his heart, the way they could taint his soul further with this burning desire he couldn’t suppress.

But he was weak, in his temptation, in his religion. In his own boundaries when it came to you. His hand touched yours, enveloping in the warmth of his large palm. Your skin was cold, your hand limp in his grasp.

“You should never have been hurt,”

Jungkook whispered, his voice breaking through the stillness of the room and the delicate cracking of the hearth. His fingers curled around yours, holding onto you, tethering you to him in this moment, in this instance of ardent emotions that seared through his soul.

“I should have been there. I should have stopped this.”

His free hand moved to brush a stray hair from your face, his touch lingering more than what was necessary as his palm rested on your cheek. His dark eyes, normally so still and emotionless, were now tender and filled with worry that threatened to bleed out like tears of poison.

The young archdeacon watched you with want, with desire. And a burning need to protect you. He took you in, the light shadow of your lashes against your skin, the curve of your lips, the shape of your nose. It looked as if you had turned more beautiful since the last time he saw you. As if you were the protagonist of one of the ethereal tapestries that hung on the cathedral walls. The candle at his bedside table flickered, the shadows sharpened your features. How beautiful you were. To him, there was no other beauty that could ever compare to him. Not the beauty of his faith, nor the one from the very cathedral. There was nothing as mesmerising as you. Mon Rêve. His dream. You were his dream. A perfect illusion of your soul.

“I swear to you,”

He continued, his voice low yet firm. It trembled with emotion yet it darkened with the weight of his promise.

“I swear, mon rêve, over everything that is holy that no one will ever touch you again. No one will ever hurt you. Not while you have me, not while I breathe.”

His hand left your cheek as he adjusted the wool blanket that covered your frame on the large mattress. His other hand never let go of yours. You stirred slightly, a soft sound escaping your lips but you didn’t wake. Only God knew what you had been through. But he was going to protect you with everything he had now that you were in his domain. In his cathedral. In his life.

Your eyes opened as a subtle groan left your lips. You looked around, your head hurt, drumming along the melody of your heart. You were first aware of the comfortable bed you were laying in. It was soft, cushioned beneath your weight. This was heaven. Perhaps you had died and your sufferment was over, perhaps you had died and this was the beginning of your torment.

You looked at your right, spotting a large window of stained glass. The morning light streamed through it, making beams of scarlet, blue and gold reflect onto the stone floor. The room was tidy, austere but comfortable. At the far end of it there was a burning fireplace, the soothing sound of the cracking flames easing your mind.

You took a deep breath, pushing yourself up on the bed. Pain shot through your side, a gasp escaped your lips and your eyes scrunched shut at the agony that seared on your abdomen. With a whimper, you leaned back on the headboard. Your hands fisted the dark silky sheets beneath you as the burning on your side subsided ever so slowly.

The sound of a door opening made you look up, your heart skipped a beat when you saw him.

Jungkook.

He stood at the doorway holding a silver tray in his hands. His eyes locked with yours and you saw how his gaze softened. Relief washed over him as he saw you conscious once more, or maybe a flicker of vulnerability he rarely allowed to surface. He closed the door behind him with his foot, the soft thud resounding in the otherwise quiet bedroom.

“You’re awake.”

His voice was soft but it carried that air of authority that made your sink further into the pillows behind you. His calming presence made you feel safe, he allowed you to relax in this world of shadows and secrets you were caught in.

He crossed the room to you as you nodded. Not once did you take your eyes off of him. You couldn’t. His long, dark robes swished with each step he took, his hands were steady as he carried the tray and settled it down on the nightstand at your left where an extinguished candle lay as well.

“Where… where am I?”

Your voice was laced with the remnants of your pain. It was soft, vulnerable. And you didn’t know how the sound of it tugged at his heartstrings.

Jungkook sat down on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipped under his weight. He studied you with calculating eyes but his gaze softened as he took in the unnatural pallor of your skin, the slight tremble of your hands as they fisted the blankets and how your features were tense with what he could guess was pain.

“You are in my quarters, it’s alright. You are safe here, no one will harm you now.”

The weight of his words settled over you like a warm blanket, but the memories still lingered, the way you had run, the burning in your lunds, the pain in your feet, the swinging of your long skirts; they were like shadows on the edge of your mind. You lowered your eyes, shame and confusion washing over you.

“How… how did I get here?”

He clenched his teeth, resisting the urge to take your hand in his larger one. Jungkook remembered what had happened last night, the intruders, the panic in your voice. The pleading for safety.

“You pleaded Sanctuary. You were injured, badly. I couldn’t leave you, I could never deny you.”

Jungkook’s voice was steady, yet there was an unmistakable tremor of emotion that lingered beneath the surface. He watched as your lips parted slightly, as if you wanted to speak, but the weight of your secrets seemed to silence you. He reached over to the tray, lifting the cloth that covered a bowl of soup and a plate of bread. The scent wafted through the air, warm and inviting, making your stomach churn with hunger.

“You need to eat,”

He said, his voice soft as he placed the tray on your lap with careful precision. His hands moved with a gentleness that contrasted with the sharpness of his gaze.

“You’ve been through enough. Your body needs strength.”

You hesitated, your eyes darting from the food to his face. There was something in the way he looked at you—a quiet intensity that made it impossible to refuse. Slowly, you reached for the spoon, your fingers trembling as they wrapped around it. Jungkook didn’t look away, didn’t flinch. Instead, he reached for the edge of the tray and steadied it, his presence grounding you in this moment of fragility.

The first sip of the soup was like a balm to your aching soul. The warmth spread through you, soothing the emptiness that clawed at your insides. It was potato soup, the best meal you had ever tasted. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were until now, and as you took another bite, Jungkook’s lips curled into the faintest hint of a smile.

“That’s it. Eat, my dear. You’ll feel better.”

He murmured, his voice low, you almost didn’t hear it. The bread was soft, the crust crisp as you tore off a piece and dipped it into the broth. You ate with a quiet desperation, each bite filling a void that had seemed endless. Jungkook remained by your side, watching over you like a sentinel, his dark eyes flickering with emotions he kept tightly under control.

As you ate, the silence between you felt heavy but not oppressive. It was as if Jungkook knew you needed this moment to gather yourself, to let the food and warmth begin to mend the frayed edges of your being. His presence was constant, unyielding, yet there was a gentleness in his proximity—a steadying force in the chaotic storm you had been swept into.

When you had eaten enough to dull the sharp ache in your stomach, you set the spoon down on the tray, your movements still trembling. Jungkook noticed immediately and reached out, his long fingers brushing against yours as he lifted it from your lap. The touch was fleeting, yet it grounded you in the present moment. He placed it on the nightstand with a quiet grace, his every movement deliberate, as if not to startle you.

“You were starving,”

His words made you swallow in nervousness. He wasn’t asking. He knew. And for that, you felt deeply conscious of your current situation, more so under his dark and sharp gaze. And yet, his voice was devoid of any judgement but in your self-reprimand, you didn’t notice the lace of concern that tangled with his words. His eyes locked with yours, searching but never prying for answers.

“When was the last time you had a proper meal?”

You hesitated, your hands twisting the blanket in your lap. The memories of the past days—or had it been weeks?—were a blur of fear, exhaustion, and endless running. You couldn’t remember the last time you had truly stopped to care for yourself. Shame crept up your neck, painting your cheeks a faint pink. You looked away, unable to meet his gaze.

“I don’t know… it’s been a while.”

Your voice was quiet, hesitant and embarrassed. It was nearly a whisper but it pulled at his heartstrings to hear speak with such vulnerability.

Jungkook leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on his knees, his posture relaxed but his gaze intense. His brows furrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line as he considered your words. He wanted to ask more, to unravel the mystery of your suffering, but he held back, sensing that you were not yet ready.

“Drink some water,”

He said, his tone filled with authority despite the softness in his deep voice. Once again, he wasn’t asking you. He commanded. With his presence, with his voice, with those eyes that were so dark you could lose yourself in them if you let go of your sanity. The young archdeacon reached to the tray once more, his long hand circling a silver cup filled with fresh water.

He handed it to you, and this time, you couldn’t suppress the shiver that racked through your spine when his fingers brushed yours one more time. You took a sip, your eyes fixed on the bottom of the top as you felt his attention fully on you, the cool liquid managed to sooth your dry throat and after you finished it, you cradled the cup in your hands. You looked down at it as if it were the most interesting thing in the world when in reality, Jungkook’s gaze intimidated you. Not because you saw the monotonous archdeacon, but because his eyes spoke feelings you were too scared to acknowledge.

After a moment of silence, Jungkook leaned back slightly, his dark robes pooling around him like shadows. His gaze softened, but his expression remained unreadable.

“I will never force you to tell me, I hate myself for even asking but (y/n), you are clearly running from something—or someone. I can protect you, but only if I know who wants to harm you.”

His words were a quiet plea, an offering of solace that you hadn’t expected. Your hands tightened around the silver cup as the memories threatened to resurface, as the walls you had so carefully built began to crack under his unwavering gaze.

“I… I can’t”

He sighed, leaning forward. One of his large hands covered yours over the cup you held, steadying your grip around it. Your eyes snapped up to meet his gaze, feeling how your heart thumped in your chest. Your eyes filled with tears and his expression softened.

“I only want to help you, (y/n). I do not wish to cause you harm, of any kind at all. You do not have to say anything if it pains you, but know that I seek to keep you safe.”

You bit your lower lip, breaking eye contact as you gazed at the still water in the cup. Jungkook pursed his lips, his hand tightened around yours before he let go and stood up, you clearly needed space. He didn’t want to seem like he was forcing you, he’d never force you to do anything but the moment he straightened up and his grip left your hand, your heart dropped.

The moment his hand left yours, the room felt colder, emptier. Your chest constricted as fear bubbled up, overwhelming your senses. Before you could think, your hand darted out, grabbing his wrist with a trembling grip.

“Wait! —please…”

He looked down at you, his gaze cryptic. Your eyes filled with tears, pearls of sadness that reflected your frustration, your grief. Jungkook sat down on the bed, his hand still clasped in yours. You couldn’t hold your gaze, you couldn’t face him as you were about to pour out your soul, your secrets. You’d open your heart for the first time in your life. Your eyes were casted downwards, fixed on your hands that cradled his larger palm.

“Can I be granted forgiveness?”

Your question made his heart seize, his posture relaxed and he did not make a move to take his hand away from your gentle grasp.

“God forgives every sin, my dear.”

You bit your lower lip to stop it from trembling, the tears spilled down, the knot in your throat quieted your voice, making you speak in just a soft whisper.

“Even for someone like me?”

Jungkook tilted your chin up, his thumb ran over your bottom lip, forcing you to stop biting it. You looked into his eyes, losing yourself in them for a moment. His eyes calmed your racing heart, your swirling thoughts.

“We are all children of God, there are no outcasts in this holy place.”

You took a deep breath, the candle at the bedside table flickered. You saw the dancing flame reflected in his eyes and the deep compassion that shone brighter than the moon in a dark night.

“I want to repent from my sins. I… I feel so guilty, so dirty.”

His hand left your chin and rested atop yours that still held his other hand between your palms. He didn’t pressure you, didn’t ask you. He only gave you his silent comprehension.

“The governor is searching for me, I-I took something from him. I have lied, I have stolen from the people who fed me, I have sold myself. I–I only want to live.”

A sob escaped your lips, the tears came again, unbidden this time. They flowed down your cheeks like rivers of grief as you mourned for your sins, the loss of your innocent soul and the tainted spirit you now carried with yourself.

1 year ago…

“Must you always be on the way, gypsy girl?!

You bowed down at the governor as he shoved past you in the ornate corridor of his big mansion. The plain fabric of your long skirt crumbled under your clenched fists, you heard the old and fat man walking down the hallways before disappearing into his study. The air in the governor’s mansion was always heavy—heavy with disdain, with arrogance, and with a suffocating sense of entitlement that reeked from every corner. You hated it, but you had no choice. It was survival. You were nothing more than a servant—“gypsy girl,” as they called you—never addressed by name, never acknowledged as a person.

The governor’s sneer as he passed you was something you had grown used to, though it still sent a cold shiver down your spine. The weight of his gaze lingered on you longer than it should have, and you hated how powerless you felt under it.

But it wasn’t just the governor who demeaned you. Every day was a constant stream of insults and sneers from the household staff and visitors alike.

“Filthy thing. Try not to stain the floors with whatever diseases you bring from the camps.”

One of the maids hissed at you as you scrubbed the marble floor, splashing dirty water onto your hands. You said nothing, swallowing the bitterness rising in your throat. Talking back would earn you a slap, or worse, a trip to the governor’s private chambers—a fate you dreaded above all else.

You remembered the first time it happened. It was silent and you were alone in the dining room one rainy evening. The sound of crystal chandeliers swaying above you as the faint hum of conversation drifted from the next room. The governor had entered, his steps slow, deliberate. Calculating. You hadn’t looked up. You weren’t allowed to. But if you had, you would have seen the evil smile that stretched over his languid features.

“You have grown, girl.”

His voice was oily and oddly sweet. It made your skin crawl. His beady eyes ran up and down your form, despite the modesty of your simple dress, you had felt naked in that instant, wishing nothing else but to disappear and become one of the pretty ladies in the paintings that hung all over the manor.

You had frozen in place, your hands clutching the rag you used to polish the silver. He had walked around you, circling like a predator cornering its prey.

“Do you know how lucky you are to serve in this house? To have a roof over your head, food in your belly?”

Your stomach twisted, you nodded, not uttering a single world. You felt him going behind you, your heart was drumming within your chest. As if it could somehow escape the confinement of your ribcage. His warm breath had brushed your neck as he took your hair and pushed it to the side, tears had gathered in your eyes. Tears of anger, of frustration, of helplessness. For you were alone in a world of wolves.

“Then you will repay my generosity. You will obey, or you will find yourself back on the streets—or worse.”

He had whispered, his hand trailing across your shoulder, making your body recoil, your stomach twist and your heart to stop.

You remembered the first time it happened. That night was your worst memory, your ugliest fear. You endured the cruelty of his perversion and the weight of his twisted mind. It wasn’t just the physical torment—though that was bad enough—it was the degradation, the feeling of being stripped of your humanity. You were no longer a person; you were a possession, a plaything.

And yet, through it all, you had kept your mind sharp, your spirit quietly burning with a desperation to escape. You watched. You listened. You learned.

One night, you overheard him boasting to a guest in his study about a decree he had signed—an order to “cleanse” the city of your people. He laughed as he spoke, talking about how the Romani were a stain on Paris, how their removal would bring peace and order.

Your heart had pounded in your chest as you realized the danger looming over your family, your people. The thought of their camps being raided, of the children and elders being slaughtered, ignited a fire within you.

You knew you couldn’t stop it—not alone. But you could run. You could escape with the decree, use it to expose him or to bargain for safe passage out of Paris.

And when you saw your opportunity, you took it. Without hesitation, without mercy. Just like they didn’t have mercy on you.

It came one night after the governor had stumbled back to his chambers in a drunken stupor, leering at you as you brought him his wine. His words were slurred while grabbing your wrist with an iron grip. “Stay. Entertain me.”

The memories of that night after he had said those words to you were a blur. You didn’t think much of that night, thanking that you were being protected by the obvious horrors your body and your mind had been exposed to in the hands of that bastard.

You had crept into his study, the desk was a mess. And under the light of a single candle your fingers quickly found what you were looking for: the decree. It bore his signature and the royal seal, its words a death sentence for your people.

You folded it, hiding it between the folds of your skirt. You had a second of hesitation, a heartbeat to think before you also grabbed the small, golden seal as well. Without it, the document was not valid and it was your opportunity of getting free passage out of Paris, this cursed city that had harmed your soul, taken your innocence and attacked your people. It was a promise of freedom that came with a signature of blood.

The memories dissipated from before your eyes. Your hands were trembling as you had let go of Jungkook’s hand and were now fisting the blankets of the bed. The tears wouldn’t stop coming, the pain, the memories, the humiliation. Everything came crashing back down at you like a tsunami of darkness. You were screaming underwater, where nobody heard. You were walking in snow, where no path was left behind and your destination could not be seen at all.

“I had to do it. I had to escape. If… if they hadn’t killed me first, I would have done it sooner or later; I couldn’t bear it anymore.”

Jungkook sat before you, his warm hands hesitating before finally resting over yours, still fisting the blankets. His touch was gentle, his fingers barely grazing your trembling knuckles, as though he was afraid you might shatter if he held you too tightly.

“You don’t have to explain, my dear. No one has the right to judge you for surviving.”

He whispered, his voice trembling with compassion. His thoughts were a dark concoction of emotions he had yet to decipher. Mon Rêve, what has been done to you? He felt a simmering fury bubble within his chest, but there was this icy sadness that enveloped his heart at the truths he just heard.

But you couldn’t stop. The words spilled out of you like an open wound, raw and unstoppable.

“They think I’m a thief, a liar, a—” your voice broke, and you choked back a sob, your chest heaving as the weight of it all crushed you. “But I was nothing to them—less than nothing. Just a gypsy girl they could use and discard. I was never going to matter to anyone… I had to matter to myself.”

Jungkook reached up, cupping your face. His thumbs brushed away the endless tears streaking your cheeks, but the warmth in his touch only seemed to make the flood worse. His eyes searched yours, desperate to hold you together as you crumbled before him like a beautiful glass doll that was cracked by the world’s cruelty.

“You matter to me.”

He said firmly, his voice breaking on the last word. His hands shook slightly, betraying the storm he was trying so hard to conceal. Your eyes softened and you couldn’t stop the tears that rolled down your cheeks.

“And to God, you are His child. You were never forgotten, even when it felt like the world had turned against you.”

You shook your head, the anguish and shame too deeply ingrained to believe him.

“I am so broken. I have done terrible things, things that do not deserve forgiveness. I am tainted. Corrupted. I’ve become—”

“Stop.”

Jungkook said, his voice quiet but commanding. His hands slid from your face to your shoulders, holding you steady so you would hold his gaze.

“You are not broken. You are not beyond forgiveness. You are not beyond redemption. You did what you had to do to survive. You are here now, and that is all that matters.”

The gentleness in his voice unraveled something within you. He untied the coil of your memories, letting them flow. Letting you cry as you sobbed. Your body shook and you whimpered and gasped and cried. Jungkook didn’t hesitate; he pulled you into his arms, his strong embrace engulfing your shaking form as he held you tightly against his chest. He let you cry, one of his hands rested on the back of your head as you screamed and wailed out your grief that had choked you for months. He rocked you ever so softly, his arms tightening around you, grounding your mind to the present, away from the memories that corrupted your soul and shielded you from your fears.

“I promise you,”

He began, murmuring in a soft voice that seemed to come from the angels themselves. His words tangled in your hair as you clung to him like your only anchor in a sea of despair.

“I promise you are safe here. As long as I breathe, no-one will hurt you again, mon rêve.”

The endearment slipped from his lips but you didn’t mind. His words felt fragile, fleeting, like a prayer cast into the wind. You clung to him, burying your face into his shoulder as the dam finally broke. The pain you had carried alone for so long poured out of you in waves, and he held you through every sob, every tremble.

“You are not broken, my dear. You are a survivor and I will always keep you safe. Always.”

January/23/2025

~ Masterpost

☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕

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x-press-it · 3 months ago

Text

Devilish Desires - 3/8

Dangerous Temptations, Irresistible Touch 🎞️❤️‍🔥🌹⚔️🖤💻🖱️

Sub!Logan Howlett x Dom!OC (They/Them)

Summary: Logan, typically guarded and dominant, finds himself captivated by E, a mysterious being with a devilish allure and ancient presence that challenges his control.

Context: This story unfolds 'within' the "Days of Future Past" new timeline, during Logan's early years as a history teacher at Xavier’s School. It’s set well before his consciousness from the original timeline reconnects with him in 2023, as seen at the film’s end.

Content Warnings (for the whole story): Smut 18+ (Dry humping, Edging, Unprotected p in v.) - Dom!Logan into Sub!Logan - Pet Names (Good boy, pretty boy, pet, pup, amongst others…) reversed age gap (Logan is younger) - OC Notes: Established name, backstory, powers, fighting style, female body but gender fluid character (Logan misgender them at first because he doesn’t know, even in the descriptions) - Mention of other character from the MCU and subtle references to the comics for flavor (not mandatory to understand what is happening) - Flash back and mention of past trauma - Very quick mentions of drugs - Fluff with Dark Undertones: Emotional tension and possessive affection - Worship Themes: Religious imagery, reverent language and awe - Ancient Mysticism: References to otherworldly or demonic presence - Mental Health: Power dynamics, personal vulnerabilities - Trope: Rivals to lovers.

I'm back after 10 years of iatus and fairly new to how things are done on tumblr now, so sorry if I missed any warnings. Also english isn't my first language so there might be typos/weird sentences...

Notes: Got very inspired by sub!Logan and repeated listening of "Between wind and water" by Hael. Cover made with canva from an idea I got from this post. If you know who made the picture, tell me so I can credit them - Click on the divider to find the creator. Also this was meant to be an imagine turned into a full story. Just so you know, some chapters are very short, other are long. I'm in the process of editing/writing/rewriting parts so I'll post a chapter everytime I have one fully edited. This chapter was hard to wrestle with, but I won! Mention of legal stuff but I'm no lawyer so there might be inconsistencies ^^" Also brace yourself, power shift incoming.

Need some music? I've got you

Previously: in Devilish Desires

Chapters: 3/8

Word Count: 7.1K / 60K+ for now

Sunlight filtered through the wide windows of Charles' office, casting a warm glow over the mahogany desk and polished floors. Logan paused in the doorway, feeling the familiar tension coil through him even before he fully entered. His gut twisted as he took in the sight of E leaning casually against the desk, one hip propped up, her head already turned toward the door, watching him approach. The calm, focused look on her face set him on edge, like she was always one step ahead, pulling unseen strings. Every time he saw her, it felt like she dug her claws deeper into his space, into him, without even trying.

"Logan, come in." The professor’s voice was warm, though there was a hint of tiredness to it. "We were just finishing up. Have a seat."

Logan ignored the invitation, his arms crossing over his chest as his eyes locked on E. “What’s this about?”

Charles gestured to the papers on his desk. "As you know, the school is growing, and with that comes more scrutiny from the government." He glanced at E, then back to Logan. "That’s why we worked on some contracts—to make everything as official and seamless as possible. We want things above board, so no one has any reason to be suspicious of us."

Logan’s pulse quickened as Charles spoke, each word digging into a place he’d thought had scarred over but never truly healed. He could feel the weight of the documents between them, a weight pressing down on his chest, squeezing until he couldn’t breathe. Just the mention of those papers, the mere sight of them, was like a trigger pulled—snapping him back to shadows he’d fought to bury. Contracts meant control; control meant deceit. Old instincts roared awake, instincts that told him to fight, to claw his way free. His mind twisted back, unbidden, to the sharp crack of a pen against paper, his name signed under false pretenses. Faces flashed before him, cold and detached, each one using him as if he were nothing more than sharpened adamantium, each one an anchor dragging him back to glimpses of a past he desperately tried to escape, yet crave to piece back together at the same time.

Memories slammed together—soldiers' cries, the dead weight of bodies, his own silent rage coiled like barbed wire around his gut. Promises broken, betrayals… He could barely register the room around him, the walls that meant safety and acceptance. All he felt now was the past closing in, like a cage—restrictive, suffocating. And then a single thought broke through, a rough mantra, ringing into his head, so loud it pulled him from the spiral: “Today is victory over yourself of yesterday…”

Logan blinked hard, shaking his head as he forced himself back to his senses, the slow ache of his claws tearing through his knuckles breaking through the fog. With gritted teeth, he pulled them back before they became visible. After a short sigh, his eyes flicked from the papers to E, then to Charles, his scowl deepening. “This is bullshit. I’m not some soldier you can pin down with paperwork, Chuck.” His voice was low, the ghost of past betrayals still burning in his chest as his hand clenched tightly at his side. “I don’t belong to anyone, and I sure as hell don’t need to be tied up in a contract like this. I’ve been here long enough, and I’m not about to start following rules that don’t make sense to me.”

Charles clasped his hands together on his desk, his voice soft but firm, trying to ease the distress he saw in his friend’s behavior. “Logan, you’re right,” he validated, calm yet earnest. “You’re no soldier here—you’re a mentor, and you’ve proven that. But this contract is necessary. You know the risks; despite Raven’s actions, the government is still watching mutants closely after all these years. These contracts are for the teachers’ protection, for the students, and for the school itself.”

His expression was calm, deliberate, like he was teaching a class. Logan could see the weight of responsibility on Charles's shoulders, a reminder of the burdens they all carried. “It’s a formality to ensure you’re recognized as part of the staff. If they start asking questions, this contract might be our best defense.”

He held Logan’s gaze, the tension building in the air between them. In a quieter tone, he added, “This isn’t about control; it’s about security. If something were to happen, this paperwork could mean the difference between staying under the radar and drawing unwanted attention.” Logan felt a flicker of unease at the thought but pushed it aside, his feral pride refusing to let him show any weakness in front of E.

He shook his head, the tension in his shoulders thickening with each word. “A formality? Security? It’s a damn leash, that’s what it is! And I know she’s behind this.” His tone was sharp, the accusation clear as his chin jerked toward E, his eyes still on Charles.

E raised a brow, a slight smirk dancing at the corner of their lips. “They,” they corrected smoothly, their voice slipping in like silk over a blade.

Logan’s eyes snapped to her face, his brows knitting in confusion, anger swirling in his glare. “What?”

“You said ‘she,’” E explained, their tone lilting with amusement, not even flinching under the weight of his gaze. “I prefer ‘they.’”

For a second, Logan blinked, caught off guard. The shift in their demeanor—so detached, almost playful—disarmed him. It was a rare response to his fury, and it chipped away at the anger bubbling in his chest. He gave a quick, gruff nod, like a student getting a slap on the wrist for falling into a master’s trap. “Right. They.”

His lips pressed into a firm line, the weight of the situation settling like a stone in his gut. Yet, that primal part of him refused to fold so easily. “But that ain’t the point. The point is, I’m not signing a damn thing before I’ve read it. I’m not some teacher that punches a clock. You know me, Charles.”

Charles nodded, like he expected this. “I do, my friend. And I don’t want to force you into anything you’re uncomfortable with. But it’s necessary. If you’re going to keep mentoring, you need to be recognized officially as part of the school’s staff.”

Logan’s jaw clenched as his gaze flicked from the papers back to E, who hadn’t taken their eyes off him. His fingers twitched, itching to pull at the collar of his shirt, the weight of the contract already tightening around his neck.

A metallic muffled sound came from under E’s jacket’s sleeve as they shifted, leaning into their stance with one hand on Charles’ desk, the other resting on their waist and Logan’s eyes were drawn, almost against his will, to the subtle curve of their chest beneath the deep red blouse. The top few buttons were undone, revealing just a hint of cleavage, a thin golden chain that held a delicate white pearl, resting against their skin. For a second, his thoughts strayed before he forced his gaze back up, catching the faint hint of their dark horns just peeking from under their hair—a sharp reminder of exactly who he was dealing with.

“It’s just official paperwork, Logan,” they said, voice smooth with a playful lilt, enjoying the ripple of energy they felt from him as his thoughts wandered, though their expression stayed composed. “I can help you with the legal mumbo jumbo if you’re having trouble. I’d be happy to give you a private lesson… walk you through all the fine print, personally.”

Logan’s cheeks flushed, just for a second, barely noticeable beneath his hardened exterior, but it was there. E could feel the familiar tingle coming from him, that want simmering beneath his anger. His jaw tightened, fists clenching at his sides, and he shot them a glare, willing the heat away as if it’d been nothing. “I ain’t havin’ trouble with anything,” he growled, his voice low and rough. But E simply watched him with an amused, knowing glint in their eye, a faint laugh catching under their breath.

Charles, observing the exchange, raised an eyebrow, eyes twinkling with the slightest bit of humor. Clearing his throat gently, he spoke up in to ease the rising tension. “E, let’s not push too hard. Logan’s cautious, but we need to find a compromise. And Logan, I’m afraid that until we reach an agreement that satisfies both sides, I’ll have to ask you to step down from your teaching position. I can’t risk the school’s safety.”

The words hit like a punch to the gut. Logan stiffened, his fists clenching harder, knuckles now white. Stepping down? It felt like an ultimatum, but Charles wasn’t wrong. The safety of the school had always come first. E’s gaze softened just slightly, though he could still see that flicker of amusement in their eyes. “You’re right, Professor. My apologies.” They turned to Logan, offering a nod. “I got carried away—it was unprofessional of me. I understand where you’re coming from, and I’m willing to collaborate with you so we may find a solution that works for both parties.”

As E pulled away into their composed demeanor, he felt the thread coiling in his gut relaxing, leaving him more room to breathe.

Logan wasn’t used to them backing down that easily, and it threw him for a second. He shifted, narrowing his eyes in suspicion, his faint scowl deepening as he muttered, “Huh?” It was as if a switch had flipped, and he couldn’t help but wonder what their angle was. “Okay?”

And E could have left it there, but something inside urged them to add, a spark of teasing in their gaze, “After all, you’re not one to play by anyone else’s rules. So why not help shape the ones that work for you?”

Logan shot them a sharp look, their words sinking in slowly. He hated how they got under his skin, how easily they seemed to read him. But they weren’t wrong, either.

He took a breath, unclenching his hands, though he still felt like a cornered animal. “Fine. We’ll work something out. But I’m not signing anything that tries to box me in, Charles. I need enough room to be me.”

Charles’s expression softened in relief, giving a small nod of approval. “Of course, my friend. Take your time—I want you to feel comfortable with this. We’ll reconvene when you’re both ready.” He paused, glancing at the papers, before adding, “In the meantime, I’ve got other work that requires my attention.”

Logan barely registered the Professor dismissing them, his mind still tangled in the strange feeling of the interaction. E pushed off the desk gracefully, straightening the black jacket of their suit before gathering their things with practiced ease. When they finally stepped out of Charles’ office, Logan followed them out into the hallway. They walked in silence for a beat, the air between them still buzzing, though less tense than before. Yet, their scent still lingered—smoky, with a hint of spice—reminding him of their presence. And E, in turn, felt the simmering conflict inside him—the push and pull of resistance and attraction. It wasn’t enough to satiate them, but it would have to do for now, even if it left them wanting more. They allowed a brief, satisfied smile to ghost across their lips before tucking it away, resuming a more reserved expression.

“When do you want to go over the documents?” E’s voice was professional once more, all traces of their earlier playfulness gone, though a flicker of something else remained behind their eyes, like they were holding back.

Logan glanced over at them, still surprised by how quickly they’d shifted gears. This side of them—focused, efficient—was easier to handle. He could deal with this.

“Tomorrow, maybe. Got some time around three.”

E nodded, a hint of consideration in their gaze despite the reluctance in his tone. “I could make that work. We’ll go over everything, step by step. No surprises.”

The calm confidence they exuded kept catching him off guard, and against his better judgment, he found himself watching them differently. Was there more beneath that troublemaker act they put on around him?

E must’ve felt his gaze because they turned slightly, offering a small, almost sincere smile. “I’ll see you then.” Their voice was all business, but a hint of warmth slipped through—without the usual edge of teasing.

Logan grunted in response, but as they walked away, something lingered at the edge of his mind. Yes, there might be more to them than the predatory front they’d shown since they met. And maybe, just maybe, they weren’t as much trouble as he thought.

Or perhaps it was a ploy to lure him in, to make him relax and step willingly into their web. In any case, he wasn’t about to let his guard down. Not yet.

The library was quiet in the mid-afternoon light when Logan arrived, the subtle scent of aged paper and polished wood mixing with the now too familiar blend of spice wrapped in smoke. He pushed the door open with a soft creak, eyes immediately scanning the room, and sure enough, there they were—already seated at one of the large tables, surrounded by hefty open books, scattered documents, and a legal pad filled with meticulous notes.

E barely glanced up as he approached, their focus sharp on the papers spread out before them. The soft scratching of their pen on the smooth surface filled the air, the fluidity of their movements mesmerizing, almost hypnotic. Every action was deliberate, from the graceful lines they traced to the calm demeanor they carried.

Logan stood there for a moment, taking it all in—the precision and quiet focus they exuded. He couldn’t help but notice the neatness of their work: each point laid out clearly, with little diagrams and annotations. It wasn’t just thorough; it was methodical yet beautiful, almost like an art form. Even their handwriting, flowing effortlessly across the page—a blend of sharp angles and elegant curves—was damn near perfect.

He cleared his throat, and E, still writing, held up a finger, brows furrowed in focus. The gentle chime of their bracelets—three in total, one gold and two red—sounded as they moved, the soft music an elegant counterpoint to the silence. They needed to finish that thought, not wanting to lose their concentration. Logan waited for a few heartbeats, struck by the command in their motion, a powerful yet silent order that stoked the embers they had nestled in his chest during the last couple of weeks. When E finally looked up, their gaze met his with calm professionalism, but there was a flash of something else—an interest that sharpened their eyes, just for a heartbeat, before it vanished.

"You're early," they noted, their voice soft but steady, carrying just enough weight to catch his attention. "I wasn’t expecting you for another…” They quickly glanced at the delicate golden watch on their wrist. “… half hour, at least." There was a pause, and E gestured toward the chair on the other side of the table. "Please, sit."

Logan obeyed reluctantly, still unsettled by the way they were behaving—cold, detached, like they were someone else entirely. The tension between them had loosened so much he could hardly feel it, as if it might vanish entirely if he tried to reach for it. “Figured I’d get this over with,” he mumbled, his eyes not leaving their face.

A small smile played at the corner of their lips, and they flipped one of the hefty books closed to make room between them, before pushing a section of the contract toward him. "Well, I’ve already gone through most of the legal terms and highlighted the parts you might find concerning. If something still doesn’t sit right with you, we can discuss… adjustments."

Logan raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been busy.”

“I don’t like wasting time on work.” Their eyes flicked to the stack of notes they had assembled, before neatly setting them aside. “Let’s just get through this.”

Logan picked up the contract, flipping through the pages slowly. The neat little annotations caught his eye—small, concise memorandums in that same precise handwriting on flashy sticky notes, guiding him through each clause. As much as he hated to admit it, the thoroughness was impressive. “You really did all this?”

E leaned back slightly in their chair, crossing their arms, a faint smile playing at the corners of their lips, like they were enjoying something only they understood, and he felt a subtle pull inside, a tension stirring. “I told you I’d help you with the legal stuff, didn’t I?”

Logan’s eyes drifted to the pages again, unable to ignore how… perfect their handwriting was. Every sentence was clear, fluid, each letter delicate, intentional. They hadn’t just scrawled down information in a rush—not only they’d taken the time to make it legible, but it also felt like they had crafted something meant to be appreciated, drawn with careful control, patience, like each and every stroke mattered.

“You write like a damn artist,” he muttered despite himself, half impressed, half irked by the precision of it all.

E’s soft chuckle was barely audible, but he caught the faintest hint of satisfaction in their expression as they watched him linger on the page. They were absorbing his reaction, almost savoring it, letting his admiration wash over them like a silent, steady current. “Years of practice,” they replied, eyes glinting with a subtle satisfaction. “Didn’t expect you to notice details like that.”

He grunted in response, still staring at the page before flipping to another section. “I don’t miss much.”

E leaned forward again, the light jingle of their bracelets accompanying the movement as they tapped a finger on one of the highlighted paragraphs. “This part, in particular, is important. It’s a non-disclosure clause. You might want to pay special attention to that.”

Logan followed the motion of their finger, noting the cleanly filed nail that glimmered faintly under the light—maybe some sort of transparent polish? Even that was meticulously done, and the thought made something simmer in him before he blinked it away, refocusing on the contract. “So I can’t say anything about… what, exactly?”

“About the students. The curriculum. The specific ways the school operates,” they clarified, their tone even and clear, leaving no room for confusion, even as a subtle ripple passed between them. “It’s a precaution to ensure no one leaks sensitive information.”

Logan scowled, the idea gnawing at him. “I get why, but it feels like a muzzle.”

E’s gaze softened slightly as they leaned back again, folding their hands neatly on the table in front of them. The metallic sound of their bracelets chimed softly, a delicate accent to the motion. “It can feel that way, yes, but it’s standard for any organization handling confidential matters, especially one like this school. It's about protecting everyone here—especially you and the kids. Though, we can amend the wording if that’ll make you more… comfortable.”

Logan studied their face, taking in the sincerity behind their words. For once, it didn’t feel like they were toying with him or trying to play some angle. They were just doing their job—and a damn good one at that.

He exhaled sharply, leaning back in his chair. “I don’t like bein’ locked into something I don’t trust.”

E’s eyes softened as they nodded slowly, their expression understanding. “That’s fair. We can tweak the language so it’s more gray, more aligned with what you’re comfortable with. To give you room to adjust? You don’t have to feel trapped, Logan.”

Logan’s hand rubbed the back of his neck as he sighed. “You’re makin’ it real hard for me to argue, you know that?”

Their smile was faint, their fingers gently drumming on the wooden desk between them. “I’m not trying to make it harder. Just easier for you to see that this isn’t about control. It’s about protecting what you’re building here.”

Logan dropped his eyes to the contract again, that tight, familiar knot in his chest loosening just a bit. He didn’t trust easy—but they were making a damn good case. He couldn’t deny that. He could see how carefully they’d worked through the details, the amount of care they’d put into making this whole thing understandable. It was… reassuring, in a way. As much as he hated to admit it, they had a point. It wasn’t about locking him into anything—it was about making sure everything stayed secure. The kids came first, always.

He met their gaze again, something shifting between them. He still wasn’t ready to trust completely, but at least they were giving him a reason to reconsider. “Alright,” he muttered, almost grudgingly. “Let’s go through it.”

E smiled—this time, it was genuine. Not playful, not teasing, just… genuine, content. They slid a few more papers toward him, their focus back on the work, but Logan couldn’t help but notice the shift in their energy. As they started explaining the finer points, guiding him through each legal term with that same sharp professionalism, he couldn’t help but admire the way they handled things. They were focused, sharp, and professional.

Maybe this was the side of them he could start to respect.

For now.

They’d been at it for hours, bending and reshaping the terms until each clause balanced protection with freedom. E kept their demeanor professional, drawing on every ounce of restraint to keep their voice even and their gaze measured, ignoring the familiar hunger snapping at their focus now and then. And the more they worked, the more they could sense Logan beginning to relax, perhaps appreciating this side of them—this businesslike efficiency that gave him room to breathe, rather than the tension they used to stir in him. He was still sharp and guarded around them, but in the subtle shifts of his body language, they sensed they were both easing into a more comfortable exchange, his trust inching closer as they tweaked the terms to help him maintain his independence.

In his careful consideration of each clause, they saw how deeply he valued his autonomy. His desire to protect the kids and guide them through a brutal world was unmistakable, yet he seemed determined to do it on his own terms. Watching him was like seeing a reflection of their own drive: the same visceral need to resist being anyone’s pawn, to forge a path where people like them weren’t turned into weapons or tools for the powerful. E knew what it was to navigate that treacherous line, to have allies rather than be a pawn, to be indispensable but never owned. Becoming a lawyer had finally allowed them to create partnerships, to protect their independence in a way they hadn’t had in the past.

They looked at Logan now, the way he was part of something great without letting it absorb him, and felt a twinge of resonance. It was like looking into a rippling, distorted mirror: his methods protective where theirs were persuasive, his presence blunt where theirs was all charm and deliberate control. But that difference made sense, considering their mutations. He had claws; they had…this. This carefully wielded hold over emotions. Had they been born with claws, would they have protected instead of manipulated? They weren’t sure.

Their gaze drifted from the paper to his handsome face as they sank into those thoughts, the realization dawning—slow and unexpected—that he wasn’t simply a source of energy, or the toy they’d wanted him to be at first. He was a potential ally in a way few others could be. Someone who might amplify their strength instead of being drained. Not just a meal to be consumed but something rarer—a piece that, in its own strange way, completed the picture of who they could be. As if they were two sides of the same coin.

Lost in thought, they almost missed the slight cough as Logan cleared his throat, his voice breaking through their haze.

“Need a break?” he asked, a faint smirk tugging at his lips, catching them just off guard enough that they had to recompose themselves, reassemble that mask over their features before their thoughts slipped any further into the open.

“No, I’m good,” they replied, eyes turning back to the papers in front of them. “We’re almost done, anyway.” But as they looked away, a thought slipped in—a terrifying, persistent thought.

What if, just for a few moments, they let him see behind the surface?

The more they considered it, the more it tugged at them. Curiosity twisted into need—a need to be seen fully, not just for what they could do or the games they played, but for every scarred, layered piece that made them who they were. Logan was unique, after all. He understood the weight of living too many lifetimes, of carrying too many pasts. Maybe he, of all people, could handle the person they kept buried underneath.

They wrestled with the urge, every instinct resisting, their armor honed by years of experience and necessity. Something deep inside warned it was dangerous—unnecessary. But then again… maybe not. Because the thought kept tugging, whispering that maybe, just maybe, it could be something greater. A partnership that didn’t hinge on pretense or servitude but on something raw and real, something powerful.

Their gaze returned to him, lingering. He was relaxed now, waiting, not pushing. And maybe that’s what finally broke their resolve.

“You know, Logan,” they began, the words slipping out, edged with a subtle amusement that curled at the corners of their mouth. “You’re… an interesting case.” Their tone was light, but Logan could feel the weight behind it, something sharper. “In a world full of people pursuing causes, you stand apart. You’re here, fighting for something, part of a team, a mentor—yet you keep a step back, like you’re in it but always on the edge.”

They took their time, choosing their words carefully. “Not interested in becoming anyone’s weapon. Not about to let anyone make a puppet out of you.” They paused, their smile fading as their peculiar eyes locked with his, earnest, with a hint of challenge. “I respect that about you.”

Logan’s expression shifted, his relaxed posture tensing as he regarded them with a sharp glance. Crossing his arms, he studied their face, searching for their angle. There was no mistaking the twinkle in their gaze, a glint that almost dared him to see through it. He furrowed his brows, but his voice was steady. “Yeah? Well, I don’t dance on anybody’s strings. If I’m fighting for something, it’s because it matters to me. And I do it my way.”

He watched as something flickered in their eyes—a veil lingering for a few heartbeats, like his words had pulled something deep from the shadows of their mind. When their gaze met his again, it was steadier, as if a quiet understanding had slipped between them. “I get that,” they replied, voice low, the words hanging in the air with a quiet finality.

Logan studied them, suspicious of this sudden transparency. “So what? You’re saying you’re the same?” he asked, his tone guarded, almost testing.

“Maybe.” Their mouth curved in a smirk, one that seemed to bare their teeth as much as it smiled. “Let’s say I’ve had experience balancing independence with… affiliations.” They leaned forward slightly, the light metallic sound of their bracelets chiming with the motion, drawing his attention and making his senses sharpen. Their gaze glinted with something that hinted at danger, at control. “When people see power, they get ideas. They get greedy. Sometimes, we have to show them who’s in charge—decide where the lines are, or blur them if it suits us.”

Logan’s brows knit, eyes narrowing. “So, you’re tellin’ me you dance along the line but won’t let anyone hold your strings.” He leaned back, gaze sharp. “How’s that working out for you?”

They gave a light shrug, a glimmer of amusement in their eyes. “You’d be surprised. Charles, for one, respects it—but you already know that.” They smirked, as if holding back a bigger truth. “There are others, too. Equally powerful… Stark, for instance.”

Logan’s eyebrows shot up at the name, genuine interest breaking through his cautious demeanor, crumbs of energy swallowed by E’s greedy hunger. “Stark? As in the Tony Stark?” He couldn’t hide the hint of curiosity in his tone and leaned in, almost imperceptibly. “You actually know the guy?”

They lifted their brows, a small pout on their lips, playing down the significance of it with an offhand shrug, though Logan noticed a spark of pride in their eyes. “Worked with him, actually. Fresh out of law school. I had a friend—blind attorney, good guy—who mentioned Stark needed someone sharp to help… clean up a few things. Secure patents, keep his tech out of the wrong hands.” They kept it vague, partly out of client confidentiality and partly knowing that Logan wasn’t likely interested in legal specifics.

“Not exactly glamorous, but it was an exhilarating start,” they added, the flicker of pride now shining in their voice. “Let’s just say that navigating the minefield of a billionaire’s reputation certainly kept things interesting. And it was good for the notoriety.”

Flecks of emotion brushed against something deep within E—a faint thrill they quickly stifled but couldn’t entirely ignore—as Logan muttered something under his breath, a note of respect edging his tone. He’d always seen Stark as the kind of guy who didn’t trust anyone but himself—and maybe his assistant, or whatever she was now. “Bet that kept you busy.”

A chuckle escaped them, eyes glinting as the soft chime of their bracelets accompanied the sound. “Busy? He kept me on my toes. The man’s got a mind like wildfire; it was a challenge keeping up. But it was… refreshing.” They leaned back, an almost nostalgic look slipping over their face. “I guess it taught me to walk the line, to make a difference without being tied down.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully, intrigued despite himself. The story felt like a glimpse into the puzzle of their past. “So how’d you end up here?” he asked, his curiosity piqued. “Not that I’m sayin’ this place is a downgrade or anything,” he added with a smirk, resting his arms on the table.

They sensed his interest like a pulse, faint but unmistakable. It seeped into them, stirring that familiar, alluring rush, and they let out a soft laugh, an edge of amusement in their eyes. “Did you know Charles and Stark held a gala a few months back to fund the school’s new equipment?”

Logan nodded, some recognition flitting across his face. “I remember hearing about it. Charity thing, wasn’t it?”

“Exactly.” Their voice stayed casual, but their eyes sparkled with the thrill of memory. “That’s where I met Charles.” Their gaze flicked back to him, pausing just long enough to let the moment breathe. “We got along right away. He needed someone to navigate the legalities and ensure the school’s mission stayed protected. A few conversations later, and here I am.” Their eyes held his, a glimmer of interest that wasn’t easily brushed aside, as his curiosity continued to fuel something deep within them.

Logan could feel it too—a pull he couldn’t resist, a delicate pressure building inside him, different from the sharp pull of their first exchanges. This was smoother, quieter, sinking in with each new glimpse he got of E’s story, drawing him in until pulling back wasn’t an option. He sensed the quiet power behind everything they revealed, and it stirred something deeper in him—a mix of respect, intrigue, and the surprising comfort of recognition, that kept the tension going.

He leaned back, crossing his arms again, a smirk tugging at his lips. “So, you just go wherever the cause suits you, huh?” His voice held a challenge underlined by curiosity. “If Stark showed up again tomorrow, you’d be right back in his corner?”

E nodded, unfazed by the edge in his tone. “If his goals align with mine? Yes. Of course I’d work with him again! Without a second thought! Same goes for Charles.” Their gaze softened, a glimmer of conviction breaking through their usually controlled demeanor. “I want to be part of something that matters, Logan.”

Logan studied them, catching just how much they meant it. He’d known E wasn’t anyone’s puppet, but now he could see they weren’t waiting around for someone to hand them a cause, either. They were carving out their own path—fluid, adaptable, going wherever their instincts took them. And he found himself respecting that: their drive, mixed with that fierce independence. Hell, he could relate to it—maybe even admire it a little.

E felt it, the ripple of his respect, like a quiet current feeding into them. For all their control, a spark of satisfaction slipped through their gaze, their mask almost slipping as they met his eyes. His admiration, rare and guarded, felt potent—dangerously so. The energy coursed through them, lingering like a hidden pulse beneath their skin. They shifted slightly, regaining composure before his steady gaze could pierce too deeply.

They looked calm, in control, continuing their previous thought. “I’m loyal to a cause.” Then, their eyes took on a sharper edge, something deeper flickering beneath the surface. “But I’ll never let myself be chained to anyone ever again.”

There was a flash of anger, fierce and unyielding, sparking in their gaze. The quiet chime of their bracelets sounded as they leaned forward, their voice steady but intense. “There’s too much to do, too many ways to make a difference—like what you do here with these kids.”

Logan didn’t miss the brief fire of fury that had slipped through the cracks in their cool confidence, just enough to reveal a scar, raw and unhealed. They didn’t merely have a preference for freedom; it was a need, born from something that had burned them hard and left its mark. That kind of wound didn’t heal easy—he’d know.

He held their gaze, his expression softening with a rare flicker of understanding. E might play at being dangerous and unpredictable, but he was beginning to see past the games, past the mischief. Beneath it all, they weren’t half as threatening as they liked to seem—not to him, anyway. And now he wondered if their determination to make a difference came from more than just ambition. Maybe they were out here carving paths so no one else would have to walk through the fire alone.

Just as quickly, E’s eyes narrowed, the hint of vulnerability vanishing as they pulled themselves back. Their lips curved into a knowing smirk, that easy, predatory edge sliding into place. “What’s with the look, Logan?” they purred, voice rich with playful menace. “Didn’t think I’d have you figured out that quickly?”

He tilted his head, a low chuckle rolling out as his eyes held steady, watching them with newfound clarity. “Long way from that, sweetheart,” he replied, his voice as rough as the smile he wore. His stare cut through their guarded expression, tracing that hidden spark they were still trying to shield. “But I’ve seen enough to figure out there’s a hell of a lot more goin’ on with you that what you let on.”

They scoffed, dismissive as ever, though Logan’s steady gaze didn’t miss the faint, almost imperceptible shift in their eyes, the way they lingered on him just a second too long. They were good at playing the part; he could give them that. And hell, he had to respect it—the way they held their ground, defiant but calm, ready to take on whatever came next. But he’d caught a glimpse behind their guard now—just enough to give him a way in, a thread he could pull if he wanted, evening the power balance between them. A hint of a smirk tugged at his lips; they’d shown him more than they intended, and he planned on playing that to his advantage.

E met his stare, the faintest crease of tension at the edge of their mouth as they spoke. “There’s not much going on with me,” they said smoothly, though their tone carried an edge, a warning, like a line drawn firmly in the sand. “At best, you’ll see someone who’s lived long enough to know that, at some point, we’re just the sum of our own burdens—regrets, pain, and the constant battle to find a place in a world that sees us as either weapon or threat.” They shrugged, gaze cooling as if daring him to contradict them. “I know you know what I mean.”

Logan’s mouth quirked, and he offered a subtle nod. Oh, he knew. He knew that weight, the feeling of being something both feared and useful, but he also saw how tightly they held onto that defensive edge, like armor too important to set aside. And it made sense. If they’d been through even half of what he had, especially as a woman with power, that sharpness was more than just for show—it was a primal instinct born from necessity.

“So, you play the part of the predator, huh?” he asked, his voice casual, almost challenging. “Gotta keep everyone on their toes, or they might see more than you want ‘em to?”

Their gaze hardened slightly, something flickering before they smoothed it over. “It’s survival, hun,” they replied, tone measured with a hint of sarcasm, the nickname sharp on their lips. Their fingers moved up to toy with the delicate golden chain around their neck, the single white pearl shifting gently between their fingertips. “I wasn’t raised to be anyone’s prey. I’ve always been powerful in a way, even before my true nature revealed itself. Living as a mutant in this world means learning to navigate perceptions—people don’t always take well to what they don’t understand. You know that too. So, yes, most of the time, I have to play the predator. It’s how I keep my place in this society.”

Their eyes gleamed, that familiar guarded edge slipping back into place, like steel settling into a sheath. “And maybe it’s the only way I know how.”

The words settled between them, carrying an honesty that almost surprised him. Beneath the mischief and sharpness, he could see the echoes of past battles that had molded them into someone who walked the line between danger and glamor, between freedom and guarded solitude.

“Doesn’t it get exhausting?” he asked, tone light but edged enough to make it clear he wasn’t just making conversation. “Playin’ that part all the time, keepin’ everyone at arm’s length?”

For a split second, something flickered across their face—an almost imperceptible crack—but they smoothed it over with a cool smile. “It’s only exhausting if you don’t know how to handle it,” they replied, looking down at him with a hint of mockery, as if to suggest he wouldn’t know. Leaning back, they reclaimed control of the moment. “Besides, I didn’t walk this path to blend in with the crowd. The world makes demands. I learned early that if I wanted a future worth having, I’d have to shape it myself—alone.”

They straightened with a subtle chime of their bracelets, a glint of pride in their stance, fierce and unyielding, making Logan’s respect tick up a notch, teasing E’s hunger with a rich, electric thrill. They felt it brush against their senses, fueling the simmer beneath their calm. For a fleeting moment, their expression softened, indulging in the warmth of his regard. But it didn’t escape him that beneath their carefully crafted façade lay a quiet kind of fatigue, a weariness he knew too well. They might be used to the role, but that didn’t mean it didn’t take a toll. With a practiced flick of their eyes, they returned to their cool detachment, meeting his gaze with that same untouchable allure, even as their hunger urged them closer.

Logan shifted, crossing his arms loosely, gaze steady as a teasing smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, his eyes glowing with playful challenge. “Sounds to me like someone’s after more than just puttin’ on a show.”

Their smile froze for the briefest moment, a flicker of tension before they rolled their eyes, snapping the mask back into place. “And you think you know what I’m after?” They raised an eyebrow, voice slipping into that smooth, predatory edge that reminded him just how much they hated being read—just like he did.

“Maybe,” he replied, holding their gaze with that same easy smirk. “Seems like a part of you might want somethin’ more. Connections. Someone to reach out to, now and then. Make it feel less… empty.”

They scoffed, laughter low and guarded as they leaned in, the slight sound of their bracelets punctuating the motion once more. Their voice dropped to a whisper. “Don’t flatter yourself, Logan,” they said, eyes glinting with challenge as they inched closer, the whisper turning almost venomous. “I don’t need anybody, pretty boy. Especially not you.” Both their words and gaze sharpened, a teasing yet defensive spark behind it, though something unspoken lingered there. The faint chime followed their movements, an echo of tension and warning. “You might think you’ve seen through me, but trust me, there’s a lot more here than you’re ready to understand. So, stop digging. You might not like what you find.”

Logan’s smile barely shifted, but he didn’t push further, didn’t try to peel back any more layers. He didn’t need to. He’d seen enough to know that behind the sharp edges and fierce guard, E wasn’t so different from him. And the thing they made him crave these last few weeks might just be the thing they’d craved themselves for a long time.

Silence stretched between them, charged and unbroken, as they sized each other up—E, guarded and fierce behind their confident exterior; Logan, settled and a little more at ease than he’d been since they first met.

He chuckled, a low, quiet rumble that broke the silence and hung in the space between them. A confident smile played on his lips, almost as if he were savoring his small victory. “So,” he murmured, leaning in. “We done here, or… you need me for somethin’ else?” His tone carried a hint of something deeper, something suggestive.

They bristled, the calm mask slipping momentarily as irritation flashed in their eyes, but they regained composure, sliding smoothly into a clipped, professional tone. “If you don’t see any more changes to make, I can take care of the rest. I’ll give you the documents once they’re finalized.”

Logan nodded, his gaze steady as he rose from his chair, towering over them for a brief moment. “Alright,” he said, his voice warm but resolute, like he was sealing an unspoken agreement. “See you around then.”

With that, he turned, heading toward the door. And as he left, he took with him the solid rythm of his presence, that subtle weight of connection they’d woven into him over the past couple of weeks. The room felt colder, emptier without it. The quiet settled in, hollow and gnawing, the sharp hunger suddenly surging in as the connection broke, slipping from their grasp like sand between their fingers.

Alone once again, they could almost feel it—an ache beneath the calm exterior, an unsettling reminder of what he’d managed to stir to life, only to take it away.

To be continued…

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